Last Night

Shooting Stars

It has been awhile since I've sat down and written anything longer than a status update or twit (a term I use instead of "tweet", referring to the brief Twitter posts); a letter or three to my older brother, an press release here and there or a short blog post over on my Scouting blog are about the limit of my writing, and that is not really acceptable of myself.  Since childhood I've been a writer, one with a tendency to mimic the style of other, better writers, longing to find my own voice, but a writer nonetheless; chronicling the events and experiences of my life, describing and judging the world around me and those in it.  However, for the last few decades my mind has been too frazzled, stretched too thin as I have tried to deal with personal disabilities caused by injuries incurred after my time in Europe; a brain doing the best it can to keep itself together amidst being an active parent and trying to give back to my community, to leave a legacy for my children, and for others, of being an advocate for youth, for the disadvantaged, for our elders, for our veterans, for the lost ones needing a light in their dark worlds.  My job of being a parent, the only job I have ever had that really mattered at all, is most important and my focus has had to be in their best interest.  Food, shelter, clothing were first and foremost and then everything else that comes with raising children in the 21st Century, which is expensive no matter how you slice it.  But soon our youngest will be ready to leave the nest and then, perhaps there will be an easing on the grey matter, my nerves may relax, maybe soon I will be able to sit at my keyboard and hammer out one of dozens of novel outlines that have been stewing in my vaults.  Knowing myself, I doubt it, but we will have to see.  Even this piece, another blog post, will only amount to a few hundred words of disco jointed thoughts and tangents that, hopefully, will bring you, faithful reader, to the conclusion of, which is close, hang on...a conclusion and ending as we wait to check out the meteor shower.  My youngest, feeling the effects of allergens and not well, and I, along with my wife, are going to check them out tonight.  We've tried in the past but overcast nights and over sleeping have prevented us, more excuses like mine for a lack of writing, however tonight, as my babies are close to leaving me and Wifey with an empty nest, we are going to watch the shooting stars.  Good night folks.  

Duck Season, Sheep Season

The character of Doctor Sheldon Cooper on the CBS program The Big Bang Theory is what The Coyote from the Bugs Bunny cartoons would call a "super-genius", someone not only very intelligent, but so intelligent that they are actually stupid about things most people take for granted; social interactions, interpersonal communication, sarcasm…but it was during one episode of the series when his Mother, Mary, played by the wonderful Laurie Metcalf, tries to explain that sometimes being smart and letting everyone know how smart a person is may not be the best way to proceed, when Dr. Cooper inquires why, she replies quite loudly, "Because people don't like it," and it is a shame that I find myself in that position again, having to explain something, at least the way I see it, that it is obvious they do not see and they are going to be pissed or discount what I have to say because it goes against their beliefs, the lies they've told themselves.

It's quite simply this one statement that will make me either a pariah or a kook, but in reality should be able to stand on its own.  The whole Phil Robertson of Duck Commander fame and A&E Network fall-out, backlash, and reinstatement was nothing but a ploy, masterfully calculated and implemented by someone at the network, probably with full knowledge and participation by the Robertson family or at least their agents or representatives.  It was designed to do what it was intended to do, it got people talking about the show, and it got placated the irate fans, guaranteeing that the network and everyone with a finger in the pie of this latest "reality" show craze will reap the benefits…including the family members who are so religiously above all the nonsense.  Yes, I am positive they are a "religious" family, in their way.  I've discussed here and elsewhere the family history.  This has actually nothing to do with the Robertson family, their beliefs, their faith or anything else other than avarice, greed, and manipulation. 

The network probably arranged for the QG interviewer to be conveniently left alone with Phil to make certain embarrassing quotes would be given that would be inflammatory to many different diverse societal divisions.  The network executives probably read the interview before it went to press.  The resulting backlash not only from the LGBT community but also the NAACP was expected and anticipated.  A&E appears to make concessions, suspending Phil Robertson from filming.  Were they filming when they suspended him?  So, for the six or seven days of his suspension, which was over the Christmas build-up days and post-days, he wasn't being filmed, but the rest of the family was?  They, as Christians wanted to have camera people, staffs of individuals working instead of being with their families so they could make another episode and get paid another paycheck?  Sounds Christian.  Anyway, back to the point.

A&E appears to appease the outraged societal concerns.  Social media, long identified as a useful marketing and manipulation tool by the Corporations, sounds off and backs the movement to "Support Phil"…the network is vilified as the enemy of Free Speech and Free Expression and is appearing to concede to public opinion and reinstate Phil Robertson.  And the play goes on.  For another year the money making Gold Calf of Duck Dynasty will reign supreme on the shopping lists of Americans, and The Sheep will continue to praise, celebrate and purchase whatever the Puppet Masters at the Corporation tell them to. 

See what I mean by my intro?  People will be mad; they will see me as attacking the Robertsons, because true fans of the series believe they honestly know these people.  But these people are not like you and me.  They are Salt of the Earth people, even though they share some of the same values, habits, traditions, and feelings that you do, they are not like you; they are actors in a "reality" show.  That is tantamount to believing that the professional wrestlers fighting each other on your television screen are really angry with each other, it is "entertainment"…it is not real.  If this were Ancient Greece you would be going to see the Christians fed to the Lions, but it is not, this is the mindless entertainment that is provided for you by The Corporation to satisfied and satiate you until it no longer is effective, then they will change the Game and give you another Golden Calf to praise. 

"Beware the Trappings of Fame."  Fame changes everyone.  The most innocent little girl, hired for a television commercial will easily turn into a nightmare of demands and hysterical fits when their smallest whim is not met.  Imagine what a full-grown person would do?  Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely.  The Corporation is that innocent little girl, born to create something to pacify the people, to make a Man feel good when he returns home from his daily toil.  At first it was Radio programs, The Adventures of Boston Blackie, Amos & Andy, and The Jack Benny Show but it was replaced by Television, The One-Eyed Monster that captures our attention in our youth.  Many alive today grew up with Television as our Baby-Sitters, raised on cartoons, Sesame Street, The Electric Company, Saturday Morning Cartoons…and that is when The Corporation had us.  They would show us Commercials, tell us what Christmas and Birthday gifts we wanted, and our Parents would buy them, to Satisfy us, to Satiate us.  It told us what to drink, what to eat, what clothes to wear, the list goes on and on. 

Today we are Sheep, well….not all of us, but most of us.  We respond like the mindless Puppets we can be.  But there is an answer.  Unplug.  Turn Off the Corporation.  If you believe in the morals, the ethics, the religious overtones that the Robertson family claims to represent, then the best way to strike back at the ones that would not let him have his Freedom of Speech, the best way to strike back at those that returned him to the screens is to stop watching all together.  But you'll never see a Boycott Duck Dynasty Facebook group.  You'll see no Hashtag flood with #DownwithDuckDynasty.  Because the Sheep need to eat, so if you are still reading this to the end, I know you are not necessarily one of the Sheep but the Sheep, if they even clicked to the whole article or not, probably did not read to the end, so could care less…it's time to Feed The Sheep and soon it will be time to Shear Them.  Good Night and Have a Pleasant Tomorrow.  

The Master Deceivers

We are the masters of deception; we deceive ourselves, we deceive others, we build lies of varying degrees from white to, well, to be honest I've never learned the other color levels of lies...I guess "red" should be the worst level of lie. At this time of year, the winter holidays as I write this, it seems we lie even more; we lie about our plans, our purchases, our traditions. Yes, I'm not dense, I know why we do it, that does not mean it is not a lie, or bearing false witness, to use a popular religious term. Let me say I am a religious, faith-filled believer in the teachings of Jesus Christ, taught from a young age and having continued my religious education ever since, and it continues and hopefully always will, but I am also an intelligent person with a scientific mind that accepts empirical archeological, biological, astronomical, and historical evidence to know that organized religion is the product of humanity. See, told you we lie to ourselves. Is that the "red" lie? Is that the worst lie we tell ourselves? I am continuously torn; I believe in the God of my father, my grandmother, my great-grandfather and beyond, but I also know that the Gods of the Egyptians did not exist, there was no Inubus or Ra...I know Zeus did not exist, neither did Jupiter, Hera, Neptune, Odin, or any of those "pagan" Gods...see the problem, continuously torn between faith and logic, religion and science.

A wise man recently told me, "I don't need the Bible to tell me not to kill my neighbor," actually I'm paraphrasing the conversation, so in essence I deceived with my use of quotes, in this Digital Age the use of quotes is another deception, another lie we use, we tell ourselves and we proliferate with our social media posts, tweets, comments, likes and shares. I've long pushed, via my own social media presence, for researching quotes before sharing, but that is another blog post. Our focus is on the Master Deceiver, a term used for Lucifer, or Satan...the Devil, but if we accept all the facts of our history, and if we have intelligence we must, then isn't the Devil us?

Hold up, you say, dear reader, fellow traveller....first you tell us we all lie, then you claim to be religious and a believer, then you contradict that with science, you criticize our sharing incorrect quotes, then accuse us of being Satan? Well, yes.

We create discord. We deceive others. We deceive ourselves. We deceive to gain. We deceive to achieve. We are the Masters of Deception. We are The Beast. From the first hominid that killed it's neighbor to have it's mate, it's possessions, we became The Beast. We continue in this tradition today. Wrong, you scream, I am civilized, I own a Bentley, I have an iPhone and Rolex or I have a BMW, an iPad and I don't know another fancy watch company name at the moment. Every human being is only 24 hours or so away from the snarling, sister raping, jungle beasts from which we sprang with the proper, or rather improper, harsh treatment and circumstances; take everything away from someone, ruin the entire life, strip them bare to the bones, then see the true face of humanity. Pretty dark stuff for Christmas Eve Eve, huh? Welcome to the jungle, baby.

The recent headlines about A&E network celebrity Phil Robertson, the inventor, former stand-out college football player, and genius behind Duck Commander, his highly successful duck call business, who made comments to GQ magazine, comments that enraged members of the black community and the LGBT community, are part of why i started this blog entry. Now, I must point out that not everyone that is black or gay was upset, however the leading lobbying groups with the loudest voices complained to A&E, which quickly announced that Phil would be taken off the air for an indeterminate period of time. The fans of Phil's family's "reality" show, Duck Dynasty, took to the Digital Age version of the town square, social media; petitions were begun, support groups were formed, thousands upon thousands have rallies behind him and his beliefs. But what if it is all deception? What if A&E knew about Phil's tendency to spew his version of Christianity, to be very vocal about his prejudice against those unlike himself? It seems most fans of the show agree the network knew how Phil Robertson felt about his faith and his beliefs. Now, a fan of the show would try to attack me and say "Phil ain't prejudiced," but as I understand the definition, judging someone based on one or two observations, interactions, or just based on a learned education at home or in their community which leads to opinions about an entire race, religion, culture, sexual orientation, gender, political affiliation or a myriad of other divisions we create to separate ourselves from some but align ourselves with others. Am I right? Then if so, Big Phil Robertson claiming blacks in the South in pre-Civil Rights time were happier, that all homosexuals are going to hell along with drunks, adulterers, and others on list he pulled from First Corinthians, is prejudiced, wrong and really not as intelligent as he claims. Just because he has a college degree (big deal...a four-year degree is impressive, but have you seem what his degree was in? Google it yourself) does not make him, or anyone intelligent. Let's begin by firstly saying the King James Version of The Holy Bible was translated in 1602, and a pretty inaccurate translation of the original text. Secondly the First Letter to the Corinthians was a letter by Paul to the people if Corinth, explaining that since they had went Christian, Paul had been hearing some rough stories of un-Christ like behavior going on, hence the list. A more accurate translation of the passage makes no reference to homosexuality but rather the practice in Corinth of older, powerful (financially, politically, religiously) men taking advantage of younger, softer boys, sound familiar?

But what right does Phil have to stand aloft on his high horse judging blacks, homosexuals, drunks and others? I thought according to The Holy Bible he professes to follow that we were taught to love everyone and to judge not, lest thee be judged. But, see again we get derailed by our deceptions; I began this blog with Big Phil in mind, but what if A&E knew Phil would do this? His assigned public relations person, the buffer between the press and the real Robertsons (not the scrubbed television reality folks) conveniently was left behind while the reporter and Big Phil went off on ATVs, where the reporter let Phil be Phil. They knew the interview would be inflammatory. They probably approved the copy before it went to press. It begins a firestorm. Everyone gets upset. Fans rally. Ratings for the new season will go through the roof. Everyone gets richer. Merchandise continues tingly off Wal-Mart shelves. The family gets paid. The network executives get paid. Everyone has a great holiday. Everyone except the fan who is upset, angry, manipulated unknowingly, deceived without their knowledge or recognition of the deception.

No matter your faith. No matter your sexual orientation. No matter your race. Each individual is an important part of our shared humanity, they deserve respect. You do not have to like it. You don't have to like them. They don't have to like you. I don't like many people, and I know many don't like Me, I am okay with that and if they are not, well screw them anyway. It is the way of humanity. We will never always get along, we are The Beast, we will always compete, war, argue, complain and deceive, at least be honest about it.


Sent from the Beaches along The Mighty Flat River.

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Thank The Comedy

6.)  Comedy.  Yesterday I was inspired to write a very long [well, not that long, come on, really is our attention span that short we cannot take time to read maybe fifteen minutes worth of text?  Bet if it had a cute picture of a cat, you might.] thankful message about Music, ranking it #5 in my November Month of Thankfulness, my friend had written about the effects of comedy and music in her life…citing George Carlin for inspiration.  Comedy has always played a role in my life as well, and this friend, she inspired me to not only examine music's role in the soundtrack of my life but the effects comedy had on my life.  So, long story short, it's Comedy…Number Six for 2013 is Comedy for me, I am Thankful for Comedy [you can stop here and shuffle on to the next status post about kittens, pandas, dolphins or whales…historical memes, funny pictures, or yard sale post, but if you want to take a chance…follow along, but it's not for the feint of hearts].

 

The first comedian who's adult humor first came to my attention was not George Carlin, like my friend, but Redd Foxx.  Yes, Fred G. Sanford from the popular sitcom Sanford & Son was one of my first, true comedy heroes.  His character on the sitcom was gruff, sarcastic, bombastic, a true junk yard showman without the stage, although surprisingly look back over the seasons, they sure figured many a ways to highlight Foxx's stage talents; singing, dancing, clowning.  But it was not Foxx's work on Sanford & Son that inspired me, it was an old 8-track tape my Father had, Redd Foxx in a Nutshell.  The 8-track was black with a red cover, it had an image of the man himself on it. 

My Father owned his own businesses; a produce market, a donut shop, a restaurant, and several thrift stores and he would drive his own truck; panel trucks, small delivery trucks, 18-wheeler big rigs, anything to save himself money on picking up inventory.  While he was gone on one of his many travels to Florida, Arkansas, Indiana…we kids would snoop.  We found the 8-track and when I say "we" it was my older brothers Joe and Harold, along with little brother Jeffery.  The words coming out of the speakers transformed me.  It was not the clean, top rated American sitcom humor, it was the back alley, dark lit raunchy comedy of the street, and I was immediately hooked. 

From Redd Foxx it wasn't far to stroll to Richard Pryor, from Pryor to Eddie Murphy to Carrot Top.  Yeah, I'm not pleased with that last one either.  Damon Wayans, Dave Chappelle.  George Carlin, George Burns.  Jerry Lewis, Jerry Seinfeld.  Comedy reigned supreme in my life.  A good joke could get you out of a tight situation.  It allowed people to feel more comfortable around you.  I was often the "new kid" at schools, as our family moved, gypsy-like…like roaming carnival folk, and it was difficult to make new friends by being myself, I didn't know who, what I was.  But comedy, that would break the ice. 

Jimmy Carter.  I began doing impersonations of Jimmy Carter on the playground in Elementary School.  It got laughs.  It was gold.  Later it was darker comedy.  But Comedy was there.  I was an avid, and still am, avid student of comedy.  Abbott and Costello.  Burns and Allen.  Hope and Crosby.  The Marx Brothers.  Fatty Arbuckle.  Charles Chaplin.  My education was immense.  Martin and Lewis.  The Smothers Brothers.  Jack Lemon and Walter Matthau.  Lenny Bruce, although to be honest I have never heard a Lenny Bruce act, I respected for what he stood for; that sometimes the best comedy comes from those awkward, nasty, dirty, filthy aspects of life that everyone experiences, to one extent or another across all of the world.  In Living Color.  Mad Magazine.  Cracked Magazine.  Animal House.  National Lampoon.  Pauley Shore [again, not happy about it but will still watch Encinco Man or The Son-in-Law anytime it's on]. 

Ronald Reagan.  Now, I know what you are thinking, how was Reagan funny?  Well, remember the Genesis video?  The puppets?  Kills me everytime.  So, on this the Sixth Day of November…I want to recognize how thankful I am for Comedy.  It would ease my pain.  When stuff wasn't going right in my life, when times were dark…when I thought my world would end [usually over some woman, that's how it is when you are a young romantic], I could throw in a Road Movie or Duck Soup and I would end up laughing. 

I still prefer Comedies over Dramas.  Comedies over Science Fiction even.  Give me a Comedic Science Fiction Sitcom…whoa Baby I am there.  So, today, dear Reader…take a moment and think of the comedians and the comedy that has played in your life.  I once saw Emo Phillips in concert at a Funny Bone, I also once met the Russian Female Comedian Ivana Humpalot.  [Not really, just hope you got the joke.]

Thank The Music

Music.  Plain and simply, I am thankful for music.  Music has played a very significant role in my life, and I believe in the lives of most.  I was raised on Elvis Presley and Bobby Darrin, Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra all from my mother, my father contributed 1970s country and western music (when I type those words "country and western", I cannot help but think of the way the lady bartender in The Blues Brothers says it when questioned on what kind of music usually plays at Bob's Country Bunker…"we have both kinds; country AND western", see this is my point, which I will inevitably make somewhere); the works of Freddy Fender, Hank Williams, Tanya Tucker and Razzy Bailey and Mel Tillis…this was the music of my youth.  I remember listening around the family stereo; the record player/8-track/AM-FM stereo where Mom would play her Elvis records.  I would sing along, and then I began to perform.  I would pretend to be Elvis, lip syncing before it was cool. 

Eventually, it came the time in a young man's life and I bought my first album, well, actually my younger brother and I combined our savings and we, together, bought our first album…Michael Jackson's Thriller, heaven forgive me, but no, I will not feel bad about it.  It was 1983, we had just moved to a new town and Motown was celebrating an anniversary and the Jacksons performed, and Michael introduced the Moonwalk.  Jeffery and I took our change, rode our bicycles to the local music store and we purchased the album.  We used the family stereo, now moved from the Elvis lip syncing (strange MJ and the King's little Princess Lisa Marie [my childhood crush, and fantasy Sugar Momma] would later marry) days of our Breese, Illinois home to our new place across from the abandoned hat factory, the music of Motown was flowing into our home.  My father wasn't happy about it; raised by a bigoted father and grandparents, Pops wasn't a fan of the music, nor it's affect on our culture, he believed, Archie Bunker-style, to stick to the classics. 

It wasn't too many years and I got my next significant album, from one of my best friends, a cassette of the Ghostbusters soundtrack.  The saying "soundtrack" of my life is so true; we each have our own soundtrack, unique to us.  Music gives us that.  I worked, if you could call it that, as a disc jokey a few times, working parties in German-Greek neighborhood bars and American Sports Bars, and I learned from my mentor, a crazy mad man in his own right, that music touches on deep emotions.  A song, just the hint of it, the first few notes, can transport you back to a place in your life, you see that moment, that time frame, almost like through a crystal ball, the clouds of years having hid it from daily use.  We get entrapped with our lives we forget the music of our youth.  My children, thank them so much and bless their hearts, have introduced me to newer music, but of course, by me liking the songs it ruins it for them.  Robin Thicke is cool until Dad wants to sing the song.  That Korean lepruchan was cool until Mom and Dad start doing the Gamora Dance, or whatever it was called.  From the Macarena and the Electric Slide to the Cotton-Eyed Joe, the dances and the music have only changed the performers and the beats, but the music lives in; from the plastic bands, the pre-fabricated industry controlled Uzbekistan's Got Music Challenges to the garage musicians, teenagers trying to make a break for themselves.  Music moves our lives. 

I went to many concerts; The Monkees (my first, with my Home Economics teacher), U2 the year the Cardinals had won a World Series and Bono came onstage in a red, Cardinals jacket, there was Nazareth and Kansas in a German School Gymnasium, .38 Special in a bar called (no kidding) The Flaming Mug, Night Ranger, Steve Miller Band, Waylon Jennings, Dwight Yoakum, but the greatest concert experience was The Rolling Stones.  Again, music drove my life, my German girlfriend was a fan, bought tickets to the show at the Munich Olympic Stadium.  I listened to every album the Stones had recorded; I found gems I had never heard of, I was well versed in every song they had produced.  The concert was insane.  The performance inspired.  I will never forget, well…maybe should say, I hope to never forget.  Today, having drifted away from my love of music of late…hearing the strains of Honky Tonk Woman will make me want to belt out in song.  I've done karaoke in my younger days, I've performed on stage with musicians…I cannot carry a note in a bucket with a handle, but the fire is in me.  The music is in me.  The music is in all of us.  We carry it, inside, the song of our people, the song of our lives, the song of our journey. 

So, very long post extremely overdone, I am most thankful for Music…and the role it has always played in my life.