Bad Medicine Treats Symptoms

Here are two recent headlines that made the front page of major news outlets:

Wow! Amazing! What wonderful news!

Maybe not. This “great” news reveals a fundamental problem with the state of medical research: we’re treating symptoms instead of the problem.

An Automobile Analogy

Let’s say your car is making weird noises — whirrs, clicks, bangs, and wheezes that just don’t sound normal. You’re not a “car guy,” so you take it to a mechanic. You explain what the symptoms are (with sound effects) as best you can. He opens the hood, takes a few minutes to look it over and then asks, “When’s the last time the oil was changed?”

You try to recall the last visit to the local lube shop, but come up blank. “I don’t know,” you reply, “It’s been awhile. Why do you ask?”

After checking the odometer and the sticker on the windshield, the mechanic calmly explains, “Well, it looks like your last oil change was about 15,000 miles ago. The manufacturer suggests changing the oil every 3 to 5 thousand miles. I think we’re probably looking at rebuilding the engine, which is gonna take some time. That’s not going to be cheap.”

Not willing to admit to a tragic mistake, nor pay a huge bill, you shoot back, “Look, I’m not here to be told how to maintain my vehicle, I just want you to make the funny noises go away!”

“But… you see… I can’t just…” he stammers.

“Make the sounds go away!” you demand.

The mechanic, needing to feed his family, devises a devious plan. “OK. We can do that,” he promises. “We have a new product that will make it so you never hear another funny noise again!” Instead of rebuilding the engine, he installs special acoustic insulation that blocks all outside noise to the inside of the car. He claims, “With this new fix, you won’t hear a thing!”

Satisfied with his solution, you drive away happy, but deceived that your broken car is fixed. A month later your engine completely seizes up and dies. Bringing an end to your car and this analogy.

How This Relates to Medicine & Health

Sadly, this is how we often approach our bodies. We expect medicine to quickly fix what we’ve been breaking over a lifetime. We don’t want to be told that our methods of living are wrong. We want to take a pill and continue uninterrupted on the course we’ve been heading. We want a magic Band-aid instead of a real cure.

So, medical research and treatments often focus on alleviating symptoms rather than curing fundamental problems, because that’s what we want. We may use drug regimens, liposuction, and cosmetic cover-ups to make the symptoms go away, but we have ignored why those symptoms are happening in the first place.

This is foolish.

Attack the root

Symptoms are indicators that something bigger (and probably worse) is going on. Acne and obesity are merely warning signs. We can take down the warning signs, but that doesn’t get rid of the danger. No matter how many coats of paint we put on the outside, the inside is still rotting away. I hope that we eventually wake up and learn to recognize what is really happening. Let’s start attacking the root of the problems we experience, not just the symptoms.

The heart, the heart,— there was the little yet boundless sphere wherein existed the original wrong of which the crime and misery of this outward world were merely types. Purify that inward sphere, and the many shapes of evil that haunt the outward, and which now seem almost our only realities, will turn to shadowy phantoms and vanish of their own accord…

– Nathaniel Hawthorne, “Earth’s Holocaust,” Mosses from an Old Manse

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Height, Width, Depth, Length

There doesn’t seem to be definitive consensus on the matter of the proper way to use the terms height (H), width (W), depth (D), and length (L) when describing the dimensions of things. Usually we are left to sort out which dimension each term is describing on a per object basis. This is stupid.

A Real World Problem

I need cases for my studio monitors. Touring is not very friendly to delicate reference speakers, so proper cases are kind of important. Since the manufacturer of these particular monitors does not make cases, I had to look to other manufacturers for appropriately sized cases. In the specifications for the monitors the manufacturer lists their product in H x W X D dimensions. That’s fine, but one case manufacturer lists their product in H x L x W. Another manufacturer lists their cases in H x L x D. That makes immediate identification of a properly sized case a bit difficult. The fact that some manufacturers list their products in imperial measures while others use the metric system complicates things too, but I’ll save that for another day.

Isn’t it funny that we don’t have standardized language for something as common as measuring the size of things? To be clear, this isn’t necessarily a science problem, but a linguistic problem. Science has created a variety of coordinate systems to make sure we send rockets in the right direction, but for every day use we don’t have a standard system of common words. I love the English language, but it is rife with deficiencies. Don’t get me started on the lack of a “grammatically correct” gender-neutral third person singular pronoun. Grammarians, if you’re reading this, stop complaining about the misuse of “they” and SOLVE THE PROBLEM.

Back to dimensions.

A Plan of Action

In most cases, an object’s dimensions can be described using Cartesian, cylindrical, or spherical coordinate systems with words we already know and love. If an object is roughly box–shaped, orient the object so you’re looking directly at it’s forward-facing orientation and describe it as if you’re looking at it from the “front.” This means you’ll have to determine which side is the front. Most things have one. If your object doesn’t, then it’s probably not useful and should be recycled. (Kidding.) For example, studio monitors are useful because their front side houses speakers which emit sound.

H x W x D

Using Height, Width, and Depth (in that order), make your measurements. Roughly 3 out of 4 objects in this world can be described this way.

• Width = X-axis (left to right) derived from wide
• Height* = Y-axis (bottom to top) derived from high
• Depth = Z-axis (front to back) derived from deep

H x W x L

If an object is really long in one dimension but still boxy (e.g. lumber, french fries), use Length (L) instead of Depth. The word “length” comes from the word “long.”

• Length = the long side of an object

D/R/C x L

If an object is long but round instead of boxy (e.g. guitar cable, baseball bat, spaghetti), use Diameter (D), Radius (R), or Circumference (C) (usually in that order of preference) and Length. If it’s something like a drinking glass or flag pole, use H x D/R/C.

• Diameter = the width of the widest distance across a circle
• Radius = distance from the center to the edge of a circle
• Circumference = the length of the edge of a circle if it was stretched out into a straight line

The Ball Method

If an object doesn’t have any boxy sides and is mostly round like a ball, use the Ball Method. Describe your object by choose a ball that’s roughly the same size. Hail and cancer are the most common things to be measured this way, but it’s used for all sorts of things. They are good because they are self-explanatory. Here are some of the most common sizes. Pick one.

• The tip of a ballpoint pen
• A pencil eraser
• No bigger than the tip of your pinky finger
• A golf ball
• A baseball
• A softball
• A basketball
• A watermelon
• A medicine ball
• One of those cages they do motorcycle stunts in
• The shiny silver thing in Chicago that looks like the ship from Flight of the Navigator
• That space ball ride at Epcot
• The Moon
• Your mom

Now for the sake of progress, can we all agree on this and get back to doing whatever it was we were doing before we had to sort this out? Good. Glad we worked through it.

* The Word Nazis tell us that the word ‘height’ doesn’t have a -th on the end of it, but it should, if we follow logical convention. Can we at least downgrade it from grammatical sin? From now on, if you say, “heighth,” I say, “How high?”

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Common Sense

Try to name an example of when common sense would have been the best course to follow. Certainly, you can. Every one of us has a good story about someone not using common sense. (If you’re short on examples, try The Darwin Awards or People of WalMart.) In general, following the advice of common sense is usually best practice, but not always.

By definition, common sense is not best or wisest, but merely common, meaning it occurs more often. Common sense is the collective set of norms, mores, and good advice to which statistically most people adhere. If we asked 10,000 people if lighting fireworks indoors was wise or not, probably some idiot would say yes, but most people would have the sense to say no. So common sense (e.g. the consensus of the majority) usually serves us well, keeping us out of dangerous and/or embarrassing situations.

However, the mob is not always right and occasionally an uncommon sense is superior. Common sense is what separates the majority from the idiots and geniuses.

An Example

When I was in high school, my dad sent me to pick up a large load of wood mulch at a nearby landscaping supply yard. He let me borrow his truck and trailer, which I had driven only a few times. As I was returning home on a four lane highway with the huge load of mulch in tow, the trailer began swaying back and forth, causing the truck to fishtail. As an inexperienced driver, I resorted to my common sense and hit the brakes. To my surprise, this actually made the situation worse. The truck and trailer swayed back and forth even harder. Pushing the brakes did nothing. I was completely out of control, being pushed sideways down the road at 45 MPH. The truck and trailer eventually whipped around completely and came to a stop in the ditch, narrowly missing a mailbox and light pole. The rear bumper was bent up and I was shaken up, but very little damage was done.

Obviously, my common sense had failed me, so later I asked my dad, who has driven with a trailer many times, what I should have done in that situation. He replied:

Slam on the gas.

His answer seemed crazy. Hitting the gas in an out of control vehicle was contrary to everything I had been taught about driving, but he explained the reason this would work. When I hit the brakes, the weight of the loaded trailer had pushed against the hitch, lifting the back tires of the truck up slightly. Since the tires were not well connected to the pavement, my brakes no longer worked very well. It was like pulling the hand brakes on the front wheel of a mountain bike while going full speed. To stop the trailer from swaying back and forth, I needed to get it moving in the right direction. The trailer needed to be yanked forward into a straight line again. Stepping on the gas would stop the swaying action.

That bit of uncommon sense held the essence of true wisdom. I felt like I was the Karate Kid and my dad was Mr. Miyagi unlocking the secrets of “paint the fence” and “wax on, wax off.”

“Show Me” Scene from The Karate Kid

Lesson Learned

When venturing beyond the confines of the common sense domain, knowing which end of the bell curve you are entering into can make all the difference. Hitting the brakes is almost always the right answer, but sometimes the best thing to do is to slam on the gas. Having wisdom is knowing when to ignore common sense, proceeding though it may seem crazy. The wisest people often look like fools.

And wisdom isn’t lazy reliance on fortune cookie mantras for the right answer either. Wisdom is a ceaseless, persistent and active discernment of every situation. Or as Jackie Chan says in the 2010 remake of The Karate Kid, “Everything is Kung Fu.”

If you’re not sure which end of the bell curve you’re on, sometimes it’s best to just keep quiet.

That said, what do you think?

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Denotation vs. Connotation

Because of a recurring communication problem I encounter, I want to draw attention to the difference between denotation and connotation.

Definitions

de·no·ta·tion noun \dē-nō-ˈtā-shən\

The most specific or direct meaning of a word, in contrast to its figurative or associated meanings.

con·no·ta·tion noun \kä-nə-ˈtā-shən\

The set of associations implied by a word in addition to its literal meaning.

The Problem

When attempting to articulate an idea, carry on a conversation, or express a nuanced thought, I often find others mistaking the meanings of the words that I use. Sometimes the listener becomes upset, indignant or angry for what they believe they have just heard me say. In response, I often become frustrated because the words I used to express myself were carefully chosen based on their definitions or denotations, yet the listener has heard me say something else (sometimes something completely antithetical to my intent) because of unknown associations or connotations they have attached to those words.

Example

Let’s say I’m speaking with nice fellow who loves his connotations and I use the words ‘completely ignorant’ to describe myself in regards to something like… carburetor intake valves. This might elicit a sour face from the listener and a comment like, “You’re not dumb! Don’t be so hard on yourself.” I then have to spend the next ten minutes, trying to use only words with no more than five letters in them, explaining how, though I may not be an idiot, indeed, I am completely ignorant about carburetors and wouldn’t know one if I saw one. Unfortunately, the listener has made two errors.

1. He thought that I was beating myself up because he misunderstood my use of the word ‘ignorant,’ meaning ‘unknowledgeable or uneducated.’
2. He then responded by misusing the word ‘dumb,’ meaning ‘lacking the ability to speak’ when what he really meant was something like ‘stupid’ or ‘foolish.’

Use Your Words

This form of miscommunication is very common. It happens with all sorts of words, for all sorts of reasons. I have witnessed breakdowns of this nature so many times, that I am beginning to believe it is one of our fundamental human struggles. Misuse and misunderstanding of the denotation of words is often the primary cause of our frustrations with others and ourselves. At the heart of understanding each other is the necessity for all of us to use proper words that mean what we intend to express ourselves and similarly for all of us to understand the words that others use to express themselves. In short, we should say what we mean, mean what we say, and hope for others to do the same. Though we shouldn’t be surprised when they don’t.

When you get a chance, pick up a dictionary and peruse through the thousands of words it contains. You might be thinking, “Who does that?” Right. Well, I do and have done so ever since I can I remember. I also obsessively read the encyclopedia (an addiction now fed by Wikipedia) and can recite all sorts of facts that probably aren’t useful on a practical level. So, I may sound like a geek (I’ll own that), but we have a rich linguistic history full of words developed by our ancestors that they have passed on to us. We now have the chance to use these powerful tools to communicate with each other and future generations.

Isn’t that exciting?! Go ahead and roll your eyes, then let me know if you agree or disagree in the comments. Do you have a good anecdote involving miscommunication and word meanings? Please share so we all can enjoy an lol together. Remember: No grunting! Use your words.

“Communication Breakdown”

How about Led Zeppelin performing “Communication Breakdown” live in 1970 for your viewing and listening pleasure?

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Instant Artist Statement Generator

I wrote about my disgust with artist statements a long time ago in this blog entry. Today, my friend Eric Wieringa alerted me to the Instant Artist Statement: Arty Bollocks Generator, a satirical web app entered into the 10K Apart contest put on by An Event Apart. I’m well pleased. If you are an artist, please click the image above to find out what to avoid when writing your artist statement. If you need help writing an artist statement, try this:

A Better Artist Statement

Hi,

My name is ______________ and I’m from _______________. I like to make stuff. Sometimes I make things that mean something, other times I just try to make something pretty. Displayed here are several of the pieces that I haven’t sold yet. If you like a particular item, please ask me about purchasing it. I will try to answer your questions as directly as I can. Thank you for viewing my art work. I hope you enjoy looking at it. A kind word from you will probably make my day.

Sincerely,
________________

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Cancel Your MySpace Account

When’s the last time you logged into MySpace? When’s the last time you referenced that dying social network without making it the butt of some joke? When’s the last time you had a meaningful interaction through the site?

I’m guessing it has been awhile.

I logged into my account tonight just to see if anything had happened in the last 6 months that I should know about. Finding nothing of any significance, I began pruning my profile. Now if you visit my page (which I don’t recommend you do), you’ll see that there’s nothing left but a photo, my tracks, and a notice that says:

MySpace is dead. For more about Scott Troyer visit: http://scotttroyer.com

Why haven’t I cancelled my account? Well, I maintain a MySpace profile simply because when booking shows some venues still ask for a MySpace link. At one time (approximately the fall of 1945) this made sense because there were very few places that bands could easily create a page and post their music for people to hear. Now, there are so many sites like Facebook, YouTube, SoundCloud, Twitter, BandCamp, CDbaby, NoiseTrade, Vimeo, Tumblr, WordPress, iTunes…the list goes on and on…that allow musicians to create profiles and stay in touch with fans in much better ways. While it is true that these new networks are not perfect, they’re far superior to the horrible experience that MySpace offers.

Plea To Venues

Please, stop asking for MySpace links. Let’s party like it’s 2099, not 1999. The entire Internet wants to move on. Even my Grandma has figured out Facebook. You should too. It doesn’t matter how big or cool MySpace once was, sometimes you just have to let things go.

Plea to Fans

Quit MySpace. Seriously. Don’t just leave your data lying around on the Internet. Do you want creepers or future employers finding the pictures, posts, and comments you and some of your MySpace “friends” made 4 years ago? Go here to cancel your account. Then follow your favorite artists on other networks.

Plea to Musicians

Ask venues and fans to quit MySpace. There is power in numbers. Let’s unite and make the world a better place. If not for yourself, do it for the children.

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The War Is Within

The following paragraphs are from an entry in my journal on June 14, 2008, which I am posting it here as a public reminder to myself.

The great problems of the world are not the result of the actions of an easily-fingered cast of evil-doers, but by the failing of average everyday folks like me to imagine anything different than the current set of circumstances. We grossly mistake the root of our troubles by demonizing a select few, whose ignoble traits are glaringly obvious, and which conveniently distract attention from our less conspicuous, yet equally ugly inclinations.

If we only dared to believe that life could be different and then acted on that very realistic hope. Though life’s grinding would not cease, its sting could be lessened or alleviated. Whether it be for the fear of change, love of the status quo, a lack of imagination, care, or hope, the problem lies within us, not outside.

If we wish to get better, this is how we must diagnose and treat the disease which afflicts us all: by believing that it must be fought and then continually conquered in our own hearts, minds, and spirits first.

Maybe this is the entire war? Perhaps the conflict is always within and only truly winnable there – never on the foreign soil of other people’s minds. Aren’t our own selves all (or really more) than we can control anyway?

Are we completely giving over ourselves to the notion of creating a better world? Or have we designated some portions of the battle as someone else’s job? Do we see any problem as someone else’s issue or do we recognize them all, no matter how grand or insignificant, as our own?

With each dollar we spend, smile we give, and trust we offer, we ultimate cast our votes in small, but critical measures for the type of world in which we wish to live. We are creating this world by the manner in which we think and do.

Is our world full of fear, distrust, greed, and anger? Or are we, by conscious belief and action, redefining a new order of life? Are we giving birth to something beautiful or giving in to what we think is inevitable? Are we proffering hope or hopelessly accepting that nothing will change, knowing that as such, we will always get what we have always got? Are we willing to accept the outcome of our decisions?

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How To Get Perfect Guitar Tone

Bad News First

Perfect guitar tone does not exist.

…at least not in a permanently defined state. It is always changing depending on context. There’s not a one-size-fits-all solution for guitar tone and the guy who is showing you exactly how to get “perfect” tone is either demonstrating his idea of a good sound for a very particular context or selling you something. Let the buyer beware!

I’ve seen a zildjillion YouTube videos and magazine articles in which an “expert” outlines in very fine detail the “preferred” gear or “professional” way to play/mic/mix. They have shown me how to dial in that Clapton tone, place ribbon mics like Eno, mix a hit song like the Lord-Alge brothers, mod my guitar and amp like SRV, and even dress like a rockstar. In each circumstance I think, “Yes, that might just work. I could sound like that, if I do everything else exactly the same way as Mr. Famous Rockstarpants.”

They have it right. It truly is the small stuff that matters. In fact, all these tiny details matter so much and there is such a vast quantity of them, that replicating such performances is nearly inconceivable. Every part of the signal chain plays a role – from player to instrument to amp to room to microphone to preamp and all the cables, power supplies, recording/storage media, surfaces, and recording/mixing/mastering engineers in between. Even weather, location, and moods can make a difference.

Needless to say, it’s nearly impossible to replicate that one sound by that one artist on that one record. So many factors are involved in the making of a sound, that in many cases the original artist that recorded it might not be able to make that precise sound again, even when given identical circumstances. (I’d like to point out that perhaps the very reason we enjoy certain sounds is because a beautiful moment was captured – something unique that will never happen again – and trying to recreate it verbatim would somehow make it less amazing. Frankenstein’s monster wasn’t very pretty, was he? I digress.)

“We all have idols. Play like anyone you care about, but try to be yourself while you’re doing so.” – quote attributed to B. B. King^{[citation needed]}

And The Good News

Proper tone (the right tone at the right time) can be bought. You can pay for it with practice and critical listening. Good equipment is nice, but not necessary, as Jack White demonstrates so well in It Might Get Loud.

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The Worst Christmas Song Ever

It’s time for Christmas music!

Some love it, some hate it. I mostly like it. But no matter what our preferences, every year starting around Thanksgiving (and now even as early as Halloween – oh, the humanity!) we are bound to hear Christmas and holiday music playing non-stop at least until New Year’s Day (and sometimes longer). So no matter where we go, for approximately a month and a half every year, we’re bound to experience Christmas music in one form or another.

Good Songs

On the good side of Christmas music, we might hear Bing Crosby on an AM radio promising “I’ll Be Home For Christmas,” a claymationized Burl Ives wishing us a “Holly Jolly Christmas,” Ray Charles telling us that “The Spirit of Christmas” should last all year while Clark Griswold rediscovers old family films, Sarah McLachlan tenderly crooning a gorgeous “Silent Night,” or The Peanuts gang singing the melancholy perennial favorite “Christmas Time Is Here” by Vince Gauraldi.

And I have to admit I’m a sucker for Mariah Carey explaining (in no less than 12 octaves) that “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” I almost believe her. I bet you do too.

Bad Songs

But on the nefarious side of Christmas music, we have to suffer through double-time punk rock versions of “Jingle Bells,” terribly over-jazzed renditions of “Santa Baby,” the latest winner of a pop/idol/reality show butchering “O Holy Night,” college choirs covering the panic-inducing “Carol Of The Bells,” and Kevin McCallister lip-syncing The Drifters’ version of “White Christmas” into a hairbrush.

Countless bad Christmas songs have been hastily fluffed like whipped cream to make albums that are then pumped into the public airspace in hopes of swiping up a bit of Joe Consumer’s annual Christmas music budget. Without taking an official census, I’d say there are probably 20+ bad Christmas songs for every good one. In short, there are a lot of bad Christmas songs. The Christmas music naysayers really have some solid exhibits and evidence in their favor.

The Worst Song

In my mind only one Christmas song can claim to be the worst Christmas song ever. I award that prize to “The Christmas Shoes.” You’ve heard it, I’m sure. It’s the sappy tear-jerker about the poor little boy that wants to buy some shoes for his dying mother on Christmas Eve and it’s the epitome of awful. Sadly, it’s been made into a novel (what?!) and a movie that I’m sure Rob Lowe considers a low point in his career. Here are the lyrics and a video just in case you need a refresher.

The Christmas Shoes

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line,
Tryin’ to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood.
Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously,
Pacing ’round like little boys do
And in his hands he held a pair of shoes.

His clothes were worn and old,
He was dirty from head to toe,
And when it came his time to pay,
I couldn’t believe what I heard him say,

Chorus:
“Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please.
It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size.
Could you hurry, sir? Daddy says there’s not much time.
You see she’s been sick for quite a while,
And I know these shoes would make her smile,
And I want her to look beautiful
if Mama meets Jesus tonight.”

He counted pennies for what seemed like years,
Then the cashier said, “Son, there’s not enough here.”
He searched his pockets frantically,
Then he turned and he looked at me.
He said, “Mama made Christmas good at our house,
Though most years she just did without.
Tell me, sir, what am I going to do?
Somehow I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes.”

So I laid the money down,
I just had to help him out
I’ll never forget the look on his face when he said,
“Mama’s gonna look so great.”

“Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please.
It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size.
Could you hurry, sir? Daddy says there’s not much time.
You see she’s been sick for quite a while,
And I know these shoes would make her smile,
And I want her to look beautiful
if Mama meets Jesus tonight.”

Bridge:
I knew I’d caught a glimpse of heaven’s love
As he thanked me and ran out.
I knew that God had sent that little boy
To remind me just what Christmas is all about.

I know a lot of Christmas songs could qualify for the worst ever, but I think this one wins for several reasons. I could rant about this song for awhile (as some of my friends and family know quite well), so I’ll try to make this short and sweet.

Note: My intent is not to criticize the songwriters or anyone that genuinely likes this song. I simply want to point out the problems I detect in this song. I am doing so because the song is insanely popular despite what I believe to be very obvious logical and theological flaws. I know lots of other Christmas songs fail in many of the same respects, but this one stands out above the others because it often goes under the radar as “a good song to sing in church.” Passing off heresy and consumerism under the guise of a heart-warming ballad is quite wrong on so many levels.

Why “The Christmas Shoes” is the worst Christmas song ever

The Real Meaning of Christmas is Consumerism

Ah, the Christmas consumerism machine at it’s finest! Finally someone has found a way to not only condone our consumption that makes it seem like the “Christian” thing to do, but has also capitalized on the concept by writing a song about it that’ll “just get ’em every time.” This is the primary reason I hate this song, and honestly, it’s reason enough, but I have to continue.

NOTE TO SELF: If you are ever hard up for cash, remember this simple song equation:
Poor Young Child + Dying Parent + Sacred Holiday = Money Train

Shopping alone?

Why is a little boy shopping alone on Christmas Eve? Why didn’t anyone else in the song see a problem with this? Wouldn’t someone contact authorities?

Don’t miss the last moment!

If “there’s not much time” left for the woman, then why is the boy out buying shoes instead of spending time with his mother in her final moments? Priorities, son. Priorities.

Almost dead people have no need for shoes.

I know it seems harsh, but if his mother is close to dying from a terminal disease she simply does not need shoes. Maybe it’s the kind gesture or the thought that counts, but if she’s really that close to death, she probably would not be conscious enough to recognize a heart-warming deed from her son. Seriously.

Dead people have no need for shoes.

Caskets only open on the end where the head is, so no one besides the undertaker is going to see mama in her beautiful new shoes. That’s gonna be a real let down. And if she’s cremated, well… you might as well just burn your money.

You don’t take it with you.

Umm… I thought we were all clear on that. For this being a “Christian” song, it sure seems like some pyramid-era theology is slipping in there. I don’t know what heaven will be like, but if I had to speculate about footwear, I’m pretty sure that whatever we wear in heaven (if we even need any shoes) will be far superior to whatever mass-produced-by-slave-labor kicks the boy could’ve purchased with some change at the local big box store.

Does Jesus care about shoes?

The boy’s concern is that his mama look beautiful when she meets Jesus. I’m not sure where the boy is getting his information about who Jesus is and what he wants from us. Jesus is not Tim Gunn and heaven is not Project Runway. Mama will not be voted out of heaven based on her footwear. If so, those atrocious Crocs you just bought mama will not be winning her any style points.

Adults Messing Up

Congratulations, to the adults in this story (the father, the cashier, and the narrator of the song). Instead of being wise and using this difficult time as a teaching moment, you helped an already poor kid waste his last few coins on useless shoes and let him convince you that his well-meaning, but half-baked plan is in fact the true meaning of Christmas. But the shame doesn’t rest solely upon the fake characters of this trite story, we the consumers actually bought this song and are continuing to buy it every year! Please, for the sake of future generations, stop supporting this song.

These are just a few of the reasons why I believe this song is the worst Christmas song ever, but don’t let me convince you. Judge for yourself.

Buy Shoes for Christmas

If you actually are in the market to buy shoes for someone for Christmas and you want to do more than just buy shoes, check out ShopToStopSlavery.com. My friend Robin researches products that are fair trade and slavery free. You can visit her site to find quality resources and good places to shop. That’s a gift that keeps on giving, Clark.

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The State of Biblical Preaching

My cousin Aaron is the pastor at LaOtto Wesleyan Church, the church I attended while growing up. He’s enrolled in some correspondence courses and was asked by a professor to solicit answers from friends and family about their thoughts on “the state of biblical preaching.”

When he sent me a message on Facebook requesting that I answer the question, I didn’t know how to respond. The topic seemed so open-ended and nearly unanswerable. Still, I wanted to help my cousin out, so I spent an hour typing out my thoughts (which are mostly questions). I’m curious to hear your thoughts on this. Below is my reply.

Aaron, here is my answer.

Determining the state of biblical preaching today is difficult for two reasons.

1. Definition

Our discussion is troublesome if our topic is not defined. What exactly is “biblical” preaching? This raises many more questions than it answers.

1. Does “biblical” preaching imply a certain methodology that uses the Bible as it’s primary source? Or is it a specific type of preaching that is defined by biblical scriptures?
2. Does “biblical” preaching include or exclude certain interpretations of the Bible? If so, are some right and some wrong?
3. Are there various forms of biblical preaching? If so, are some right and some wrong?
4. How does “biblical” preaching differ from other types of preaching? Is it the practice of placing dependence upon the bible during the sermon? Or does it mean that the Bible is the focus of the preaching? What about Christ-centered preaching?
5. Is the Bible the only source from which we should draw sermon material? If we do make such a severe line in the sand and say that only the Bible should be used as source material, then what about all other sources (e.g. divine inspirations/epiphanies, modern parables, personal experiences, extra-biblical stories, contemporary context, biblical commentaries, and any other spiritual or nonspiritual texts)? Must we exclude them entirely? What are the implications upon our ability to communicate scripture with certainty, meaning, and context with our congregants?
6. What about preaching to tribes for which there is no Bible translation? How then do we preach? Can we only preach to a group of people if a Bible in their language exists? What about the dark ages when only priests had access to the Bible in a foreign language and the people could not understand the text?
7. Furthermore, was Jesus Christ a biblical preacher? By what definition? Does that definition differ from the definition we use for ourselves today?
8. What about this bit of wisdom from St. Francis of Assisi: “Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words.” – Is that not biblical?

2. Data

We both lack data and are surrounded by it.

The general public has unprecedented access to data at that touch of a finger. The available data regarding biblical text is abundant, accurate, cross-referenced, downloadable, translated, paraphrased, and rich with commentary. More than ever before, we know (or can know, if we do a little research) so much about the Bible, it’s authors, the location and times it was written, and the precise meanings of various books, passages, and even specific words.

In stark contrast, we know very little about the state of biblical preaching within the church universal because the data is hard to quantify, collect, and interpret. Most churchgoers spend their entire lives attending less than a handful of churches. Their ability to judge their church in light of all the churches of the world and give a commentary on a topic as far-reaching as “the state of biblical preaching” is not a good barometer for the church universal. Even though I travel for a living and have had interactions with hundreds of churches from various denominational backgrounds over the course of just a few years, I would hardly consider myself able or willing to look upon the church universal and pass judgement about wether or not she is practicing “biblical” preaching.

A better question to ask ourselves might be:

Considering all the biblical data we have access to, have we become more like Christ?

Better still:

Considering all the biblical data I have access to, have I become more like Christ?

Old Books Are Fun

All this talk about old books makes me think of my friend Andrew, a book buyer/seller for Bruce McKittrick Rare Books in the Philadelphia area. Katie Nelson and I were able to stop in and see Andrew and his family on our last tour out east. He showed us some of his new favorite curiosities that the shop had on the shelves. This little beauty is a book of hours printed in Paris in 1528 for the use of Salsbury (sp?). Asking Price: If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.

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The Only One At Home

Many of us have a grand scheme in mind – some great plan for life with an ideal outcome that involves our friends and family. Many times I have heard someone say something like this:

I want to be successful so I can take care of the people around me. If I make a lot of money, someday I’d love to build a big house where everyone can come and be safe, someplace where they all can feel at home.

Indeed, this is an admirable sentiment if truly motivated by pure and altruistic intentions. Working to provide for the ones you love is noble, good, and worthy of pursuit. How sweet life would be if we all made this our goal! But please allow me to point out a nagging problem I’ve noticed.

Let’s pretend for a moment that this is your plan. You work hard (or win the lottery). You build a big house. You put a nice grill and a pool in the backyard. You invite all your friends and family over for a party. You welcome everyone to your house and say, “Please! Make yourself at home!” Everyone feels quite welcomed and kicks back a little more than usual. They feel comfortable in your own version of Neverland Ranch. Everyone has a great time. They are happy, but you are even happier. You’ve succeeded in creating your own paradise where all your friends and family are enjoying life in your house. The problem? You are the only one at home.

No matter how wonderfully warm you are, how inviting you make your home, how many soft throws and pillows fill the sofas, or how serene or exciting the party may be, everyone knows that this is your house and eventually they must go back to theirs.

In a related way, have you ever tried connecting a new friend with an old friend only to discover that though you love both of these people dearly, you realize they have almost no connection with each other? Think about your network of friends and family – the people you know from elementary through high school, college, and beyond. In your mind, put them altogether in one room. Imagine that all the people you are connected with on Facebook at your house at the most wonderful party you could ever host – everyone you care about in one place. Wonderful right?

The trouble here is that you are the common thread between these two people. They both have a relationship with you, but there is nothing tying these two people to each other. In time, these strangers may become friends (if you pick your friends with careful homogeneity and/or compatibility), but often they will continue to have little in common with each other except for you.

I think that at the root of this great urge to have an amazing house that we can share with others is really a desire to create a space for ourselves that we call home. As much as we would like for our house to also be a home for our friends and family, what we really create is a universe that revolves around ourselves. We go to great lengths to make our loved ones feel like welcome planets and moons in our solar system, but they are trying to do the same thing. This battle for centrality of family and social events can get ugly with home owners attempting to increase their gravity (read: control) by building larger or more attractive environments. Though in doing so, we unwittingly might be creating larger prisons for ourselves.

As I write this article, I understand that some may interpret it as piece of anti-materialist agenda. Far from it. I have no problem with people building nice houses and spaces in which to live, work, rest, and share with others. Nesting is a deeply entrenched biological tendency not only for humans, but throughout much of the rest of the animal kingdom. Great comfort, peace, love, and joy can be gained and given in the act of building and maintaining a home. In the crosshairs of my thoughts is the greater concept of home, what we believe it is, and how we eventually express it through our lives. To read more about what I think home is you can read this article I wrote. I’d would love to hear you thoughts on this.

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Jesus & George Carlin

On the morning of August 29th, I (along with the help of fellow musician Katie Nelson) played music for the good people of Lakewood Baptist Church in Lakewood, Ohio, a suburb of Cleveland. We set up outdoors on their east lawn as part of their final al fresco service of the summer. The weather was perfect (I was able to remain the shade the entire time) and we sang and played well, which from my perspective made the entire experience enjoyable.

During the portions of the service in which Katie and I were not playing, we sat off to the side of the makeshift stage area with our backs against the stone wall of the church. As we listened to various readings and other musicians playing, we noticed a young man walking by on the sidewalk, mere feet from the congregants in attendance that morning. As he passed, I noticed (amongst other things) a paperback conspicuously poking out of the back pocket of his jeans – a tell tale sign of belonging to a particular faction of the now burgeoning hipster scene. I leaned over to ask Katie if she had noticed this small detail. She replied with the even more insightful observation she had made; that as this young man had passed, he had swiftly, and without losing step, swiped a pen from a table sitting next to the sidewalk. Though he did this in full view of the entire congregation, no one seemed to notice.

“The audacity!” I exclaimed in my head. “How dare he? Stealing! …and from a church! …and in front of so many people! What gall!” Inside I could feel my well-developed sense of justice rising up. I contemplated hurrying after him to correct this problem, but decided the scene would cause too much distraction since I was sitting in front of everyone. Instead, I quietly sat there and worked through a logical progression of thoughts.

1. Calm down. It’s just a pen. No big deal.
2. But it’s the principle of it all! Stealing is wrong.
3. Maybe he has nothing. I hope he stole because he needed it, not just because he wanted it.
4. How ironic though that he would steal from a group that would have given it to him had he simply asked. If he really needed a pen, anyone of us would have handed him a large supply of pens without reservation.
5. Why would he steal from a church? There must be more to the story. Maybe this was a small statement of his perspective. Maybe he thinks that the church steals from people (a common and sometimes justified belief) and that he was simply playing his part as Robin Hood in this sad story.

The plot thickened in my imagination. “Oh well. Let it go,” I thought as I attempted to refocus my mind on the morning’s service and it’s over-arching themes of orphanhood, abandonment and adoption. (Apropos topics in hind sight.) Still, as I tried to engage myself completely, my mind wandered back to the possibilities of the young man’s motives.

A quote came to mind that I had read just a few days prior. The late comedian George Carlin once said:

I would never want to be a member of a group whose symbol was a guy nailed to two pieces of wood.

I mulled over that quote, weighing its humorous pithiness, poignancy, and pride against its subtext of angst, antagonism, and atheism. Knowing that all comedy is rooted in tragedy, I wondered of the origins of this one-liner. How had it been given birth via the life of its author? What were the “causes” of this “effect?” What did Carlin experience to arrive at a belief like this? Was this young thief on the streets of Cleveland living out a similar experience?

Again, I thought, “Oh well” and pushed the subject from my mind. The service finished with three songs performed by Katie and me, followed by a pizza lunch on the lawn. With the almost-noon sun moving over head, the shade was disappearing quickly, so as most everyone ate pizza and chatted with each other, I hurried to wrap cables and box up equipment. While I worked, a friend was kind enough to reserve an entire pizza for me. After packing away all the gear, I sat down again in the shade of the stone church to eat a few slices, when suddenly I noticed the young thief coming down the sidewalk again. This time with his shirt off and skateboard under his arm.

I was surprised to see him return, but remembered that oft repeated maxim: “A criminal always returns to the scene of the crime.” For whatever reason, the young man had returned and immediately I thought I should offer him some pizza, but Katie jumped first. “Nice shoes!” she yelled to him. He stopped and looked to see who had complimented his bright blues and yellow kicks, then he approached us. “Thanks. They’re pretty fresh aren’t they? My mom gave them to me.” We talked about shoes for a little bit, then I offered him a slice of pizza. He declined when he found out it had pepperoni on it. “He might be a vegetarian,” I deduced. I wished that I had something that fit his diet, but all I had was a pizza that generously had been given to me. Katie offered him some gluten-free cheese ravioli she had brought along. He accepted with a manner of indirect thank you accompanied by earnest looks and head nods saying, “Yeah, it’s all about generosity.”

Unfortunately, after a few sentences I was pulled into another conversation with some other folks, but I kept my ear perked on the conversation that continued between Katie and the young thief. He expressed his belief that “everyone should share together,” but that “the world and everybody just wants money.” His take on the local farmer’s market (an incredible market, which has some of the most affordable produce I’ve ever seen) was that the marketers are “just trying to take people’s money” and that “people should share food or offer food at a modest prices.” He talked about music, books, people, and church all with the same skeptical-about-everything-but-we-got-to-share-and-one-love-is-it-man sort of view. The irony of his thievery just moments earlier was not lost on me. I could tell that he had some deeply rooted anger, a very suspect anti-capitalist worldview, and plenty of sophomoric pride in his reading list.

As he turned to leave, he jabbed at Katie, “Nose rings aren’t very churchy.” Katie responded with honest sentiments about her experience with churches, describing religious people, the Jesus she knew, and the difference between the two. When Katie said, “I really love Jesus,” the young man agreed that he really liked Jesus too and added, “He is in my top ten people of all time.” Katie asked who else made it onto his top ten people list. He reiterated Jesus and mentioned a few authors before tagging on George Carlin to finished the list. I nearly laughed out loud. I wanted to point out, “That’s like saying your favorite books are Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl and Mein Campf.” I could’ve drawn a Venn diagram to show him the concept of mutual exclusivity, but recognized that rationality was not the impetus at work. He was a wounded boy striking back at a world that had brought him pain.

I dug deeper, “Where are you from?” He launched into a story about being born in Virginia, moving to Ohio at a young age, being drug to Detroit by his ex-minister mother chasing after “love for her boyfriend or whatever that whole thing is.” He returned to Cleveland when his girlfriend parted ways with him. Now he’s sleeping on a couch at the boarding house where his mother is staying. Katie saw that he was carrying a portable CD player and asked him if he wanted some CDs. “Sure! I love music,” he said. “I’ll probably just burn the tracks and then sell the CDs ’cause I need the money, you know. I gotta survive.” Katie gave him two of her albums as well as two of mine. He expressed his gratitude to us again with another obscure type of thank you and then left.

We spent much of that afternoon walking around town with some good friends. As we popped in and out of little shops, cafes, and novelty stores, the odd events of that morning came up in our discussion. We verbally processed the theft and subsequent conversation that took place, touching on the possible roots of such problems before moving on to lighter topics like “Which shop should we go to next?,” “Do we need to feed the meter?,” and “What do you want for dinner?” Towards the end of the day we found ourselves walking along the path of a local park just in time to catch the reddish-orange sun slowly sinking into Lake Erie. We paused for a moment to enjoy the scene before deciding it’s best to head “home” before dark in an unfamiliar town.

The path out of the park took us directly past a skate park. I scanned the crowd of young guys skating there wondering if the young man we had met earlier was among the dozens enjoying this extremely nice skate park, one of the many perks paid for by the hard work of the local “capitalist pigs.” I didn’t spot him, so we continued on. Just as we reached the street, I was surprised to see our friend the thief making a last second dash through the busy intersection to beat traffic. Since he had not seen us yet and knowing that he probably gets hassled a lot for skating, I jokingly yelled to him, “No running!” He turned to see who was reprimanding him this time and smiled when he recognized us.

“Hey! I listened to your CDs and that’s some really good stuff,” he immediately offered. “I liked them a lot. I burned them and took them down to the exchange already ’cause I need the money. Gotta survive. They only gave me two bucks though for all four of them ’cause they said that you weren’t popular.” Though severely lacking tact, I had to admire his honesty. Most musicians might run away crying after such a frank assessment, but we grinned and said, “That’s fine man. We’re not really famous, so it’s not a surprise.”

He then offered his assessment of the music: “It just goes to show that God helps those who help themselves.” I’m sure I gave him a funny look when he said that, because I’m not really sure how he arrived at that conclusion. How could anyone boil down four albums of songs to such a singular and contrary thought? (But then again, how could Carlin boil down the entire discussion of Christianity to logo choice?) I concluded that either our young friend did not actually listen, or though he did listen, he was so wounded that he could not hear. Then again, maybe what happened was a phenomenon similar to what the Beastie Boys experienced with their song “(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party!).” A tongue-in-cheek satire of frat boy meatheadiness became the anthem of meatheaded frat boys everywhere.

Make of it what you will.

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Good for dipping?

Today’s topic: Veggie Trays

The primary purpose of the veggie tray is provide hungry dinner guests with a simple-to-prepare appetizer. Veggies are served because they are healthy and every responsible host wishes to provide his/her guests with good options. The trouble is that the veggie tray is not about the veggies. No matter what good intentions may lie behind the preparation and serving of a veggie tray, the focus always becomes the dip. Regardless what type of dip is served, the veggies simply become a variety of vehicles to shovel more dip into the eaters’ faces. It struck me today (while transferring mass amounts of ranch dressing from the tray to my mouth), that while all veggies are able vehicles for dip transfer, some are obviously better than others. Below is my analysis of several veggies I sampled and their ability to carry ranch from serving dish to gullet.

Carrots

Well rounded performer. Stick formation allows for deep dipping and copious coverage. Surface texture is smooth, but enough to grip the dip. ★★★☆☆

Broccoli

The big dipper! Voids between the florets, turn this heady veg into a sauce sponge. Stem acts like built in handle. ★★★★★

Cherry Tomatoes

Not a team player. While delicious on their own, this slick sphere is hard to grip and sheds dip. Enjoy them sans ranch unless you’re willing to dive in after them. ★☆☆☆☆

Celery

Step up to the trough! Like the carrot, this stalk is easily handled and dipped, but holds a distinct advantage: the U-shape, which proves great for shoveling fattening dairy product. ★★★★☆

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Point of No Return

Recently, I set my Facebook status to “Scott thinks our financial system has reached a point of no return.” A friend wrote me the following email.

So what do you mean by our financial system has reached a point of no return? What do you think can be done? Just curious. I am not very educated on political things, but I would like to know your thoughts.

I wanted to offer my perspective, but quickly realized I would have to be thorough in my response. Below is my lengthy answer. Caveat: By no means, would I consider myself a trained economist. I’m sure others have greater insight into these things. These are just my opinions. I could probably stand to be educated a bit more. By “point of no return”, I think I mean 2 different things. 1. We’re setting bad precedents. Politically, we (and by we, I mean those in our gov’t) are making bad decisions that are setting bad precedents for our future. Many of the programs of the “New Deal” that were set in place during the Depression were intended to be short lived programs. Some of the programs were designed as permanent reforms, but many of them were simply designed as course correcting measures. Unfortunately, those programs designed to get us out of the Depression became institutions of our financial and political worlds and still exist today (70 years later). The recent bout of government bailouts for private corporations might be a somewhat logical temporary fix to help us keep our heads above water, but if our own history is any indicator, these temporary fixes will end up as permanent fixtures of our system. There’s a joke in the church that kind of relates to this idea. It’s said that any new church event that’s halfway successful automatically becomes the “First Annual” event. Meaning, if it worked once, why stop? So, I believe that we’re setting into place a fix that will ultimately become a “right” in the future. What happens in 1 year, 5 years, or 30 years from now, when corporations get themselves into trouble? Won’t they cite the events of today and say, “You bailed them out, why not us?!” 2. The damage has already happened. I think the damage inflicted upon our economy by foolish investments is so deep, reaching the highest levels of our financial system, that the repercussions cannot be abated. We can throw money at the problem, but that will only treat some of the symptoms, not cure the disease. Grievous errors have been made and someone (we) will have to pay for it. Our leaders may try to patch things with temporary fixes and then paint the turd gold by claiming how they helped us “avert disaster.” But whether we suffer in the short term with a full blown recession/depression, or suffer in the long term with higher tax burdens, greater national debt, more centralized government, and fewer liberties, the truth is clear: we will suffer for our mistakes. As for the what can be done: I’m not sure what the best answer would be, but I know several things for certain. 1. To quote my friend Andrew, “Lack of oversight is not the answer to a problem caused by lack of oversight.” Unbridled power is not a solution. This article will make you shiver: http://money.cnn.com/2008/09/20/news/economy/treasury_proposal/index.htm?postversion=2008092011 2. We should not operate under the assumptions of privatized profits and socialized losses. This cross breed of capitalism and socialism will only benefit the rich and powerful. This article has a really good podcast: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=94686428 3. Don’t panic. Despite the grim outlook. The key to a positive economy is our attitude. If everyone (or even some of us) begin to panic and pull everything out of the system, we’ll certainly whip ourselves into a frenzy. I don’t mean to instruct everyone to just relax and get blindsided by a coming storm, but simply to temper our natural tendencies to panic.

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Law of Diminishing Returns: Wii Golf Style

Today I did a little test to see how quickly I could bring a Mii up to pro level on Wii Sports Golf. For this test I chose to play as Darth Vader, a Mii I made by following the instructions in this YouTube video. To achieve pro status, a Mii must be awarded 1000 points. The better you do, the more points you are awarded. I knew that I would have to get decent scores repeatedly, so if a game wasn’t going well I would quit and try again. After the first 9 hole round I came in 5 under par, which was the best I could do. For this I received 361 points. With this knowledge in hand, I calculated that it would only take me 2 more rounds of -5 to break the 1000 point mark. Sadly, this was not the case. What I failed to account for is an effect similar to the law of diminishing returns as each round of -5 rewarded me with fewer and fewer points. I swung 4 rounds of -5 and (with a little help from the Force) a final round of -6 before the Sith Lord formerly known as Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker was elevated to pro status. Here’s the breakdown:

I forgot to take a picture of my pro status graph, but below is a shot of my final round. I was within inches of making birdie on the three holes that I made par. You have not seen the last of Darth Vader!

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In Gold We Trust

I’ve been hearing more and more about how awful our economy is going to get and how smart it is to invest in gold because the dollar is unstable. Those selling this idea speak about gold as if it is our only hope – the only sure thing. I admire their passion for returning the dollar to the gold standard (thus removing our beloved dollar from the fiat category), but it makes me wonder why gold is a standard anyway. To me gold is almost worthless. I have no immediate need for gold in my life, so I find it difficult to presume that gold is the standard by which our money should be set. Sure it’s pretty, but so is Jennifer Lopez. Why not make her our standard? When I worked at Starbucks, I had a large African-American customer that asked me to add cream to his coffee. When I asked how much I should add, with a smile and wink he replied, “I like it the color of J.Lo’s skin.” I have to admit, it sure made the precise color of the coffee sound even more delicious. He created value in something quite mundane. Since then, I’ve often thought that using the color of celebrity skin tones would be a brilliant marketing ploy. Anyway, back to gold… The one area of my life where gold actually does have value is very utilitarian. Gold is an excellent conducting metal in electronic circuits, especially audio. In our era of abundant electronics, I would think that gold has much more value as a conductor than when it’s aesthetically employed. Even so, is that reason enough to make gold the thing by which all other things are valued? If so, why not make silicon our standard. Integrated circuits are the brains of our electronics. All of this has me thinking about why we even value things at all. When you remove the marketing hype and trend, which vary like the wind, surrounding the pricing of goods and services, existence is the only remaining thing of value. Why don’t we tie our money to something that is intrinsically invaluable to sustaining life? How about the value of a loaf of bread, a gallon of fresh water, a bottle of penicillin, a liter of blood? Even a barrel of crude oil makes more sense than gold. While we’re at it, why not get scientific about it? We could create a metric monetary system derived from a semi-universal constant, like say… the number kilowatts of energy produced by a one meter square solar panel (with x% efficiency) orbiting outside earth’s atmosphere and shadow precisely one astronomical unit (AU) from the sun? OK, maybe that’s a little difficult, but you get the idea. Or maybe the idea of tying our money to an element of the periodic table is right, but we’ve just picked the wrong element. Why not choose something like carbon, nitrogen, or oxygen, which are critical to building and sustaining life, thus assigning value to life itself by an objective and calculable method. I mean, why gold?

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
– Matthew 6:19-21

P.S. I find it funny that the symbol for Gold is ‘Au’ and astronomical units are abbreviated AU. Is there a conspiracy here? Hmmm… hahahahahaha P.P.S. Just heard the Portland band AU on NPR. Some great stuff. AU can be found at myspace/peaofthesea.

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X is the new Y

There’s this tired saying that’s been thrown around in conversation since roughly the early sixties. I abhor it for its presumptuous fickleness, a derivative of low brow fashion snobbery. You’ve probably seen dozens of variants of it, such as:

“Brown is the new black.”

“Red is the new Black.”

“Pink is the new Black.”

“Orange is the new Pink.”

“30 is the new 20.”

“70 is the new 50.”

“Gay is the new straight.”

“Reality TV is the new sitcom.”

“Paisley is the new pinstripe.”

“American Idol is the new American Band Stand.”

“Spanish is the new English.”

“Britney is the new Madonna.”

And so on, and so on…

I know how tempting it can be to use this snowclone phrase. It is quite easy to capture a tasty morsel of sophomoric irony in its simple mantraic form, which certainly makes it easy for the masses to quote verbatim. In fact, I bet you can think of a few catchy ones of your own right now. Go on, take a few minutes to think of some yourself. Leave them in the comments. To get you started, here’s a nice little progression I came up with that so deftly deals blows to some worship music trends that so many have strong opinions about.

• “Traditional is the new Gregorian.”
• “Contemporary is the new Traditional.”
• “Modern is the new Contemporary.”
• “Emergent is the new Modern.”
• “??? is the new Emergent.”

Sadly, the list of users of this banishable phrase is longer than the list of phrases conjured up. The abuse goes straight to the top. Even the can-do-no-wrong Radiohead used it in the form of a song title for the track “Down is the New Up” on the In Rainbows bonus disc. [small tear] But despite its use by celebrities and trendsetters, please, please, please! let’s not make a habit of employing it.

The entire basis of this awful catch phrase is this:

Something new is replacing something old, because the new thing is either better or similar to the old thing.*

*Or at least I want you to believe it is true, so you will perceive me as being cool/hip/trendy/clever/in-the-know, or so I can profit by selling you my new commodity in a different color because the old commodity is now inferior.

Lame, right?

So lame, in fact, that I’m willing to bet that “X is the new Y” is the new “A is to X as B is to Y” analogy, which means start looking for it on the SAT Exams starting in 2010.

Sample Question

Please fill in the blank.

“____________ is the new Johnny Carson.”

• A. Jimmy Kimmel
• B. Conan O’Brien
• C. Jay Leno
• D. Craig Ferguson
• E. Carson Daly
• F. None of the Above

Correct answer: F, though B is acceptable on good nights.

For more examples of “X is the new Y” check out this diagram or this WikiPedia entry. For even more words and phrases you should think about retiring, check Lake Superior State University’s 2008 List of banished words.

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Utter Bologna!

Note to my regular readers:
I apologize in advance for this rant. The following post helps to explain why I ignore nearly all art and find it quite worthless, though an art school graduate and proficient artist myself. Sorry for the sassy tone, this one really got me though.

Found in a recent “art events” program:

“The exhibition comprises a body of new work made from materials as diverse as wood, board, posters, photographic paper, metal and perspex. The work is primarily sculptural, yet aims at blurring the boundaries between the conventional modes of object-making. It provides an informed insight into the sensibilities of working with unconventional materials.

[Artist's name respectfully omitted] uses artistic practice as a tool for examining our perception of reality as well as our relationship to culture and its productions. He creates processes in manipulating selected materials and transforms them to take on some form of ‘otherness.’

His work demonstrates an ambition to recreate a new way of looking at the meaning of things.”

Sorry. Was something actually said? I read a lot of words, but failed to extract anything even roughly resembling content.

This artist’s statement quite exactly demonstrates the grossly inflated nothingness, which I abhor and yet seems to be the art industry norm. Sadly, most artists’ statements read quite similarly. And I just shake my head.

I understand the pressure to have meaning in your work (it happens to all of us), but when your work is meaningless, why not just say so? If you want to make pretty pictures, then do so. People will still buy your pieces. Look at the local retail shops: lots of work, no meaning, just prettiness. There’s no shame in that. It’s refreshing even.

But when artists create something and try to virtualize artificial depth with philosophical BS, I get nauseous. I suspect I’m not the only one either. Does anyone else out there feel this way when walking into a modern museum?

Not every artist is a great thinker with amazing things to say. Few are. When we’re out of our league, it shows. Bigger words don’t make us sound better. Anyone worth their salt can see right through that stuff. Our attempts to validate our work with superfluous words only makes us look ridiculous, especially if our work is sub par. At any rate, validation is the job of the public, the critics, and history itself. Only time will tell if we have added something worth saying, in the medium in which we are gifted.

There are enough things in this world with real meaning that are quite misunderstood. Why distract people with visual vomit, much less our intellectual noisemaking?

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Erosion of Rights & Police Corruption

I was pulled over today in Rosendale, Wisconsin for allegedly traveling 46 MPH in a 30 MPH zone. I used the word “allegedly” because I know I was not speeding.

It was Sunday afternoon on a sunny, clear day. Katie Nelson and I had played a show that morning and were heading back to the Fox Valley. Katie had warned me that Rosendale is known as a speed trap, so I was very conscious of my speed as we entered the town, going under the speed limit by a few MPH. As we were pulling out of town, we passed a police car parked on the side of the road. I looked down at my speedometer, confirmed that was going under the speed limit, then looked back up at the road ahead. As soon as we passed the police car, the officer pulled out in our direction and turned on his lights. I remarked to Katie, “He must’ve got a call about a wreck somewhere.” To my surprise he sped up right behind me. I pulled over to move out of his way and he pulled over too. It was only then that I realized he was pulling me over.

The officer came to my window and gruffly told me that I was speeding. In disbelief I asked, “Really?!” We had come to a stop right near the speed limit sign, so I knew what the speed limit was and how fast I was going. He confirmed the allegation and simply demanded to see my driver’s license and vehicle registration. He made no mention of his name, didn’t show his badge, or ask me any questions. I handed him my driver’s license while Katie dug the vehicle registration out of the glove box. He took one look at my license, grinned greedily and said, “Oh, you’re from Indiana! Well, we’ll have to do this a different way.” He explained that since I am not a citizen of Wisconsin, that he would need “some assurance” that I would not flee the State of Wisconsin, escaping my “debt to the government.” His proposed methods were:

1. Post a $109.00 cash bond directly to him. I had $5 on me, so this was not an option.
2. Give him my social security number, which he was ready to scribble down on a little notebook. Red lights started going off in my head.
3. If I couldn’t pay or give a SSN, then he would have to take me to jail and sort things out on Monday.

I refused to do option 1 or 2, citing my concern with both options and expressed my disbelief that option 3 was a reasonable third option. I told him that even if I had the money, it didn’t seem right for me to give cash to an officer on the street. Nor did it seem wise to give him my SSN, which I have always been told to be reluctant to share with anyone, to an “officer” that acted nervous and unprofessional. I felt like I was suddenly in Mexico. I had to double check my GPS to make sure I was indeed still in the U.S. of Amazing. He reluctantly said he understood and would see what he could do.

When the officer returned to my vehicle he gave me a ticket citing me for the maximum charge for the alleged infraction. I took the paper and looked over it. I saw that he had written down that I was going 46 MPH in a 30 MPH zone, so I asked to see the radar gun. When I asked to see the radar gun, he looked flabbergasted and acted offended that I would ask such a thing. The way he reacted to my request made me feel like I was doing something wrong, but I knew that asking to see the evidence against me was not unreasonable. He then told me that he couldn’t show me the gun. In my mind I speculated about the reasonable explanations why he couldn’t show me the gun. Maybe it was affixed to his car’s dash? Or was there some law preventing me from seeing the gun? How do these guns work? Do they keep the high speed on the display? For how long?

Out of curiosity, I simply asked him why he couldn’t show me. Sheepishly, he explained that he couldn’t show me the “alleged” speed I was going, because he did not have his gun in “lock mode” (whatever that means). He claimed that the gun was “more accurate when it wasn’t in lock mode.” I asked if there was a print out or electronic record. He said there was no such thing.

My mind reeled. At this point everything felt weird. I began to worry that I was in the middle of a roadside scam.

Essentially, this “alleged officer” claimed that I had broken the law and owed the State of Wisconsin $109.00, but had no evidence of the “alleged” infraction. I pressed him further trying to get him to admit to this. I stated that this incident would basically come down to his word against mine. He claimed that “officers are trained observers” and that he “would win in court” against me.

He would not admit to anything else except that he had “heard complaints of Rosendale being considered a speed trap.” I expressed my concern that this whole operation seemed fishy and recapped the situation from my point of view: I was actively going under the speed limit, he had pulled me over with no proof of me breaking the law, acted unprofessionally (making my wonder if he was a poseur impersonating an officer), could not present evidence of wrongdoing, and demanded either cash or my SSN to avoid being taken to jail. I told him that all of these things made me seriously question whether this was a scam being run by a crooked cop or simply a guy that had access to a police car and uniform. I also explained that because it was Sunday afternoon, there was no way for me to confirm that he was legit, so it gave me even more reason to believe this was a perfect time to be hit by a scam. I did all of this calmly, without raising my voice.

His already poor attitude suddenly changed for the worse. He angrily threatened me with imprisonment until bond could be posted “for resisting law enforcement.” He asked me, “What’s it gonna be?!” I told him that the citation would be enough for me, thank you, and that I would proceed with things in court.

Lessons Learned

1. The justice system is not infallible.

   It is a human institution, susceptible to mistakes, bias, and injustice. But we must still hold it to very high standards, even at the smallest level. Consistency and diligence on the part of average citizens are the only guards against abuse.

2. Always ask to see the radar gun.

   If the officer can’t provide proof, there is NO evidence against you. By asking for evidence we are upholding our right to due process. We are not a police state (yet) and we must remain steadfast in requiring just enforcement.

3. Don’t admit fault.

   You will have your time in court to make your plea. You are innocent until proven guilty. Our entire justice system is built upon this basic premise. Hold onto that precious presumption of innocence as long as possible.

4. Never give an officer cash, your SSN, or other valuable items/information.

   Complying with these roadside demands is dangerous and prone to abuse, opening the doors to cronyism. You are the only thing keeping our system corruption free. By law, you are required to provide only your drivers license, vehicle registration, and in some cases, proof of auto insurance.

5. Be respectful.

   Jerks will get nowhere and often end up instigating more charges. Speak kindly, clearly, and firmly. Gently ask for light(er) treatment, proof of evidence, and the officer’s information. When things sour (hopefully not on account of you), politely thank the officer and agree that things will be settled in the proper venue.

6. Record the incident, if possible.

   As soon as you are pulled over, start recording audio, video, still photos, and data. Use your cell phone, camera, pencil and paper, whatever. Document the facts. Have a friend help. Just get the information recorded somehow. You have the right to do so and it may be the only to protect you in court.

Updates about the Rosendale Speed Trap

T-Shirt: ROSENDALE, “Just the Ticket!”

At the local gas station, you can buy a t-shirt that says, ‘ROSENDALE, “Just the Ticket!”’ If this isn’t evidence that there’s a unchecked police problem in Rosendale, I don’t know what could convince you.

Embedded photo by Flickr user PMcC in WashDC

Facebook Group: Rosendale, just the ticket…

If you’re looking for other people that have suffered at the hands of the police in Rosendale, look no further than the “Rosendale, just the ticket…” Facebook Group.

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I Must Do What I Must Do

Current mood: convinced, content, clear

Last night was one of my top 3 shows of all time. I played a big festival called Lifest in central Wisconsin. My friends Lynn and Alex were able to join Katie Nelson, Hoss, and I for Katie’s set at the giant indoor cafe stage. I absolutely love playing with the whole band. Drums and bass made the music so much more enjoyable. It felt right just to turn it up and let go. Not having to push the cart musically makes my job so easy and fun.

Saturday was the first chance I’ve had to run my guitar through my new laptop. Everything went splendidly. No glitches, reboots, or random problems. Plus the tone was killer coming through the mains. I’m definitely hooked on this new rig. I can practice just about anywhere now because I don’t have to set up a ton of gear, just plug in my guitar and headphones. Definitely makes it easier to do what I do.

Before our set we walked the whole campus of the festival stopping in at several shows, smelling the carnival food, watching the unpredictable interactions of the thousands of festival goers. We caught several big name acts and some not so big ones too. Sadly, I walked away from most of them feeling dissatisfied and upset. I saw and heard too much agenda every where we went. I just wanted to leave, so as to not even be a part of it all. I know I can’t, nor should I, really judge the intentions of others, but I think I should probably always be checking my own heart. So before we went on I explained to the rest of the band what I was feeling. I think it helped me tremendously to express those thoughts and keep my head in the right place.

This is basically what I said:

We are not here to entertain, act like rockstars, or put ourselves on a pedestal. We are not here to preach, pose as examples, or catalyze the masses. We are not here to spiritualize, assume leadership, or cause miracles. We are only humans, nothing more and nothing less. Above all, we must be obedient to what we have been called to do: play music and live honestly. We simply must do what we do and leave all expectations, fears, and great work in the hands of a God who knows what really needs to happen. For this cause, for this obedience, we were born.

Currently listening:
1000 Kisses
By Patty Griffin
Release date: 09 April, 2002

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Money & Music: Who should pay?

This is the big blog of my self-righteous rant/expression-of-my-probably-biased-but-I-hope-not views that I’ve been dreading to write because it divides people and makes someone the bad guy. I know not everyone will see it the same way I do, but I must get it off my chest.

That said, I must admit, that when it comes to this debate about music, file-sharing and copyright, I lose heart. I understand the poor kid that wants to hear everyone’s music, but can’t afford to pay for the songs. I’m that kid. On the other hand, I also understand the poor artist that wants everyone to hear his music, but can’t afford to give away his songs. I’m also that kid. It hurts to shell out $15 bucks for a CD of an artist you really like, but it’s your choice to pay or not. Likewise, it also hurts to give away (or to have taken away) the sale of music that cost you so much time to write, arrange, record, replicate, distribute and promote. You’re powerless. If someone wants to take it, they can just take it and the artist doesn’t have to be compensated.

I’ve heard many of the arguments from both sides and recognize that yesterday’s music business model is going the way of the buffalo. To be honest, I’m more than happy to see most of it go. There’s a lot of jacked up stuff that gets in the way of good music, but the uncertainty of the future and the attitudes of some of the more vocal spokesmen on both sides, leave me quite nervous. There are many thoughts I would like to articulate, but I’ll attempt to provide you (free of charge!) an overview of my views regarding this complicated industry.

First, the monsters that most everyone would like to see slaughtered: the record labels. I am not signed and from what I’ve found out, I don’t believe I want to be signed unless the Right Deal* comes along. I’ve read enough about labels to know they truly are offering the musician a credit card at 70% interest which he/she has no control over the spending. It rarely ever works out for the signed artist, so it’s nice to see “the machine” (that Pink Floyd so appropriately villianized on their “Wish You Were Here” album) being dismantled. “Getting signed” to a typical “record deal” means waiving your rights to ownership of your songs, control over your image, and hope for your future unless you somehow manage to reach the elusive and rare “superstar” status. If and when you reach that point, you may be able to negotiate a deal in which you buy your songs, rights and freedoms back from the label at ridiculous rates. Does this remind anyone of slavery?

There are those valiant consumers of music, who, in good conscience, cannot stand to see another artist screwed over by the same old tricks of the label and want to do something about it. Who wouldn’t want to stick it to such a deserving man? And so the “good conscience consumer” gets his jab at “the man,” while still “showing support for the artist,” by ripping their friends’ CD’s and freely sharing their iTunes library. The problem is, it’s hard, if not nearly impossible, to screw the label and not hurt the artist. If the artist doesn’t sell albums and songs, the label will drop the artist – or worse yet – bind them indefinitely to a contract and force them to alter their sound to something that promises a better financial return (read: sell out / lose focus / turn the “suck” knob up).

So labels are all bad, right?

Sort of. But the flip side of this coin is that without a label, most artists (save for the spoiled little rich brat for whom daddy foots the bill) are not able to survive the tumultuous years of touring for little-to-no money (and sometimes even paying to play), nor ante up the cash for promotions and exposure, nor give away their music for free because it cost thousands of dollars to record and produce.

I recently spent several grand to record and replicate my first solo EP called “Somewhere Between Nicaragua & New York.” I’ll repeat that – several grand. That’s thousands of dollars for an EP, of which a good majority of them will be given away as promotion. Those I do sell are must be priced so that people are encouraged to buy instead of rip, so there’s very little hope of recouping what it cost me to make them. I did manage to cut my costs tremendously by doing my own producing, design work, website, playing almost all of the instruments myself and trading my design services. I figure that I saved myself somewhere around $3-5K on my project. For those independent artists that must outsource everything, the cost of making a CD racks up quickly and much higher. It’s expensive to make a CD – a good one at least!

There is no option to not record, as songs are the wheels of the music vehicle. So, to offset expenses, most artists – indie and signed alike – must have multiple streams of revenue (merch sales, ticket sales, tips, other jobs and on rare occasion royalties), of which merchandise is usually the largest stream. Most venues, while not willing to put up with your “original crap,” thus forcing you to sneak your songs in between tired covers of Brown Eyed Girl and Freebird, pay you squat to entertain their patrons and some even charge you to play their venue, as if it’s a hardship for them to have you bring your fans in and buy beer from their fine establishment. As Metallica put it: “Sad but true.” Most bands merely hope to impress just a few rare souls enough to sell them a CD and maybe a tee shirt or two to help pay for gas to get to the next venue. Many run out of cash while on the road. And things aren’t getting any better, in fact, the many streams of income are running dry.

“Big deal!” some people are saying. “You’ve sold your recordings for a long time, but times are changing and that’s not going to work for you anymore.” They propose that musicians find new ways to bring in revenue. They cite examples of how actors, athletes and other public figures are turning to endorsements and marketing campaigns to supplement their incomes and suggest that we, the musicians, must do the same, because consumers no longer want to pay for our work.

Stop right there.

The proposal is to stop selling what you actually sell, whore yourself out to media and marketing companies to sell unrelated products, so that you may give away what you intended to sell in the first place. Now, I may be wrong, but as a society of honest folk, haven’t we established that we hate that? Don’t we buy our TiVo’s so we can skip the commercials – the very things that are paying for us to be able to view the content we really love? Don’t we hate when our celebs lower their ethical standards and emblazon a new perfume, clothing line, car, or widget with their name? Aren’t we, the democratically-minded citizens of a new and better world opposed to the exploitation of true art by big business? Don’t we lose faith in the noble pursuit of original expression and the artistic credibility of our creative minds when such “partnering” occurs? Or is it just me? Am I the only one disappointed by this? Because if not, we’re essentially asking for more areas of our lives to be inundated with advertising, marketing and branding.

So anyway… All of these difficult decisions are what musicians face every day. Granted, this mountain of challenging problems does help to root out the weak, the less talented, and those not fully committed to their craft; hardship separates the men from the boys, so to speak. But when survival is on the line, no amount of musical skill will put bread on the table without connections and resources to exploit that talent.

Thus, the dilemma.

Sell out or stay true? Keep going or give up? Believe in your gift or admit your delusion? Forsake food, family and friends or resign your talent for a life more certain? Pursue honorable avenues to release your music or lie, cheat and steal your way to the top? This is the internal debate of every musician; the struggle within ourselves. In the end, only the rich, ruthless, compromising and lucky survive for anyone to hear the their music.

“All across America, and increasingly, the world, people stand in line at their local Starbuck’s and happily pay anywhere from $1.70 for a shot of espresso to four bucks for the more complex caramel frappawhatever thingies. It’s not uncommon to fork out fifty bucks a month for high speed internet access, and around the same amount for cable TV. People pay four bucks to rent a new release DVD at the local Blockbuster or Hollywood Video. A pack of cigarettes can go anywhere from four to nine dollars, depending on where you live.

Yet, increasingly, no one wants to pay for music, especially the recorded kind. CDs are quickly becoming relics destined to join cassettes, eight-tracks and vinyl in the tech museum. I don’t listen to CDs much anymore, my iPod is much easier; everything is already there, ready to listen to on the slightest whim.”

– quote from mamborama.com

Currently, iTunes tells me that I have 1.6 days of music on my laptop. This is not my entire collection of music. I have hundreds of CD’s at home that I haven’t loaded onto my computer yet, which I estimate would put me somewhere in the 10.5 days ballpark. But even without all that, the nearly 2 solid days of music that’s on my laptop is more than I really listen to on a regular basis. I know people, several in fact, that are actively downloading as many songs (and now movies) as possible; it’s what they do in their free time. They don’t listen to much of what they download, or really any of it, because they’re too preoccupied with downloading more. The music merely serves as background tracks to the more important task at hand: acquisition of more 3-6mb files. I know not everyone is this addicted to their peer-to-peer network, but most people have more music than they’ll ever listen to. An appropriate analogy here might look like this:

You’re hungry. You need groceries. You go to the grocery store, pick up the few items you need for the week and can reasonably eat before it goes bad. As you get to the checkout line, you realize that instead of paying for it, you could instead go around back to the loading dock, load up a semi trailer full of food and drive home without paying for any of your truckload of groceries. Theft. Overkill. Waste.

My point is, don’t feel like you have to own every song on every album from every artist that’s ever lived. I know there’s pressure to be hip musically, to stay “in the know” about every new artist, to be the first to hear of that great new upandcomer, but the pressure is peer pressure (which is just #*@%ing stupid) and the pursuit is in vain. The truth is I have a limited budget for music and I’m assuming you do too. There’s no shame in that. Pick your battles. Buy the albums that you really want. Support the artists you really love. If you can’t afford the whole album, go online and buy just the song or songs you really want as you can afford them – that’s so easy now with things like iTunes. This way you get the songs you want and the artists still get paid, thus continuing the sustainable cycle of production and consumption. (Which btw, this is a very “green” and responsible concept. Really quite trendy too.) It may take time to get what you want, but so does everything that’s worth having. Learn to value – nay, treasure – the intellectual property that’s so readily available to you (never has there been more accessible to you in all of history!), instead of becoming a virtual warehouse for lo-grade mp3′s. Classic Quality vs. Quantity.

I know all of this is very messed up right now and, believe me, I want to find a better way, a way in which the artist and the listener are both satisfied. I wish that in reality it could cost less to buy instruments, to record songs, to replicate cds, to distribute music, to tour, to promote, to survive. I wish I could give away all my music all the time, but I can’t afford to – literally. I wish money were not part of the equation. But the equation still stands stiff and true, for both the artist and the listener: No money = no music. It costs somebody, somewhere, something. Ain’t no meal for free.

Support your favorite artists. If you want to hear covers, support the actual guy who wrote it, not the guy who’s forced to play it. Support that “original crap” – in fact, demand it. Buy their records. Buy copies to give to your friends. Buy the t-shirts too. Wear them. Pay to see shows. Buy drinks while at the show (if you don’t drink, soda and appetizers count too). Tell the venue you loved having the artist there and want to see them back. Promote the artist on your MySpace/Facebook/Blog. Every little thing you do makes a big difference to the artist. Without your support, your favorite artists won’t make it.

I want to thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts. I’d love to hear yours.

---

*So you caught the asterisk! Good eye. Here is my idea of the Right Deal: I’m the artist. You’re the label. We coexist in a rewarding and beautiful symbiosis. I write the songs and provide the vision for my music. You provide insight, resources, connections, distribution and promotion. If I need something, I ask you. If you need something, you ask me. We talk. No demands, threats, backstabbing, or undercutting. No lying, cheating, stealing, or underhandedness. No mind games, power trips, raw deals, legal battles, or switch and bait tactics. Everyone behaves honorably and with respect to one another. We all benefit – emotionally, socially, musically, and financially – and through our hard work, the world becomes a better place. It’s all a very nice thing. That’s the deal I’m looking for. In the mean time, I’ll can be found playing music out there on the road with the much needed and even more appreciated help of my family, friends and fans. Thank you!

Currently listening:

Steal This Album By System of a Down
Release date: 26 November, 2002

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Play a Song Win a Tattoo

On a whim, Katie Nelson and I decided to play at an acoustic open mic here in New Jersey last night. When we got to the venue we found out that the open mic was actually a contest with prizes. I’m not exactly thrilled about the concept of competitive music because of the spirit it fosters amongst musicians, but we decided to play anyway, for fun, for experience, for kicks and well…

Katie ended up winning.

The prize package:

• 6 games of bowling
• massive dinner for two
• $25 certificate to a local tattoo parlor

I know, Katie getting a tattoo is funny, but despite my insistence to cash-in the certificate, Katie instead forfeited it to the Guy (capitalized because his name is Guy) who was runner up to us both. He was somewhat thankful and made a very proud acceptance speech despite being the third runner-up.

Later, this same Guy approached me to say/ask: “So, you guys play Christian Rock, right?” Knowing that this is typically a loaded question that reveals more about the questioner than the questionee, I avoided his bullet with semantics, “Well, we do play in churches a lot, but we’ve played just about everywhere.” He quickly retorted, “Well Christian Rock sucks!” I smiled and said, “Thank you.” He gloated, “You’re welcome.” Then he strutted away. Looking back, I’m not sure that he realized I had not actually answered his question, nor that I realized he was attempting to insult me. I feel sorry for the Guy, not because he insulted me, but because he tried to insult me. Unfortunately, he was able to walk away with a much undeserved feeling of superiority. Oh well.

On a good note, we met several other wonderful people there as well. We share a table and pint with Charlie, a self-described hippie with a never-gonna-grow-up Peter Pan sensibility. While we talked, Tom and Paul, a young duo with mop tops, quite proficiently flashed us back to the good old days of the Beatles, Simon & Garfunkel, Pink Floyd, the Monkees, and Jimmy Buffet. Later on, we hashed out the complications and problems of politics, organized religion, humanity, and the love of God with our new found friends Mike and Matt. All in all, it was an very interesting night.

Tonight, we’re heading back to the same venue to cash in our free meal and games, which we’ll be sharing with some of the new friends we met last night. I’m looking forward to just having a night of fun. And if it be up to me, we’ll all avoid the posturing, headiness and dogma that separates us from each other and the love of God.

Can I get an amen?

Currently listening:
Ambient 1: Music for Airports
By Brian Eno
Release date: 05 October, 2004

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Who Do You Think I Sound Like?

Recently, my new songs have been compared to the artists The Dears and Duke Special. I find these comparisons interesting, so this particular little blog entry is to keep track of the artist(s) that you think I sound like.

I would like to believe that the songs on my Somewhere Between Nicaragua & New York EP have tinges of Pink Floyd, Phish, Radiohead, Damien Rice, Johnny Cash, and Sufjan Stevens to them.

What do you think? Leave your thoughts as comments below. Gracha.

Currently listening:
Turn Around
By Jonny Lang
Release date: 19 September, 2006

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TV Eats Your Soul

It’s true. Watching television will slowly and surely suck your soul from your body. All you have to do is sit there and act like a vegetable.

Things I’ve noticed on TV lately:

Richard Lugar’s Ad

The school lunch administrator featured in a recent ad needs to head back to grammar school. Ms. Katie Rogers says, “We knew that we had a advocate for child nutrition in Washington.” I know that she’s probably from Indiana and doesn’t realize her mistake, but it should be “an advocate.” While she is a lunch administrator, she’s also representing our educational system as a whole on TV. Hopefully no one from out of state sees this. Note to Lugar: Even though you’re running unopposed, this makes your constituents look a little uneducated.

Bob Saget is still on TV

And he’s bragging about his days in Full House and America’s Funniest Home Videos. What’s up with that? Did we ever watch either of those shows because of him? Seriously, are we still watching the now titled AFV for it’s show host? Or do we just put up with him because the videos are so funny?

Animusic

Animusic is one mesmerizing reason why PBS is worth watching. It’s animation of machines playing electronic music. Sounds boring, but I think they’ve worked subliminal hypnotism into it, because I have to watch the whole thing.

Like I said, TV will eat you alive. Be careful out there, dear viewers.

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Getting Close to Finishing My EP

I’m here in the studio wrapping up the final few hours of recording. Just laid down the vox for 3 of the songs and getting ready to pluck some acoustic guitar. Tomorrow is the first day of mixing. Always a good feeling. Earlier today I reformatted my laptop. Ahhh… nice clean hard drive. I feel like I just defragged. Dan, you know the feeling. I needed to improve performance for some final renderings and it was time to backup and reorganize my files too. I’m typing this little blog entry on what feels like a new computer.

Last night I rearranged my flat (that’s for you Nathan and Mick). Ever feel like doing that? I get in these moods, where I think, “That chair would really look better over there.” Several hours later, I’m knee deep in all my crap trying to figure out where everything is now supposed to go. It always takes a lot longer than I anticipate. The good part is that every time I do this, I get rid of something. So, the question remains: How many times must I do this until there is nothing left and I’ve reached Interior Design Nirvana?

While I was tearing my place apart I was watching the devil (aka TV). A commercial came on that said something to the effect of, “Home. Home is a wonderful place where all your stuff is.” [Video is of lady folding clothes in bedroom. She tries to stuff a sweater in the drawer.] “But sometimes there’s just too much stuff.” At this point I’m thinking the commercial is calling for Good Will donations or some other type of “donate your stuff to us” campaign. Nope. The commercial was for a furniture store. They were implying that instead of getting rid of stuff you should come buy more stuff to put your excessive stuff in. Isn’t that the American Way?

The reason I was actually watching TV was the Mets game. Did you see the catch that Endy Chavez made? Couldn’t believe it. That ball was gone, over the fence, and he jumps up and snags it before it disappears into the abyss. Then he thinks fast enough to throw to second to catch the double play at first. Nice baseball. That’s what it’s all about.

Well, back to work. Got an album to finish up.

Scott

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Paolo Nutini: The Real Deal

Earlier this month, I played a show in Columbus with my friend Baxter Orr. Just as the show was getting ready to start, in walks a white kid sporting an afro and Hammer pants (I’m not even kidding) with his entourage, which includes his promoter, an older black guy. We soon realize that the show had been double booked by the venue unbeknownst to anyone else.

The promoter and the kid decide that he should get to perform first. OK, fine. He plays his set (2 long hours of really sappy, bad John Mayer wannabe love songs mixed with beatboxing – again, not even kidding) and then leaves. We get to go on 2 hours late. On the way home late that night, my cousin Ryan, who was my guitar tech for the night, tells me that the promoter came up to him and told him, “Do you play? ‘Cause this kid’s the real deal. I’m telling ya, he’s the REAL DEAL.” This night, with it’s skinny white kid and an older black man, reminded me of a night a few weeks ago.

On September 11^th of this year, I was at my apartment getting ready for bed. I flipped on the TV and caught the tail end of Craig Ferguson’s late night talk show just as he was introducing the musical guest for the evening. Most nights, I don’t get very excited about the late night musical performances for a variety of reasons.

1. The artist is someone I really admire, but the performance is less than moving for lack of enthusiasm, lack of venue atmosphere, or in my case lack of a high quality entertainment system. I can never hear the bass player.
2. The artist is someone I’ve already heard and might even like a little, but they are performing their over-played single. It’s like watching live reruns. Déjà vu-ish.
3. It’s just not my thing. Singing to a track while being backed by female dancers of questionable talent is not an acceptable form of entertainment for me, no matter how good your voice is or isn’t. {{{cough Mario Vasquez cough}}}

So, on September 11^th, 2006 when Craig Ferguson announced the musical guest and I didn’t recognize the name, I thought, “Hmm… probably a number three on my list above.”

Boy, was I wrong.

The band begins to play and this hurt looking skinny white kid with big lips starts to sing. What? That doesn’t sound like a nineteen year old white kid! Where’s the older black guy that’s actually doing the singing? Come on, Ray Charles has got to be in the back there somewhere – behind the drummer maybe? Nope. Before my very eyes (through the magic of television), was a young, white punk from Scotland, that could pass for just another emo kid, singing with as much soul as a seasoned jazz crooner. I was hooked.

If you don’t already know of him, may I introduce to you a real deal, Paolo Nutini.

From an English TV show, I believe:

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