Walter Cronkite and Edward R. Murrow must be turning over in their graves.

So, I'm watching the national evening news and they keep promising "much more". But, so far there hasn't been much. The lead story is a speculative story on the chance that a major terrorist has been killed in Mali. Of course none of it has been confirmed and this particular terrorist has survived 2 previous claims that he had been killed. Should this be a lead story? No wonder the major networks are no longer viable news resources. 

Then there's the sink hole! Possibilities of sink holes a reality for 40% of the country. Where can we go? What really is the threat? Should we all be concerned? Should 40% of us be concerned? Finally, some TV stars got stuck for an hour on an elevator. Oh my god!

Walter Cronkite and Edward R. Murrow must be turning over in their graves. They may even be glad to be dead – given that journalists can no longer sell news stories of any depth. When is the last time that anyone has felt compelled to read their local newspaper? Watched their local TV news?

Does anyone believe all the nonsense that comes out of Washington, D.C. these days? I don't think so. We watch or read the news in utter disbelief and frustration. Have our elected officials learned to play the media as well as all this? I don't think so. No, the media tries so hard to sell advertising that they create stories and hype for whatever they may. Then they harp on it over and over with redundant commentary that could drive us all nuts. The only compelling thing about the news is the level of stupidity that we are all subjected to.

The amazing thing about all this is that higher education has become the right of all. So, we should all have the analytic skill to reject the baloney that we are presented with daily. We have the internet and access to information of all kinds. The threat of "information overload" is real as we try to figure out how best to use all the technological advances we are confronted with. Yet, we have become apathetic regarding the effort that is required to delve into the facts of the matter – whatever that is.

Oh yes, thank you for your lack of analytic skill and apathy – without this, you probably would not have read this.

Some birthdays this week, and some quotes:

January 14
Faye Dunaway ('41) "Years are not important, my dear."

LL Cool J ('68) –  "I don't think you should go around talking trash about people because I think that's how you get your hat handed to you."

January 15
Charo (María del Rosario Pilar Martínez Molina Baeza de Rasten) ('41) –  “What I don’t like is when somebody copies somebody and just adopt it. Like, their own idea … I can tell you, to me, Lady Gaga is Madonna with diarrhea.” 

January 16
Kate Moss ('74) –  "Going to the gym wouldn't be on my list of favorite things to do."

January 17
Michelle Obama ('64) –  "I never cut class. I loved getting As, I liked being smart. I liked being on time. I thought being smart is cooler than anything in the world." 

Muhammad Ali ('42) –  "Friendship... is not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything." 

Betty White ('22) –  “Why do people say "grow some balls"? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding.”

January 18 
Kevin Costner ('55) –  "I'm a big fan of dreams. Unfortunately, dreams are our first casualty in life - people seem to give them up, quicker than anything, for a 'reality.'"

January 19 
Shawn Johnson ("92) –  "After 13 years of hard landings in gymnastics, one ski run had delivered the biggest injury of my career."

Paula Deen ('47) – "Onions and bacon cooking up just makes your kitchen smell so good. In fact, one day I'm going to come up with a room deodorizer that smells like bacon and onions. It's a fabulous smell."

Dolly Parton ('46) –  "I'm old enough and cranky enough now that if someone tried to tell me what to do, I'd tell them where to put it."

• Charo: Caliente 
• Muhammad Ali: speech 
• LL Cool J: I'm Bad   
• Betty White: Adam and Eve (with Johnny Carson)
• Dolly Parton: Jolene 

I laugh at the Baseball Writers of America!

OMG, the Baseball Writers’ Association of America is boycotting the Baseball Hall of Fame this year. How dare they? Perhaps the era of enhancement drugs is wrong, but how do we actually know that? Steroids, their uses, and benefits are well known and like most drugs have side effects which give their application some need for risk analysis. Are sport writers, sports management, medical professionals, or even the public qualified to judge?

First, but surely not most important, I find it interesting that the New York Times would publish three quarters of a blank page to dramatize this year’s choices for baseball’s Hall of Fame. No wonder the newspaper business is in trouble. Who is paying for that space? Was there an advertiser to underwrite the void? It is difficult for me to respect these decisions by either the New York Times or the Baseball Writers’ Association of America.

A word about steroids: how many of us have used steroids? My bet is that most have. How about hydrocortisone? We put it on bug bites, scrapes and scratches, skin ailments, and in inhalers to treat asthma. Hydrocortisone is produced naturally by the adrenal gland, but its manufactured form is widely used and its value is not questioned. Progesterone and estradiol are used every day by millions of women. Anabolic steroids are naturally produced by the body and promote bone and muscle growth. Synthetic versions are the culprit in controversies involving athletes.

Lance Armstrong, Barry Bonds, and Roger Clemens are probably the most known athletes that have dominated the news. Bonds and Clemens were both on the list of those nominated this year as candidates for the baseball Hall of Fame for the first time. Home run sluggers Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa were also passed over by these sportswriters.  Babe Ruth, however, a man of some very questionable moral values, may stand at the highest level of esteem among our athletic heroes.

Let’s look at this issue from a different perspective. What about women who have enhanced their breasts? What about the privileged school children whose families can afford tutors to help them compete for academic success? What about our soldiers who have better weapons on the field of battle? What about Viagra? What about those of us who have ever gotten a job because we knew someone? There are many kinds of enhancements that we all use to get ahead in the world.

So, what’s right? Is it ethically correct for a politician to rely on the influence of lobbyists whose job is to educate rather than base their judgment on emotional ignorance? Is it the right thing for our colleges and universities to promise anything to student athletes other than an education? If we start thinking about these things, we can all come up with examples of the nebulous philosophical questions that we are all faced with.

Athletes are just as human as the rest of us. They seek approval. They seek attention. They love their sport. They seek success. There are any number of levels of dedication and commitment. Our culture encourages all sorts of ethical compromises and then arbitrarily makes judgments on those that we would like to feel we are better than. Athletes are natural targets for our hypocrisy. They were favored growing up. They dated the cheerleaders that we lusted after. They were popular. They earn more money. They make headlines for their personal lives that show they are really no better than the rest of us. They deserve what they get!

But wait, we are Americans! Altruism and high moral standards are an important part of our culture. We are also capitalists and most everything, including sports, can be viewed as a business. Do you think that the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY would exist if not for the tourists who see it as a shrine and make that pilgrimage visit? How many times have we heard questionable human behavior justified by the premise that “it’s not personal, it’s business”? It’s a competitive world out there and we need to succeed to survive. Just ask Darwin.

Therefore, I laugh at the Baseball Writers of America. I laugh at the pretentious New York Times that prints only the “news that is fit to print”.  I laugh at my fellow Americans, and I laugh at myself. How do we fix this?

There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the shades of gray get in…..

The presidential election, Christmas shopping, Thanksgiving, Black Friday, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and finally Christmas – these are major stressors that lead up to the relief and the celebratory beginning of a new cycle – a new year! How does one cope with it all? How do you manage to survive and enjoy the promise that the future holds? 

This year we also have a political cliff to fall off thanks to the idiots we have elected to represent us in governing our country. Doesn’t it occur to anyone that our so-called “fiscal cliff” is the result of legislation dating back to the Reagan administration? In reality, there is a political “cliff” waiting to happen every day in government. We have a system of government that is designed to play on our emotions – politics is based on manipulation of the public will that allows for the empowerment of those who are willing to play the game. Most of us are not – that is why we elect others to do that dirty work. It is a ridiculous mistake to be then outraged by the folly that goes on. It seems much more logical to blame the media for following the drama rather than the facts behind the issues. Facts are really boring, while the drama sells advertising.

We all seem to love the high drama of the human condition. Isn’t that a huge part of what makes pop culture what it is? If it isn’t our political stage, it’s our reality entertainment shows. If it isn’t the spectacle of watching the fits and stops of our society, it’s the painful reality of our friends and families. If it isn’t the mistakes that we make every day in life, it’s the absurdity of what we do to others in order to make ourselves feel better. All the drama that plays upon life’s stage provides the fodder for so much of our social interaction – our common focus for the measure of comparison that gives us a sense of belonging to the great life that we share with others on this planet. This is pop culture!

So, getting back to the stress of the holiday season – the stress season, if you will – are we not all a bit stressed out by now? Can Black Friday be considered a “holiday”? I love this time of year – I loved it during all the years that I worked in retail, and I love it still. As a patriotic American, I celebrate the capitalist element to gift giving. I say let there be a chicken in every pot, and an electronic device in every hand. I hate going to malls, but could not resist making an appearance at the mall on Christmas Eve – just for the fun of it. For many, ignoring the stress of the season it a means of coping with someone else’s perception of reality, while dealing with their own – Christmas Eve shoppers are either in panic mode or simply just enjoy getting it done. There is both efficiency and beauty to behold. Black Friday shoppers, on the other hand, are the suckers who have put far too much importance on a part of life that is really of very minor significance. Black Friday certainly can be considered a holiday – the celebration of a very dark part of the human condition – it is one hell of an example of pop culture. 

My reason for dropping in on the last minute shoppers was to purchase a gift for my terrific spousal unit. We had agreed not to purchase each other gifts this year because we had made a purchase that suited us both – a common purchase that pleased us both equally. Ah, but the rub with this plan is the knowledge that one, or both of us, might ignore the agreement and purchase the token gift to share on Christmas Day. As the very imperfect example of humanity that I am, my strategy called for protecting myself from the possibility that a token gift might be given without reciprocation. There were three possible scenarios here – one that we would both have the small, token gift for each other; or she might have her offering while I did not; and finally that I would have one and she would not. Many years of marriage has taught be that it would be better to be the one with the gift in hand. The worse-case scenario is that she would feel that I had broken the agreement, but the counter to that would be my thoughtfulness. I will not bore you with the final outcome to this tale, but move on to tying these paragraphs together.

The final purchase, the token gift, can always be a book. After decades in the book business, after decades of marriage, after decades of appreciation for our pop culture, my selection was the new biography of Leonard Cohen – I’m Your Man: The Life of Leonard Cohen, by Sylvie Simmons. Cohen’s “Anthem” expresses my mood very nicely – “There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” It also describes our common human condition – we are not perfect, but our ability to step back and look at the drama, look at the humor, look at the hope of our lives is what allows us to enjoy life. Hallelujah!

• Prince Charles on Leonard Cohen
  
• Anthem  
• Hallelujah  
• Suzanne  
• NinaSimone performing Suzanne  

"Anthem"

The birds they sang 
at the break of day 
Start again 
I heard them say 
Don't dwell on what 
has passed away 
or what is yet to be. 
Ah the wars they will 
be fought again 
The holy dove 
She will be caught again 
bought and sold 
and bought again 
the dove is never free. 

Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack in everything 
That's how the light gets in. 

We asked for signs 
the signs were sent: 
the birth betrayed 
the marriage spent 
Yeah the widowhood 
of every government -- 
signs for all to see. 

I can't run no more 
with that lawless crowd 
while the killers in high places 
say their prayers out loud. 
But they've summoned, they've summoned up 
a thundercloud 
and they're going to hear from me. 

Ring the bells that still can ring ... 

You can add up the parts 
but you won't have the sum 
You can strike up the march, 
there is no drum 
Every heart, every heart 
to love will come 
but like a refugee. 

Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack, a crack in everything 
That's how the light gets in. 

Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack, a crack in everything 
That's how the light gets in. 
That's how the light gets in. 
That's how the light gets in.

Bah humbug! Who killed the holiday spirit?

Bah humbug! Who killed the holiday spirit? We’re in the middle of the holiday season and there hasn’t been any snow, temperatures have been more spring-like than late autumn or winter. Complaints, or discussion, about what is the appropriate way to wish someone well this season have been very subdued. Is it really supposed to be “happy holidays” or merry christmas”? Duh? Children don’t even appear to be excited. Is Santa Claus actually dead? Finally?

The Christmas season really is the great American holiday. This is when we truly celebrate our culture. We are capitalists after all, and what says “capitalism” better than Christmas? The Fourth of July? Forget that!

This is our season to be jolly. Let the cash registers ring, hum, and ding! Alright, it’s true – malls are really disgusting, impersonal, torture. Hell, you can’t even find a table in the coffee shop in Barnes and Noble these days. Besides, as conscientious Americans, isn’t it our responsibility to the economy – to our fellow Americans – to buy stuff all year round? Stuff is proof that we are successful and happy. Stuff is our fulfillment. Stuff is really the trophy for our patriotism. Stuff is how we show that we are proud Americans. How else would we know that we are happy?

Much of my life has been spent working in, or with, retail. We have all heard about Black Friday, right? This is when our retail businesses are supposed to finally get “out of the red” and “into the black”, referring to the color of ink in our ledger books. Is this the capitalism that we are supposed to be celebrating though? No wonder that we are all scared to death of the looming “fiscal cliff”. What kind of business model would allow us to speculate on reaching the point where we might turn a profit after 11 months of debt? Has the capitalism of our great American culture come to such a level of stupidity that we are allowed to throw good money after bad for most of the year and hope that we will see a return on that “investment” in the final month? No wonder this holiday season seems to be lacking in excitement.

Business models are supposed to be based on sound logic with reasonable and logical projections for leveraging success toward growth and profit. Promises that investment will fall from the sky – if the gods in the heavens are happy with their own successes – seems a little too much like believing that there really is a Santa Claus. Successful business people need to be just a little more realistic in their approach to how they spend their money. Small profits must come before large profits. We need to be able to pay our bills all 12 months of the year. Hard work, honesty, and responsibility are the American ideals that most reflect our capitalist values. We don’t get something for nothing, and we don’t deserve to make money off the backs of our fellow citizens. We live in a land of opportunity where our values are rewarded, right?

My bookselling experiences during the holiday season have always been exceptional. If I didn’t pay my bills throughout the year, my suppliers would not have shipped the books that I need for the holidays in a timely manner and sales would have been dismal. Basically, that’s a sure path to failure. Black Friday is and idiotic idea that is more about tricking consumers into believing that it is time to get out and do their patriotic capitalistic duty. There is just so much time left to spend your money in order to save. Let’s create some pressure, some panic. Do it now! How awful! Ridiculous!

As a bookseller, the final run up to the holidays is always fun. Books are stuff, but not the dumb stuff that has become the plastic trophies of our cultural misconceptions. In fact, books, as stuff, fail miserably. They are invisible to our neighbors and fellow citizens. Yes, they do contribute to a lot of personal clutter, but they also enrich us. They stay on our shelves, in our houses, and in our minds for far longer than most of the other kinds of stuff. Best of all, we can share them and discuss them with our friends and fellow citizens. As gifts, books are fun because they contain the magic of ideas. Shared ideas are shared ideals – they are shared values. So, a bookseller, has a wonderful opportunity to witness the true joy of the season. When people shop for books, they browse a bookstore’s shelves quietly, contemplatively, using intelligence and empathy to choose what will be most appropriate for each on their shopping lists. This is a miracle to observe, and a privilege to be able to help with.

What has happened to the holiday spirit? What kind of Grinch is it that has tossed the garbage into our minds and gummed up our spirits? Have we been so distracted by the noise that surrounds us? The politics? The marketing? The small-minded, mean-spirited, selfishness of a what’s-in-it-for-me approach to defining our American culture? Let’s keep in mind what this holiday season is all about. Let’s celebrate the spirit of our American capitalist ideas and ideals. Let’s shop for gifts that are NOT just the stuff that our politicians and marketers keep sticking under our noses and look inside ourselves for the pathway to empathy with our family, friends, and fellow citizens. Let’s think about what it means to love and to give. Let’s lighten up the burden and enjoy the process of thinking about others. The holidays are not about stuff. They are not about the economics of stuff. They are not about the responsibility for stuff. They are not about the pride of stuff. They are not about the hunger for stuff. These holidays are for reminding ourselves that we care about people – the idea of people, the ideal of people, the value of people. These holidays are for reminding ourselves that we are of value – not because of our stuff, but because of our people – our families, our friends, and the society that we are a part of.

Alright, now let’s get out there and shop! The American economy needs all the help that it can get. Do it with a smile on your face – wish everyone a merry holiday and a happy christmas, be spiritual, be human, be generous. Don’t burden others with your personal baggage, this is the time to think and be positive. Don’t purchase what you can’t afford and pay your bills when they come due so that next year you will begin the holiday season in a better mood.

A Memory of Dave Brubeck

David Warren Brubeck passed away this week, just shy of his 92^nd birthday. Ironically, he died while en route to a doctor appointment. This is sad news because, like many of my peers, Dave Brubeck had influenced our lives. There was just something about his music that gave a sense of meaning that was different.

A friend had invited me to drive to Detroit for a weekend at the University of Detroit. He had a girlfriend there and she had a friend – you get the idea. I was available. Today, there is just one part of that weekend that I remember. It was a beautiful spring weekend in 1965 and the highlight of the weekend was a Saturday evening concert with Dave Brubeck and his quartet opening for Duke Ellington and his orchestra. The drive was just over 250 miles and the accommodations were sparse – I remember sleeping on a bed in an unfinished basement, next to a large furnace. The bed was probably shared as well, but I really don’t remember that detail.

Music was not a big thing in my humble background. My roots were poor, working-class Irish immigrant laborers. There was an RCA Victor radio, record player, and speaker filled cabinet in our living room – but few recordings. Prior to adding a television to the room in the late, mid-50s, the radio was the focal point. We listened to radio shows like Gunsmoke, The Shadow, The Great Gildersleeve, and others. Records were not particularly valued – there simply wasn’t money to purchase this form of entertainment. However, a highlight was an old recording of “Get Along Little Doggies (Yippee Ti Yi Yippee Yippee Yay)” – I can still sing that refrain!

When the television found its way into our lives, one of the early shows that the family enjoyed was “Peter Gunn.” Henry Mancini’s music was my introduction to modern jazz (there was no way that Miles Davis could even be imagined in my life at the time). Mancini was within reach, or so I thought. The very first record album that I ever purchased was an  45 rpm LP album, “Theme to Peter Gunn.” My mother made me return it immediately.

So, in 1965, just prior to being called to the military, it was off to Detroit for a weekend with an unknown young lady from Saginaw. I had no idea what the schedule had in store. Who cared? I was a young man with all the red-blooded impulses that anyone would imagine.

All these years later, there is no way that I can describe the details of that weekend. They have long been lost in the deep recesses of my brain – blocked by the profound experiences of my future. What I do remember, and will never forget, was how impressed I was by that music. Yes, I already knew the music – Duke Ellington, of course. Brubeck too! Remember, I had been listening to the radio. Radio was big in those days – no longer the drama shows of the 40s and 50s, but popular music on the radio was the background accompaniment to my teenage hormonal existence. I was just like everyone else before and after. This was live music though, and I truly felt alive that spring weekend.

What I learned afterward was how influenced Brubeck had been by Ellington. Also, the relationship that the two had and their experiences performing with mixed racial ensembles. In those years, playing college campuses was a major performance outlet. But, there were colleges that would not allow musicians to perform with other musicians that were not of the same race. Brubeck’s quartet might arrive for a gig and find that they would not be allowed to play. Brubeck has told of one such experience when this happened and Ellington, who had been in the same place and available, was able to fill in because he was traveling with an all black band at the time.

Both Ellington and Brubeck were giants in American music and jazz in particular. They were innovative and classy individuals. They represented musicians and their profession from a platform that was elevated by their character and creativity. My accidental witnessing of both in this single concert illustrated to me that the experience of these superstars was accessible at just about any time, and around any corner. This knowledge has been reinforced with many additional experiences in my life. It has been a privilege to have met and witnessed some exceptional individuals – individuals with character, talent, and even some with fame. I never had the opportunity to see Ellington again, but Brubeck remained in his parallel life – until now. It was great to have had him in my world!

• St. Louis Blues, Belgium 1964 
• Take Five, 1966  
• Take the "A" Train, 1966 
• Blue Rhondo a la Turk   

I’m going to receive several piercing looks from my better half today as that moment in time when the guests begin to arrive grows near.

One of the finer things about Thanksgiving is the inevitable discussion on the “division of labor.” It is hard to imagine why this ever comes up. My spousal unit clearly fits the slot for “skilled” labor while the role of the “unskilled” is also necessary, it must be depreciated for its nature. It is a valid argument that someone must watch the pots simmer and make piercing glances at the lower tier of domestic society.

Last night we sought refuge from our kitchen at a local restaurant. After a day of standing over a cutting board, it seemed imperative that my spousal unit should be allowed some escape from the need to plan and prepare yet another meal – especially when the effort required for today loomed on the horizon.

 It was interesting to observe the large group of men that arrived to occupy a nearby table. No less than eight middle-aged men who were accompanied by one young girl (6-7 years old) and a teenaged boy. As two ice-filled buckets of beer bottles appeared, we wondered if these fellows had simply been kicked out of home, hearth, and kitchen while their 8 wives had pumped up the stove and oven. I don’t like to imagine what a kitchen of 8 women must be like. Who’s in charge? What is the division of labor?  How many of them are not in the kitchen or the restaurant the evening before Thanksgiving? Who cleans up? Yet, these fellows were not rookies or novices. They had a look of relaxed contentment. They were together, as were their wives. My suspicion is that those 8 women were the best of friends and loved having gotten those men out of the way. All of us are thankful for such scenarios.

I know that I’m going to receive several piercing looks from my better half today as that moment in time when the guests begin to arrive grows near. I will have done my best to have the table expanded and the chairs in place. There will be no dirty pots and pans piled up in the sink and the dishwasher will be emptied and ready to fill. The camera batteries will be charged, the bar set up, and kitchen garbage bags ready to fill with the remains to Tom Turkey and his uneaten vegetable sidekicks. Our guests and my talented spousal unit chef will be home and in bed long before the clean-up is complete.  Like any sport, this will be a team effort – a team that is made up of an all-star and a supporting player – neither of which could pull this off without the other.  We are thankful.

We have been at this sport for a long time. We have not been good at bringing our children along to their participatory roles. They arrive with families in tow and start pouring the wine. They drink and eat too much and when they leave we are happy to see them go. Alas, we are thankful!  On their behalf, they have become more helpful, although still not consistent. We have not trained them well – we have served them – they are our children after all. We are thankful.

Tonight at midnight, I suspect that there will be at least one guest that I will be boiling over about, but that is the nature of serving. People learn from what is done for them and what is done to them. At midnight, no doubt, the cleaning up will be nearly done. Chronic back pain will be killing me and exhaustion will dominate all thinking. There will not be a quiet moment to sit and reflect about what a wonderful day it has been – I wish that there could be – but, I’ll be damned if I will leave such a mess for tomorrow. In the morning, I will be thankful for that.

Next year we will be looking forward to doing this all over again. We will have missed that quiet moment after the guests have left and as the crumbs and dust settles. Our brains would not know what to do with that quiet moment – that is simply not who we are. But, little by little, we will have recovered and had the realization that we have brought value to our lives and the lives of our guests. We will have enjoyed the effort and so will our guests. We will have enjoyed our guests and felt their appreciation. We will all be thankful.