Celebration Day and Other Random Musings

Mr. President, may your 49th birthday have brought you peace, relaxation and a day with your girls. Gosh, I sure hope to be able to meet you on Monday!!!

A U.S. District Court judge ruled today that my state's Proposition 8, which banned gay marriage, is unconstitutional. I was late catching the news and yet, I told colleagues and friends. While many of my friends, family and co-religionists ardently disagree with me on this, marriage is the foundation and cornerstone of society; what brings us together and helps us create family and community, especially in this day in age is critically important. Why deny those who wish to do so? A colleague years ago flippantly told me, "why should straight people have the monopoly on misery?" and yet, I've not once felt that my marriage and its value was being threatened. This will be tomorrow's lesson plan in my civics class and I anticipate good discussion. Hopefully, while we get heated, we can debate this in a mature and progressive fashion. All I know is that I'm thrilled.

My father, whom I've written about many times, is the mayor of my little city. I love my town and I love my dad. I also often get driven crazy by the stories my old man has told me regarding the connections he has made in his tenure of my city's "chief executive". Monday will possibly be the worst: as head of a transportation committee overseeing a federal stimulus program, my father may be able to participate in a ribbon-cutting ceremony with the Secretary of Transportation and the President of the United States. I'll save the Horatio Algers story for another time but my dad has done some amazing things in his life. This just may take the cake. I've been begging to accompany him, though I doubt it will happen.

Music: Ah, heaven! The Black Crowes' latest, Croweology, seems to be the dumbest title of an album in a while. At least it doesn't look as dumb as Bruce's latest. Reviews continue to pour in raving about this final send-off by a band that has always done what it wants all the while honoring their rock and roll forebearers. I have to order the dumb thing, though, so it won't be here for a while.
Rock history - we're going to hit the Anthology of American Folk Music and Preservation Hall tomorrow. Can you dig it? Not enough.
Truth and Salvage - you guys are freaking killing me!!! Dates announced will put them in Sacramento, the first day of my fall break and in San Diego when we're supposed to be visiting my brother's family!!! If/when I can catch these, they'll put me at a whopping total of EIGHT times this year that I'll have seen them. Isn't that amazing? And yet, when listening to their record, like I was this afternoon, I'm still blown over at the solid performance, pop craftsmanship and those harmonies that take me to heaven. I can't remember the last time I was knocked out this much by a modern band. Maybe Derek Trucks, but never have I had the opportunity to catch so many performances in such a short time. Keep it up, guys.
The Basement Tapes. I think I agree with Levon, here. The Band and Bob Dylan work just as well for me as Bob Dylan and the Band. Who wrote what matters not; what matters is a series of recordings [album?] that defy time and era. Can one tell it's 1967? 2010? 1923? Does it matter? Content and execution defy definition; here is music that builds truths and pedigree even without lineage. The mystery only adds further beauty to a group of songs that are non-descript and downright plain. There are no "Laylas", no "Born to Runs"; nothing that defines anything for the listener. That is where the Basement Tapes possess their value; the listener must give up everything in order to approach this music, only to see that any music, of any genre, when delivered for the sake of delivering music, MUST be larger than the person/people delivering it. Even when the song is completely non-descript and plain, I find myself amazed at how the stories push the musicians to find THAT take, THAT performance, THAT sound, only to have been shelved and hidden for so long because their only value lay in presenting them to a select few listeners. Not the masses, not the suits, not the labels. How many other nameless and lost recordings have been made by people performing timeless music as such? Why can't I?!?!?!?!

Off to read the latest David Sedaris article in this week's New Yorker!