Nov 2006
Erratum
Thursday 30 November 2006
The blog
below...I love the way that sounds...the blog below
behooved a reader of PoliticalMavens.com, where the Peter
Baldwin story also appeared, to suggest that I
might have been thinking of Vladimir Horowitz. I
can hear Peter imitating the stage mother,
"....will you finally listen to the great
Horowitz?"
My problem is with Vladimir. Don't like the name. Never have. My Spell Check always underlines it in red. I'm sure there may be one or two Vlads who play piano, but the great majority are in Lubyanka Prison pulling nails out or in the Kremlin ordering worse.
Speaking of prison, I am currently editing a book against a looming print deadline, which feels something like being in an isolation cell next to the lethal injection room. There's even a chaplain, as it were, checking in every day to listen to my comments and confessions. For example, he reads this site, and it really upsets him when he sees a new blog entry. The main reason is that he is the author of the book, and related to that is the fact that a new blog entry means that I'm not...
....OK, so the book's on hold while I think for a moment. I could be playing a computer game. No thoughts there. Zero. Or I could be looking at pornography. Lots of thoughts there but confusing. How can three people actually do that? And where do you find a telephone booth these days?
But that's not what I'm thinking about. I'm thinking about the transition between Chapter Five and--
There's the phone. It's ringing. Betcha it ain't the Governor calling in a reprieve.
My problem is with Vladimir. Don't like the name. Never have. My Spell Check always underlines it in red. I'm sure there may be one or two Vlads who play piano, but the great majority are in Lubyanka Prison pulling nails out or in the Kremlin ordering worse.
Speaking of prison, I am currently editing a book against a looming print deadline, which feels something like being in an isolation cell next to the lethal injection room. There's even a chaplain, as it were, checking in every day to listen to my comments and confessions. For example, he reads this site, and it really upsets him when he sees a new blog entry. The main reason is that he is the author of the book, and related to that is the fact that a new blog entry means that I'm not...
....OK, so the book's on hold while I think for a moment. I could be playing a computer game. No thoughts there. Zero. Or I could be looking at pornography. Lots of thoughts there but confusing. How can three people actually do that? And where do you find a telephone booth these days?
But that's not what I'm thinking about. I'm thinking about the transition between Chapter Five and--
There's the phone. It's ringing. Betcha it ain't the Governor calling in a reprieve.
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Whatshisname Transforms a Young Life
Tuesday 28 November 2006
This
story was told to me by Peter Baldwin, an actor
turned director. In the 1980s we worked together on
an HBO movie that got us both fired and had so much
fun we teamed up on pitching a novel about women’s
softball to.... I can’t remember. Some production
types and I think one network. What I do remember is
Peter's describing a certain flight to New York on
which he found himself seated next to the great
pianist.... I want to say Israel Horowitz, but he’s a
playwright. I’m terrible at names, but tell me a
story, and I’m with you, ready to make up quotes and
fill in the blanks.
So there Peter was seated next to Jascha Heifetz, Ferrante & Teicher, Segovia, it doesn’t make any difference. Somebody who could play the piano, and I mean good. They got to talking about what they did. Directing, tinkling the ivories, fending off wannabes who begged to be hired, blessed, referred to whomever could get them a ticket on the Success Express.
“I’ve made it my policy,” said the great pianist, “to turn them all away. If someone plays horribly, maybe they are just having a bad day. How can I judge that? Or if they are great, what can I say? You know as well as I that talent doesn’t necessary get you a job or make you a living. How can I play God and encourage someone into a life of poverty?
“Ah, but it was on this very same airline, the very same flight number. Four and half, five hours, it felt like twenty. At first sight she seemed like such a nice Jewish lady. But as soon as the wheels were up and we had exchanged pleasantries, she was the Stage Mother from Hell. Her son, her son, I must listen to her son. On and on, and for just a moment’s peace I finally said, ‘Yes.’
“We arranged an audition for ten o’clock the next morning in my hotel suite. I went to bed that night, dreading the dawn. She arrived on time with her son. A wholesome looking lad. I gestured to the piano. I held my breath as he sat down. Then he began to play.
“What relief! He wasn’t having either a good day or a bad day. He simply had no talent, and it was clear that happened every day.
“When he was finished, I said to him, ‘Young man, you have a great gift. A love of music that will be with you all the days of your life. You can entertain your friends, fill in the hours of solitude. But I am afraid you should never think of a career—
‘“You see!’ his mother cut in. ‘You see! Your father has tried to tell you! I’ve tried to tell you! Your teachers have tried to tell you! You’re no good! Now, for God’s sake, will you finally listen to the great....?’”
Jimi Hendricks, John Philip Sousa, I wish I could remember his name.
So there Peter was seated next to Jascha Heifetz, Ferrante & Teicher, Segovia, it doesn’t make any difference. Somebody who could play the piano, and I mean good. They got to talking about what they did. Directing, tinkling the ivories, fending off wannabes who begged to be hired, blessed, referred to whomever could get them a ticket on the Success Express.
“I’ve made it my policy,” said the great pianist, “to turn them all away. If someone plays horribly, maybe they are just having a bad day. How can I judge that? Or if they are great, what can I say? You know as well as I that talent doesn’t necessary get you a job or make you a living. How can I play God and encourage someone into a life of poverty?
“Ah, but it was on this very same airline, the very same flight number. Four and half, five hours, it felt like twenty. At first sight she seemed like such a nice Jewish lady. But as soon as the wheels were up and we had exchanged pleasantries, she was the Stage Mother from Hell. Her son, her son, I must listen to her son. On and on, and for just a moment’s peace I finally said, ‘Yes.’
“We arranged an audition for ten o’clock the next morning in my hotel suite. I went to bed that night, dreading the dawn. She arrived on time with her son. A wholesome looking lad. I gestured to the piano. I held my breath as he sat down. Then he began to play.
“What relief! He wasn’t having either a good day or a bad day. He simply had no talent, and it was clear that happened every day.
“When he was finished, I said to him, ‘Young man, you have a great gift. A love of music that will be with you all the days of your life. You can entertain your friends, fill in the hours of solitude. But I am afraid you should never think of a career—
‘“You see!’ his mother cut in. ‘You see! Your father has tried to tell you! I’ve tried to tell you! Your teachers have tried to tell you! You’re no good! Now, for God’s sake, will you finally listen to the great....?’”
Jimi Hendricks, John Philip Sousa, I wish I could remember his name.
Election Special II: The Road Well Traveled
Thursday 09 November 2006
My wife and I have
spent the last three national elections with a Texas
friend named Mark. Two nights ago is the first
one in which we felt like crawling away. At the
door Mark said, "They didn't cheat. They didn't
have great ideas. We just lost it."
True enough.
With both houses of Congress under Democratic control, President Bush needs to scramble--not for a legacy which feeds only ego and not to explain current policy because he's pretty bad at that. What he needs to do is compromise in the Iraq war. If the radical left doesn't take over the Democrat Party completely, Democrats do not want to be known for appeasement and retreat. But they don't want our troops left forever in the desert. To continue "until victory" sounds like that Arab kid calling plaintively, "Lawrence! Lawrence!" until his head sinks under the quicksand, leaving Peter O'Toole to look appropriately grim.
The Administration, therefore, has to delineate goals that are doable and that paint a picture of what Iraq looks like when it can be left to its own devices. For example: X percent of the Iraqi military must take over combat duties by such-and-such a date. Y percent of the police must be on patrol by the same date. Baghdad has to be made secure even if that means draconian martial law, and not enforced by us but by Iraqis. Finally, Z percent of the country's water and power should be working and a set number of key points under heavy guard.
Such goals do not have to result in victory, but they do have to provide markers on a road for when our boys can come home relatively unscathed. That could be the same road that eventually leads to victory. Unfortunately, it is the road that Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi and Osama bin Laden have been counting on America to take. We can only pray that they have miscalculated where it leads.
True enough.
With both houses of Congress under Democratic control, President Bush needs to scramble--not for a legacy which feeds only ego and not to explain current policy because he's pretty bad at that. What he needs to do is compromise in the Iraq war. If the radical left doesn't take over the Democrat Party completely, Democrats do not want to be known for appeasement and retreat. But they don't want our troops left forever in the desert. To continue "until victory" sounds like that Arab kid calling plaintively, "Lawrence! Lawrence!" until his head sinks under the quicksand, leaving Peter O'Toole to look appropriately grim.
The Administration, therefore, has to delineate goals that are doable and that paint a picture of what Iraq looks like when it can be left to its own devices. For example: X percent of the Iraqi military must take over combat duties by such-and-such a date. Y percent of the police must be on patrol by the same date. Baghdad has to be made secure even if that means draconian martial law, and not enforced by us but by Iraqis. Finally, Z percent of the country's water and power should be working and a set number of key points under heavy guard.
Such goals do not have to result in victory, but they do have to provide markers on a road for when our boys can come home relatively unscathed. That could be the same road that eventually leads to victory. Unfortunately, it is the road that Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi and Osama bin Laden have been counting on America to take. We can only pray that they have miscalculated where it leads.
Election Special: George W. Bush, anti-Christ
Monday 06 November 2006
Actually, I always thought the curse of God is Jimmy Carter, but I’m willing to let time decide. What I can't do is ignore the rest of the evils of the Republican Party. A partial list leaves a slime trail back to Richard M. Nixon, the first President in American history to.... Sorry, that was Clinton who was impeached. Nixon got out of facing the House of Representatives by resigning. What a weasle. Anyway, here’s the list:
• Jane Fonda posed on a North Vietnamese anti-aircraft battery while Ramsay Clark was ass-creeping for the folks responsible for killing G.I.s. But at home a Republican Administration did not prosecute them for aiding and abetting the enemy.
• Naval lieutenant John Kerry returned from Vietnam, threw his purple hearts away and testified before a Congressional committee about all the rapists, baby killers and mass murderers with whom he served. He had never reported those atrocities to his superiors while there, and while here he was never charged with dereliction of duty. If you can believe what he said, it is possible he was an accomplice to war crimes. But he’s still running around, pouring vitriol on our troops.
• Republican President Gerald Ford was Commander-in-Chief of our cutting and running when the North Vietnam broke the Paris Peace Accords. We left our South Vietnamese allies to be killed or forced into Communist re-education camps.
• President Ronald Reagan said he was going to retaliate for the terrorist bombing of our Marine Barracks in Beirut. What he did was order all American forces from Lebanon, essentially inviting terrorists everywhere to have another go at us.
• KGB documents show that, while Reagan was calling the USSR an evil empire, Senator Ted Kennedy offered to help the Soviets with their public relations in America. But no one in the Administration brought him up on charges of treason. And he’s still free! Republicans must believe there is one law for the average guy and another for celebrities and alcoholics.
• Remember, “Read my lips”? Lying about tax increases was nothing to letting the foreigners of the United Nations dictate how far we could go in the First Gulf War.
• So now we have the Second Gulf War and George the Younger unable to understand that Islam is not a religion of peace. He is unable to understand that you are not a racist if you think Moslems in the Middle East (and Europe) aren’t ready for democracy. He is unable to understand that getting shot at from a mosque or an apartment complex should be the signal for that structure’s becoming a useful parking lot. And he is unable to understand that if Time-Warner through CNN embeds a reporter with an enemy sniper team, the CEO, bureau chief and the reporter all need to face charges of murder.
• Don’t get me started on illegal immigrants.
People say they are tired of the Iraq War. Most of the time most of those people haven’t lifted one finger of effort, haven’t fought or sacrificed or lost a loved one, haven’t sent a single letter to a soldier, haven’t prayed for the protection of strangers who are neighbors; have pretty much taken it easy with their pleasures and complaining.
What I'm tired of is supporting a President and donating to a party that doesn’t seem to take serious things all that seriously. They might as well be Democrats. This country is headed for a train wreck. Some Republicans are yanking the whistle cord. Other Republicans and most Democrats are shoveling coal into the boiler as fast as they can.
My friend Michael in Oregon puts it this way: "It's a choice of suicide or maybe squeaking by till old age."
That made it a no-brainer when I confronted the Touch Screen Voting terminal in Culver City last week. Rs all the way through. But, boy, I am pissed and can hardly wait for the party primaries. That's the time to vote the bastards out.