Well, The Change Was Made Uptown...

Hastert AND Lott in one day? Wow? I sure wonder what the heck's going on? Are they both going on the payroll of massively powerful lobbying firms? I bet; they both have until the end of the year. However, two more openings to be fair game next November. And yet, what I still see is a Democratic Party that's going to implode by February or March, not based on the war but on the domestic issues the Democratic Party can't seem to unite around.

Dana, Dana, Dana. There is no Dana, only Zoul, I guess? Who made who(sic)?

On the note of heavy metal, Kevin DuBrow, lead singer of Quiet Riot, died today. I used to love the band's 1983 release, "Metal Health". It was so over-the-top, testosterone-laden cheese that as a nine year old I couldn't get enough of. I didn't know who Randy Rhoads was at the time and it doesn't matter still today. I guess DuBrow's death has as much relevance as Brad Delp's from earlier this year, but it's still a bummer. I wonder how he passed?

This one was called all along. Who cares about this week's "peace accords", summit meeting or whatever one wants to call it; the neocon plan was never to simply overturn the government of Iraq. It was to establish a military presence in the region. And, as Allen Greenspan's candid statement regarding oil bears greater weight, we can only assess the most recent war as one of imperialism.

I'm watching a very difficult film, "The Wind That Shakes the Barley", about the Irish independence movement led by the IRA and Sinn Fein after World War I. My own roots, only one generation removed from this contemporary struggle, make it a complex situation, a history with a bloody, checkered past and a story that has a different ending depending on who tells it.

I'll need to recall an amazing story about the new U2 box set, a girl I met in Washington, D.C. and the Joshua Tree tour from twenty years ago. It's a trip.

Long Walk Home

Scott McClellan, former White House press secretary, suddenly had a John Dean conversion and decided to tell the truth. Good for him. While it's only in the interests of his publisher to release the book officially at the peak of the campaign season, may it do nothing but continue to shred the veil of deception and failure of the Bush Administration and all of those who supported it for political gains.

Hillary's lead in a couple of states is beginning to shrink. We can thank the personality-driven media covering this in horse-race fashion and maybe to some of the flesh-pressing of other candidates. What appears to be happening, either for the sake of keeping the 2008 election from being a runaway(who'll read?) or a putsch from the large media corporations, is something of Howard Dean-like proportions: taking a front runner and cutting him or her down at the knees. Conspiratorial I am not; however, how can Hillary have gone from media darling to that word used at the McCain town hall just a couple of weeks ago?

My heart hurts and I've honestly been in a funk the last day from this. This sad news just makes the two shows I caught last month all the more special. Generous postings on YouTube such as this have also shown the support amongst fans and bandmembers alike. The guy's not a family member; I don't claim to know him. I'm just touched by his contribution to the music I love so much. Speedy recovery, Phantom.

On a completely selfish note, the band will be back in northern California in early April. San Jose and Sacramento. I'm there, baby. The Sacto show will fall on the fortieth anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King; I wonder what Bruce may do.

Rudy says that he'll appoint activist judges like Scalia and Thomas to the bench. Either he's a moron or a panderer. Or, maybe, just a bunch of both. Originalism is the greatest intellectually ridiculous Constitutional interpretation to emerge since the 1880s when the Court saw to it that corporations were protected under the 14th Amendment. Oh, and the 18th Amendment. How could Rudy pull this off among most respectable GOPers, much less the entire voting public? What a fool. What a chump. Maybe he should start an smear campaign against himself, calling and attacking his Catholicism, marital problems and political pandering. Apparently, it's working for Mitt right now.

Catch the Alterman gig at U.C. Davis last week. It's not the most entertaining and he's much more boring a public speaker than a politcal analyst, but his points are salient and his new book will be worth it. I'll be buying it and giving it to certain students that I believe, give me hope for the future.

Finally, shame on Newsweek magazine. Hiring Karl Rove as a political contributor simply to "balance" out the Daily Kos? That would be like balancing a church sermon from my pastor with Charles Manson. My response, which is based on economics as well as principle:

Editors of Newsweek:

I write this letter with sadness and anger after receiving the latest issue of my beloved magazine. I have subscribed to Newsweek for over a decade and have come to rely on its insightful journalism and poignant opinion articles. For the last two years I have also shared Newsweek with my students classroom subscriptions and have found that today's youth seek to be informed of current events. Throughout my readership of the magazine, I always felt that Newsweek strove to remain above trends and the political fray of the twenty-four cable news networks. Thus, I was disgusted to see that the magazine has recently hired Karl Rove as a political contributor.

From a marketing perspective, I understand why the magazine would do such a thing; with subscriptions diminishing and journalism evolving into the digital realm, print-based periodicals such as this are searching for whatever can bring in and maintain readership. The hiring of the 'blogger from the Daily Kos could, rightfully seen, be "balanced" by a conservative polar-opposite. One would imagine the pool to draw from, those witty and intelligent as staple George Will but on the "inside" enough to be edgy and controversial to draw attention. However, Karl Rove is beyond the pale of not just acceptable journalism but political behavior and civic mindedness in this nation. Partisanship aside, what Mr. Rove and others like him have done to the political atmosphere is appalling; no longer do majority parties have a "loyal opposition"; the Rove-led Republican strategy of the last seven and a half years has been to destroy the Democratic Party and the credibility of any political camp other than his version of conservatism. With that, the historical record shows that Rove has stopped at nothing to achieve victory, all the while destroying truth along the way: Senator John McCain's presidential bid in 2000; 2002 congressional candidates' lambasting as "unAmerican"; Senator John Kerry's presidential bid and allegations of disloyalty. "Swiftboating" has only entered the American lexicon out of spiteful revenge-based political maneuvers by Rove and his ilk; will this nation ever recover from such post-truth politicking? Highly unlikely if Mr. Rove continues to be under the employ of Newsweek magazine.

Mr. Rove's political career may make many people cynical of politics based on his strategies. However, the most egregious act in the nation's system of government of placing partisanship over principles, which is what Mr. Rove and other high-ranking White House officers, including, apparently, the President and Vice President of the United States, did, with the CIA leak scandal, "Plamegate". This was not just simply politically damaging, it was illegal. While Mr. Rove did not eventually face charges, his close connections to such a shameful and disgraceful act make him damaged goods; that Newsweek, at the risk of alienating so much of its readership, would hire Mr. Rove is not only beyond rationality, it is beyond acceptability and reproach. My subscription, therefore, pays his salary, and I can not be party to this in good conscience.

Therefore, it is with great sadness and dismay that I will be allowing my subscription to this erstwhile respectable publication to expire. I will also be cancelling my classroom subscriptions as well and justify my actions to my students that integrity and honesty are values that many Americans still cling to in this divided country. In this case, please understand that it is not partisanship but principle. May this publication learn from this action that there exists more than a fine line between controversy and the rule of law, truth and deception, and the bottom line versus bottom of the barrell. As a patriotic American, let me end my relationship with this magazine with a verse by a folk singer who espouses the values of honesty and integrity over profit, partisanship and divisiveness:

...that flag flying over the courthouse
means certain things are set in stone
who we are, what we'll do
and what we won't.


Sincerely,

Paul Taylor


Happy turkey day, everyone. Let us count our blessings and all that we have that keep us safe and sane in this world.

It Was Twenty Years Ago Today...

That my life changed forever. I attended my first rock and roll concert with three friends from school. The show was at the Oakland Colesium Stadium and the ticket sales placed the audience at 62,000 (one of the largest shows I've ever attended). We arrived over four hours ahead of the door in order to get in line and do "the scene". My friends smuggled cigarettes with them and one bought beer in the parking lot from a guy selling them out of an army duggle bag slung over his shoulder. I had just turned fourteen and started my freshman year in high school. Three bands were on the bill though I hadn't heard of the opener. It would end up being the last Day On the Green. I was thrilled and scared at the same time, not knowing what to expect. I had three or four of the headlining band's seven albums and loved their latest. That album went on to sell nearly twenty million copies. The album was The Joshua Tree. The band was U2.

I still have memories of that day like no other. Like losing my virginity, except over the course of an entire day and with throngs of people there. Truly, I was William Miller, looking around in panic at the fact that people were smoking marijuana and not getting caught; that we'd get in trouble because we were sitting on the first base dugout; that someone's parents would find out that we had also taken a bunch of No-Doz thinking they'd give us some sort of buzz. Only a pack of young teenagers would do what we did: sit perfectly still for the opening bands, the BoDeans and the Pretenders (whom we loved and were thrilled that Johnny Marr from the Smiths was with them on guitar) but left our perfect seats several songs in to go wander around the concourse. I still remember us finding a pay phone to call the girl's older sister who couldn't go who was sitting at home in order for her to hear "October" and "New Year's Day". Then moving to the very top seat of the third deck for the remainder of the show where the band were ant-sized and the screens on the side of the stage gave me a slight glimpse of the four men whom I'd come to idolize over the last six months on stage. I remember watching a girl dancing to "Pride" though I didn't know the song because I didn't have the album yet and the view of the giant Mormon temple in the darkness. What I remember the most was the thought that I'd seen the face of God in a live rock and roll performance and that I'd never NEVER be the same again.

My dad gave me $20 in spending money, though I don't remember even eating dinner, or lunch for that matter. I bought a t-shirt for $17 and a $3 patch that I still have. Now I have the show on disc; it's nowhere close to the memory etched in my mind, though the two complement each other well. Like slight conflicting stories in the Gospels, both mix to create a bigger story than themselves; the band played many wrong notes and Bono was often out of tune. Bono pulled a girl out of the crowd during "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" and had to stop singing because she began to cry. The song fell apart structurally (as told on the tape) and yet it was one of the magical moments of the show. Having played a free concert in the Embarcadero of San Francisco earlier in the week (and Bono having been arrested for "vandalism" of a piece of public art), the band invited the sculptor of the piece to "vandalize" in return the stage's backdrop of the giant Joshua Tree, in which the guy did so for nearly most of the show. Closing with "40", the band walked off stage to the crowd singing, "How long to sing this song?" from the Psalm but I being so young and naive, had no idea what was being sung. I think I sang a half-dozen variations of the lyric for the minutes that only Larry Mullen, Jr. remained on stage keeping the beat with the snare and bass drums.

As we made our way to the BART station after the lights came on, I remember the thrill of the concert, the sights and smells of the entire experience and the rush of being swept up in something so much grander than myself; that tens of thousands of people would create a giant, living singular organism for a short several hours in order to serve a common purpose, that I had seen BONO and the other guys. And that I'd seen a girl named Nancy who went to Northgate high school and who was a junior and who was drop-dead gorgeous but whom never knew I even existed because I had only fallen in love with her from afar at the numerous swim meets our summer leagues and high schools entered. I probably have more indelible memories of this night than any other save for my wedding. Oh, what a night. I've never been the same since. Thank God.

It's More Than All This...

The economy is going to hit the skids, even worse than it already is. Sub-primes are going to kill things. The dollar's plummeting value. If GM and Chrysler are tanking, things will get worse for many American factory production plants. The nation's morale is lowest since Nixon. We're entering an election cycle that appears pretty uninspiring. I haven't even considered the holidays; I imagine people won't be spending like they did in years past. They shouldn't; their gasoline and cars and groceries and mortgages are all going to be more next year that now.

The Song Remains the Same - coming out in two weeks. I'm curious what the new box set consists of. Is there any new material? Probably not, unless those MSG shows produced anything different from the rest of the tour. Will two versions of the show be available - with and without the film sequences? Will the stuff from How the West Was Won be included in the new release?

The Joshua Tree - I see that the second disc of "goodies" is nothing more than the singles released from 87-88. I originally had all of the singles on cassette but ditched them. These singles were also released as a B-disc on U2's greatest hits package several years ago. This makes picking up the package not such a priority. The DVD also appears to not be an entire concert, at least according to Amazon. That and the price tag of $50 isn't really the way to release material that ten million people already have and probably half are interested in hearing the remastered album. This album took me through many years of my life and when I hear it, which is not that often, it still delivers the emotional and personal passions and rock and roll cravings it did twenty years ago.

Still waiting for someone to give me a review of the latest Eagles album.

Recovering well from yesterday.

Trouble In Paradise

Tomorrow I undergo an elective procedure that will either go as planned or severely wrong. While the risk factor is relatively low, I do wonder just in fact whether this will be my last night of normality.

Today was "Rock T Shirt" day at school, a spirit day put on by the leadership class. Of course I participated but I sure felt like a DORK. A guy in his thirties wearing a concert t-shirt. Yup, just like everyone's uncle who still rants and raves about that one Day On the Green with Van Halen in the early 80s who'll show you the remnants of the shirt he still has. What redeemed the day was one of my students who will go on to make me proud that I teach who was wearing her father's Eat A Peach For Peace shirt. The original kind with the band logo above the giant peach truck from the who-knows-when era. It was old enough that Dickey hadn't hit Warren yet. Anywho, I was pretty darned impressed.

I'm coming down with a cold which hasn't made this week of mid-70s daytimes and mid-40s nights easy. The time change still has my oldest son waking up at 5:30 and my babies crashing early. Argh. Oh well; living proof.

One year from today (God, that long!) we vote to end the Bush era. Where we'll be, who knows but what I would like to surmise is the darkhorse candidates who still have yet to throw their hats into the ring. Front-runner fatigue will set in, someone's sex fetish will emerge, and yet we still have one more trip around the sun before the worst presidency of our history marks its replacement. I've said this the last two elections - I'm getting extremely drunk, either in celebration or mourning.

Oakland Night One

Here.

Adam Raised A Cain

I normally don't write about my family. The emergency of a couple of weeks ago has, amazingly, become for now, just a concern, after the doctor in Martinez conducted a successful removal of a tumor from my wife's mother's intestinal tract. I don't like to write about my children for the sake of their privacy and that I can't compete against others' blogs that are focussed on how their progeny bless their lives on a daily occurrence. I must break that, for just this once.

My three year old son is teaching me Zen-like patience and how in order not to kill him I need to be understanding and a little less short-tempered. A three year old is bipolar; every emotion is pegged at "10" with sadness, frustration, elatedness, fear and love factors ratcheted up to the Nth degree. My little boy can either push every button in my day or remind me just how blessed I am to have the cutest and smartest child ever brought into the world. Tonight, being on the kick of late, dug out a video bootleg of the 9/19/78 Passaic, New Jersey show to watch the amazing "Backstreets" that includes the in-utero "Drive All Night" until the winter months of the tour. My lit'lun ran into my lap, yelling, "I just love to watch Bruce with you!!!" while squashing my soon-to-be-superfluous-reproductive organs with a body blow and knee that took the wind right out of me. He soon rested his head against my chest and relaxed with the trust only a child gives and then darted out of my lap because his cars on the kitchen floor called. Yet another fleeting moment of when the holiness of glancing memory captures the whirlwind of vitality that a child is. While I understand that I can't posssibly get any more melodramatic right now, I wanted to record the moments tonight brought: eating his salad for the first time; making his infant sister audibly laugh; contemplate just whether or not it would be Buzz or Woody that made it into the room and bed for nighttime; running downstairs and avoiding the tuck-in right as Mommy was ready to sell him to the gypsies; the hug and kiss that melts his father's heart which will buy him another night and possible morning, unless he wakes up again at 5:30 ready to play and tear his room apart.
I wonder how he'll grow up and appreciate his siblings. The brotherly tension we all read about is not literary cliche; I pray that it never divides my sons as it has those of greater fame and notoriety. Steinbeck's brilliant novel set in the Salinas Valley and the amazing performance from two weeks ago brings home the truth of sibling rivalry of nothing but attention for the love of the father figure. What pressure and responsibility for me to live up to. While I tackle such duties without second thought, there is always the second-guessing that I will parent as my children need and I myself hope to execute. For now, the answers to my questions come in the form of all-too-early peals of laughter and singing and greetings of "good morning, Daddy!"

Life is good.

You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch)

Check this out!!! Too cool. And I was there!!!