Kunstler's Halloween Ball

James Howard Kunstler made his mark with 1993’s The Geography of Nowhere, which I put up there with Jane Jacob’s The Death and Life of Great American Cities as a seminal manifesto on our built environment. He subsequently wrote some other nonfiction books on the same topic and I found him to be a compelling writer and speaker. But by the time he wrote his World Made by Hand post-apocalyptic novel series, we had become a peak-oil doomer. I found him such a compelling thinker about the built environment that I gave him the benefit of the doubt as he pushed the limits of credulity with the doomism. But he’s really gone too far in recent years as a conspiracy theorist when it comes to the events of Trump’s election and the Covid pandemic.

Before the Geography of Nowhere, Kunstler published several novels but never gained notoriety as an author. Having really enjoyed the World Made by Hand series, I picked up his novel The Halloween Ball, and heck, it is pretty good.

The Halloween Ball captures urban decline, the popularity of cocaine, and the implications of the deinstitutionalization of mentally ill in an upstate New York college town in the 1980s. It covers the sundry mix of coeds and townies on Halloween Day, as they push through a fog of misfortune and dubious choices.

The writing is smart and solid. The characters have depth and and the story arc is good. Published just six years before The Geography of Nowhere, the characters are conscious of the built environment and the evolving fate of the upstate region’s cities. It was a satisfying read and I may try another Kunstler novel. 

Franzen Crossroads

It is a big deal to me when a new Jonathan Franzen novel comes come out. They seem to come at five-year intervals on average.

I found The Corrections to be an elevated form of fiction when I read it as a young adult. I was enjoying whatever else I had been reading, but then I realized Franzen writes on another level. The depth of the characters he develops and their interactions with each other is sublime.

I enjoyed his subsequent novels, Freedom and Purity. I don't think he could write a bad novel. But Crossroads stands out for having Franzen's masterful writing focus on, as he noted in a recent New Yorker Radio Hour episode, very ordinary characters. Freedom involved a indie rocker and Purity a family's secret fortune. In Crossroads, the characters are vivid and feel real. They suffer and act stupidly. But they are fairly ordinary. The choice of characters makes me wonder if Franzen could write about a family as plain and mine or yours with the same power, and I think the answer is yes. Every human has depth and inner conflict. Each family unit contains strife.

Franzen states that Crossroads in the first book in a planned trilogy. He planned for Crossroads to work as a standalone novel, and it does. That seems wise, because at the rate that he releases novels, that is a 15-year project. Perhaps they will be printed at shorter intervals because the three books are one project. But it pains me as fan to be waiting for him to slowly release his work.

All the Lilacs in Ohio + Gay Erasure

 John Hiatt's "All the Lilacs in Ohio" is a gorgeous song. It is a slice of bar life, a la Piano Man, with a compelling chorus chant of a drunk's love for a woman. Hiatt originally recorded the song twenty years ago in an electric garage band style. But a new acoustic recording with the Jerry Douglas band suits the masterfully written song far better.

The song comes indirectly out of Charles Jackson's 1944 novel The Lost Weekend. The book tells the tale of a severe alcoholic's ups and downs through a Thursday-to-Sunday bender. The protagonist, Don Birnam, is a closeted homosexual and this fragmented element of his life causes him agony and is one of the reasons he drinks. The novel was a bestseller and adapted into a 1945 film that won the Academy Award for best picture.

However, the the film adaptation excised the queer theme because in 1945 it was not acceptable to be gay. This homophobia, internalized and contributing to Don's self-hatred, is absent from the film.

So I am taking a small stand against this 1940s erasure of homosexuality that John Hiatt unknowingly perpetuates decades later. (I have to assume Hiatt is not homophobic.) I have modified the song's pronouns to make it a tale of queer love and infatuation.

All the Lilacs in Ohio

Written by John Hiatt
Inspired by the Film The Lost Weekend, which erased the homosexuality of the protagonist in the Charles Jackson novel on which it is based.

Pronouns modified by this blogger.

Well, you met him there on a New York City stair
You were throwing up on your shoes
Tryin' to write the great book well it really had you shook
With a bad case of wintertime blues

So you drank him down to the ragged side of town
Shared a taxi to carry him home
Then he left his handkerchief there beside you on the seat
As if to emphasize that you were all alone

Smelled like springtime when you were just a boy
And all the lilacs in Ohio
All the lilacs in Ohio, there ya go
In the city streets in the dirty winter snow
All the lilacs in Ohio-hio

Well, he is the love story you speak of
When you talk to Sam at the bar
But it's in the details your story often fails
Yeah, close, but no cigar

You might see your own ass in a double whiskey glass
But you cannot erase his smile
And you'll never write it down, never find him in this town
Of phantom dreams and fingernail files

It was springtime and you were just a boy
And all the lilacs in Ohio
All the lilacs in Ohio, there ya go
In city streets in the dirty winter snow
All the lilacs in Ohio-hio

So you pin his handkerchief to clean white linen sheets
And you unmake your bed and crawl in
You imagine him there and you're tangled in his hair
And he smells like flowers again

And it's springtime and you are just a boy
And all the lilacs in Ohio
All the lilacs in Ohio, there ya go
In the city streets and the dirty winter snow
All the lilacs in Ohio-hio

COVID AIDS SEATBELTS

I have a photo of my father and his brother saying goodbye to my grandmother in 1943 when they were going off to war. They didn’t know if they would return. And today people wouldn’t wear a mask to protect the health of their fellow citizens?

I remember when it became clear last year that COVID was a real crisis and everyone would be affected and have to live differently for some time. My instinct was to do my part for my community and my country. So I followed the guidance. I worked from home. I supported my local restaurants by ordering take out (that one was not a sacrifice for me). I masked up without complaining despite it being actually difficult to secure a mask behind my ears while wearing hearing aids.

These macho men who thought they didn’t need to wear masks or take other precautious aren’t much different from the big segment of sexually promiscuous gay men in the 1980s who refused to take precautions against AIDS. People of all walks of life don’t like to change their lifestyles.

At any rate, I actually don’t think we did too badly with masks. It has taken decades to get a high majority of car passengers to wear seatbelts. Masks caught on over the weeks and months of the pandemic.

Hubie Halloween versus the real Salem

Hubie Halloween, new on Netflix, is a fun and hilarious movie. Adam Sandler is a skilled clown, and he'll make you laugh and smile as always. It might even join the modern classics like Hocus Pocus and the Nightmare Before Christmas as movies Halloween celebrants view every October.

But this a a movie set in Salem, Massachusetts, that portrays a very Hollywood version of Salem. Only a sliver of the outdoor scenes was actually shot in Salem. The downtown scenes are from the neighboring town of Marblehead. The haunted house is also Marblehead. The homes of Hubie and other characters I'm not sure about, but they don't look like Salem. That leaves only the shots of the Salem Witch Museum, Salem Common, and a flash of the Essex Street pedestrian mall.

The real Salem isn't the small New England town that the film portrays. It is a dense and diverse city. Some of its characteristics eclipsed by the Halloween fame include:

• Salem is home to a large population of immigrants from the Dominican Republican, spread both throughout the City and also concentrated in the Point neighborhood. The Point housed past waves of immigrants working in industrial mills. Today it is home to the Punto Urban Art Museum--a concentration of lively outdoor murals that draw visitors to the neighborhood.
• Salem is a postindustrial city. It was home to manufacturing facilities for national companies like Parker Brothers board games and Sylvania electronics, as well as many leather and textile mills. All of these establishments left Salem decades ago, leaving behind industrial contamination. Over the years, these sites have been cleaned up and given new life. Parker Brothers is now a large apartment complex. Sylvania is Salem State University's Central Campus. Other sites have been claimed for new housing development with easy access to Boston via Salem's downtown train station. 
• Salem State University, with its 8,000 students, is located in South Salem, about 1.5 miles south of downtown.
• Salem is a small City with a very big museum. Surrounded by for-profit Halloween themed museums, the Peabody Essex Museum is Salem's real museum. It holds over a million artistic and historic items and recently added a new wing with the backing of a $650,000,000 capital campaign.
• Salem's real downtown is a real downtown. It includes shops, restaurants, coffeeshops, bars, breweries, offices, condos, apartments, hotels, courthouses, a homeless shelter, parking garages, and several parks. 
• As a City, Salem has its share of challenges. It has some crime, poverty, and homelessness. 

So, Salem doesn't belong to Hollywood. There is an authentic Salem that belongs to the people who live, work, or go to college there.

My hearing loss journey

I've been living with hearing loss for the past two decades. I passed several hearing tests as a child, but in college I remember not being able to hear a professor without my glasses. I realize in hindsight I was reading lips. About ten years ago, I revealed to my nurse practitioner that I watched tv with closed captioning and she sent me for a hearing test. I was shocked when the audiologist recommended hearing aids. Because he pushed hard, even suggesting I take out additional grad school loans for the purchase, I was skeptical. The harder someone tries to sell me something, the less I want it.

But that failed hearing test was a revelation. I couldn't hear the person next to me at loud social gatherings. In quiet settings, I would stand close to a speaker and stair at their mouth. I couldn't discern half of what people with soft voices would say. I got a job that required listening to all sorts of people speak at large gatherings. Understanding speech was requiring special focus. For example, if I didn't see a person before they addressed me, I would miss the first few words because it would take a moment to intensify my concentration.

Periodic tests confirm that while my hearing is bad, it hasn't worsened in recent years. However, my awareness of the problem and understanding of treatment options made me experience my deficiency more intensely. Audiologists helped me understand that with moderate hearing loss in the higher frequencies, I struggled to hear consonants. The meant that although I would hear a voice, the words lacked the form that consonants give. It is like seeing a featureless face.

So I decide to purchase hearing aids. The industry is very hard to navigate. Imaging never having owned, driven, or ridden in an automobile, and then trying to buy one. Working with my insurance company to make use of their meager benefit was confusing and frustrating. Finding a provider I can trust was difficult too. In the end, a friend with hearing aids provided personal guidance and advocated for me. I'm a frugal, natural skeptical, and arguably educated person who is on the early end of middle age, and I required an advocate to steer me through the process. I worry that greedy hearing aid salespeople could easily screw with less resourceful people and seniors in particular.

At any rate, I budgeted for the multi-thousand-dollar out-of-pocket expense and made the leap. I walked out of the audiologist's office overwhelmed by the ambient sounds of birds and cars. And I delighted in the crisp and clear sound of my coworkers voices. I began to take in my new world of sound as I heard the whisper of the wind, raindrops tapping on my umbrella, and the hum of the refrigerator. It has been a pleasure to absorb the new sounds in various environments.

While intensity of the new ambient noises was bothersome, I understood my brain was gradually adjusting to process the new range of sounds. After just days, my auditory experience feels natural and I am now wholly dependent on the hearing aids. In fact, there is an ironic sensation when I take them out. Without them, my ears feel clogged. With the aids in, my ears feel clear. I do hear an artificial edge to some sounds, but I accept that my aided hearing just won't be as perfect as natural, unaided, normal hearing. But it sure is hugely better than my unaided hearing.

My story has a happy ending. I had the wherewithal to make an informed purchase of a device to boost my deficient higher frequencies and the improvement is fabulous. But hearing aids are hugely expensive and insurance seems to only cover a fraction. Many just can't afford them. And there is a wide range of type and severity of hearing loss that people experience. Some have such impaired hearing that the benefit of hearing aids gets to to a place where they still struggle to communicate. And the miracle of cochlear implants allowing fully deaf people to hear is actually quite limited. The sound cochlear users experience is quite crude and requires work to learn to process and interpret.

So that is my story. There is more I may write about in future posts. I may want to talk about my internalized ableism that made me hesitate to wear hearing aids that would make my disability visible. And I am only about a week into this new life, so I may have additional thoughts as I continue to live it. Either way, I hope that sharing this is helpful to others suffering from hearing loss.

The Not So Straight Life of Art Pepper

Art Pepper is a renowned saxophonist and lifelong drug addict with a story worth telling. As Laurie Pepper, his third wife and coauthor, puts it, he told great stories and she documented and assembled them cohesively in this book. She painstakingly recording his account of every event in his life, having him repeat each story multiple times for clarity. Interviews with other characters in the story, as well as cross referencing Art's rap sheet and discography, helped her put it all in order.

You'll be swept off your feet by Art's accounts that weave in and out of the mainstream of the 20th century American story. He pauses his budding jazz career when he is drafted to wartime Europe. He establishes himself as one of the greatest saxophonists of his time, gets addicted to heroin, and circulates through the prison system. When he is jailed, the reader is his cellmate. How else will I learn what that experience is like?

The sex experiences are graphic, and Laurie says this is in part because they were once in talks to publish excerpts in a pornographic magazine. Though that didn't pan out, this element of the story affirms the honesty of the storyteller and makes the reader feel that she is reading the whole story.

Art never lives a straight life. At his worst, he was pawning his saxophones and steeling tools from construction sites to pay for a daily fix. He was clean for a period, though it happened to coincide with his participation in a cult (google "Synanon"). In his final years, methadone and Laurie were hugely stabilizing for him, but he and Laurie both used hard drugs on top of the methadone. Art died at age 56 in 1982, a ripe old age for a lifelong addict. He ravaged his body, suffering from cirrhosis and even brain damage in his later years. (Were his hernia's also related to substance abuse?)

I see parallels with another Art--Artie Lange. Lange is a brilliantly talented comedian and storyteller who has abused drugs and alcohol constantly throughout his career. When a regular on the Howard Stern show, he would fall asleep on air. Now 51, he has been in and out of jail and rehab and shows no signs of slowing down, even has his nose has collapsed as a result of his drug use. There is no way he outlives Pepper.

Before I had the Words: On Being a Transgender Young Adult

I recently started reading up on the ridiculously short history of transgender rights. But I am finding personal stories of trans people more mind expanding. Some young transgender people document their transition, and their life in general, online. It is an makes an opportunity for us cisgender people to have all our questions answered as well as to witness the humanity of these easily marginalized folks.

One is Jamie Raines who is cute, funny, and articulate. The story of his girlfriend's finally successful quest for her family's acceptance of their relationship is heartwarming. Another is Skylar Kergil, who has made a name for himself raising awareness of trans people. His memoirs, Before I Had the Words, document the experience of feeling truly male despite being born with a female body and the journey through his transition.

Transgender people move me because they live off script and have to cross more bridges than most people. Their journey of self-discovery, transformation, finding community, fighting for their rights,  and celebrating their identify is a spiritual path. I understand my bias in favor of these young and cute trans personalities, when I know that true transgender acceptance has to embrace everyone--including ugly, awkward, and fat. And I appreciate and support the fight for transgender rights and acceptance because they are on the front lines. The LG and B can feel more secure if the T has rights.

A Queer History of the United States

Now and then I hear a strict libertarian argument that a shop owner should have the right to refuse customers based on race. Typically the speaker adds that although he believes in the right of the shop owner, such an activity would be abhorrent and the store should be boycotted.

I contrast this with much more common statements by proponents of the right to refuse to serve customers based on sexual orientation. They believe homosexuality is wrong and that they have the right to refuse to endorse it through their businesses activities. I would respect their case more if they embraced their deeper humanity and recognized that it is wrong to humiliate and marginalize queer people, while taking a strict libertarian position regarding the store owner's rights.

Michael Bronski's A Queer History of the United States describes the long lead up to the era of increased acceptance and legal rights for queer people in America. Explicit records of homosexual activity in the US prior to 1900 are mainly regarding its criminal prosecution. Other than than, the author can only speculate about who was queer through reading between the lines, decoding, and academic theorizing. It wasn't until 1950 that Harry Hay, an early LGBT activist, had a then radical thought:

"...[We] believe homosexuals can lead well-adjusted, wholesome, and socially productive lives once ignorance and prejudice against them is successfully combated, and once homosexuals feel they have a dignified and useful role to play in society."

During the AIDS crisis in the 1980s, religious-political leaders were claiming the disease was god's punishment for homosexuality. Society's response to the health crisis was agonizingly slow, while our least brothers suffered and died.

Just a few years ago, the results of an online search for "gay middle schooler" would include many tragic stories of suicide. Today, I find support programs for that age group. But progress toward acceptance and rights for queer people had been very slow before the Massachusetts Supreme Court in 2004 set in motion a domino effect of states legalizing gay marriage. Even now, I worry that such rights could be lost anytime.

The Beauty of The Way He Looks

The Way He Looks is the coming of age story of Leo, a blind, middle class Brazilian teenager. At the film's open, Leo and best friend Giovana lay by her pool lamenting the lack of romance in their lives. Why not just kiss each other, they wonder. But Leo longs for his first kiss to be meaningful.

As Leo's classmates cruelly mock his disability, Gabriel, a new student, joins the class. Giovana becomes jealous as Leo and Gabriel develop a friendship that she feels crowds her out. Meanwhile, Leo feels constrained by his parent's loving but excessive protectiveness and longs for a sense of independence despite his disability.

Leo falls in love with Gabriel, who reciprocates the feelings, and Leo reconciles with Giovana. A simple love story, perhaps. However, Leo's blindness and resulting magnified need for others makes both his periods of isolation and intimacy palpable to the viewer. It projects outward and exaggerates the bipolar emotional turmoil of adolescence, the promise of youth, and the singular wonder of young love.

I love this movie enough to forgive it for triggering the cold realization of how many years separated I am from that period of my life. As a seasoned adult I wonder whether Leo and Gabriel have a future together, whether they truly know one another. But I know the relationship, as beautiful as it is, is merely a supporting element in the tale of greater beauty--that of a young man coming of age. I also know that I will never be young again.

Joey DeFracesco's Grammy Nomination

I'm pleased to see Joey DeFrancesco's Project Freedom nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Jazz Instrumental Album. I might not be able to pick the Album or Song of the Year nominees out of a lineup and it makes me feel old and out of touch. But when I scroll way down the list of nominees, I see Joey, an artist a recently saw perform.

Yamaha P-255 Stand and Pedal Unit Review

For most of my first year with my Yamaha P-255 digital piano, I played it on an X stand and used the included sustain pedal. The sand was a little wobbly and the pedal, as high quality as it is, would never stay in its place. I put a box between it at the wall so it wouldn't move away from me, but it would still move side to side. So I made the leap and bought the P-255's wooden stand and pedal unit.

The stand (L-255) has a sleek and solid appearance, making the P-255 look more like a digital piano than a portable keyboard. It eliminated the wobble, of course, as I would expect no less. The actual materials are cheaper than I had expected. The feet are plastic and everything else is particle board. In fact, my stand first arrived damaged--the back board split in two--and had to be returned. However, for its intended use, the materials are probably adequate. And the connecting hardware between the stand's pieces and securing the P-255 to the stand is higher quality and fits together nicely.

I bought the stand together with the tripple pedal unit (LP-255). The pedal unit comes with a wooden baseboard that the stand looks incomplete without. The pedal unit is all plastic and felt cheap as the whole thing flexed when a pedal was depressed before I knew to loosen the screws and tighten them again when the unit rested soundly against the floor--problem solved. Still, I don't understand why the whole unit is toy-style plastic when the sustain pedal included with the P-255 is metal with a robust plastic housing, and the piano itself feels better quality that the pedal unit.

Despite its plastic composition, the pedal unit functions well. The FC4A pedal that came with the piano is really only a binary switch. The pedal unit's sustain pedal, on the other hand, allows half pedaling like on an acoustic piano, where notes sustain briefly with the dampers still making light contact with the strings. I don't remember knowing about this technique all the years I played an acoustic piano. Learning it now is a pleasure that makes the pedal unit feel worthwhile. This capability, as well as the middle sostenuto pedal and the left soft pedal, elevate to P-255 to a more precise emulation of the experience of playing an acoustic piano.

The left pedal also brings more out of the Hammond organ sounds by functioning as a slow/fast switch for the rotary speaker effect. And this is just neat because it doesn't just alternate between two discrete speeds, but accelerates and decelerates on a continuum between the two speeds, as I imagine a real rotary speaker would behave. While a digital piano with weighted keys and no drawbars will never be quite like a true organ experience, this is a nice step toward it.

There is also a pedal-activated start/stop feature that I haven't tried yet. But overall I am pleased to have full access to all the P-255's features now that I have the pedal unit and stand and I recommend these accessories to any P-255 user.

Edward Scissorhands

In a 1990 movie, are depictions of mid-century neighborhood and interior design a mockery? I remember being in a kitchen in the late 1980s that still had the 60s design. It looked awfully out of date then. Now the mid-century stuff is appreciated again. I don't understand the cycles of style. If something is aesthetically good, wouldn't it be timeless? Perhaps some elements of mid-century design have overcome the ebb and flow of fashionability to achieve a more timeless respect. 

In what time period is Edward Scissorhands set? The houses, inside and out, are mid-century. But I spotted a few late-70s Fords. A cassette player appears, as do other late 20th century electronics. The mid-centuryism is the film's dominant style and it is beautiful. Mockery or not, I enjoy seeing the mid-century imagery in a 2017 rewatch.

What the hell is the title character? Is he an allegory for a psychologically damaged refugee? Maybe there is no metaphor there. It doesn't matter. To me, the character is brilliantly imagined: A man with scissors for hands, but not horror movie style. A timid and sensitive being who is nothing like us or everything like us.

I adore the flavor of Tim Burton's films. And Vincent Price made me happy in his perfectly suited minor role.

The Splendor of Billy Joel

I listened to all thirteen episodes of "We Didn't Start the Podcast", a snarky and irreverent review of the the Billy Joel catalog. The podcasters begin split--Meg Donahue is a Billy Joel fan, and Adam Ragusea is determinely not.

SPOILER: At the end of the podcast, Ragusea reveals that he does now like Billy Joel because too many of his songs are undeniably good.

The hosts are tough on Joel. They pull no punches with Joel's many false starts, imitations, and dull filler songs. They are no easier on his personal life, ridiculing the highly publicized car accidents and alcohol abuse. They spare no target, including the artist's deepening voice and widening girth.

But both fan and critic acknowledge his talents as a composer and performer that comes through in the countless songs that have become American standards. Meg says the song "Lullabye" alone would put Joel into her top five artists.

Hearing all this, I feel compelled to celebrate my hardcore admiration of Billy Joel's music that began when I was just ten years old. He is a master songwriter who created grade-A music consistently, even when it was interspersed among weaker songs. And he is the master of the lead instrument that drives his songs. Even as he slows down, his live performances continue to be magnificent while he leads his live shows at the piano.

Some of their criticism I think is especially off target. They hear New York State of Mind not as a passionate declaration of Joel's love for a city, but as a young man's pompous belief that he alone can save a metropolis in decline. And they fail to appreciate his masterful ability to tell the stories of our weakest brothers--American solders fighting in Vietnam ("Goodnight Saigon"), factory workers suffering in the face of deindustrialization ("Allentown"), and struggling fishermen ("Downeaster Alexa"). These are three great Billy Joel songs. In fact, they introduced very serious topics to me as an adolescent. Ragusea accept's Billy Joel's critique against suburban sprawl as authentic, because his father grew up in the same town and seconds Joel's impressions.

Most of all, I wish they recognized how Billy Joel doesn't take himself too seriously. In an interview, he mocked how Piano Man is just limericks over a repeating melody. He has always said We Didn't Start the Fire is bad music. And he owns the fact that out of a dislike of his own voice, he is always trying to sound like other musicians.

Joel's personal life has been very publicly messy. But I have to defend him on this charge. If he were a regular schlub, his personal failings would be uninteresting. I know quite a few overweight people with a drinking problem and string of failed relationships. These common cases may be sad, but I don't feel compelled to ridicule them.

When Joel released his last pop album, I was twenty-four years younger. It is interesting to see a highly successful artist stop creating music. I was disappointed as a fan realizing that there would be no more albums. But the alternative might have been worse. What if he continued making pop music, but it were awful. We'll never know what the music could have been like. He has actually given two original pop songs to the world since his last album, perhaps as our only clue to whether he still has it. One is trash ("Christmas in Fallujah") and the other is lovely ("All My Life"). Heck, seeing that one of these songs is any good convinces me that he could very well create a quality album today.

 

Some Kind of Wonderful

SPOILER BELOW

I very randomly watched this 1987 John Hughes teen drama again and it wasn't stupid like I worried it might seem now that I am an adult. Some Kind of Wonderful is a solid story and is decently acted. And now that the 1980s are so far behind us, it feels like a period drama.

I worried I might experience painful nostalgia watching this, but it didn't happen. I simply enjoyed the underdog story: A high school outcast who heroically scores a date with the most popular girl only to realize his true love is a fellow misfit. All three overcome the awkward social restraints of high school to embrace their desires and vulnerabilities.

It pleases me that the movie doesn't try to be funny. And I like how very 1980s the movie is. I don't care if younger people will never know how lovely the teen films of that decade were.

Yamaha P-255 Digital Piano: 6 Month Review

I first reviewed the Yamaha P-255 digital piano in December just a couple weeks after buying it following a long and systematic search for the right piano in my price range. I've been playing it frequently over the last six months and have more thoughts to offer.

Everything works right and I have found no defects. Despite giant leaps forward, I feel like electronic devices aren't built like they used to be. But the P-255 is solid.

I continue to enjoy the built-in sounds. The acoustic piano is perfect with headphones and pretty good through the speakers. The Wurlitzer and Rhodes pianos, and the Hammond B3 organ have opened new musical doors for me. I've come to like the Rhodes sound best with the mid and high equalizer sliders up and the Sound Boost function on. So I'm pleased to be able to adjust the tone like that. I know that upgrading to a product like the Korg SV-1 or the Nord Piano 3 would give me fuller flexibility to produce the exact Wurlitzer and Rhodes sounds I want. And the Studiologic Numa Organ 2, with its drawbars and waterfall keys could eventually be my entry into the organ world. But I chose the P-255 in order have the sound and feel of an acoustic piano, and it has delivered. The other sounds are a lovely additional sampling of keyboard possibilities.

The action is good. I've since fiddled more with the Yamaha P-115 and DGX-660 and the superiority of the P-255's action couldn't be clearer. It remains a joy to have the delightful bounce of the action at my fingertips.

I still don't use the 10 built-in rhythms, since my faithful PSR-292 has 130 and they are easier to control. I suppose the metronome is fine, but to add a ding at every measure, you have to go a couple layers into the iPad app. However, I think I like the app more now as I use it, since it just isn't easy to access the P-255's advanced features with its minimalist controls. I would again look to the Korg SV-1 or Nord Piano 3 if I wanted more convenient access to every feature.

Overall I am very happy with the product. I would not have been happy with the action and speakers on the less expensive Yamahas. On the other hand, I would probably be very happy with a Kawai ES8 or Roland FP-90, but I they were just a little beyond what I was willing to pay.

The difference between losing and being a loser

I have an acquaintance I've been watching from afar. He is an aspiring entrepreneur with a business idea that hasn't gotten off the ground yet. From his social media posts, I know that this has been a challenge for him. His proposal has been rejected again and again and this clearly wears on him.

Now as I continue to observe him online, I see that some of his words and actions are self-defeating. For example, when he was rejected for a grant, he publicly shamed the organization. I know from my experience that it is never fun to endure a defeat like that. But I also know that applying for a grant, or a job, or anything where you have to market yourself, can still yield dividends even when unsuccessful. These failures can still result in making new connections and finding other opportunities for success. But by publicly shaming the organization that denied him, he made sure his failure would have no positive side to it.

I have also seen him refer to his own genius many times. He might be extremely intelligent. The writing he posts online is certainly eloquent. But I deal with many extremely intelligent professionals. You know what they don't do? They never tell you how smart they are. They just thrive at what they do and that speaks for itself.

I recently read a post where he says something about how he couldn't get hired for a certain job in his community due to politics. It was an odd statement, since I know he doesn't have experience in that particular field, and that is why he couldn't get that job. I would think people with experience in that field might find this post a little insulting.

All in all, I worry that despite his years of dedication and hard work, his approach is that of a loser.

What is America's Future?

This post is full of spoilers from The Mandibles: A Family, 2029-2047 by Lionel Shriver.

The election of Donald Trump sucked away my optimism for the country's future. It isn't just his election that did this to me, but the spotlight it shines on the fact that we have an electorate willing to accept him as president. If not Trump in 2016, what kind of person might be elected in 2020 or 2014?

Chuck Marohn's mention of The Mandibles in his Strong Towns podcast pulled me in: In the near future, the United States defaults on its debt and the economy collapses. The Mandible family fortune, along with any members' expectation of a big inheritance, is wiped out.

Increasing poverty hits the Mandible family hard. Several units of the extended family are forced to live under one roof with scarce food. Willing Darkly-Mandible, a precocious scion, is wired for these times, foreseeing the increasing hardships and creatively supporting his family's difficult adaptations. When the cramped household is removed from the house by gun-wielding squatters, Willing guides the family hundreds of miles out of the city to an uncles farm.

The United States becomes too poor to continue asserting itself internationally. China reclaims Taiwan and annexes Japan. Indonesia invades Australia. There is genocide in Madagascar. But America is impotent to intervene.

There a history between present day and the novel's opening in 2029. America was involved at some point in a military quagmire in New Zealand of the likes of Vietnam and Iraq. The United States is temporarily hacked back to the stone age, with an uncertain foreign entity shutting down all electronic devices and communications for an extended period. And with the US over-leveraged in debt, Russia, China, and other collaborators establish a new world currency that knocks the legs out from under the US dollar.

I've never been much of a doomer before. I suppose I've always understood that things could go very wrong and our complex society could fall apart. Some kind of nuclear mess is always a possibility, but I've always thought enough cool heads in charge will steer us away from such a calamity. But after the recent election I have no confidence that our federal government will be wisely managed. I worry that the economic collapse described in The Mandibles is possible.

I suppose I'm not going to worry about this enough to prepare. In the novel's scenario, cash, savings, and abstract investments become worthless. Tangibles, especially property, remain valuable. The nation doesn't fall as far as it does in Kunstler's World Made by Hand series. American civilization endures in The Mandibles, only much poorer. Cities are destitute, but livable--perhaps more so with fewer cars.

I've gone digital

I'm fully acclimated to my digital piano now. I played my old acoustic upright at my parents' house this weekend and it didn't feel right to me. The piano is about 25 years old and was never maintained well. The keys are sticky and sit low, as though they no long bounce back to their full resting position. I did have the soft pedal locked and played lightly, but it felt impotent. My digital piano feels perfect. That is my home base now.

I wonder if the piano can be returned to life with a little service.

Keyboard versus Guitar

Hearing Billy Joel's music starting around age ten hooked me on piano for life. I dabbled with guitar in my teens, but I've always been much more of a pianist than a guitarist.

I've always thought of the piano as the mother instrument at the center of all music with its spread of 88 keys perfectly laid out as a reference point for all instruments. As a player, the bing of a key strike mesmerizes me. I understand it is simply a hammer hitting a string, but it sounds like something above and beyond that--something unique.

But that hammer strike separates that pianist from the strings. The many moving parts between the keys and the strings result in the player only being able to manipulate the strings indirectly. This results in an instrument with limited dynamics.

The guitar, on the other hand, is just about opposite the piano in this regard. A guitar player directly manipulates the guitar strings with both hands simultaneously. With one hand, he can bend notes, slide down the strings, hammer on, and pull off. With the other hand, he can strike the strings with a single pick, a pick attached to each finger, his fingernails, or his fingertips themselves. He might slap the strings rhythmically. Because of these possibilities, the guitar is an extremely dynamic and versatile musical instrument.

But there are hot sounds to be produced by piano keys too. The 1960s to the 1980s gave us some lovely electric pianos. The Fender Rhodes electric piano may be the most dynamic of these new instruments. More than just the pitch changes as one moves up or down the keyboard and more than the volume changes when you hit a key lighter or harder. Herbie Hancock describes the Rhodes as having many colors that can be brought out. The Wurlitzer electric pianos, too, have a color all their own. Yamaha CP models also expanded the range of sounds a keyboardist could produce. And throughout, organs evolved--particularly the Hammond, which became a fixture of much of the rich music being produced as the century wrapped up with synthesizers able to create any sound imaginable.

Now every keyboard sound ever produced is available through relatively affordable digital pianos and keyboards. I don't think you can have one electronic keyboard for everything, though. A piano, for example, needs to have key action that is vastly different from what you would want for a Hammond organ.

But the rich evolution of keyed instruments still doesn't result in parity with the guitar, because the directly string manipulation, to me, can't be surpassed by any keyboard. In addition, the guitar is simply a friendly instrument. A teenager can buy a guitar for a hundred bucks, learn to play, and bring it to college with him. Pianos are expensive. Often they are just there, already in the household. College is a prefect time to let one's piano skills atrophy because the instrument stays with mom and dad.

Sure, you can bring a portable keyboard to college, as I did, but it wasn't the same as the piano I left back home. And there never was a good way to set it up in my dorm. My guitar traveled several times between my dorm and my parents' house, no problem.

Another advantage of the guitar is that it can be enjoyed by players with a huge range of skill levels. You can learn a handful of chords and strum your way to years of enjoyment while the next guy is a virtuoso. There is a larger hill to climb before getting anywhere on the piano.

But I love the piano because I am a pianist, while I recognize the magic of the guitar.

The Korg SV-1 is Kewl

I'm in love with the look of the Korg SV-1. It looks like a replica of a 1970s electric piano that never existed in the 1970s. Someone online described it as very Jetsons in appearance. And that fits, because it has all the computery insides, but only analog controls.

I didn't research the SV-1 when I was preparing to purchase a digital piano because I knew I wanted internal speakers. But after falling in love with the Fender Rhodes and Wurlitzer electric piano sounds on my new Yamaha P-255, the Korg appeals to me. The Korg has 12 electric piano sounds and a lot of variables to play with to get the sound you want. And it just looks awesome.

I know that there are a lot of different stage pianos available. So if I ever started looking seriously at the Korg, I would do the same kind of extensive research that resulted in my Yamaha P-255 purchase. I know I love the look of it, but I would want to know more about the quality of the sounds. And I would ask myself whether there are electric piano sounds I want that it doesn't have. And I would learn a little about whether the features controlled by the knobs would suit me.

The Korg has a vacuum tube that it runs amp effects through. I call it a Flux Capacitor because that is what it looks like to me. But I have heard online that the tube is quite an ordeal to replace. It looks like an unnecessary gimmick.

So, yeah, I would take a good look at a range of stage piano models before buying one.

Guitar Center haggling

There are times when I am playing my new digital piano (review here) and the piano sounds and feels simply delightful. And when I put on my headphones to play, I realize that option is a luxury, since there is no way I could play an acoustic piano in this house except during very limited hours.

Besides the joy of finally bringing home a new toy, it was a relief to put behind me the experience of dealing with that bullshit of salesmanship. I want to recount some of that experience here because it was an interesting sort of roller coaster ride for me.

I began my search for a digital piano at a local Guitar Center on Black Friday weekend. One of the employees was aggressive in trying to make a sale, yet completely professional and pleasant. She quizzed me on what I was looking for and pulled up a piano on her computer that she had in stock and offered me 15%, and then 20% off the store's list price. I felt that I had more research ahead of me, so I couldn't buy it that day.

After doing some research, I saw a used model at Guitar Center that I know I would be happy to buy at a lower price than shown on the tag. I approached an employee and asked what the history of the item was. He explained that it is a consignment item and they don't ask the owner for any history. They only screen the serial number to try to make sure it is not stolen. I asked what kind of guarantee the store has for the product. I think he told me it is 45 days and then pitched the protection plan that comes at an extra cost. I hear that Guitar Center employees have a lot of pressure on them to sell the protection plan, and its value is questionable for a solid new product with a manufacturer's warranty. But I suppose such extra protection might make sense for a used item with an unknown history.

Inspired by the Guitar Center employee who earlier offered 20% of the store's list price for a new item, I offered about 40% under list for the used piano, thinking we might negotiate to a higher, but fair price. I felt like and asshole when he told me my offer "wasn't even in the ballpark." I asked what then could he do for me for a price, and he stated the list price. That to me isn't a ballpark, or even a strike zone, but a tiny bulls-eye. I felt burned, after being set up by the other employee's aggressive discounting. But I thanked this employee politely and left.

My later interactions with digital piano salespeople at other stores made me wonder about my failed Guitar Center haggling. By making an offer on an item, I was clearly ready to make a big purchase. He should have shown me some other options that he could sell me for what I could pay (there were several such products at that store). Also, with subsequent research, I now think the store's list price on the used piano was probably a good value. He might have been able to convince me of that with straightforward information about the product.

But I do take responsibility for how sour my failed Guitar Center experience felt to me. My offer was very low. I didn't know what to expect and I wasn't really ready for the haggling experience. But I decided to do my best to have a good experience with any haggling that followed. Though I still disliked the salesiness of the experience that followed. With one store, I disliked how obsessively they link you to one particular sales associate, and I worried I was offending them if I talked to another associate. But my experience after Guitar Center was generally pleasant, even though my purchase occurred after several additional unsuccessful, but very human and respectful, price negotiations.

Weeks after my purchase, I walked around a Yamaha digital piano kiosk at a mall for a fast look for the fun of it. I did not want to engage with a piano salesman, but my partner did not know this. When the salesman approached, my partner said, "He just got one." The salesman asked what I bought and I told him, a P-255. He replied, "That's different. That's a keyboard. These are Clavinovas." I said "uh huh", thanked him and we went on our way. I felt like he had disparaged my purchase. Yes, the P-255 is a portable slab, but it has 88 full-sized weighted and graded keys. Most, including Yamaha, seem to refer to it as a digital piano. I understand that Clavinovas are great, but they are also furniture style (which I didn't want), and expensive beyond my means. And I question whether it is appropriate to spend thousands on an electronic product that could be very much obsolete in a few years and may have a functional life expectancy of 10 years.

So there you have it. I enjoyed reading other people's Guitar Center experiences that helped me fell justified in my feelings after my sour experience. I was once a retail employee and the experience made me intent on treating these people respectfully, even if I am not pleased with my experience. That is because they are human beings who are more than their retail job and they deserve to have their humanity respected.

Yamaha P-255 Digital Piano Review

When I was searching for a digital piano, I found online product reviews very helpful. So three weeks after my purchase, I want to give back by contributing a review of my own.

I studied piano as an adolescent and then played, performed, and recorded a little as a sometimes serious amateur. My acoustic piano stayed with my parents when I left home. My living space is on an upper floor with no elevator, so it would be challenge to get my acoustic piano in here. And I don't know if I would ever want to disturb my downstairs neighbor with the sound of it.

I have a Yamaha PSR-292 keyboard that I bought in 2002 for $300. In the age of the iPhone with a lifespan of only two or three years, I am impressed that the PSR-292 works like new after 14 years and occasional heavy use. And I have always liked how it has a half-decent piano sound. But with only 61 keys that are organ style, it will never play like an acoustic piano.

I began my search for a digital piano with my first trip to Guitar Center in probably ten years. I was immediately encouraged at the range of affordable choices. I played Yamaha, Williams, and Casio models that all seemed to have decent hammer action for under $1,000. I admired the simplicity of the controls on Yamaha's cheapest model with weighted keys, the P-45, which costs only $400. And the DGX-660, with its many sounds and fun features, appealed to me too.

It was at this stage when I think I knew I disliked the cheaper feel of the Casio and Williams models. Some Casio models had an iPhone-style touch screen that I worried would only last as long as an iPhone. So I focused on the Yamahas and learned about their hammer action, key surface materials, and sounds. I considered the Arius models that are designed to look almost like actual pianos, but soon determined that I would not be putting the piano in a part of the house where the appearance mattered.

I understood that the P-255 ($1,300) has Yamaha's Graded Key rather than Graded Key Standard action, as well as synthetic key ivory key surfaces, putting it above the P-45, P-115, and DGX-660. The internal speakers of the P-255 are more powerful than these lesser models too. Another pianist strongly advised me to get a model with wooden keys, but such models start at $3,500, which was much more than I was prepared to spend.

I drove an hour to try models models which people online suggest as alternatives outside Yamaha's lineup. The Kawai ES8 seemed like a very solid product, but $2,000 plus accessories was outside my budget. I also liked the feel, sound, and features of the Roland FP-80 and could afford it at $1,400 (plus accessories). But honestly the lighted buttons annoyed me and I got the feeling that if I went with Roland, the FP-90 would have been right for me, but at $1,800 plus accessories, it too pushed the limits of my budget.

I took a final good look at the full array of models at a Yamaha showroom. I could have gotten a decent deal on one of the least expensive Clavanovas. But I felt strongly at that point that the P-255 would suit me. I also could have raised my budget limit and found a world of great options. But while I understand spending thousands on an acoustic piano that can last generations, I couldn't justify spending the same on an electronic device that might last ten years.

In the end, a local dealer offered to come close enough to Guitar Center's price for a bundle with basic stand and bench, so I was happy avoid buying it from the chain store. It feel greats to have the piano touch and sound again. I have actually connected my PSR's output to the new piano's aux in to access the hundreds of sounds and beats of my old machine, which can be recorded in .wav format to USB on the P-255. This gives me access to most of what I would have had I bought the feature rich DGX-660 with its inferior key action and sound.

The 255 has only 24 voices and 10 rhythms. But the piano sound is excellent. And I have fallen for the two digital piano voices and both Hammond organ sounds. These are rich and crisp and have given me a new appreciation for the instruments being sampled. However, I understand that to really play it like a Hammond, I would need draw bars, non-weighted keys, a volume pedal, and pedal base notes. So I wouldn't suggest the 255 for someone who wants a full Hammond organ experience. I haven't played much yet with the other sounds, but I already know the 255's strings aren't better or worse than my PSR's.

The 255's 10 rhythms sound very good. But even for a basic beat, I use the PSR because the rhythms are easier to access and control than they are on the 255 with the elegant minimalism of its controls. Since the 255 only has a three-digit LCD display, the iPad app (a cable or Bluetooth adapter must be purchased separately) provides easier access to the piano's functions, but nothing else. In fact, I don't find the app very user friendly.

Although better than on the lesser models, the sound quality of the 255's internal speakers is just OK. This may be the case with all the portable digital pianos. I know higher end digital pianos have a superior internal speaker setup. And quality stage digital pianos lack internal speakers altogether, requiring external amplification. So I accept the limitations of the 255's internal speakers because the alternatives would be very expensive. I have seen the 255 sold with a sub-woofer, and I think that is something I may consider. But for now I experience the product's best sound quality through a pair of professional headphones.

I use the included sustain pedal, but it moves away from me a half centimeter each time I use it. I am thinking of getting the wooden stand and connecting triple pedal unit because my current X stand wobbles and I would like the pedal to stay in the right place.

Overall I am pleased with my purchase. Through my research, I learned quite a lot about the strengths and limitations of digital pianos under $2000 and continue to feel justified in my decision. The bounce of the emulated piano keys make me feel like I am walking on the moon when I play and I love it.

The Joy of Coffee

My partner and I splurged on an espresso machine recently. This is the culmination of years of making coffee with a variety of methods. Just for the fun of it, I'm going to share some reflections on all this here.

I think I first began drinking coffee as a teenager. It was Starbucks with cream and sugar. I didn't become a real coffee addict until years later when I would need it to get through a work shift or a college class. I drank a lot of Dunkin Donuts coffee, but I was never especially excited about. In fact, I remember the the taste often being off.

A few years ago a friend introduced me to the French press. He may have been convinced that the press produces the best tasting coffee. And in years since, I have had a lot of French press coffee, but mostly because it is often the easiest and most convenient way for me to make a single cup of coffee. Perhaps instant coffee is easier, and I used to do that, but I lost of ability to tolerate it. But I wasn't a coffee snob. I would sometimes drink reheated coffee that had sat in a pot for a whole weekend.

I began occasionally getting iced Americano coffee at a cafe near my office. I think that elevated my standards. The iced Americano I order is two espresso shots with ice and water. It is equal in strength to a typical Starbucks iced coffee. But because it is made to order with espresso, it is as fresh as iced coffee can be. I find that is has a slight nutty flavor that regular iced lacks.

So then I traveled abroad to places where espresso is the standard form which coffee is served and I became addicted to that. I bought a moka pot as an inexpensive way to make espresso. I understand now that while it produces nice coffee, it isn't true espresso.

But now we did it. We had our eye on an espresso machine that would have been quite expensive for us. When we found it nearly half-priced refurbed, we bought it. And it is a blast. The geekery required for getting it right is joyful. To achieve the right pressure and brew speed, you have to grind the beans right and tamp it firmly enough. It seems to matter that I run the machine without grounds first to preheat all the parts.

And the result is real espresso, with texture and flavor you don't get with other methods. A straight shot brings me back to my overseas adventures. A hot Americano is just a good cup of coffee. I'm inept at frothing milk for lattes and cappuccinos, so I will have to practice that.

So coffee is on my mind, now that my household has four different devices for making coffee: a standard drip coffeemaker, a French press, a moka pot, and an espresso machine. 

Stuff

Thinking. Reflecting.

Take Me to the River

SPOILERS BELOW

I'd been very eager to see Take me to the River since seeing a trailer for it last year. It wasn't in many theaters, so I was pleased when it was finally available through a streaming service.

The movie is about Ryder, a Californian teenager attending a family reunion on the Nebraskan farm where his mother grew up. We learn that the family has a history of some kind of sexual impropriety. It is never fully revealed, but the pieces we are given show that it has damaged Ryder's mother, and may be continuing within the new generation.

Ryder, as best we can see, is a well adjusted young man who has developed a healthy sexual identity. He is gay, and he and his family have no problem with that. Online reviews of the movie have pointed out that there isn't explicit bigotry toward him on the farm. His relatives of a similar age make fun of his short shorts, but they are otherwise gentle.

However, much of what we see points toward the Nebraskan relatives being sexually dysfunctional, in contrast with Ryder's comfort with his sexual identity. I wonder if the members of Ryder's extended family are jealous that he is open and at ease with his sexuality, regardless of his orientation. His sexuality is a healthy part of who he is, as opposed to the misdirected sexual energy of the Nebraskans that takes them to dark places.

Perhaps the most charged scene--really a bubble that doesn't pop--is when Uncle Keith teaches Ryder how to handle a gun. Keith had retracted his accusation that Ryder had sexually assaulted Molly, his nine-year-old daughter, and has welcomed him into his home for a meal. Then they are there on the porch passing a loaded weapon back and forth. Is Keith just being kind, teaching Ryder a life skill he couldn't gain in California? Or is it part of a sick mind game of a dangerous and manipulative person?

Keith oddly leaves Molly and Ryder together in her bedroom with the door closed. And Keith whispers in Molly's ear before Molly takes Ryder to the river where she does what she calls a "chicken fight" sexual horsey game to him when sitting on his shoulders. Thank you to online reviewers who wonder whether Keith is tying to get Ryder to molest his daughter.

Ryder has gown up separated from his Nebraskan roots, and he should be thankful for that. But being disconnected from one's roots leads to a hungry curiosity to discover what has been missed. Ryder discovers it, with its layers of pain and shame that burden his mother. Upon discovering the abuse she experienced, he has the wherewithal, even as a teenager, to respond with love and support. It is that whole and loving person that moves about the family reunion bemusedly, patiently navigating through the strange surface of a troubled family.

Brazil on My Mind

My love affair with Brazil, that began a few years ago when I was studying the Portuguese language, has been rekindled by the Rio Olympics.

Brazil is a continental, megadiverse, former European colony, which, not unlike the United States, has long since eclipsed its colonial parent. More people live just within the City of Sao Paulo than in all of Portugal. It still of course has a third world edge to it with extreme poverty, inequality, racism, and crime. Its infrastructure is in rough shape. It has a reputation for reverting to its political and economic norm of instability and chaos after occasional progress. If the current president is impeached as expected, it won't be the first. Heck, the country has even had a sitting president commit suicide.

Brazil's story isn't all tragic. The country's return to robust democratic governance a generation ago after multiple bouts with dictatorial rule is inspiring. And runaway inflation seems to be a thing of the past, with an almost normal economy which, though in rough shape now, grew through the recent worldwide financial crisis.

I sometimes find myself lost in the beauty of Bossa Nova, a music that only Brazil could create. African Samba and American Jazz were mixed, resulting in something different than both. That kind of mad science musical experimentation lived on in Brazil's later Tropicalia movement.

There is great beauty to be found in Brazil's architecture. But nothing is as wild as Oscar Niemeyer, a sort of Architect Laureate for the nation. He designed the iconic mid-century buildings of Brasilia, and countless more, as he continued working into the the 21st Century.

Brazil created the biggest innovation in urban transportation since the first subway trains. Cities all over the world are building Bus Rapid Transit systems, inspired by the first in Curitiba. The idea is that there is nothing sacred about trains; a creatively designed bus system can move as many people as a subway system and just as fast, at a fraction of the cost.

So this American is watching the Olympics with fondness, enjoying the backdrop of a fascinating and beautiful country.

The four seasons of Kunstler's World Made by Hand

I had the pleasure of reading The Harrows of Spring, James Howard Kunstler's final installment in his world made by hand series. The four books align with four seasons in a year in the life of the small Upstate New York farming village of Union Grove after the collapse of modern technoindustrial society.

The books are as follows:

Summer: World Made by Hand
Fall: The Witch of Hebron
Winter: A History of the Future
Spring: The Harrows of Spring

I think the collection would adapt well into a TV miniseries. The characters and storytelling are fairly solid, and four novels could fill a number of television hours. If done well (as much television is lately), I would love to see the preindustrial scenery visualized. With decent acting, it would be lovely to see some of Kunstler's peculiar actor's come to life on the screen.

I usually find myself trying to hold onto my own version of a novel's imagery against the threat of the actual visuals of a film adaption. Maybe I would only want to see my own version of World Made by Hand's imagery adapted to a miniseries.

Empire Falls

So I just watched the HBO miniseries adaption of Richard Russo's empire falls and found it to be freaking great. I think it helped sate a new hunger I have for quality storytelling. I made the mistake of starting to watch the new TV Series American Gothic, which is a little fun but a lot of awful.

In American Gothic, the characters are very poorly developed. The cartoonist looks like a cartoonist. The junky looks like a junky. The guy who ran off to live in the Maine woods looks just like someone who would do that. The main characters of Empire Falls are complex and evoke our curiosity and empathy. These Mainers are a breath of fresh air to me.

The story of Empire Falls is hence driven by these masterfully crafted characters. But the declined Maine mill town of Empire Falls is a finely crafted layer in the story too. The town's textile mill was the community's source of prosperity before it closed and residents continue to mourn its loss and fantasize about it reopening a generation later.

The American rust belt is not limited to the Midwest. To be sure, Boston, New York City, and some smaller pockets of the Northeast are very prosperous. But the region is also peppered with post-industrial cities that continue to struggle. Examples include Lawrence, Fitchburg, and Lowell, Massachusetts; Biddeford and Skowhegan, Maine; and Rochester, and Buffalo, New York. Buffalo, in fact, is in about as bad shape as Detroit.

I'd be interested in other stories with a backdrop of deindustrialization. It is an big part of the story of late Twentieth Century America and it needs to be told. It is certainly part of Maine's story.

The Deeper History of the United States

There is a certain beauty in how place names in the United States are a mix of English, French, Spanish, and native. Here in the northeast there is certainly an abundance of Indian place names. Examples include Massachusetts, Connecticut, Nantucket, Narraganset, Pawtucket, and Montauk. And many places with European names have known Indian names that live on in one way or another, such as Shawmut (Boston) and Naumkeag (Salem).

The Northeast has no monopoly on Indian place names; about half of all states have pre-European names. But what is peculiar here is that while there are countless Indian names, there are virtually no Indians here.

When half of our places have Indian names, but there are no Indians, one has to wonder what happened. The answer is partly cruel European domination that resulted in the relocation and death of countless natives. But 70-90% of the Indian population of coastal Massachusetts died of infectious disease prior to the landing of the Pilgrims. I will always wonder how things would have turned out if disease was not a factor. The natives would have been stronger than the weak and unprepared Pilgrims and any of the settlers that followed in the decades after. Without being decimated by disease, the Indians could have adopted enough European technology and practices to remain equal enough to have a real voice in the disposition of their lands. The map of North America would look vastly different than it does today.

At any rate, there are indeed surviving Northeastern Indians, such as the Mashantucket Pequots, and their story is remarkable. At one point, only two woman were living year round on their tribal land in southeastern Connecticut. The Pequots have since gained federal recognition, developed a major casino as their tribe's economic engine, and drawn hundreds of tribe members back to the land.

There are upwards of 3,000,000 to 5,000,000 American Indians today. No one will ever know exactly what North America's Indian population was in 1491. Wikipedia references estimates ranging from 1,000,000 to 18,000,000. But the current number is reassuring, as there are millions of descendants of natives that link this country to its pre-Columbian roots.

Indian history is a deeper history of the United States. Our story begins not in 1620 or 1492, but instead around 12,000 BC when migrants first crossed the Bering Strait.

Moon (film)

I was disappointed with The Martian because it could have been a powerful space exploration drama, but for the film's insistent comedy. So I was pleased to see that Moon, released in 2009 but unnoticed at the time by me, did not have the same problem.

Moon has a plausible enough premise. In the near future, a private company is harvesting the moon's raw materials for use on earth. The robotic machinery is overseen by Sam Bell, the single moon resident on a 3-year contract. Gerty, the artificial intelligence that assists him in his work, is the closet thing Sam has to human company.

The movie has a handful of humorous scenes. But they are very dark. Plus, they are integral to the story. I think that in film, sex and violence work only when they are important to the story. Otherwise they are gratuitous. The Martian makes me think the same about comedy in a dramatic movie.

I suppose someone might think the lone astronaut's interactions with an AI are too similar to such scenes in 2001: A Space Odyssey. But I think that is going to be an increasingly common element of movies as space exploration and AI become more than fictional speculation.

Overall, Moon is smart and solid. The freaky part of the story, which I don't want to spoil for those who have yet to see it, is Charlie Kaufman level creativity. Moon's director and co-writer Duncan Jones (who happens to be David Bowie's son) may have a promising film career ahead.

Woody Allen's Irrational Man

Thanks to Comcast OnDemand, I finally was able to see Woody Allen's Irrational Man. It had been at the top of my movies-to-see list for quite awhile, despite tepid reviews.

Something about the movie reads like a novel to me. It is intellectual and philosophical and not very Hollywood. It may have been characterized by my cable company as a comedy, but it isn't one.

I found the movie hugely satisfying. Any story set on a small private New England college will feel warm to me. Maybe that is because my favorite novel, which will always be in my heart, Donna Tartt's The Secret History, is set at a vaguely fictional small private New England college. Also, both novels center on a murder that felt justified, but destroys the killers.

Deep into his senior years, Woody Allen is making great movies. I loved the Curse of the Jade Scorpion, which was one of the final films he starred it. Removing himself from the cast allowed him to grow using other leads. So has setting his films outside New York. In Match Point, he owns London as he tells a thrilling tale of lust, murder, and luck. The French capital is all his in Midnight in Paris, where he brings the the 1920s French cultural scene to life.

I don't like every Woody Allen movie. He acknowledges that they don't all turn out well. But I think he is like those famous architects who reach their prime as old men.

The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon

I knew reading the beautifully titled novel, The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon, was a risk. After reading Tom Spanbauer's more recent novel, the self-absorbed virtual autobiography I Loved You More, had been a waste of my time.

The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon's narrator is a young Indian bisexual prostitute in Idaho in the early 20th Century determined to discover the meaning of his Indian name and connect with his roots, severed by his mother's early death. Shed, as he is nicknamed, narrates with a raw innocence, as if all the world is new. His narration is often lightly poetic. When he lacks the right words, his descriptions are pure and beautiful.

The novel presents sexuality openly and graphically, and in doing so, it explores gender, identity, and life itself the way only Shed's mix of ignorance and enlightenment can. Spanbauer is fearless and shies away from nothing, with his unembellished scenes of rape and incest. This is not unlike Michel Faber's The Crimson Petal and the White, which reads like a Dickens novel if Dickens had included included honest sexuality. Here we have an American Western novel with honest sexuality.

The cruel and righteous Mormons of Excellent, Idaho will make you laugh. The starving Indians clinging to the remnants of their culture will move you. The ending will turn Shed's world upside down.

It is odd to me that the pure fiction of The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon feels more real to me than Spanbauer's more autobiographical I Loved You More. Spanbauer has a real gift to put himself in the shoes, the body, and the history of someone so unlike himself. The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon is a mind expanding work of art.

Your body wants you to regain weight

A fascinating article in the New York Times reveals what most people already know: that substantial weight loss is often followed by weight gain.

Fourteen contestants from the 2009 season of The Biggest Loser participated in a study of how they fared keeping their weight off long term. Five regained all the weight or more. The single contestant who kept the weight off (and actually went on to lose more) happens to have lost the least during the show. The season's winner, Danny Cahill, lost a whopping 239 pounds, but has since gained 100 back. Danny was a fitness and diet warrior, working out hours each day and eating a consistently careful diet.

The problem , researchers say, is that the body fights weight loss by slowing metabolism and altering the production of hormones related to one's sense of hunger and fullness. That makes great sense biologically. We and our animal ancestors evolved to avoid starving to death.

The implications of this are serious. Perhaps people who are overweight should focus first on maintaining one's weight--that is, avoiding gaining more weight. Then we may need to know more about what pace of weight loss is maintainable in the long term without substantially altering metabolism and hunger hormones.

It may be be that we who are overweight need to accept ourselves this way. If you are fat now, you will likely be fat a few years from now, even if you aggressively lose weight between then and now. Your body today is your body tomorrow.

Birdman!

I've heard it said that this is a golden age of television. There are countless phenomenal shows worth our attention. There are still good movies being made, but seemingly fewer. I finally had a chance to see the critically acclaimed Birdman, one of these better movies. I was impressed with its originality, self-reflection, dark humor, and ability to bring out that humanity in difficult characters. It made me think of some of the best movies from recent years. Or maybe not all that recent, since as I age, 20 years ago feels like yesterday.

Birdman feels like a play adapted to the screen, since 90% of it takes place in one building (a theater, no less), and it doesn't use elaborate sets. It is a lot like the movie Doubt in that sense, which was in fact adapted from the stage.

Riggan Thomson, the protagonist in Birdman, is not that different from Bob Harris in Lost in Translation: an aging Hollywood acting trying to find his place in the world.

The movie is a big middle finger to blockbuster action films. The viewer gets the sense that although his Birdman trilogy was a tremendous financial success, it did not give Thomson much fulfillment as an actor. When a theater critic tells him that he is not an actor, but a mere celebrity, he does not dispute that, knowing that he is out to change that through his stage performance.

Charlie Kaufman's Synecdouche, New York, is way too radical a movie to even register much in my mind. But I caught an echo of it in Birdman with the story within a story that ties into the protagonist's evolution.

These comparison's are not to put Birdman down. The opposite, really. The movie shares qualities with these other films that are some most creative, original, and mind-expanding of recent years. And kudos again to Michael Keaton. After decades on film, with Birdman and Spotlight he is now doing his best work.

I loved this novel less

Online summaries drew me to Tom Spanbauer's novel, I Loved You More, about a Young Gay Writer in NYC in the 1980s, who is then a middle-aged writer with AIDS in Portland, Oregon in the 1990s. And there is certainly a quality to the book. Spanbaur's prose is unique and personal. He captures eloquently how AIDS took the protagonists' health, sanity, and the lives of his friends and lovers.

I was not much moved by the protagonist's drama. His dad was too macho, his mom nuts, his sister too much of a twisted parent filling in where his parents lapsed. And the phenomenon of people unexpectedly surviving AIDS thanks to the new drug cocktails in the mid 1990s is more compellingly covered in Paul Russell's War Against the Animals.

I picked up Spanbaur's early Novel, The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon, because the title is beautiful and what I know of the book sounds interesting. I hope it is not another mistake.

Badass Marathoners

I've never been into major league sports culture. It all looks like thuggery on the field and douchebaggery in the stands. It seems cruel when sports reporters put a microphone in front of a footballer so that he can stumble through an explanation of how his team won by scoring the most points. And I am so freaking tired of hearing sports fans say "we won" or "we lost", as though they are out there on the field playing.

But let me tell you what moves me. I watched some of the Boston marathon coverage today and I saw a man who lost his legs in the 2013 marathon bombing running the race with prosthetics. There are paraplegics who compete on the wheelchair race. Parents run pushing a disabled child.

These people are badass, but there is no thuggery there. They are peaceful warriors fighting to be their very best. The accept the reality of their limitations, but fight to excel anyway.

That inspires me.

The folly of annual job reviews

The idea of annual job reviews makes sense. Employers should want to be attuned to employees' performance for obvious reasons.  But in all the jobs I've had, there has never been a sensible review process.

At one job I had (let's call it Job A), my annual raise was tied to my annual performance review. I think that is fair as can be. However, the company levied a substantial penalty for the first sick day one took. If they are trying to reward perfect attendance, they should spread the word about this policy to all new employees. (Maybe it is in the handbook.) But I know very well that the best employees who bring the most value to a company are going to take some sick days. And they will probably be turned off by the expectation that an ideal employee take no sick days. I do, though, respect my employer at Job A for having a substantive annual review process, tied to compensation, for fairly low-paid and unskilled employees. It sends the message that they take interest in their workers.

At Job B, which was higher paying and involved the welfare and safety of the people I served, there was not a serious annual review process. It was a self-evaluation that was turned into a supervisor. Once or twice the supervisor met with me after, but did not discuss the review with me. Maybe the self-evaluation could have been more valuable if the supervisor expressed interest in it.

Job C is a professional position where my supervisor takes a very real interest in his staff's performance. Annual reviews are upon request of the employee and consist of a simple meeting. This is not a very serious review to me. But because the supervisor takes an interest year round in performance, it might not be needed.

I am trying something new now. I am a dedicated professional who wants to excel in his career. Since no annual review process has helped me much, I am doing my own. I am making a confidential table of my strengths, weaknesses, accomplishments, and failures as I see them. I think I will then go through the table and come up with ideas for addressing my shortcomings and building on the good things. I may then pull a limited number of goals from all that that can guide my professional development. Job B required an annual self-evaluation, but the employer didn't value it. I think the difference with a confidential self-evaluation is that I can be free to be honestly and deeply introspective.