Living in North Texas is a challenge for a moderate. Everywhere I go, I am confronted with Republican anger over everything President Obama does. It seems nearly everyone I interact with is a follower of Rush Limbaugh or Fox News. And they are furious.
The current topic du jour is health care reform. The conservative consensus is that socialized medicine is bad and that everyone should pay their own way. What they fail to see is that through our current private pay system, we already have state-supported healthcare. It's just indirect.
If I don't have health insurance, I cannot be refused treatment at a hospital. I may be eligible for a host of other benefits too, like SCHIP and Medicaid, to name a few others.
If I don't pay my hospital bills, who pays? Everyone else, of course -- the payers support the non-payers through higher prices. This is also true for those who pay out of pocket rather than those who have insurance. Doctors charge different rates for those with insurance and those without.
The policy decision made many moons ago, which is sound, is that no one should be denied necessary healthcare. The only question remaining is who should pay for it, and how.
The best analogy here is to auto insurance. We are all required to have it (liability coverage, anyway). Why? So that everyone is responsible for losses they cause. It's not a big stretch to make the same argument for healthcare. If health coverage were mandatory (either via employer payroll deduction or private pay), then all employed persons would immediately be paying and participating in the system fairly. Yes, there would still be "free riders," namely children, seniors, the disabled, and the unemployed. But the workers of America have always supported those who are unable to do so.
As a side benefit, pre-existing condition issues would be a thing of the past. If you always had coverage, you would never be declined for coverage based on a previous medical problem. It would devolve to the former and current insurance companies to hash out who pays.
It's myopic to think that the current system is working. While doctors and Big Pharmaceutical may oppose government price controls, it is no different than the various state insurance regulatory authorities setting limits on car insurance. The state has a legitimate public health interest in establishing parameters for health insurance, including pricing and availability.
The remaining issues (chiefly choice of doctor and denial of services concerns) are no different going forward than they are at the present.
Fortunately, many in the GOP acknowledge that the current system is broken. If their main beef with Obamacare is the public option, I can understand their concern. But to fight the President's plan on the basis that it is socialist, or that universal health care is somehow evil, is just stupid and ignores the reality of our current situation.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Why I voted for Obama
Today I went to the White Settlement senior recreation center and, to the voice of a persistent old guy cajoling even older women to greater heights of calisthenics, I participated in early voting for the 2008 general election.
I voted for Barack Obama.
Obama inspires me and moves me like no politician in my adulthood. He appeals to the naive idealist in me. Moreover, I respect him -- intellectually and from his commitment to public service. I think he honestly cares about the country and wants to make it a better place. I trust his motives and his character.
Ironically, I supported John McCain in 2000 in the Republican primaries. I even joined his ill-fated Texas operation briefly. After watching his candidacy get torpedoed by Karl Rove's smear squad, it seems McCain has taken the position that he must adopt similar tactics to win office. He is no longer the man he was eight years ago, and sold his political soul to the RNC. That was made all too clear in his selection of Sarah Palin as his running mate and his failure to control the RNC attack machine, which is intent on making this election about fear.
Palin is a hypocritical, judgmental, right-wing ideologue -- and as much of an anti-intellectual as you can get. Her selection was a pandering manuever to the far right of the Republican party, with a hope that she would attract disaffected Hilary Clinton "hockey mom" voters to McCain's ticket. Electing McCain is essentially voting in Palin as President, given the odds of McCain's surviving four (or eight, heaven help us) years in office. I cannot abide the far right's social conservatism, and neither can most moderate Americans.
It remains to be seen, however, how either candidate can really do anything substantially different, given America's current military and financial entanglements. Even if those crises were solved, payments on the federal debt, entitlements, and other minimum items offer little wiggle room for new programs -- let alone tax cuts.
Let's hope that whomever is elected has the guts to balance the budget and start America on the road to being debt-free.
I voted for Barack Obama.
Obama inspires me and moves me like no politician in my adulthood. He appeals to the naive idealist in me. Moreover, I respect him -- intellectually and from his commitment to public service. I think he honestly cares about the country and wants to make it a better place. I trust his motives and his character.
Ironically, I supported John McCain in 2000 in the Republican primaries. I even joined his ill-fated Texas operation briefly. After watching his candidacy get torpedoed by Karl Rove's smear squad, it seems McCain has taken the position that he must adopt similar tactics to win office. He is no longer the man he was eight years ago, and sold his political soul to the RNC. That was made all too clear in his selection of Sarah Palin as his running mate and his failure to control the RNC attack machine, which is intent on making this election about fear.
Palin is a hypocritical, judgmental, right-wing ideologue -- and as much of an anti-intellectual as you can get. Her selection was a pandering manuever to the far right of the Republican party, with a hope that she would attract disaffected Hilary Clinton "hockey mom" voters to McCain's ticket. Electing McCain is essentially voting in Palin as President, given the odds of McCain's surviving four (or eight, heaven help us) years in office. I cannot abide the far right's social conservatism, and neither can most moderate Americans.
It remains to be seen, however, how either candidate can really do anything substantially different, given America's current military and financial entanglements. Even if those crises were solved, payments on the federal debt, entitlements, and other minimum items offer little wiggle room for new programs -- let alone tax cuts.
Let's hope that whomever is elected has the guts to balance the budget and start America on the road to being debt-free.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Mortgage bail-out?
President Bush signed the ballyhooed mortage bailout bill, and while the law does bail out Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae, it's lukewarm relief at best for distressed homeowners. Why?
Because the lender may rework the loan through the Federal Housing Administration. There is no requirement that the loan be modified, even if the borrower meets the standards under the law. All the law does is provide a structure in which the new loan can be made at the lender's option.
It remains to be seen how many lenders will avail themselves of this program. As long as there is a greater financial incentive for them to rework the loans, this may work. The only carrot being offered here is the possibility that the borrower can perform under a new fixed mortgage where they could not perform under the old (presumably ARM) mortgage. In cases where the problem was not the interest rate but rather the amount borrowed, the new law will give no relief. Folks with "too much house" won't be helped by this law.
See also http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080730/ap_on_bi_ge/mortgage_relief_q_a
Because the lender may rework the loan through the Federal Housing Administration. There is no requirement that the loan be modified, even if the borrower meets the standards under the law. All the law does is provide a structure in which the new loan can be made at the lender's option.
It remains to be seen how many lenders will avail themselves of this program. As long as there is a greater financial incentive for them to rework the loans, this may work. The only carrot being offered here is the possibility that the borrower can perform under a new fixed mortgage where they could not perform under the old (presumably ARM) mortgage. In cases where the problem was not the interest rate but rather the amount borrowed, the new law will give no relief. Folks with "too much house" won't be helped by this law.
See also http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080730/ap_on_bi_ge/mortgage_relief_q_a
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
More on the Gitmo Travesty
Turns out that Guantanamo Bay wasn't just for the "worst of the worst" terrorists ... in reality, it's a place where ordinary footsoldiers and old men, brought to the prison because of score-settling and bounties collected by their Afghani countrymen, ended up mixed with the handful of real Al-Qaeda operatives.
http://www.star-telegram.com/464/story/701139.html
This is why due process is such a big deal, folks, and why Guantanamo Bay needs to be closed immediately. Imagine being held for years without being charged or tried for any crime, and having no means to defend yourself and none of the protections of the Geneva Convention.
http://www.star-telegram.com/464/story/701139.html
This is why due process is such a big deal, folks, and why Guantanamo Bay needs to be closed immediately. Imagine being held for years without being charged or tried for any crime, and having no means to defend yourself and none of the protections of the Geneva Convention.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
This is the voice of Gen Y?
Not everyone in pop music is a virtuoso, a poet, or a visionary. I accept that. Some of my favorite music (say, from 1977 through 1993) is relatively mindless post-punk, new wave fun. But few of those pop artists cloaked themselves in an aura of musical sainthood -- they seemed just happy to have the fortune and glory of stardom. Those artists that did have something meaningful to say (U2, for instance), said it powerfully and without apology.
But now we have John Mayer, the man who considers himself the inheritor of the guitar throne of Hendrix, Clapton, Santana, and Vaughan. He's everywhere in the tabloids, too, frolicking from one starlet to the next. Womanizing young rock stars are nothing new. But Mayer's attempt at social and political relevance sets a new standard for vapidity and slackerdom.
Here's what his website (http://www.johnmayer.com/bio) had to say about his most recent hit, "Waiting on the World to Change":
This is the musical/political spokesman for Generation Y? He's too afraid to get into a debate because the situation isn't static? It's a lame excuse, and frankly insulting to the numerous twentysomethings that do actually give a damn and are willing to risk a little conflict.
Mayer starts with a Van Morisson sound and marries it to milquetoast lyrics, creating a saccharine tribute to inaction. The net result? A catchy tune justifying ignorance and apathy. I wonder what Joan Baez, John Fogerty, and other musicians whose souls bled on vinyl in the 60's would say about Mayer's philosophy. Would Mayer still be "Waiting on the World to Change" if he was drafted?
The simple truth is that Mayer promotes a do-nothing attitude because it's not his ass on the line.
Greg Kot, reviewing a guitar festival at which Mayer performed this drivel, put it this way (at http://crossroadsguitarfestival2007.com/presscoverage.html):
I have news for you, Johnny -- you can keep on waiting, but the world isn't going to change, and if it does, it's not going to be in a way that makes it any easier for any of us. Taking action to make things better takes guts. You have to be willing to fail in order to make a difference. Your song, in short, is a candy-coated enabling of a generation of slackers who, if they listen to you, will remain blissfully unaware of the world crumbling around them.
"Someday our generation's/gonna rule the population."
Heaven help us.
But now we have John Mayer, the man who considers himself the inheritor of the guitar throne of Hendrix, Clapton, Santana, and Vaughan. He's everywhere in the tabloids, too, frolicking from one starlet to the next. Womanizing young rock stars are nothing new. But Mayer's attempt at social and political relevance sets a new standard for vapidity and slackerdom.
Here's what his website (http://www.johnmayer.com/bio) had to say about his most recent hit, "Waiting on the World to Change":
With "Waiting on the World to Change", Mayer shot for something even more
ambitious - something like an attempt to explain his generation's attitudes
about politics. "It's meant to shed a little light on inactivity and inaction,"
he says, "because I don't believe that inaction is disinterest, I think inaction
is preservation – nobody wants to get involved in a debate in which the rules
and the facts will change so that they'll lose. So we end up with this other
option, which is, I guess we'll just have to wait for things to get better.
This is the musical/political spokesman for Generation Y? He's too afraid to get into a debate because the situation isn't static? It's a lame excuse, and frankly insulting to the numerous twentysomethings that do actually give a damn and are willing to risk a little conflict.
Mayer starts with a Van Morisson sound and marries it to milquetoast lyrics, creating a saccharine tribute to inaction. The net result? A catchy tune justifying ignorance and apathy. I wonder what Joan Baez, John Fogerty, and other musicians whose souls bled on vinyl in the 60's would say about Mayer's philosophy. Would Mayer still be "Waiting on the World to Change" if he was drafted?
The simple truth is that Mayer promotes a do-nothing attitude because it's not his ass on the line.
Greg Kot, reviewing a guitar festival at which Mayer performed this drivel, put it this way (at http://crossroadsguitarfestival2007.com/presscoverage.html):
John Mayer’s “Waiting on the World to Change” may be the most spineless
social-justice song ever written. It advocates a passive approach, whereas the
song it most closely resembles --- Curtis Mayfield’s classic “People Get Ready”
--- urges everyone to get involved, or risk being left behind.
I have news for you, Johnny -- you can keep on waiting, but the world isn't going to change, and if it does, it's not going to be in a way that makes it any easier for any of us. Taking action to make things better takes guts. You have to be willing to fail in order to make a difference. Your song, in short, is a candy-coated enabling of a generation of slackers who, if they listen to you, will remain blissfully unaware of the world crumbling around them.
"Someday our generation's/gonna rule the population."
Heaven help us.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
One more reason to shake your head ...
For more on our government's failure to provide basic due process rights to those held at Guantanamo Bay ...
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080609/ap_on_go_ca_st_pe/guantanamo_interrogations
These men were held indefinitely, essentially under a suspended writ of habeas corpus -- then the government denies them any access to prosecutorial information to defend themselves. But is this really surprising considering our current policies concerning torture and rendition?
This is an affront to our values, our legal system, and the American way. Anyone who believes in liberty should be appalled at this, yet another step on Bush II's road to a fascist state.
One assumes that the "detainees" (what a sanitized term ... call them kidnappees or prisoners) are only now getting a trial so that their judgments can be pronounced prior to W's exit from office. Let's hope their attorneys can delay the cases long enough for a new chief executive to change policy and end this travesty in a just manner. What would be just? A civilian criminal trial or a war crimes trial as provided under the Geneva Conventions.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither -- and lose both." -- Benjamin Franklin
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080609/ap_on_go_ca_st_pe/guantanamo_interrogations
These men were held indefinitely, essentially under a suspended writ of habeas corpus -- then the government denies them any access to prosecutorial information to defend themselves. But is this really surprising considering our current policies concerning torture and rendition?
This is an affront to our values, our legal system, and the American way. Anyone who believes in liberty should be appalled at this, yet another step on Bush II's road to a fascist state.
One assumes that the "detainees" (what a sanitized term ... call them kidnappees or prisoners) are only now getting a trial so that their judgments can be pronounced prior to W's exit from office. Let's hope their attorneys can delay the cases long enough for a new chief executive to change policy and end this travesty in a just manner. What would be just? A civilian criminal trial or a war crimes trial as provided under the Geneva Conventions.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither -- and lose both." -- Benjamin Franklin
Monday, May 12, 2008
More on Real Estate and Mortgages
Here's a good example of "investor" speculation fueling the mortgage crisis:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/24569891/
(Self-absorbed man buys eight negative-amortization homes and loses his shirt when the market goes bad).
I have represented several clients with a similar story, though none used such a ridiculous mortgage product. In a neg-am loan, the borrower artificially reduces his payment BELOW the amount necessary to cover the interest. Principal is never paid. You read that right. The balance on the note gets bigger over time! As if interest-only mortgages weren't bad enough.
The real estate business is a mine field, and investing in it with mostly borrowed money (or in risky mortgage variants) puts your financial future in the hands of shaky tenants to pay the rent and a volatile real estate market to eventually recapture your investment.
There are thousands of people in North Texas right now who think they are the next Donald Trump. These "investors" are "investing" in real estate with other people's money, and for every success story there are ten others who have flamed out, unable to pay the mortgages on properties nobody wants to rent or buy.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/24569891/
(Self-absorbed man buys eight negative-amortization homes and loses his shirt when the market goes bad).
I have represented several clients with a similar story, though none used such a ridiculous mortgage product. In a neg-am loan, the borrower artificially reduces his payment BELOW the amount necessary to cover the interest. Principal is never paid. You read that right. The balance on the note gets bigger over time! As if interest-only mortgages weren't bad enough.
The real estate business is a mine field, and investing in it with mostly borrowed money (or in risky mortgage variants) puts your financial future in the hands of shaky tenants to pay the rent and a volatile real estate market to eventually recapture your investment.
There are thousands of people in North Texas right now who think they are the next Donald Trump. These "investors" are "investing" in real estate with other people's money, and for every success story there are ten others who have flamed out, unable to pay the mortgages on properties nobody wants to rent or buy.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
The Real Estate Market
Residential real estate prices have fallen and sellers ask "has it bottomed out yet?" The answer is no. A glut in available homes coupled with a downturn in homeowner purchasing power is a recipe for a market slump.
Flat wages and increased costs of living for transportation, utilities, and food have made it harder for North Texans to justify a mortgage commitment at the prices of yesteryear. In Tarrant County, a mortgage payment higher than $1,200.00 is beyond the means of most people. Yet the new home construction continues (typically priced at $150,000.00 or higher), adding to the oversupply problem.
The factors in North Texas leading to this crisis:
Flat wages and increased costs of living for transportation, utilities, and food have made it harder for North Texans to justify a mortgage commitment at the prices of yesteryear. In Tarrant County, a mortgage payment higher than $1,200.00 is beyond the means of most people. Yet the new home construction continues (typically priced at $150,000.00 or higher), adding to the oversupply problem.
The factors in North Texas leading to this crisis:
- overbuilding;
- speculation in the real estate market;
- the aggressive marketing of risky mortgage products, including interest-only and adjustable rate mortgages;
- the refinancing boom of 2002-2006, resulting in a reduction in home equity;
- a flat or falling job market in most sectors; and
- increases in consumer costs in transportation, food, and utilities
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Loving the Illegals
The work line was forwarded to my cell phone. It chirped at me during the middle portion of my ice cream sandwich.
She beat around the bush for a bit, then asked me whether the Texas Workforce Commission was illegally discriminating against her by suggesting she learn Spanish to help her get a receptionist position. The weary woman said she was 40 years old and couldn't learn Spanish tomorrow.
I sympathized with her frustration and told her I'm not a labor lawyer, but that if a job required a bilingual employee then her inability to speak Spanish seemed to be a legitimate reason to not hire her. Like a company not hiring a disabled person for a job requiring heavy lifting. I recollected that the employer had to make reasonable accomodations for disabled folks, but being monolingual is not a disability.
It took a few tries to convey the overall message to her.
"So basically you're saying you're with the illegals. Fuck you!"
Not exactly what I had in mind after spending five minutes of my evening and some cell phone airtime to try to help someone.
Everyday realities like those experienced by my caller continually inflame the white trash extremists in our midst, friends. The folks who can't cope with the truth -- that they have fewer marketable skills than a 18 year old bilingual high school grad -- would rather blame the world for their problems and hide behind racist dogma. They'd rather seek legal redress for their "injury" then take positive action to make things better in their own lives. Ironically, it is these same extremists who accuse other racial groups of laziness and mooching off the government.
It's just easier to complain, call random attorneys out of the phone book, and get drunk.
She beat around the bush for a bit, then asked me whether the Texas Workforce Commission was illegally discriminating against her by suggesting she learn Spanish to help her get a receptionist position. The weary woman said she was 40 years old and couldn't learn Spanish tomorrow.
I sympathized with her frustration and told her I'm not a labor lawyer, but that if a job required a bilingual employee then her inability to speak Spanish seemed to be a legitimate reason to not hire her. Like a company not hiring a disabled person for a job requiring heavy lifting. I recollected that the employer had to make reasonable accomodations for disabled folks, but being monolingual is not a disability.
It took a few tries to convey the overall message to her.
"So basically you're saying you're with the illegals. Fuck you!"
Not exactly what I had in mind after spending five minutes of my evening and some cell phone airtime to try to help someone.
Everyday realities like those experienced by my caller continually inflame the white trash extremists in our midst, friends. The folks who can't cope with the truth -- that they have fewer marketable skills than a 18 year old bilingual high school grad -- would rather blame the world for their problems and hide behind racist dogma. They'd rather seek legal redress for their "injury" then take positive action to make things better in their own lives. Ironically, it is these same extremists who accuse other racial groups of laziness and mooching off the government.
It's just easier to complain, call random attorneys out of the phone book, and get drunk.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
The Special Relationship
Gordon Brown's ascension to the premiership of the United Kingdom wasn't just the end of the Tony Blair era -- it was a notable downturn in the "special relationship" between the U.S. and U.K.
Britons are understandably eager to separate themselves from the U.S. in general and George W. Bush in particular. The war in Iraq is even less popular in the U.K. than it is here, and the Blair government was unfairly seen as subservient to the U.S. Tony Blair's popularity in the U.S. wasn't just because he supported us in Iraq -- it was due to his own charisma and character, not to mention his effectiveness in international dialogue. Tony Blair smoothed over Bush's corn-pone attitude and intellectual shallowness. Even though Bush was over his head at G-4 summits and other key gatherings, Blair was like the wise college senior showing the energetic freshman the ropes.
The special relationship between our nations was then largely maintained by the special relationship between Bush and Blair, forged in the aftermath of 9/11. It was Blair alone that made the "coalition" of forces in Iraq more than a political label and transformed the war and occupation into something other than a unilateral U.S. policy decision.
With Gordon Brown in and Blair out, the bond between our nations has weakened, one hopes not critically. One suspects that British leaders will cast a doubtful eye on future joint foreign policy adventures. Our next president will have some serious fence-mending to do.
A significant number of ordinary Americans care deeply about the U.K. and hate to see the special relationship on the rocks. We know who our friends are. And we want to elect a president that makes a state visit to the U.K. with one simple message: "how can we help you?"
Britons are understandably eager to separate themselves from the U.S. in general and George W. Bush in particular. The war in Iraq is even less popular in the U.K. than it is here, and the Blair government was unfairly seen as subservient to the U.S. Tony Blair's popularity in the U.S. wasn't just because he supported us in Iraq -- it was due to his own charisma and character, not to mention his effectiveness in international dialogue. Tony Blair smoothed over Bush's corn-pone attitude and intellectual shallowness. Even though Bush was over his head at G-4 summits and other key gatherings, Blair was like the wise college senior showing the energetic freshman the ropes.
The special relationship between our nations was then largely maintained by the special relationship between Bush and Blair, forged in the aftermath of 9/11. It was Blair alone that made the "coalition" of forces in Iraq more than a political label and transformed the war and occupation into something other than a unilateral U.S. policy decision.
With Gordon Brown in and Blair out, the bond between our nations has weakened, one hopes not critically. One suspects that British leaders will cast a doubtful eye on future joint foreign policy adventures. Our next president will have some serious fence-mending to do.
A significant number of ordinary Americans care deeply about the U.K. and hate to see the special relationship on the rocks. We know who our friends are. And we want to elect a president that makes a state visit to the U.K. with one simple message: "how can we help you?"
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
The Police: Recapturing an Era
The return of The Police was probably the most anticipated rock reunion since The Eagles rejoined a few years ago, and not without good reason: The Police were one of a handful of influential bands (including Journey and U2) in the new wave/rock era of the late 70's and early 80s whose appeal was widespread. I have probably purchased all five Police albums three times apiece.
When the band went into its 25-year hiatus, I doubted it would reform. Sting clearly had creative needs that were not being met within the Police. So the question for me remained: why the reunion?
Aside from the financial windfall, which no doubt be greater than anything earned by Stewart Copeland and Andy Summers in the last ten years, one hoped the motivating factor for the tour was a love for their music and a desire to share it with their fans. After attending their concert last night, I left with the overall feeling that the purpose of the tour was, in large part, a celebration of their music and of their era.
Energy/Attitude of the Band: B
At the outset of the show, the band's energy level of the band was high and they were clearly eager to perform. Stewart and Andy, in particular, seemed almost grateful to the audience for the ovations and reponsiveness. However, the as the set was approximately 100 minutes long, the band started to tire during the second hour of the show. Stewart was drumming his ass off on a festooned drum kit and a nifty percussion stage while Andy kept up with technically difficult guitar parts with aplomb. A dip in energy levels is forgivable, considering their age and low levels of touring stamina after so many years on the shelf.
Sting, in terrific physical condition, was the least obviously tired of the band, yet at times he lacked the humility of his bandmates and I wasn't sure he really wanted to be there. At his best, Sting is melodic, relevant, and a charismatic stage presence. At his worst, Sting can be arrogant, aloof, and a bit of a lyrical and musical snob. In that latter mode, he fails to connect with the audience as deeply as his cohorts -- men who understand that a reunion concert tour is an emotional journey back in time. Sting's comments and exhortations to the audience had a scripted feel, creating further emotional separation from the audience. I suppose I was expecting the Sting that fronted The Police for the opening of the Academy Awards this year.
Performance: B+
The bandmembers' skill level has never been in doubt. At times, though, they were out of synch or simply weren't "tight." Whether due to rust or the newness of the arrangements, from time to time one of the band would look over to his mates for cues on getting back into the song.
The individual performances, however, were wonderful. Stewart was the most prepared and refined of the trio. He was also the most focused; reports of his perfectionist streak were not exaggerating. Andy had a very cool, understated presence on the guitar. He is possibly the least selfish guitarist of any major rock band. And Sting's voice was nearly perfect, though on a few occasions he sang at a lower octave. Still, he tried to reach the notes of his youth and hit them on all but one noticable ocassion. Sting's bass playing was solid and remains the most underrated of his many musical talents.
A few more weeks together on the road will doubtless improve the band's coherence as a unit.
Stage Presentation/Technical : B-
The stage itself was delightfully minimalist: a simple three-piece triangle formation with risers along the side and back. Above the stage (in their arena setup) was a bank of video screens. The stage lighting was simple but state-of-the-art; particularly innovative were column-mounted lights that could be independently raised and lowered.
This (by modern standards) bare presentation was refreshing and effective, were it not marred by poor sound levels (Andy's guitar and the backup vocals were barely audible at times) and the cheesy nature of the video selections played on the screens when the band themselves were not shown. During "Walking in Your Footsteps" giant dinosaur-bone feet "walked" along the screen; on other occasions, iconic images from the band's albums flashed whenever a particular song was played. During "Synchronicity II," for instance, the screen displayed the familiar red, yellow and blue paint slash. These touches were an unwelcome distraction from the otherwise minimalist staging.
Set List: A
The band played nearly all of their notable hits as well as a few interesting arrangements of lesser known gems like "Voices Inside My Head." Kicking off with "Message in a Bottle" got the arena jumping and set an energetic tone for the remainder of the show. "Walking On The Moon," always a personal favorite, was sharp and had a great, call-and-response with Sting.
Notably absent from the list were two hits from Ghost in the Machine: "Demolition Man" and "Spirits in the Material World." While both of those songs would probably have to be reworked to be performed live in a three-piece band, they were solid songs in their day that deserve a fresh life. Either one of those songs would have been better received than "Walking In Your Footsteps," but that's a small quibble.
Overall Grade: B+
A very good show that could be great with additional time playing together, refinements to the set list and technical sound issues, and a touch of heart and humility from Sting.
The Police will only go as far as Sting allows. It's clear now that while Andy and Stewart are having the time of their lives, Sting needs to recapture the mindset of the soulful songwriter of his early 20's and channel that somehow into his live performances.
When the band went into its 25-year hiatus, I doubted it would reform. Sting clearly had creative needs that were not being met within the Police. So the question for me remained: why the reunion?
Aside from the financial windfall, which no doubt be greater than anything earned by Stewart Copeland and Andy Summers in the last ten years, one hoped the motivating factor for the tour was a love for their music and a desire to share it with their fans. After attending their concert last night, I left with the overall feeling that the purpose of the tour was, in large part, a celebration of their music and of their era.
Energy/Attitude of the Band: B
At the outset of the show, the band's energy level of the band was high and they were clearly eager to perform. Stewart and Andy, in particular, seemed almost grateful to the audience for the ovations and reponsiveness. However, the as the set was approximately 100 minutes long, the band started to tire during the second hour of the show. Stewart was drumming his ass off on a festooned drum kit and a nifty percussion stage while Andy kept up with technically difficult guitar parts with aplomb. A dip in energy levels is forgivable, considering their age and low levels of touring stamina after so many years on the shelf.
Sting, in terrific physical condition, was the least obviously tired of the band, yet at times he lacked the humility of his bandmates and I wasn't sure he really wanted to be there. At his best, Sting is melodic, relevant, and a charismatic stage presence. At his worst, Sting can be arrogant, aloof, and a bit of a lyrical and musical snob. In that latter mode, he fails to connect with the audience as deeply as his cohorts -- men who understand that a reunion concert tour is an emotional journey back in time. Sting's comments and exhortations to the audience had a scripted feel, creating further emotional separation from the audience. I suppose I was expecting the Sting that fronted The Police for the opening of the Academy Awards this year.
Performance: B+
The bandmembers' skill level has never been in doubt. At times, though, they were out of synch or simply weren't "tight." Whether due to rust or the newness of the arrangements, from time to time one of the band would look over to his mates for cues on getting back into the song.
The individual performances, however, were wonderful. Stewart was the most prepared and refined of the trio. He was also the most focused; reports of his perfectionist streak were not exaggerating. Andy had a very cool, understated presence on the guitar. He is possibly the least selfish guitarist of any major rock band. And Sting's voice was nearly perfect, though on a few occasions he sang at a lower octave. Still, he tried to reach the notes of his youth and hit them on all but one noticable ocassion. Sting's bass playing was solid and remains the most underrated of his many musical talents.
A few more weeks together on the road will doubtless improve the band's coherence as a unit.
Stage Presentation/Technical : B-
The stage itself was delightfully minimalist: a simple three-piece triangle formation with risers along the side and back. Above the stage (in their arena setup) was a bank of video screens. The stage lighting was simple but state-of-the-art; particularly innovative were column-mounted lights that could be independently raised and lowered.
This (by modern standards) bare presentation was refreshing and effective, were it not marred by poor sound levels (Andy's guitar and the backup vocals were barely audible at times) and the cheesy nature of the video selections played on the screens when the band themselves were not shown. During "Walking in Your Footsteps" giant dinosaur-bone feet "walked" along the screen; on other occasions, iconic images from the band's albums flashed whenever a particular song was played. During "Synchronicity II," for instance, the screen displayed the familiar red, yellow and blue paint slash. These touches were an unwelcome distraction from the otherwise minimalist staging.
Set List: A
The band played nearly all of their notable hits as well as a few interesting arrangements of lesser known gems like "Voices Inside My Head." Kicking off with "Message in a Bottle" got the arena jumping and set an energetic tone for the remainder of the show. "Walking On The Moon," always a personal favorite, was sharp and had a great, call-and-response with Sting.
Notably absent from the list were two hits from Ghost in the Machine: "Demolition Man" and "Spirits in the Material World." While both of those songs would probably have to be reworked to be performed live in a three-piece band, they were solid songs in their day that deserve a fresh life. Either one of those songs would have been better received than "Walking In Your Footsteps," but that's a small quibble.
Overall Grade: B+
A very good show that could be great with additional time playing together, refinements to the set list and technical sound issues, and a touch of heart and humility from Sting.
The Police will only go as far as Sting allows. It's clear now that while Andy and Stewart are having the time of their lives, Sting needs to recapture the mindset of the soulful songwriter of his early 20's and channel that somehow into his live performances.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
True Crime
Not too long ago, my True Love and I were in the drive-through lane at Braum's (an ice cream & burger joint, for you non-Texans). While handing over her rocky road / mint chocolate chip calorific treat, I noticed something alarming in the parking lot of the seedy apartment complex that backed up to the store.
He was white, lanky, dirty, and young, possessed of chronic bed-head and a wispy beard. She was fat, string-haired and sweaty, her obesity lending her the unfortunate squinty-eyed look of a spring hog. She was trying to get away from him; he kept grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the apartment.
As nobody was doing anything about it, I pulled over. Lacking both a cell phone to call the police and a white horse to ride, I handed my vanilla cone to my True Love and fairly leapt out of my silver Honda. There was 50 feet and a collapsed chain-link fence between us.
I'm sure I yelled something akin to "unhand that woman, fiend!" or somesuch. His momentary surprise was soon replaced with a hangdog look and a muttered "mind your own business." She looked at me, then him, and appeared even more upset than before. Now she had both the domineering boyfriend and the embarrasing do-gooder to contend with. He still was manhandling her.
When I told him to let her go or the police would be notified, I was alerted to the presence of The Neighbor. Wearing the unstoppable wife-beater-undershirt-and-baggy-shorts combo, this Mexican-American parolee was the avatar of all things tattoo. "Leave my friend alone, man," he yelled at me. At me!
The Neighbor was not swayed by my pointing out that his lanky block-mate was in the process of abusing his significant other. That really had nothing to do with it. I was invading his turf. "I'm gonna get my gat, man," he concluded.
It was obvious that I was outmanuevered. With both the ice cream and my True Love melting in the car, I decided to leave. As we were pulling away, I had to resist the urge to floor it and run every red light home. My hands were shaking. It was then that my True Love told me that a "gat" was urban slang for a gun, as in "gatling gun," one presumes. That knowledge didn't exactly lighten my foot on the accelerator.
Once home, I called the police, feeling equal parts nimwit and coward, ashamed by the fear I'd felt and cursing myself that I'd escalated a bad situation.
No one said doing the right thing is easy, or even natural. Sometimes we stand up and get smacked back down. I'll never know whether the police found the abusive man or his ex-con defender. Moreover, I'll never know if the poor, fat woman got away or even appreciated my efforts. I might have even made things worse for her. I'm sure the police would say to call them first and leave it to them -- and they're right, of course.
I'm still torn by the urge to be a moral actor in the real world; yet the fearful reality can quickly bring one back to a myopic world-view focused on self-preservation. It's made me simultaneously, and paradoxically, both more vigilant and cautious. I'm trying to pick my battles a little better, too. A week or so after the Braumfrontation, I was over it and promised My True Love to avoid unneccessary future acts of derring-do.
But I still think about it when I pass that Braum's.
He was white, lanky, dirty, and young, possessed of chronic bed-head and a wispy beard. She was fat, string-haired and sweaty, her obesity lending her the unfortunate squinty-eyed look of a spring hog. She was trying to get away from him; he kept grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the apartment.
As nobody was doing anything about it, I pulled over. Lacking both a cell phone to call the police and a white horse to ride, I handed my vanilla cone to my True Love and fairly leapt out of my silver Honda. There was 50 feet and a collapsed chain-link fence between us.
I'm sure I yelled something akin to "unhand that woman, fiend!" or somesuch. His momentary surprise was soon replaced with a hangdog look and a muttered "mind your own business." She looked at me, then him, and appeared even more upset than before. Now she had both the domineering boyfriend and the embarrasing do-gooder to contend with. He still was manhandling her.
When I told him to let her go or the police would be notified, I was alerted to the presence of The Neighbor. Wearing the unstoppable wife-beater-undershirt-and-baggy-shorts combo, this Mexican-American parolee was the avatar of all things tattoo. "Leave my friend alone, man," he yelled at me. At me!
The Neighbor was not swayed by my pointing out that his lanky block-mate was in the process of abusing his significant other. That really had nothing to do with it. I was invading his turf. "I'm gonna get my gat, man," he concluded.
It was obvious that I was outmanuevered. With both the ice cream and my True Love melting in the car, I decided to leave. As we were pulling away, I had to resist the urge to floor it and run every red light home. My hands were shaking. It was then that my True Love told me that a "gat" was urban slang for a gun, as in "gatling gun," one presumes. That knowledge didn't exactly lighten my foot on the accelerator.
Once home, I called the police, feeling equal parts nimwit and coward, ashamed by the fear I'd felt and cursing myself that I'd escalated a bad situation.
No one said doing the right thing is easy, or even natural. Sometimes we stand up and get smacked back down. I'll never know whether the police found the abusive man or his ex-con defender. Moreover, I'll never know if the poor, fat woman got away or even appreciated my efforts. I might have even made things worse for her. I'm sure the police would say to call them first and leave it to them -- and they're right, of course.
I'm still torn by the urge to be a moral actor in the real world; yet the fearful reality can quickly bring one back to a myopic world-view focused on self-preservation. It's made me simultaneously, and paradoxically, both more vigilant and cautious. I'm trying to pick my battles a little better, too. A week or so after the Braumfrontation, I was over it and promised My True Love to avoid unneccessary future acts of derring-do.
But I still think about it when I pass that Braum's.
Get Some Gene Therapy!
Having trouble with your career, love life, or just pondering the meaning of it all? Let's talk about it. Send your questions or concerns to me at mygenetherapy@gmail.com.
-- Gene
This is not a solicitation to render legal services to anyone. Any opinions given herein are for informational purposes and are not legal advice. You should consult with a competent attorney in your area if you have questions on legal matters.
-- Gene
This is not a solicitation to render legal services to anyone. Any opinions given herein are for informational purposes and are not legal advice. You should consult with a competent attorney in your area if you have questions on legal matters.
Why The Sopranos Finale Failed
Tony arrives at the diner, entering with a puzzled look on his face -- he has an out-of-body experience as he sees himself in a booth. One by one, patrons enter, each suggestive of Tony's possible doom and yet also evoking quintessential Americana. Each time they enter, the bell on the door rings and Tony looks up -- is it anticipation or fear on his face? Carmela, then A.J. join him at the table. A.J. is preceded by a man of Italian descent who sits at the bar and looks over at Tony. Is that a look of menace or an idle glance? Meadow is running late and is maddeningly unable to parallel-park her car. A.J. reminds Tony that we should remember the good times. The man at the bar gets up and passes Tony on his way to the men's room. Meadow jogs across the street to the diner. The doorbell rings and Tony looks up.
And then the Darkness.
Within minutes of the conclusion, the Internet was flooded with posts on message boards and discussion forums. Most of the initial reaction was poor, and the frustration, confusion, and disappointment was palpable. Viewers nationwide offered theories and vented on two topics: the meaning of the ending, and whether the ending was satisfactory. These topics are inextricably intertwined.
Did life go on for Tony and his family? Was Tony suddenly killed? Or, as some shrewd viewers suggested, were we killed in the sudden darkness?
The Non-Ending
The silver lining is that we must struggle with the meaning of the ending no longer. After the airing of the final episode, creator/writer/director David Chase has stated (at http://www.nj.com/) that he won’t comment on the meaning of the ending, but that he’ll “never say never” to a Sopranos movie. Ponder that for a moment.
Since Chase has kept his foot in the door for a potential future Sopranos vehicle, the final episode must be viewed as a non-ending. An intentional non-ending. We’ll never know whether life goes on for Tony and his family, or whether the mysterious “Man in Members Only Jacket” kills Tony after emerging, a la Michael Corleone, from the men’s room. Chase doesn’t know either, or if he does know, he isn’t telling.
We must therefore conclude that The Sopranos' non-ending was written (1) as a cop-out to avoid writing an ending (2) because Chase had a creative block and couldn't conceive an appropriate ending (3) out of protectiveness of his future income stream, to keep his options open, or (4) intentionally and most shockingly, that he actually thought the non-ending was the best ending.
Some say (http://paullevinson.blogspot.com/2007/06/sopranos-end-and-closure-junkies.html) that he was none of these things in choosing his ending; rather, Chase’s non-closure ending represents creative license. Doesn’t Chase have the right to buck convention and pen his own finale? After all, we as viewers cannot and should not have a leash on the artist's Muse.
But we, as viewers, have a right to expect some dramatic resolution of the main character’s story. If we didn’t care about the story enough to want a conclusion of some sort, would we have patiently stayed to the end of a 10-year, frequently-on-hiatus television series? While we appreciated his artistic talents, we did not just tune in to be awed by David Chase’s technical work product; we were watching to see what happened next. If an artist cloaks himself as a storyteller, he shouldn’t be surprised when we howl that a story was not told.
It’s true that consumers of any creative product subordinate themselves, willingly, to the whims of the artist. A fan of The Sopranos is, consciously or not, a fan of David Chase. We buy into the creative output of the artist because we are fascinated, entertained, and enlightened -- and thereby allow ourselves to care about the art itself. When that art is a storytelling medium, it’s reasonable for the audience to expect that something important to the main characters will be resolved.
Chase’s non-ending has also been defended on the grounds that The Sopranos was never intended to tell a story, per se, but was rather a peek inside the New Jersey mob scene. If that explanation is really the sole reason for the show's existence, then the show was nothing more than a fictional documentary. Given that Chase himself comes from a background of writing for dramatic crime television (The Rockford Files, in particular), he surely understands that a skilled writer can evoke a world and its inhabitants, place the audience in that world, and tell a story at the same time. One doesn’t have to read too much great literature (Dickens’ Bleak House and The Lord of the Rings by Tolkein come to mind) to recognize that true Art is evocative while delivering dramatic storytelling for the reader. It’s hard to imagine David Chase not viewing himself as equal parts storyteller and artiste.
Lastly, it could be argued that Chase should follow his Muse, regardless of the outcome -- that to provide a true ending, Chase would have to surrender his creative vision. Setting aside the author's responsibility to his audience for a moment, it's not hard to imagine an ending that incorporated all of the elements of the final scene. Indeed, a final shot of Meadow’s demeanor as she entered the diner would have told whether it was a tragic end for Tony or that life as they knew it would continue. All of the tension would have dramatic release.
Chase's Exploitative Use of Tension
Tension was built and sustained in the final scene by two things: the skillful use of banal dialogue and camera shots (e.g., Meadow parallel-parking her car), and, critically, our knowledge that this was the final episode. Had this been any other episode, there would be no tension, and we would all be scratching our heads about the time spent on such humdrum matters. Therefore, the tension in the scene is at mostly artificial and external to the show itself, relying on Chase’s manipulation of the viewer who knows he is viewing the final episode and is anxiously expecting a conclusion.
The creation of tension without dramatic release is simply a build-up for the sake of itself. Using the viewer’s state of mind to deliver a surprise is a hallmark of clever filmmaking. But used in this manner, it is a cheap trick and is exploitative. Yes, the non-ending was a surprise -- but not a dramatic surprise in the context of the story. It was Chase reaching out and throttling the viewer's own expectations. This is meta-art; art designed to make us question the role of art and our relationship to it. As such, it takes us completely out of the characters and plot and takes us into this discussion. If this was Chase's intention, we should applaud him -- but not at the expense of fulfilling his most basic duty, to tell a story.
It is Chase's specific use of tension in the final scene that distinguishes it from “interpretive” art. Da Vinci does not build up tension when we view the Mona Lisa and ponder the meaning of that enigmatic smile. He simply painted the masterpiece. Stockton, in “The Lady, or the Tiger” did not build up tension over ten years of serial television when he leaves the short story reader dangling over a young man’s fate. Moreover, the finale cannot be viewed as an interpretive ending because by considering a future Sopranos vehicle, Chase is not asking us to guess the ending -- he's expressly telling us he kept all his options open, that there is no ending.
Cut to Black
Chase couldn't make everyone happy in the final episode. Those who wanted Tony's death, or life, would be disappointed if the opposite result occurred. But in writing the non-ending, he failed his audience and, indeed, exploited them for the sake of his vanity and creative cowardice.
And then the Darkness.
Within minutes of the conclusion, the Internet was flooded with posts on message boards and discussion forums. Most of the initial reaction was poor, and the frustration, confusion, and disappointment was palpable. Viewers nationwide offered theories and vented on two topics: the meaning of the ending, and whether the ending was satisfactory. These topics are inextricably intertwined.
Did life go on for Tony and his family? Was Tony suddenly killed? Or, as some shrewd viewers suggested, were we killed in the sudden darkness?
The Non-Ending
The silver lining is that we must struggle with the meaning of the ending no longer. After the airing of the final episode, creator/writer/director David Chase has stated (at http://www.nj.com/) that he won’t comment on the meaning of the ending, but that he’ll “never say never” to a Sopranos movie. Ponder that for a moment.
Since Chase has kept his foot in the door for a potential future Sopranos vehicle, the final episode must be viewed as a non-ending. An intentional non-ending. We’ll never know whether life goes on for Tony and his family, or whether the mysterious “Man in Members Only Jacket” kills Tony after emerging, a la Michael Corleone, from the men’s room. Chase doesn’t know either, or if he does know, he isn’t telling.
We must therefore conclude that The Sopranos' non-ending was written (1) as a cop-out to avoid writing an ending (2) because Chase had a creative block and couldn't conceive an appropriate ending (3) out of protectiveness of his future income stream, to keep his options open, or (4) intentionally and most shockingly, that he actually thought the non-ending was the best ending.
Some say (http://paullevinson.blogspot.com/2007/06/sopranos-end-and-closure-junkies.html) that he was none of these things in choosing his ending; rather, Chase’s non-closure ending represents creative license. Doesn’t Chase have the right to buck convention and pen his own finale? After all, we as viewers cannot and should not have a leash on the artist's Muse.
But we, as viewers, have a right to expect some dramatic resolution of the main character’s story. If we didn’t care about the story enough to want a conclusion of some sort, would we have patiently stayed to the end of a 10-year, frequently-on-hiatus television series? While we appreciated his artistic talents, we did not just tune in to be awed by David Chase’s technical work product; we were watching to see what happened next. If an artist cloaks himself as a storyteller, he shouldn’t be surprised when we howl that a story was not told.
It’s true that consumers of any creative product subordinate themselves, willingly, to the whims of the artist. A fan of The Sopranos is, consciously or not, a fan of David Chase. We buy into the creative output of the artist because we are fascinated, entertained, and enlightened -- and thereby allow ourselves to care about the art itself. When that art is a storytelling medium, it’s reasonable for the audience to expect that something important to the main characters will be resolved.
Chase’s non-ending has also been defended on the grounds that The Sopranos was never intended to tell a story, per se, but was rather a peek inside the New Jersey mob scene. If that explanation is really the sole reason for the show's existence, then the show was nothing more than a fictional documentary. Given that Chase himself comes from a background of writing for dramatic crime television (The Rockford Files, in particular), he surely understands that a skilled writer can evoke a world and its inhabitants, place the audience in that world, and tell a story at the same time. One doesn’t have to read too much great literature (Dickens’ Bleak House and The Lord of the Rings by Tolkein come to mind) to recognize that true Art is evocative while delivering dramatic storytelling for the reader. It’s hard to imagine David Chase not viewing himself as equal parts storyteller and artiste.
Lastly, it could be argued that Chase should follow his Muse, regardless of the outcome -- that to provide a true ending, Chase would have to surrender his creative vision. Setting aside the author's responsibility to his audience for a moment, it's not hard to imagine an ending that incorporated all of the elements of the final scene. Indeed, a final shot of Meadow’s demeanor as she entered the diner would have told whether it was a tragic end for Tony or that life as they knew it would continue. All of the tension would have dramatic release.
Chase's Exploitative Use of Tension
Tension was built and sustained in the final scene by two things: the skillful use of banal dialogue and camera shots (e.g., Meadow parallel-parking her car), and, critically, our knowledge that this was the final episode. Had this been any other episode, there would be no tension, and we would all be scratching our heads about the time spent on such humdrum matters. Therefore, the tension in the scene is at mostly artificial and external to the show itself, relying on Chase’s manipulation of the viewer who knows he is viewing the final episode and is anxiously expecting a conclusion.
The creation of tension without dramatic release is simply a build-up for the sake of itself. Using the viewer’s state of mind to deliver a surprise is a hallmark of clever filmmaking. But used in this manner, it is a cheap trick and is exploitative. Yes, the non-ending was a surprise -- but not a dramatic surprise in the context of the story. It was Chase reaching out and throttling the viewer's own expectations. This is meta-art; art designed to make us question the role of art and our relationship to it. As such, it takes us completely out of the characters and plot and takes us into this discussion. If this was Chase's intention, we should applaud him -- but not at the expense of fulfilling his most basic duty, to tell a story.
It is Chase's specific use of tension in the final scene that distinguishes it from “interpretive” art. Da Vinci does not build up tension when we view the Mona Lisa and ponder the meaning of that enigmatic smile. He simply painted the masterpiece. Stockton, in “The Lady, or the Tiger” did not build up tension over ten years of serial television when he leaves the short story reader dangling over a young man’s fate. Moreover, the finale cannot be viewed as an interpretive ending because by considering a future Sopranos vehicle, Chase is not asking us to guess the ending -- he's expressly telling us he kept all his options open, that there is no ending.
Cut to Black
Chase couldn't make everyone happy in the final episode. Those who wanted Tony's death, or life, would be disappointed if the opposite result occurred. But in writing the non-ending, he failed his audience and, indeed, exploited them for the sake of his vanity and creative cowardice.
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