The Eclectic Question

Having recently purchased a 500-gig portable external hard drive, and transferred my iTunes collection to said external hard drive (the better to open up nearly half of my Macbook hard drive!), I've been going through all of my CDs to download songs and albums to "add" to the digital collection. In doing so, I have been downloading some of my more ... unique ... albums and songs. Which lead to the natural (for me) question: What do you have in your collection that qualifies - based on what you "normally" listen to - as eclectic, or weird, or noncommercial, just "way out there"?

Here are five of mine:

(1) Elvis Costello and The Brodsky Quartet: The Juliet Letters: I think just having "Elvis Costello" in a music collection automatically qualifies for this kind of list, and since it was in downloading this interesting "chamber quartet with vocals" compilation that I came up with this question in the first place, it seems a logical place to start. If you are one of the 25 or so people to actually buy this album, then cudos to you! Recorded in the early 1990s, this collaboration focuses on the premise that a Veronese professor has been answering letters written to the most famous Juliet in history (thank you, Mr. Shakespeare!), and then devises the "what would different letters to a current/former/hopefully lover" (or, in the case of the title character, a dead, imaginary woman) sound like? The result? Definitely different, strange, and not meant for the commercial airwaves.

(2) Bruce Springsteen, Nebraska: In high school, I didn't care much for Bruce. I didn't hate him, I just didn't especially care for him. And then, early in my college days, Nebraska came out. Just Bruce and an acoustic guitar. And a harmonica. And the most downright dreary, pessimistic lyrics I had ever heard, presenting sagas about an America gone to hell, yet still with a vision of what could be. And I was hooked. Since then, I've grown to love and appreciate Bruce Springsteen's powerful words, and have a decently large collection of his works. But Nebraska still ranks as an off-the-beaten-path recording; it may have been sandwiched between chart toppers The River and Born In The USA in the chronological order, but remains his most powerfully lyrical achievement to date ... in my honest opinion.

(3) Leonard Nimoy & William Shatner: Spaced Out! Most of you know I love works of parody. I own every Weird Al Yankovic album (even met him backstage after one of the three times I've seen him in concert), and Allan Sherman was a staple growing up. So it should be no surprise when I was walking the aisles at the now-bankrupt Tower Records store in Toronto in the early 1990s and happened upon this collection of ... um ... music ... that I was inspired to bring it back to the States. Shatner's crooning is horrid, and I mean this in the kindest terms possible. Nimoy's is reminiscent of Johnny Cash at times (including his cover of "I Walk The Line"), which is to say it's actually pretty decent. At times.

(4)Apocalyptica, Plays Metallica by Four Cellos: Do I really need to explain this one? Apocalyptica is a cello quartet. They recorded eight Metallica songs, including "Enter Sandman," "Master of Puppets," and "The Unforgiven."

(5) Lounge-A-Palooza: In the late 1990s, lounge music made a comeback. (I'm not actually sure if "comeback" is an accurate description, but it was at the same time that the Brian Setzer Orchestra and Cherry Popping Daddies hit the charts with the Big Band style, so it kinda-sorta fits.) The most interesting part of this short "rebirth" was this compilation, featuring (among others) Ben Folds Five (covering the Flaming Lips' "She Don't Use Jelly"), Pizzicato Five ("The Girl from Ipanema"), Glen Campbell & Michelle Shocked with Texas Tornadoes ("Wichita Lineman"), and ... Steve & Eydie ("Black Hole Sun"). Yes, when two icons of the 1950s cover Soundgarden, it's an interesting listen.

I'm sure I could add more, if I were considering more than five. I'm equally sure your list may vary But that's the fun of this venture, now ... isn't it?

Music And Lyrics

"Music has been my playmate, my lover, and my crying towel." ~ Buffy Sainte-Marie

Indeed, it has.

For as long as I can remember, I have drawn inspiration from song, have found solace in music, have found deep meaning in lyrics. At times, it has allowed me a peaceful sleep; other times, it has allowed me to question life and its intricacies.

I have sought music, and it has enveloped me in its world.

For years, I have used music in the classroom - sometimes as metaphors, or as parts of the lecture process. And every year, I have my students do a social commentary lyrical analysis, where they need to choose a (clean lyric) song of their choice that has some connection to societal change, action or welfare, and present it to the rest of the class - complete with explanation of why or how it calls for social change, action or welfare.

Why do I do this? Because many today's musicians are the poets of the young, the voice of the disenfranchised teen or college-aged student. Much like the great poets and writers of the 1700s and 1800s - Swift, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, Shelley, Keats, Tennyson, etc. - were the voice of their generation, of their people. Sure, these writers often wrote of love and passion, just as many of today's musicians do; but they also wrote of the world around them, of wars and heroes, of societal problems, of the need for change in the status quo.

Despite the perceptions of others (usually the "older" generation), not all of the music people listen to is bubble-gum pop with seemingly nothing to offer other than a catchy beat. OK, some is. But musicians like Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger, Marvin Gaye, Edwin Starr, Joan Baez, CSNY and Woody Guthrie helped bring Vietnam to an end, giving the Woodstock generation a rallying cry. The past 25-plus years, artists like Bruce Springsteen, John Cougar Mellencamp, Rage Against The Machine, Tupac, Black Eyed Peas, Dixie Chicks, even Eminem, have been active (to varying degrees) in addressing social issues in their music.

I believe it is important for today's youth to recognize this.

This past year's song list was, as usual, an eclectic mix of styles, genres and voices. From "I Can" by Nas to "Seminole Wind" by John Anderson, from "Waiting on the World to Change" by John Mayer to "Electric Eye" by Judas Priest, my students analyzed legitimate calls for, if not social change, then social awareness. Their interpretations give me hope for the future, as they progress into the world beyond high school walls.

(Because I wanted to have a part in the process, when everyone else was done, I pulled out a song none had presented - "Catch Me Now I'm Falling" by The Kinks - and discussed its meaning for the class as a whole. The lyrics focus on the role of the United States in the world, and how when the US is in trouble, no other nation offers assistance, despite all the money and goodwill and volunteer forces America has sent overseas for decades.)

On a more personal level, I have been "interpreting" lyrics for years. Now, I realize this isn't a new concept; heck, Charles Manson interpreted Beatles lyrics in the 1960s, with tragic results. I've no intention of going that route. But I have often gained strength from this action. Unfortunately, it seems many of the times I turn to music for introspection are when I am in an emotional "down," when I am feeling at or near what I perceive to be a low moment in my life. I haven't done any studies or research on this, but I do have my own view - that because we, as human, generally focus on the negatives and gloss over the positives, it is during these low moments that we turn to the media - poetry, books, television, the Internet - or family and friends - for a listening ear.

Music allows this without being judgmental. We get to bring someone else's words into our hearts, our lives, as a method of coping, without being preached to or yelled at for our errors or problems.

A number of songs come to mind when I start thinking of music that has been my security blanket, my means of dealing with the "Why does life suck?" or "Is there a God?" or "What purpose does life have for me?" mode. Two of the songs, "Man on the Corner" by Genesis, and The Beatles' "Fool on the Hill," can easily be interchanged within terms of their theme, as each speak to the issue of loneliness and isolation. Like many, I have had moments of desolation, whether physical, emotional or some combination. Phil Collins' powerful vocabulary speaks to the heart and soul of this issue:

Looking everywhere at no one, he sees everything and nothing at all;
When he shouts, nobody listens; where he leads, no one will go.
He's a lonely man, there on the corner.
What he's waiting for, I don't know.
But he waits every day now,
He's just waiting for something to show ...

Now, compare this to the words of John Lennon and Paul McCartney:

Well on the way, head in a cloud,
The man of a thousand voices talking perfectly loud.
But nobody ever hears him, or the sound he appears to make,
And he never seems to notice,
But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning 'round ...

Do you feel their impact, the power of these outside observations, speaking to the inner soul? I certainly have, especially when I have been in an emotionally fragile state. The words call to me, tell me I am not alone, that there are others in the world in similar situations, with similar problems. And to me, the songs offer a form of spiritual cleansing, of empowerment. I gain strength from their messages, that life may be difficult at that particular juncture, but there is more to life than this. For if you review the lyrics more deeply, they speak of hope ... and while hope (according to Red in The Shawshank Redemption) may be "a dangerous thing," it can be sustaining as well.

A third song, with a slightly different theme, that has molded my life and been my crutch at times is "Basket Case" by Green Day. Now, this might seem strange, since Green Day has never been a band that I would ever consider one of my favorites. But I am open to new ideas and views, and this song certainly has the ability to be a personal mantra of sorts:

Do you have the time to listen to me whine,
About nothing and everything all at once?
I am one of those melodramatic fools,
Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it.
Sometimes I give myself the creeps.
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me.
It all keeps adding up, I think I'm cracking up,
Am I just paranoid? Or I'm just stoned.

Yes, I admit, there have been those moments in my life where I doubt everything around me: my job, my health, my social life, my God, my sense of sanity. This is normal, I believe; most people suffer various types of stress, and usually have some form of outlet in which to vent, whether it be a friend, a family member, a lover, or even an anonymous help line. (Blogging on the Internet is also a way of dealing with these kinds of stressful situations.)

Now, this is not intended to be a "woe is me" rambling of songs to be morbid by; I can also turn to powerful, inspirational, uplifting songs, with lyrics that speak of greatness and quests and positive mental attitude. Billy Joel's "The River of Dreams" is one such song; others include "Walking on Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves and "I Can See Clearly Now" by Johnny Nash. Like the aforementioned songs, these - and many others - have different ways of speaking to the heart, to the mind, to the soul.

The main thing is to realize that music represents us as humans, as thinking entities. It allows us to express ourselves, through words and ideas and fantasies. It makes life worth living. And that's always a good thing.

Sax And Violins (Minus The Sax)

When growing up, music was a passion for me. It involved me, enraptured me, consumed me, on a multitude of levels.

One level was of the "I play a musical instrument" variety. In elementary school, I was not selected (for whatever reason) to advance from "recorder" to "legitimate band instrument," which was somewhat disappointing. But in fifth grade, the world opened up to me with what I will affectionately (and in retrospect) call "Plan B" - string instruments. My elementary school, Hickory Grove, was starting up a string orchestra! It was different. It was cool. It allowed me to get "out" of my regular class for an hour or so daily, and as much as I revered Mr. Felix, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. I don't recall all the details - hey, it was 1975, my memory is a bit hazy - but soon there I was, learning to play the violin.

(Note - this may be the first time that "violin" and "cool" go together in a thought process. Such can be the mentality of a 10-year-old.)

If anyone thought it was to be a fad, they were sadly mistaken. I stayed with the fiddle throughout the rest of elementary school, continued through junior high and high school, and even played my first year at Central Michigan University, after which I packed up the imitation Stradivarius. Oh, I played it on occasion after that - notably during my fraternity's Greek Week music performance - but even early on, it was obvious that my work habit was not going to lead me to a future in a professional orchestra. And I was OK with that.

There were some very cool things that happened during my high school orchestra tenure, though. ("Cool"? Again? Hmmmm ...) The summer before I started high school, as I was heading to band camp, the radio was blasting the sounds of the Charlie Daniels Band's The Devil Went Down to Georgia, which made for a wonderful camp experience. My favorite group in junior high (and even early high school) was the Electric Light Orchestra. When Charlie Daniels released Devil, it just enhanced the concept that ... maybe ... if things worked out ... there was an option for recording commercial music while playing the violin. My buddy Tim Olson and I had dreams of performing Devil for Halloween one year with full orchestral accompaniment, but it never happened.

At our regional state music festival my sophomore year, the main piece our symphonic orchestra played was Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain. The piece includes an absolute "stop" early in the performance - I mean, after building up to an amazing crescendo, EVERYONE has to stop on a dime. We were performing in a high school gym, and when we hit that moment, the music reverberated for what seemed like an eternity. The parents in the audience all looked around, trying to see the musical waves bouncing around the room. The judges all looked around. The orchestra looked around. It was impressive. We managed to refocus and continue our performance, and ended up with straight "I" rankings ... although one of the judge scores was originally recorded as a "II" (which, in case you're not sure, is not a good thing). The regional rep came out about 10 minutes later, apologized to us, and changed the "II" to a "I+" ranking - the first-ever "I+" ranking in Michigan music festival history (or so we were led to believe; we never looked it up to discover whether this was true).

About a month later - April 1980 - we went to the state festival in suburban Grand Rapids, about three hours northeast of Detroit. Instead of staying at a hotel, we roomed with different families in the GR area. The big news that weekend was that the US mission to rescue the American hostages in Iran failed that morning; while at our host family's residence, as we were trying to get ready for that day's competition, we were captivated by the events in the Middle East being presented on television.

Late during my sophomore year, I took up a second instrument - the viola - as well, giving me multiple instruments on which to torture my parents' ears. That summer, during my second stint at Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp, I auditioned for the jazz band, my violin decked out with a transducer, amplifier and speaker, making me the first-ever electric violinist at BLFAC. I ended up playing violin on only a few of our selections, spending the rest of the summer learning various percussion instruments (the triangle, cowbell, etc.), because no one was quite sure what to do with me and the music selections really didn't have much in the way of violin parts. However, it was definitely fun, and I was in the jazz band again the following summer.

I had started preparing for jazz band during my sophomore year. Another log that was thrown on the orchestral fire that year was the announcement by Bloomfield Hills Lahser High School's orchestra director, Valerie Palmieri, that we would be competing at the Ottawa International Festival of Music my junior year. It ended up being a series of firsts: my first major bus ride (Detroit to Ottawa isn't exactly a short trip); my first time staying in dorm rooms (we lived on the University of Ottawa campus while in Canada, eh?); and my first time in charge (so to speak) of the orchestra.

Let me explain. Lahser sent three musical groups to Ottawa: the full symphony orchestra; the string orchestra; and the jazz band. I was in the first two - my jazz expertise wasn't all that impressive in the grand scheme of things (although we did have one of our senior cellists playing with the jazz band for a song). For the full symphony orchestra, two of us - myself and Janis Koehn - each played violin and viola, switching back and forth between the three selections. And with the string orchestra, I was exclusively on viola, but during one of the most difficult pieces we played, the Pachelbel Canon in D, my job was to "plink" the rhythmic notes to keep us paced properly.

I was the only one with this responsibility, and that responsibility multiplied when Mrs. Palmieri told us ahead of the performance that she would be leaving the stage before we started playing the Pachelbel, leaving us to self-pace and self-coordinate the piece. We didn't believe her. What high school orchestra conductor leaves the stage in advance of a performance before a panel of judges at an international competition?

Shame on us. We played our first piece (the Albinoni Adagio in G Minor), then Mrs. Palmieri bowed, put her baton on the music stand, and walked off the stage, leaving 30-plus high school students to perform sans conductor. We started playing; I started plunking; and somehow, never lost the beat, never sped up, never slowed down, never got my fellow string musicians off track. It was exhausting, mentally and physically - something I had never realized could happen playing the violin or viola.

Senior year was a whole different experience. I had the opportunity to play in the high school's new orchestra pit for our production of Oliver! We scored straight "I" rankings (for the third consecutive year) at the state music festival. Our Halloween concert featured Mrs. Palmieri dressed as Miss Piggy from The Muppet Show (definitely quite a sight from the musicians' point of view). And during one performance that year, we played P.D.Q. Bach's Sonata for Viola Fourhands and Harpsichord. Even though we didn't have a harpsichord. P.D.Q. Bach is the "Weird Al" Yankovic of the classical music world; Sonata is performed where one person holds a viola at center stage; two individuals take a long piece of string (or dental floss, whatever works) and walk back and forth across the stage, the violist adjusting the instrument so the string hit the correct musical strings accordingly; and the fourth person actually "fingers" the correct notes.

So why I am pounding out memories from more than 25 years ago? I was going through some old photos this weekend, and happened upon several from my years in orchestra. One thing led to another, and ... voila! (not viola!), the floodgate was opened.

Think I'll listen to some Vivaldi tonight.

The Day The (Disco) Music Died

Thirty years ago, disco died in Chicago.

But the death has strong ties to Detroit, for a variety of reasons.

Let me explain.

On July 12, 1979, the Detroit Tigers were playing the host Chicago White Sox in a doubleheader. The rivalry between the two midwest teams was well known, but neither club was exactly challenging to make the post-season that year. In order to generate some sort of interest in the home team, Sox marketing director Mike Veeck - son of Bill, baseball’s all-time master of publicity stunts - concocted an idea that ranks up - or down - among the strangest and most notable in baseball history.

Enter flamboyant radio shock jock Steve Dahl. The popular 24-year-old DJ was hired by WLUP-FM several months earlier after he quit another Chicago radio station that had gone to an all-disco format. Dahl, as you can imagine, was not a fan of the disco sound. He and his co-host, Garry Meier, almost immediately started a “disco sucks” campaign that quickly became the focal point of their daily show. Similar programs were live and kicking at album-oriented rock (AOR) stations across the nation; growing up in Detroit, my friends and I were strong supporters of WRIF-FM's DREAD (Detroit Rockers Engaged in the Abolition of Disco) listener army, clutching our gold plastic DREAD cards like they were badges of honor.


Dahl had gotten his start in radio at Detroit-s WABX-FM as one of the rebel rock station's "air aces." But at WLUP, he took the pro-rock/anti-disco mantra it a new level. Listeners would call in to request their most hated disco songs, to be played on the air briefly before one of the hosts swung the record needle (this is long before the era of CDs and MP3s) screeching across the record, followed by an explosion sound effect and a quote borrowed from a popular SCTV skit: “That blowed up real good.”

Dahl quickly developed a rabid following, anointing himself the "field general" in the "war against disco." He nicknamed his troops the "Insane Coho Lips" and had the station issue free ID cards to fans who wanted to enlist in Steve Dahl’s Disco Army “dedicated to the eradication and elimination of the dreaded musical disease known as disco.” Within a week, the station received over 10,000 requests. Dahl even penned his own theme song, “Do Ya Think I’m Disco?" - a parody of the Rod Stewart song "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?"

Veeck saw what he thought was a very good thing in Dahl - a vibrant voice of the people who could convert his cause - the end of disco - into bringing fans to Comiskey Park, home of a bad baseball team and a huge scoreboard that "exploded" with lights and sound when the Sox achieved success. The perfect storm was visible, and the seeds for Disco Demolition Night were planted.

The idea: fans bringing a disco record to the stadium would be charged 98 cents admission (as in 98.3 FM, WLUP's radio frequency) for the doubleheader against the Tigers. The records would be collected in a large trash dumpster by the main gate, and the dumpster would be relocated to center field after the first game of the doubleheader, to be blown into smithereens by Dahl. After the opener, while both teams, umpires, and other baseball personnel went into the locker rooms to take a break before playing the second half of the twinbill, Dahl & Co. went into action.

Dahl welcomed fans to “officially the world’s largest anti-disco rally,” and turned the stage over to the pyrotechnic. With a roaring boom, thousands of disco records met their symbolic death, vinyl shrapnel flying 200 feet in the air. Fans - more than 20,000 - stormed the field and wouldn't leave. Other anti-disco warriors still in the stands began throwing more disco records around and onto the field like Frisbees. Those on the field tore up the turf, lit bonfires, destroyed equipment, and the Sox ended up forfeiting the second game.

According to the 1986 book Rock of Ages: The Rolling Stone History of Rock and Roll the event was the "emblematic moment" of the anti-disco "crusade" and noted that "the following year disco had peaked as a commercial blockbuster". Steve Dahl himself said in an interview with Keith Olbermann that disco "was a fad probably on its way out" but that the event "hastened its demise." Nile Rodgers, guitarist for the popular disco era group Chic said "It felt to us like Nazi book-burning, This is America, the home of jazz and rock and people were now afraid even to say the word 'disco'."

Thirty years later, Disco Demolition Night is still regarded as one of the most memorable - if not successful - promotions in sports history, one of the most infamous since Cleveland's "Ten Cent Beer Night" in 1974.

Thanks to Swindle Magazine for a detailed background on Disco Demolition Night from the Chicago viewpoint.

The Cartman Identity

One of the most famous songs recorded by 1960s comic singer Allan Sherman - who was his era's "Weird Al" Yankovic with a distinct Jewish flavor - is a ditty called "Hail To Thee, Fat Person!" Less than two minuets in length, it ranks as one of the most original social commentaries on obesity:

I would like to explain how it came to pass that I got fat.
Ladies and gentlemen, I got fat as a public service.
When I was a child, my mother said to me,
"Clean the plate, because children are starving in Europe."
And I might point out that that was years before the Marshall Plan
was ever heard of.
So I would clean the plate - four, five, six times a day.
Because somehow I felt that that would keep the children from starving
in Europe.
But I was wrong. They kept starving. And I got fat.
So I would like to say to every one of you who is either skinny
or in some other way normal -
When you walk out on the street, and you see a fat person,
Do not scoff at that fat person. Oh no!
Take off your hat. Hold it over your heart.
Lift your chin up high. And in a proud, happy voice say to him,
"Hail to thee, fat person!
You kept us out of war!"

Some 40 years later, obesity is an even larger (pardon the pun) problem in the United States. According to the Center for Disease Control in a study presented yesterday, 26 percent of the United States adult population - more than one in every four - are obese.

Research has shown that as weight increases to reach the levels referred to as "overweight" and "obesity," the risks for coronary heart disease, type 2 diabetes, cancers (endometrial, breast, and colon), hypertension (high blood pressure), dyslipidemia (for example, high total cholesterol or high levels of triglycerides), stroke, liver and gallbladder disease, sleep apnea and respiratory problems, osteoarthritis (a degeneration of cartilage and its underlying bone within a joint), and gynecological problems (abnormal menses, infertility) also increase.

I bring all of this up not because I was doing intense research on the topic, and not even because I caught myself singling along to Yankovic's own saga to gluttony, "Fat." No, it's because several days ago, I finally decided to get off the couch and get back to basics: I returned to the world of the workout.

Let me backtrack. Two years ago - July 2007 - I planted myself on the bathroom scale and was stunned that the number staring back at me was in excess of 250 pounds for the first time. I have been overweight for years - I can date it back to late high school, when two things happened within a short period of time: (a) I got my driver's license, and (b) my 10-speed was stolen. The two are joined at the hip; I became more dependent on transporting myself via the automobile, and I don't mean the Flintstone's foot-powered behemoth. And thus began the transformation from a skinny (especially in comparison to today) 16-year-old to a somewhat rotund man in his early 40s.

Anyway, I was mortified, and decided, OK, it's time to get to work. I scoped out some area gyms, and despite not being a huge fan of the "commercial" approach, went with the package offered by LA Fitness. The decision centered on several factors - decent cost, variety of equipment, extra options (pool, racquetball courts, basketball courts, sauna), and hours. I also locked into a series of personal trainer sessions.

And I began working out - four, five, six times a week. And in tandem, I began eating better. No more pizza or soda! No more fast food! More salads and grilled chicken! More water!

It was a lifestyle change.

The positive results were not immediate, but they began to take place. The first real sign was in early September, after school resumed, when a coworker noticed that my face was thinner. Even though school had started in mid-August, I was still hitting the gym, but the visits began to dwindle to 2-3 per week. Still, I went from 254 pounds on July 22, 2007, to 240 pounds on September 24, to 229 pounds on November 22.

And then it fell apart. I got lazy. I ate too much (damn holiday season!). I stopped going to the gym on a regular basis. And then, in July 2008, I stopped going altogether.

Well, it's a year later. I have ballooned to 260 pounds as of July 5, and due to a number of factors - three weddings to attend in August and September, paying for a gym membership going to waste (but not to waist, lol), serious interest in a specific member of the female population, and - most importantly - my health and my future - I have made my way back to the world of LA Fitness, with the intent of getting in shape, losing weight, fitting into my suits, leading a healthier lifestyle, and being in the low 200s/high 190s by August 2010. (An average of one pound a week is realistic.)

So far, so good. As of this afternoon, I'm down to 254 pounds.

Brother Blutto Would Be Proud!

One of the many joys I experience on a daily basis is exploring the weird, the strange, the bizarre, that abnormal ... in the world of news. To do this, I rely on many different Internet news and blog sites. But my favorite source of amusement is Fark.com.

If you've never heard of Fark, I suggest you click the link above. You'll happen upon this submitter-created "tagline":

Competing with New York in the "Most Childish State Government" contest, California budget debate devolves into food fight.

Some background is necessary regarding New York, I suppose. According to the New York Daily News, one month after what is dubbed as a "Republican coup" of the New York state senate, the GOP and Democrats are at a stalemate in terms of creating a workable environment for 2009-10. Both parties currently have 31 senators.

Awkward, to say the least.

The stalemate in Albany has stalled many state issues, including - until today - Gov. David Paterson naming a lieutenant governor; the office has been vacant since disgraced Gov. Eliot Spitzer resigned last year and Paterson succeeded him; the state constitution does not provide for filling the office in the event of a vacancy.

As a result, the state's payroll controller has ordered paychecks for all 62 state senators to be withheld - $3,049 per senator for the most recent two-week period. The initial $190,000 - will be added to $1.5 million in expense voucher reimbursement being held back (so far).

The impasse was so bad last week that Paterson ordered the senate back in session Sunday - that would be July 5 - to try and work out something. The "special session" lasted a whopping three minutes before adjournment.

Ah, government in action ... I mean, "inaction" ...

That leads into the situation in California. Like many states, California is struggling financially, and lawmakers are still trying to finalize a budget for the upcoming fiscal year.

Because he feels the legislature should be dealing with the budget first and foremost, Gov. Arnold Schwarznegger apparently took three of the state's lawmakers to task for proposing legislation dealing with (a) creating a blueberry commission, (b) bottle labels for pomegranate juice, and (c) the definition of "honey."

Unfortunately, that's as good as it got. No "Three Stooges" parties gone awry. No mass chaos from Mel Brooks cowboy movies smashing their way into the cafeteria.

Regardless of what results, though, Schwarznegger should be concerned about the budget for 2009-10. After all, there's been no word on how much the state will be asked to contribute in the aftermath of the Michael Jackson festival ... yet.

Coping With "Close but ..."

A mantra I stress to my debate students constantly is that what they do should be fun. "It's not about the trophies," I claim. "Trophies aren't my priority. Debate is an elective, it's an after-school extracurricular. If you're not having fun, why are you doing it?"

I try very hard to live my life following this viewpoint. I know debate coaches who live vicariously through their students' successes, and believe - whether consciously or not - that the number of first-place finishes by their students defines who they are in their school, their debate community, and the debate world at large. I have no intention of being one of these types of individuals.

Now, don't get me wrong, watching students take home a trophy or two (or more) is pretty darn cool. I understand completely what these awards symbolize, and it's certainly nice, from a mentoring and administrative position, to see the fruits of their labors and my guidance result in these positive accolades. It's just that, in the grand scheme of things, the winning of trophies was never why I was hired, and is not a priority in my life. I don't care about wins and losses. I do, however, care about winning and losing fairly. And sometimes, what I end up seeing leaves me scratching my head in confusion.

I being this up because for the past week, I have been in Birmingham, Alabama, at the 2009 National Forensic League national speech and debate championship tournament. This is my second trip to what is touted as the premier national championship tournament for high school debaters; one of my Public Forum Debate teams qualified for the NFL nationals in Wichita two years ago. This year, I had a senior - now a high school graduate - advance from our district qualifier in Congressional Debate, which is just what the name implies - a student-operated version of what you can watch on CSPAN.

Amanda DeStefano is the first student in my school's history to qualify for the NFL national congress, which is a remarkable feat, given the history my program has earned since it was founded in 1988. It's her third national championship tourney; the past two years, she qualified for the National Catholic Forensic League nationals as well. At both NCFL nationals, Amanda advanced to the "Super Congress" final round. Suffice to say, she's pretty darn good at what she does, and has earned the respect from many a peer the past four years.

Amanda had her sites set on advancing to the NFL's final round, and possibly even placing in the top nine. Unfortunately, the powers that be - three judges and a parliamentarian - felt otherwise, and her high school debate career ended in the semifinal round. it was a crushing blow to Amanda, who felt she was much better than many of her fellow semifinal round competitors.

Based on a separate semifinal rounds I had judged on Wednesday (judges can't evaluate competitors from their home region), along with my observations of the championship round (which both Amanda and I watched on Thursday), I have no doubt in my mind that she was more than accurate with her stance. Many - not all, but many - of the speakers I watched in that final round had me scratching my head. One senator quoted South Park's Eric Cartman ("Respect my authority!") in his introduction. Another quipped the much-overused "If the opposite of pro is con, then the opposite of progress is Congress" line. A third opened her speech with a joke about Paris Hilton, the Vice President and the agriculture community.

All of these, plus many more instances of less than professional commentary, had me shaking my head, rolling my eyes, and wondering what the judges and parliamentarian had witnessed in their prelim rounds ... and had me wondering, if this is what advanced from the previous session, just how bad had the non-advancing student legislators been? It also had me a bit depressed - not because Amanda didn't win the whole thing, but because I really wonder about what the judges were thinking, or at the very least what they use as their criteria when scoring speeches and ranking students.

I have no argument about who won the tournament, and won't point fingers at the students or coaches who placed highly in the final round. That would be unfair to both the competitors and their coaches, and this is not an attack on their advancement. But it sure would have been nice to have Amanda as part of that final round, to see if, had perhaps one scorer result been different, she would have been on stage at the awards ceremony tonight.

If it sounds like I am jealous ... well, maybe I am. A bit. As much as I don't want the trophies to define me, there's a small part of me that wouldn't mind such recognition. Is this wrong? No. I'm wise enough to be able to look at the big picture and realize what I am providing to my students - the opportunity to compete, to travel, to grow emotionally and mentally, to be better prepared for college and the "real world" than I ever was when I was in their proverbial shoes - far outweighs receiving a trophy, a plaque, a gavel.

I don't want to live vicariously through my students. At times, though, making the separation can be difficult.

Palin v Letterman

Years ago, I used to watch David Letterman frequently, and by "frequently" I mean "every night." This was back in the days when Letterman was considered by the masses to be a comic genius, when his hair was still more Afro than tight shave, and before Jay Leno was Johnny Carson's replacement.

Much has changed in the past 15+ years. To be honest, I haven't watched a full Letterman show since the early 1990s, and can't even remember the last time I tuned in for even a portion of the show. Most of this is due more to changes in my life than in Letterman's approach to his audience.

Every once in a while, though, I scan the Internet to check out a Top 10 list. And every once in a while, a Letterman story makes its way to the point where I actually, you know, read it and ponder what the heck is happening.

Last week, such a story captured the front pages of those newspapers that are still around to publish in hard-copy format. In case you missed it - and since I don't watch Letterman, I am among those individuals - last Tuesday (June 9), Letterman made some tongue-in-check comments about the former GOP VP candidate and her daughter during their visit to NYC. One of the jokes hinted that the most difficult part of Sarah Palin's trip was "keeping Elliot Spitzer away from her daughter," a second dealt with the concept that Palin's daughter was "knocked up" by Yankees star Alex Rodriguez, and a third focused on Palin going to Bloomingdale's "to update her 'slutty flight attendant' look."

OK, like many of Letterman's jokes (and, to be honest, like most every other late-night host's jokes), this is not high-brow humor. And it would have passed as such, except ... the Palin family took exception and fired back, full guns a-blazing, accusing Letterman of making sexually-perverted rape jokes about 14-year-old Willow Palin.

Now, whether you believe Letterman's eventual apology or not - the apology where he claimed he was referencing 18-year-old Bristol Palin (whose announced pregnancy during the presidential campaign was a conversational topic), not her 14-year-old sister - the irony is that most of American (myself included) would have never had a clue about Letterman's comments, because most of American doesn't watch Letterman. According to David Bauder of the Internet site Town Hall, Letterman's ratings could reach their highest mark in years because of the attention given to what many perceive as a regular set of late-night television throwaway comments.

Additionally, some pundits believe Palin & Co. are jumping on the Letterman commentary not so much due to a sense of personal outrage, but to keep her name front and center in the minds of Americans for the upcoming 2012 presidential campaign.

It's easy to blame "the media" for so many things today. This is not new, or unique, and has included pointing fingers at movie scenes and music lyrics as the reason for an alleged decline in America's moral values. Palin v Letterman follows in this grand tradition, which has included (among other things) a lawsuit against rock band Judas Priest and deletion of a scene in the 1993 football movie The Program. (In 1990, JP was unsuccessfully sued over allegations backward masking of lyrics led to a suicide pact between two Nevada teens. In The Program, a scene depicting high school football players lying down in the middle of a busy road as a way of proving their manhood; the scene was later cut from the film after several children were injured trying to re-create the stunt.)

I'm not saying there aren't problems in the media, or that the media are always responsible. Nor am I saying that Palin's outrage isn't without some merit; at face value, it does take a "cheap shot" (or three) at her and her daughter(s). However, all too often, it seems, what happens in "the media" is blown so far out of proportion with reality, it magnifies the alleged "problem" or "incident" to absurd proportions. Seriously, what is the impact of Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction" on Middle East relations or the alleged importance of Adam Lambert's sexual orientation on the world economy? The irony here is that because the Palins aren't talking about the "flight attendant' joke, the comment has barely (if at all) been mentioned in followup stories the past week.

Letterman apologized to the Palins late last week, but the apology was viewed as half-hearted at best by some individuals calling for the talk show host's head (or, at the very least, his job). Today, Letterman issued a more direct apology (shown below); no reaction yet from the Palin camp. Or from Spitzer, Rodriguez, or flight attendants, none of whom have commented on the fracas the past week, to the best of my knowledge.

Damn You, Casey Kasem!

Here's a fun, Facebook-y, quirky thing to get your mind working in the morning (and possibly cause serious debate at the dinner table later this evening): What are, in your own estimation, 20 songs you cannot live without - the ones you can listen to over and over, and never get tired of?

For music lovers (like me), this can be quite the challenge. So pardon me while I bang my head against the wall and burn through a few dozen legal pads of scribbled notes, because coming up with only 20 is probably the biggest challenge here. Heck, I could probably choose 20 alone by Tom Petty, or The Beatles, but where would get me? What purpose would that serve? And how many more rhetorical questions would I be remiss in not asking?

This actually took more than a few minutes to compile - more like, a few days? - and even longer to rationalize with myself that these songs were the right ones. I mean, I am sure there are a few compositions that are pretty pissed off at me now, and would love to put my head on a stick - if, of course, songs could actually do such a thing. Lucky for me, I suppose, this isn't possible.

So ... here we go!

1: "The Waiting," Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers: Choosing a TP song was definitely a challenge, but I went with this track from Hard Promises (over "Learning to Fly" and "You Wreck Me," very worthy runners-up). A catchy tune that speaks volumes about the quest for love, and finally finding the right one, with an all-too-true mantra about life in general: The waiting is the hardest part.

2: "The Star-Spangled Banner," Branford Marsalis & Bruce Hornsby: From Ken Burns' Baseball soundtrack, this sax-and-piano instrumental duet is the perfect mixture of melodic harmony. It doesn't strive to mock, make noise, or fail in an attempt to hit the high notes. It is hauntingly perfect, and for me to list this over Karen Newman's version speaks volumes.

3: "Life is Beautiful," Achinoam Nini (Noa): Yes, this is the theme song of Life Is Beautiful, Roberto Benigni's Oscar award-winning film. Noa also wrote the lyrics to the song, together with long-time collaborator Gil Dor. (What, you've never heard of her? You're probably not alone. It's difficult to find this Israeli singer's CDs here in the good ol' USA; in fact, I've had to special-order her collection from Israel).

4: "Voices Carry," 'Til Tuesday: I have always loved this song, in part because of the gritty guitar riff, in part because I wanted to be a white knight and kick Aimee Mann's loser boyfriend to the curb (if you've ever seen the video, you know what I'm talking about ... and if you haven't seen it, look below!).

5: "Ballroom Blitz," Sweet: The song that fellow Central Michigan University Chippewa alums Brian Sowa, Mark Wiecek and I danced to countlessly when at our favorite 1960s-themed nightspot, Wooly Bully's. I have no clue when or why this song became "our" song, but it is, and probably always will be.

6: "Call and Answer," Barenaked Ladies: Catchy and powerful lyrics, but not too wacky-crazy or over-the-top (like many BNL songs can be); mellowish, but really cool when factoring in the acoustic guitar.

7: "Imagine," John Lennon: The ultimate optimistic, utopian song. Can you picture a world without borders, without bias, without prejudice? Now, can we make it a reality?

8: "The River of Dreams," Billy Joel: A very biblical, spiritual song. It's about faith and searching for a greater meaning to life ... basically, it's a deeply philosophical song.

9: "Nutbush City Limits," Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band: You can take the Detroiter out of Detroit, but you can't take Detroit out of the Detroiter. What makes this April 1976 cover of the Tina Turner classic special to me is Seger's commentary to the Cobo Hall crowd at the 2:44 mark of the song (re: the Rolling Stone article). Still true today, Bob, still true!

10: "Atlantic City," Bruce Springsteen: A dark, depressing, bleak song about the Philly mob who had all the concrete contracts to build the hotels and casinos in Atlantic City, this song - and album - stuck a chord with me the moment it was released. Nebraska became my favorite Springsteen album, and remains so today.

11: "Soul Food To Go," Manhattan Transfer: The most powerful jazz volcalese group today, and possibly ever. The versatile quartet recorded their approach to Brazilian music with a definitive jazz slant, and the result was magic.

12: "The Fighting Chippewa (Central Michigan University Fight Song)": How could I live without a fight song? Seriously! Fire Up Chips! (And yes, I was at the game where this was videotaped!)

13: "Anniversary Song," Cowboy Junkies: The fact this was the bridal song for my brother Charles and his wife Elisabeth has no bearing on this choice; it does, however, mean they have excellent taste in music! As lead singer Margo Timmins told the audience at one of the shows Jeff Falcon and I attended, "This is our lone upbeat song." It's true. Cool sidebar: The Junkies are one of the few - if not the only - established bands that stays after concerts and meets with fans, often for several hours.

14: "Romeo and Juliet," Dire Straits: The most amazing song about Shakespearean lovers. Ever.

15: "I'll Never Fall In Love Again," Elvis Costello & Burt Bacharach: From the second Austin Powers movie. The film version is only 87 seconds long; the full version is much better. A song about the dangers and disappointments of falling in love, and the ultimate realization that it's better to try, try again.

16: "The Wanderer," U2 & Johnny Cash: A song about redemption - something the Man in Black was so very, very good at presenting in lyrical form. I stumbled across this one by accident when working at WBFH, and it immediately became one of my favorites.

17: "Temptation Waits," Garbage: To the best of my knowledge, this was never released as a single. A pity; I love its catchy beat and energy.

18: "Under Pressure," Queen & David Bowie: The first part of the song is about widespread poverty and society's lack of compassion for those in the trenches. The second asks why we can't love our fellow man. Combined, it's a powerful social statement about the world in which we live.

19: "Mari-Mac," Great Big Sea: How many songs do you know about forced marriages? If you need to know one, this is the one to know. I love the alliteration and tongue-twister lyrical structure of the chorus (Mari Mac's mother's making Mari Mac marry me / My mother's making me marry Mari Mac / Well I'm going to marry Mari for when Mari's taking care of me / We'll all be feeling merry when I marry Mari Mac), as well as the way the song speeds up as it progresses.

20: "Black Widow," Jefferson Starship: My friend Randy Docks turned me on to this one years ago, and it's been a staple ever since!

25 Random Things About "Moi"

As posted on my Facebook tonight ...

1: My life revolves around music. I remember religiously taping Casey Kasem's American Top 40 way back in the day (and this was before I discovered he was the voice of Shaggy in "Scooby-Doo"), and eventually I worked at the Bloomfield Hills Lahser/Andover radio station for 2 1/2 years in high school. That led to college radio, wedding DJ gigs, and having more than 1,600 CDs and vinyl albums to my name right now.

2: I'll take the open road over an airline flight in a heartbeat. I've traveled between Florida and Michigan 20 times the past 10 years (starting with the initial teaching job hunt in June/July of that year), and half have been via my 1997 RAV-4. My most recent of those trips was a 21-day, 4,000-mile drive that allowed me to sightsee and visit friends/family in South Carolina, Ohio, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Washington DC, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. Definitely worth it!

3: I have a difficult time tolerating narrow-minded people who think they are always right and that various opinions other than theirs are irrelevant. Especially when it's with a staunch "religious" or "political" (or both) agenda. Listen, having a belief system is good, and if you truly hold it to your heart and use it in a positive way, then that's cool by me. But don't try to push a dogmatic position down my throat. Give me some credit as a living, breathing adult capable of critically thinking on my own.

4: I lean slightly left of center politically, but don't mistake that for supporting every Democratic party cause that exists. All political parties and many politicians have proven very capable of forgetting who they represent and abusing our tax dollars in ways unimaginable.

5: I support Israel wholeheartedly, and while I'd like to believe "peace" can exist in the Middle East during my lifetime, I'm not about to throw money down on that in Las Vegas any time soon.

6: In the late 1970s, our family went on a vacation to Michigan's Upper Peninsula, and before we left, I bought what appeared to be an interesting book (about a secret post-WWII Nazi organization) for the drive north. That book ended up becoming one of my favorites of all time, and the author is one of my two favorites. The novel I bought at Perry's Drugs: The Odessa File by Frederick Forsyth. (My other favorite author is George Orwell ... and yes, that is quite a contrast in writing styles!)

7: I am a night owl, which probably explains why (a) I write so many of these things when I should be asleep and (b) why i am so friggin' tired in the morning when I go to work.

8: My mailbox fills with between 250-300 "spam" emails a day. Every day. About 95 percent are filtered into the spam folder automatically. I review the folder on occasion (since sometimes an email lands there that shouldn't), and am always amazed at both the NAMES these spammers come up with and the SUBJECT LINES that are types. For the life of me, I cannot fathom ever writing an email to anyone that announces in the subject line, "It's very possible to get a larger organ!" or "Be the hottest man around with a long shaft." I mean, how the hell do they know all this about me? Did I fill out some sort of survey when I first set up an email account years ago?

9: Years ago, I watched Plan 9 From Outer Space. Well, I watched about 10 minutes of it after renting it from Blockbuster. And it's as bad as everyone says. Maybe even worse. I think I had headaches for five days.

10: Most of the time I like my job, but I've said that about virtually every job or position i've ever held. As a teacher, though, I think I could get a lot more actual work done if one of the following two things were absent: either (1) political bureaucrats and their mandates (unfunded class size reduction; FCAT testing), or (2) students. Yeah, i could get more actual work done.

11: I'm holding out hope that President Obama is successful and makes positive changes in the US.

12: FARK.com is the funniest web site I go to daily. My brother Charles introduced it to me a few years ago, and instead of trying to explain it to you, I instead encourage you to check it out yourself. You won't look at news (or purported news) the same way again.

13: I'd rather have substance over style.

14: Almost every night, I go to sleep with the sounds of George Winston's December CD playing on my computer. It is guaranteed to knock me out within 45 minutes.

15: I think online dating sites suck eggs. All of them. Worthless. (Do I sound bitter?)

16: I wear my heart on my sleeve way too often, and that tends to intimidate some people.

17: Along with music, following sports is a passion of mine. I am a HUGE Detroit Tigers and Red Wings fan, and had a perfect professional football season this year when Bubbles the Lioness went 0-16.

18: I am the West Palm Beach area alumni coordinator for Central Michigan University. I am also the Vice President of Individual Events for the Palm Beach Catholic Forensic League. These two titles are not related.

19: My debate program has afforded me the opportunity to do much traveling within the continental US. In the past seven years, I have visited Washington DC, Boston, Raleigh-Durham, Atlanta, Houston, Milwaukee, Chicago, and a few other places for tournaments.

20: However, my passport has yet to be stamped. (When I lived in Detroit, in the pre-9/11 days, we didn't need a passport to cross the border into Canada.)

21: Debate students are continually devising new nicknames for me. The most recent one is "The Notorious PLG." Sounds like I'll have to put together a movie about being a white rapper from the Detroit suburbs who ... what do you mean it's been done already?

22: I have worked at a local weekly newspaper the past four years part-time (and full-time during the summers). I'm also a photographer on the side.

23: I am lactose-intolerant, yet still eat pizza.

24: Stupid people and idiot drivers need to be put out of their misery. That way, they are out of my misery, too.

25: Despite living in Florida for nearly 10 years, I still bleed Detroit.