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Teri Schiavo is officially dead. Ms. Schiavo was pronounced dead in Pinellas Park, Florida at 9:05 am, 13 days after her feeding tube was removed per court order.
While Terri is hopefully gone to a better place, the rest of us will be subjected to the protracted battles that will ensue after her death, for just as in her last years of a diminished life, Schiavo will be used as a symbol to further political agendas.
Music is evocative for me and I happened to have Matthew Sweet's Girlfriend playing when I read this article, which by the way is very well-written by Jim Loney. The last track on the disc is "Nothing Lasts". If not familiar with Sweet's song, the lyrics will mean nothing, but for me, it's a fitting song to put Ms. Schiavo to rest with.
Nothing Lasts
If one could
Stop time, or make it up
If two could realize the best of luck
If I could locate a god above
And you only wanted to be loved
Then I'd try to hang on to the past
But you know that nothing, oh no nothing lasts
Nothing lasts .....
It's time toMove on, let the past go
I waited for you here, but you never showed
Although I asked you to let me know
I only felt a cold wind blow
While I tried to hang on to the past
But you know that nothing, oh no nothing lasts
Nothing's in your way
Now you can stand right up and run
Wouldn't even change things
If you took back what you've done
I have tried to hang on to the past
But I couldn't keep my grasp, cause nothing lasts
Nothing lasts
Nothing lasts
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
When singers pick up the pen
I have a handful of blogs that I go to semi-regularly that are maintained by musicians. One of my regular stops is the site of Jose Ayerve, the multi-talented singer, songwriter, musician, record label magnate and producer, as well as blogger.
While Jose’s many projects with his band Spouse, side project Nuclear Waste Management Project, and running his own record label, Pigeon Records obviously consumes most of his waking hours, he still manages to pen (old-school term) some articulate words about music, politics and life.
From regular visits to Jose’s website and blog, I’ve found another musician who also has a blog worth checking out. Mark Schwaber, from the band Lo Fine, who by-the-way also plays in NWMP with Jose, is a Easthampton, Massachusetts-based singer-songwriter who has some interesting takes on a variety of topic. Recently, he posted something about the humane treatment of animals, namely dogs, that struck a chord (oh I’m so cute with my wordplay, aren’t I?) with me and I’m sure will with anyone who loves animals. While Schwaber has some harsh words for those who would mistreat an innocent dog, I’m sure all of us have felt similar emotions when we’ve seen or received word of the mistreatment of a defenseless dog, or any animal for that matter.
Getting back to Ayerve, he’s readying for an upcoming six week tour with Spouse, which will have this must-see band beginning here in the east and working their way westward to Chicago, Des Moines, St. Louis, and down south to Memphis, before heading back up the eastern seaboard. Check out their tour dates and if they play near you (their worth a drive folks!), then turn off the TV and get out ‘da house and shake ‘yer booty to the soothing sounds of Spouse. If my endorsement isn’t enough to entice you to get up off the couch, then maybe Carter Little will help you shake off that winter lethargy. Select dates on the tour finds this Nashville-based singer-songwriter opening Spouse shows with his own unique brand of roots-inflected Americana.
If you can’t make it to a show, then take a moment, check out Ayerve’s site, pick up a t-shirt, scarf and one of Spouse’s (or other Pigeon) releases. Your life will be forever changed and your wardrobe will be dramatically improved.
While Jose’s many projects with his band Spouse, side project Nuclear Waste Management Project, and running his own record label, Pigeon Records obviously consumes most of his waking hours, he still manages to pen (old-school term) some articulate words about music, politics and life.
From regular visits to Jose’s website and blog, I’ve found another musician who also has a blog worth checking out. Mark Schwaber, from the band Lo Fine, who by-the-way also plays in NWMP with Jose, is a Easthampton, Massachusetts-based singer-songwriter who has some interesting takes on a variety of topic. Recently, he posted something about the humane treatment of animals, namely dogs, that struck a chord (oh I’m so cute with my wordplay, aren’t I?) with me and I’m sure will with anyone who loves animals. While Schwaber has some harsh words for those who would mistreat an innocent dog, I’m sure all of us have felt similar emotions when we’ve seen or received word of the mistreatment of a defenseless dog, or any animal for that matter.
Getting back to Ayerve, he’s readying for an upcoming six week tour with Spouse, which will have this must-see band beginning here in the east and working their way westward to Chicago, Des Moines, St. Louis, and down south to Memphis, before heading back up the eastern seaboard. Check out their tour dates and if they play near you (their worth a drive folks!), then turn off the TV and get out ‘da house and shake ‘yer booty to the soothing sounds of Spouse. If my endorsement isn’t enough to entice you to get up off the couch, then maybe Carter Little will help you shake off that winter lethargy. Select dates on the tour finds this Nashville-based singer-songwriter opening Spouse shows with his own unique brand of roots-inflected Americana.
If you can’t make it to a show, then take a moment, check out Ayerve’s site, pick up a t-shirt, scarf and one of Spouse’s (or other Pigeon) releases. Your life will be forever changed and your wardrobe will be dramatically improved.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Reality check on writing
“If it was easy, then everyone would be doing it.” You’ve probably heard others say that in relation to a variety of subjects. I’m thinking of the phrase at this moment in relation to the reality of writing and more importantly, publishing my book, When Towns Had Teams.
Believe it or not, the latter is probably going to be the more difficult part. The writing of late has been progressing fairly smoothly and I’m currently done with five of my 11 proposed chapters, with the sixth one nearly completed.
I met with a publisher this afternoon. While the meeting went well, I came home discouraged and filled with doubts about the sanity of my original intention of writing this book on town team baseball.
Like I said, the meeting went well; the editor wanted to know more about my book that I had sent a proposal to him about. The publisher was non-committal about anything other than learning more about my project and ideas for the book. While this is basically what I knew was going to happen, I think I secretly harbored some illusion that somehow, the publisher might be so impressed with my knowledge about the arcane details of my subject, the wonderful vintage photos I've obtained and my enthusiasm for the project, that he was going to circumvent the process.
Basically, when I left his office mid-afternoon, I realized that once my manuscript is finished (probably the end of May), I will send it to him to read. At that point, I may not hear back for six to eight weeks. At that point, if the book is one he feels worthy of publication by his small press (they publish 5 or 6 titles per year), then we might begin talking contract. There may be some suggestions and a need to rewrite or make some changes. If I agree with the terms of the contract and am ok with letting someone else change something I’ve lived with for almost a year at that point, then I will be placed in a queue for publication and once the changes are made, maybe, just maybe, I’ll have a book ready for release in the spring of 2006. Yes, you heard me right; 2006! Granted, since this is a small press, the date could be pushed back to summer or even later.
Needless to say, I’m feeling a bit crushed tonight. Crushed, but not beaten. At this point, I can’t think much further out than the prospect of completing my manuscript. At that point, I’m going to have to make a decision if I’m going to continue down the traditional route of publication, or am I going to think seriously about self-publishing? For any musicians out there, self-publishing is sort of like releasing your recording on your own label. There are pros and cons to both. Having a contract with a major label (traditional publisher for a book) means they own the product and while they are marketing it, you lose creative control. Granted, they are doing the marketing, which technically frees you up to record a new product, tour (begin writing a new book/articles), there’s no guarantee they’ll get behind it like you would, schlepping it out of the trunk of your car or selling it at a table during and after gigs.
Yes indeed, if it was easy, then everyone would be doing it, wouldn’t they?
Believe it or not, the latter is probably going to be the more difficult part. The writing of late has been progressing fairly smoothly and I’m currently done with five of my 11 proposed chapters, with the sixth one nearly completed.
I met with a publisher this afternoon. While the meeting went well, I came home discouraged and filled with doubts about the sanity of my original intention of writing this book on town team baseball.
Like I said, the meeting went well; the editor wanted to know more about my book that I had sent a proposal to him about. The publisher was non-committal about anything other than learning more about my project and ideas for the book. While this is basically what I knew was going to happen, I think I secretly harbored some illusion that somehow, the publisher might be so impressed with my knowledge about the arcane details of my subject, the wonderful vintage photos I've obtained and my enthusiasm for the project, that he was going to circumvent the process.
Basically, when I left his office mid-afternoon, I realized that once my manuscript is finished (probably the end of May), I will send it to him to read. At that point, I may not hear back for six to eight weeks. At that point, if the book is one he feels worthy of publication by his small press (they publish 5 or 6 titles per year), then we might begin talking contract. There may be some suggestions and a need to rewrite or make some changes. If I agree with the terms of the contract and am ok with letting someone else change something I’ve lived with for almost a year at that point, then I will be placed in a queue for publication and once the changes are made, maybe, just maybe, I’ll have a book ready for release in the spring of 2006. Yes, you heard me right; 2006! Granted, since this is a small press, the date could be pushed back to summer or even later.
Needless to say, I’m feeling a bit crushed tonight. Crushed, but not beaten. At this point, I can’t think much further out than the prospect of completing my manuscript. At that point, I’m going to have to make a decision if I’m going to continue down the traditional route of publication, or am I going to think seriously about self-publishing? For any musicians out there, self-publishing is sort of like releasing your recording on your own label. There are pros and cons to both. Having a contract with a major label (traditional publisher for a book) means they own the product and while they are marketing it, you lose creative control. Granted, they are doing the marketing, which technically frees you up to record a new product, tour (begin writing a new book/articles), there’s no guarantee they’ll get behind it like you would, schlepping it out of the trunk of your car or selling it at a table during and after gigs.
Yes indeed, if it was easy, then everyone would be doing it, wouldn’t they?
When prayer fails
Dr. James Benjamin over at The Left End of the Dial has given us a great "snapshot" of what life's been like in Pinellas Park, Florida of late. No one who lives there, goes to school there, has a business in the area, or has family members in the hospice, has been spared from the disruption caused by the crusaders calling themselves Xians.
With the rabid rabble of the radical right bringing their right-to-life jihad to the doorstep of Ms. Schiavo's hospice, a quiet neighborhood has been turned into a warzone. This debacle has turned a serene environment where many come for their last days on this earth and where loved one's spend quiet moments with their terminally ill family, into a place where people are taunted, sworn at and generally forced to endure added stress at an already difficult juncture in their lives.
People can say all they want about God and how religion has transformed their lives, but the past few weeks in Florida has convinced me that most of what passes for religion is just whitewashed ugliness.
My heart goes out to Michael Schiavo, Terri's parents, the Schindlers and any other families that are going through a similar ordeal. I hope that if I'm ever faced with something similar, I won't have to endure the farce that these poor folks had visited on them by a bunch of zealots and crazies.
With the rabid rabble of the radical right bringing their right-to-life jihad to the doorstep of Ms. Schiavo's hospice, a quiet neighborhood has been turned into a warzone. This debacle has turned a serene environment where many come for their last days on this earth and where loved one's spend quiet moments with their terminally ill family, into a place where people are taunted, sworn at and generally forced to endure added stress at an already difficult juncture in their lives.
People can say all they want about God and how religion has transformed their lives, but the past few weeks in Florida has convinced me that most of what passes for religion is just whitewashed ugliness.
My heart goes out to Michael Schiavo, Terri's parents, the Schindlers and any other families that are going through a similar ordeal. I hope that if I'm ever faced with something similar, I won't have to endure the farce that these poor folks had visited on them by a bunch of zealots and crazies.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Easter morning musings, from the post-Xian side
Happy Easter:
Easter greetings from one who is celebrating the high holy day with very little fanfare, other than a nod to the Christian calendar’s high ranking of the day.
As one who considers himself post-Christian (or Xian), I view the day with mixed emotions. Part of me dismisses all Xian celebrations with disdain and a measure of irony. Part of me (the part who at one time considered himself a believer) has a remembrance of what the day meant at one time and even has some fondness for the narrative of the resurrection story.
As someone who studies the culture and has closely followed the latest follies of self-professed Xians of the radical right (my designation) regarding Terri Schiavo, I had a few thoughts on Easter Sunday.
Last evening, my wife and I were making our three hour drive home, after watching two baseball games in Norton, Massachusetts, involving our son's college team. We were listening to Boston’s WBZ (AM-1030) and a Saturday evening program hosted by Pat Desmarais.
Desmarais, who self-identifies as a Republican, proved that thoughtful dialogue on the radio and his particular party affiliation are not mutually exclusive. It is rare in this age of hyperbolic demagoguery to find someone of his political stripe, who is able to look at an issue and not revert to knee-jerk soundbites and party talking points.
His observations about the Schiavo case were as thoughtful and nuanced as I’ve heard on the matter. I wish I could say the same about some of the moronic callers he so patiently entertained during his two-hour program. Many of them were frightening examples of the lack of critical thinking skills rampant in America. Several recited points that they obviously had imbibed from dubious sources named Limbaugh, O’Reilly and Hannity, such as Michael Schiavo’s living arrangements with another woman, his alleged abuse of Ms. Schiavo and other impertinent points making the rounds on the lunatic fringes of the right.
Parting shots:
-Overheard from Daniel Schorr in a commentary he gave on NPR
"The case is full of great ironies. A large part of Terri's hospice costs are paid by Medicaid, a program that the administration and conservatives in Congress would sharply reduce. Some of her other expenses have been covered by the million-dollar proceeds of a malpractice suit - the kind of suit that President Bush has fought to scale back."
-Thank God for Boondocks
From Sojourners Magazine and writer Danny Duncan Collum, about Aaron McGruder’s daily cartoon.
Collum wrote:
"In a world gone mad, we need artists to remind us that we’re not the ones who are crazy. So I’m beginning an irregular series of Cultural Survival Tips for the Age of Bush. Here’s tip #1: The Boondocks, the daily comic strip by the young African-American writer/artist Aaron McGruder."
He goes on to write:
"Boondocks views the world through the eyes of a group of black kids in a predominantly white suburb (the "boondocks" of the title). The two main characters, Huey and his brother Riley, were moved from the South Side of Chicago out to the boonies to live with their grandfather.
The strip is going on its sixth year now, and the kids haven’t aged. They are like the Peanuts kids. Except that the Peanuts kids lived (then and now) in a timeless bubble of childhood, mostly safe from the outside world.
Boondocks reflects the fact that, in the 21st century, the bubble has evaporated. These kids are exposed to the big, chaotic, and confusing world of the mass media, and left mostly on their own to make sense of it. This gives McGruder a perfect voice for his profound and perpetual outrage at the media lies and pop-cultural idiocy that fill the air of our daily lives, and the machinations of corporate greed that the media circus conceals."
If you’ve never seen it, check it out.
Easter greetings from one who is celebrating the high holy day with very little fanfare, other than a nod to the Christian calendar’s high ranking of the day.
As one who considers himself post-Christian (or Xian), I view the day with mixed emotions. Part of me dismisses all Xian celebrations with disdain and a measure of irony. Part of me (the part who at one time considered himself a believer) has a remembrance of what the day meant at one time and even has some fondness for the narrative of the resurrection story.
As someone who studies the culture and has closely followed the latest follies of self-professed Xians of the radical right (my designation) regarding Terri Schiavo, I had a few thoughts on Easter Sunday.
Last evening, my wife and I were making our three hour drive home, after watching two baseball games in Norton, Massachusetts, involving our son's college team. We were listening to Boston’s WBZ (AM-1030) and a Saturday evening program hosted by Pat Desmarais.
Desmarais, who self-identifies as a Republican, proved that thoughtful dialogue on the radio and his particular party affiliation are not mutually exclusive. It is rare in this age of hyperbolic demagoguery to find someone of his political stripe, who is able to look at an issue and not revert to knee-jerk soundbites and party talking points.
His observations about the Schiavo case were as thoughtful and nuanced as I’ve heard on the matter. I wish I could say the same about some of the moronic callers he so patiently entertained during his two-hour program. Many of them were frightening examples of the lack of critical thinking skills rampant in America. Several recited points that they obviously had imbibed from dubious sources named Limbaugh, O’Reilly and Hannity, such as Michael Schiavo’s living arrangements with another woman, his alleged abuse of Ms. Schiavo and other impertinent points making the rounds on the lunatic fringes of the right.
Parting shots:
-Overheard from Daniel Schorr in a commentary he gave on NPR
"The case is full of great ironies. A large part of Terri's hospice costs are paid by Medicaid, a program that the administration and conservatives in Congress would sharply reduce. Some of her other expenses have been covered by the million-dollar proceeds of a malpractice suit - the kind of suit that President Bush has fought to scale back."
-Thank God for Boondocks
From Sojourners Magazine and writer Danny Duncan Collum, about Aaron McGruder’s daily cartoon.
Collum wrote:
"In a world gone mad, we need artists to remind us that we’re not the ones who are crazy. So I’m beginning an irregular series of Cultural Survival Tips for the Age of Bush. Here’s tip #1: The Boondocks, the daily comic strip by the young African-American writer/artist Aaron McGruder."
He goes on to write:
"Boondocks views the world through the eyes of a group of black kids in a predominantly white suburb (the "boondocks" of the title). The two main characters, Huey and his brother Riley, were moved from the South Side of Chicago out to the boonies to live with their grandfather.
The strip is going on its sixth year now, and the kids haven’t aged. They are like the Peanuts kids. Except that the Peanuts kids lived (then and now) in a timeless bubble of childhood, mostly safe from the outside world.
Boondocks reflects the fact that, in the 21st century, the bubble has evaporated. These kids are exposed to the big, chaotic, and confusing world of the mass media, and left mostly on their own to make sense of it. This gives McGruder a perfect voice for his profound and perpetual outrage at the media lies and pop-cultural idiocy that fill the air of our daily lives, and the machinations of corporate greed that the media circus conceals."
If you’ve never seen it, check it out.
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