Chocolate baby!

Here we go again. It’s Monday and I’m beat from a weekend of chain-gang style labor in my yard, but it’s a tired with a great sense of satisfaction. There is so much more to do, but it will have to wait.

So I have to say a bit about the New Orleans Mayoral race. Much like the rest of the country, I was shocked that Ray Nagin not only won, but by a fair amount over his opponent. I say shocked because for a while I was placing faith in a place I had no business placing it, in the ability of people to open their eyes and recognize truth. Even with his ‘constituency’ largely still sponging off of other people in other cities, Nagin was able to pull himself up and maintain his grip on the lives of those trying to rebuild the Big Easy.

Just so we’re clear on this: I don’t hate Ray Nagin. I don’t think he’s an evil man. But I do recognize that he’s largely inept when it comes to leading a city; and by that I mean he’s got the blood of thousands on his hands. His mistakes during Katrina put him in the hot seat on the national stage, and allowed him to show his true colors. When pushed, the once successful cable television executive drew himself up and delivered a diatribe that would have cost any white man his political career.

Still unapologetic, he smirks and banters with reporters, the veritable cat that ate the canary. But now he’s had a taste of fame, national fame, and that’s a drug not easily kicked. In other words I expect we’ll all be hearing much more from the newly re-elected mayor of New Orleans.

I also wanted to highlight for you a bit of his outlook on those he chooses to lead. When asked what he would do if the business owners in New Orleans who threatened to move away if he was re-elected made good on their promise, he said this:

"Business people are predators. If the economic opportunities are here, they're going to stay. If not, they're going to leave," he said. "God bless 'em,

Now, isn’t that a great start to another term as mayor? Your city is in rags, few have returned to rebuild, and you begin your term by calling those who’s taxes pay for your private car ‘predators’ and say that you don’t care if businesses leave your city. If this is, in fact, his true outlook, I predict dire times for not just the 9th ward, but the whole of the Crescent City.

I’m just glad I had a chance to see it before he began destroying it.

Tune in and listen...

Today I’m going to keep it light since it should be “Good Life Friday”. This weekend shows promise as I get to do another full day in the yard, clipping, cutting, burning and catching time in my new hammock when I can. Sunday I get to participate in what is arguably the strangest yet most addictive wastes of time invented…golf.

I’m no golfer, but I do enjoy swinging clubs and crushing golf balls off the tee, no matter which direction they go. Whit’s company is having their spring picnic and they do a golf outing before hand, so I’ll be sucking up a blue streak in front of all her piers. What could be better on a Sunday afternoon than embarrassing yourself in front of all your wife’s co-workers.

Ok, back to the good stuff. Today I want to talk classical music. As a child I was exposed by my parents to two types of music that have shaped my life in more ways than I can count. Classical and Jazz. My father is the culprit here, having seen many of the legends of jazz live in concert in Atlanta in the 40’s, he began plying my ears with Ella Fitzgerald, Stan Getz, Charlie Parker, Louis Armstrong, George Gershwin, Monk, Goodman, Ellington, Coltrane, Herman and so many more that it would be pointless to list them, but you get the point.

In much the same way he exposed me to the great classical (and modern) composers. Bach, Brahms, Mozart, Handel, etc. I always listened to classical while I did my homework because it calmed my ever racing brain and relaxed me into a state of well being that I still find while listening. In time I began looking for more music, expanding my own horizons into more modern orchestral areas. This brought Grofe’, Prokofiev, Copeland, Dvorak, Shostakovich and other hard to spell names….But seriously, by the time I was 11 and choosing an instrument to play in band, these two types of music had shaped me to such an extent that the choice was already made. I began playing the saxophone in 5th grade and play it to this day (though not as much jazz as I’d like). I also picked up the drums, the clarinet, piano, and to this day I fail miserably at the guitar. But I love to play, no matter how bad I am, it always brings me peace.

I can honestly say that music is responsible for my life’s direction, and much of the happiness I’ve known. Being a part of a musical group has allowed me to see places and be a part of events that I otherwise would never have been able to even see on TV.

So today’s Good Life is dedicated to music. I hope that you all are able to find the peace and happiness in music that I find. Below I’m listing a few of my all time favorites, the songs that really take hold of me and don’t let go until the last note fades into ether…

My all time favorite:
Appalachian Spring, by Aaron Copeland. (I like the Leonard Bernstein recording best) This song puts me into a trance like state from which its nearly impossible to wake, but I listen to it constantly and have since my teens. The last three minutes are the most beautiful requiem to a piece of music I’ve ever heard… worthy of tears.

The Planets by Gustav Holst. I love this music because it’s raw, powerful, and narrative. In writing this suite, Holst made movie music before movies really had music. The powerful use of the low brass and strings is a punch in the chin that makes me (nerd I know) crank the volume every time Mars comes up.

Fanfare for the Common Man by Aaron Copeland. I know, I’m stuck on Copeland, but he is my favorite after all. Fanfare is one of those pieces that puts very distinct images into my head. It reminds me of the first time I saw the monument to Iwo Jima in Washington D.C. I was 13 years old, and appropriately in D.C. on a band trip. We were visiting Arlington that day and seeing the Vietnam Wall and other war monuments. I walked off by myself (because that’s what I do) and wandered up upon the statue of those men raising the flag on Mt. Suribachi. I had a mix tape in my walkman that just so happened to have Fanfare on it. Well, it was like something out of a movie. It was dark, the spotlights were shining on the monument, I’m all by me onesee listening to Fanfare for the Common Man, staring at this statue of soldiers hoisting the American Flag together. I think I must have just stared at the thing for over an hour. Up to that point I wasn’t very patriotic, never thought about politics, the military, and precious little about our country’s history. That began to change that night. To this day whenever I hear that piece of music I picture soldiers, doing what they do. If that’s all the song makes me think about, then that’s enough.

Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin. This guy played rock and roll piano before it was invented. This piece is bright lights – big city combined with classical orchestration that reels like a roller coaster. Short, quiet hills followed by big, roaring down-hills with piano and horn runs that leave you dizzy (especially if you play and know how difficult some of them are at speed)

Ode to Joy by Beethoven. This piece is just classic. Pure sound, big and full. We played this at our wedding as we were walking out…it just fit.

Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber. This piece is one of those that stops you in your tracks if you’re moving, and hypnotizes you if you aren’t. I love this piece because it illustrates the power of the human voice to create music unlike any instrument man can create. I had the pleasure of hearing this piece played by a large orchestra (about 67 pieces) many of whom are in the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. A church we attended had a musical program in their main sanctuary and had many of its members who played orchestral instruments provide the music. They also had their full choir on hand (about 120 people) For a little background, this is the single largest Presbyterian congregation in the country. The Sanctuary is huge, and acoustically wonderful. We were lucky enough to get seats about 7 rows back from the stage. I was excited to hear this piece live but I had no idea what I was in for. For those of you who are familiar with the work you’ll understand my description. The lights were slightly dimmed and the air was thick and quiet. The conductor raised his baton and ever so slightly nudged it forward and down, so slowly that it probably wasn’t perceptible from more than 15 rows back. With this began what is my favorite thing about live classical music: The violins slowly pulling the first notes of the piece from the strings. For those of you who have never heard this live and close up, it almost sounds like breath. Soft and airy, pure in tone and shuddering just a bit so that it really does resemble a whisper. Multiply that by about 25 and you have the strings playing these first notes. I can’t even describe what the sound did in that church, but it was ethereal. By the end of the piece even the small children in the crowd were dead silent and still. Knowing what his group had accomplished, the conductor held the last note until it simply drained away into silence, and held his baton up for another 10 or 15 seconds after, just to keep the crowd in thrall. It took him lowering his arms, turning towards the crowd and nodding his head for anyone to dare clap and break that silence. After that there was about a 5 minute standing ovation…and that was just the first song.

Ok, well, I’ve written a small novel and haven’t even scratched the surface of the jazz side of my picks, so I’ll leave that for tomorrow. Until then I wish you all happy listening.

Capt.

Burnin' down the house...

Ok, so I found something to comment on in the news today. It’s a local thing but it’s far reaching as far as U.S. politics go, so I’m sure you’ll all know the key players in this one.

From this article in the AJC:

Former Democratic State Representative Wyc Orr (no that’s not an abbreviation, that’s his name) is recommending that Zell Miller be kicked out of the Democratic party on account of his ‘shilling’ for Republicans at present and for the last few years. While I understand his position and truly feel for his pain (can’t you see the tears?) I think he’s missing a great big fat hairy point here, and he’s not alone.

For years now the denizens of the Democratic party have been leaning hard on the helm, steering their party ever left of center, ever farther away from the will and want of hard working Americans. Much like his party, Mr. Orr is sitting at his desk with his hands over his ears, yelling “la la la la la I CAN’T HEAR YOU” with his eyes firmly shut, hoping the voices of reason will just cease altogether…voices like Zell Miller’s.

Having grown up in Georgia I was in what you might call my formative years when Zell was the governor of our fine state, and an ardent Democrat to boot. He was adept at the game, moving here and there on issues, getting the ones he really wanted pushed through whether they were in the people’s best interest or not. He was so good at this he even garnered himself a nick-name: Zig-Zag-Zell. I remember my father listening to him on the news and rolling his eyes, telling me that I needed to go to school and read as much as I could every day so that people like him couldn’t fool me with their lies. Well, I’ve tried to take that message to heart, and apparently so has Zell.

Ever since 911 the country has polarized as never before. While it was fashionable and politically necessary, even the hardest leftists raised their hands and joined in the battle cry to put down this new threat. And then, as expected, they began to peal off a few at a time, looking for ways to further their own agendas by undermining the efforts of those who fought and fight for our freedom and protection. Much to his credit, Zell Miller recognized this and took umbrage…publicly. In 2004 he gave his own party members a tongue lashing at the Republican National Convention that raised the eyebrows of many on both sides. Suddenly in the media at large Zell was no longer the respected elder statesman of the Democratic Party, he was a crotchety old fart, spewing bitter rage and senility.

This surprised no one who understands the left’s tactics when it comes to media manipulation. When you are of use you’re held up on a pillar and showered with praise…when you aren’t of use or *gasp* even dare to speak against them you’re dragged through the mud by any means available. For the last 6 years the Democratic party has made an art out of discrediting its detractors. Any party that can blast a sitting President for liberating a tortured people from a mass murdering dictator while simultaneously white washing their last President’s debouched double term should stick with show biz and leave out the politics, they’d go further.

What Mr. Orr and millions like him might want to try is listening for a while. When one of your own stands in front of your house and tells you its on fire, even if you don’t smell the smoke, you should probably check to make sure before you call him an idiot. If you’re right, then no harm done, but if you’re wrong, and you failed to listen, then you burn…


Burn baby burn….

Well looky here...

Well it’s about time. I can’t remember the last time any arm of the main stream media reported on good news on the front page (well, the headline on the internet page anyway). This morning’s happy surprise was brought to us by none other than the good ‘ole staple of southern liberal living: the AJC (That’s Atlanta Journal and Constitution for those not in Ga.)

This story is close to my heart for many reasons, one of which is that I live just a few miles from the high school that these boys attend. Since the AJC online requires a registration, I’ll copy the important parts…

It was nearly dusk on Florida's San Destin Beach, with red flags warning of rip currents, when a woman approached three Centennial High School seniors and asked them to help her boys get back to shore.

The young men, Kyle DeLapp, Steven Gartner and Hooman Nourparvar, all 17, were playing Frisbee on the beach on the first Saturday in April as part of a spring break trip. They looked out beyond the breaking waves and saw four kids, three boys and a girl ages 9 to 12, according to interviews.
Although they had not planned to swim that day because of the warning flags, the Centennial classmates stepped into the water without a thought to the danger they were walking into. Two of them, DeLapp and Nourparvar, had training in water safety.

As the three teens walked toward the kids in the cold, choppy water, they discovered a steep drop-off just as they reached them. The younger children had begun to scream for help. The older boys realized the rip current was quickly sweeping them all out to sea.

Doesn’t it do your hearts good to know that there is still courage and self sacrifice in teenagers these days? Let’s put the scene together so you can see what I’m seeing:

This is dusk on a beach where people (except three brilliant little kids) are not swimming because of rip tide warnings. I’ve been to Sandestin many times and I know the currents there are nasty. And when the currents are nasty the wind usually is too. So you’ve got a beach with not a lot of people, sketchy lighting and weather, and three high school kids playing frisbee. Why am I pointing this out? Because it illustrates just what happened on that beach. The three boys were asked to help, to put themselves in a very dangerous situation, and did so without thought. There were no bikini clad hotties looking on to pump up their need to perform stupid and dangerous stunts, there were no cameras to record their deeds and make them famous for 15 minutes, it was just one scared mother, asking for help.

Anyone living on this end of the country (and I’m sure in other places as well) who goes to the beach is familiar with the concept of a ‘rip tide’ or current. They get particularly nasty with spring and fall tides in the Gulf and have the ability to sweep hundreds of people five miles out to sea in a matter of minutes. So these boys probably knew what waited for them in that water, but they went anyway.

Sheesh, doesn’t it sound like I’m sycophantically waving my arms here? Maybe I am, but I’ve been in these situations before, several times actually, and I’m just impressed that there are still some kids left in this generation who have the stones to act when called upon.

Maybe there is hope for America’s future yet.

Off we go...

Well, I'm weighing anchor and heading south for the week to attend the hitchin' of some dear friends in Key West.

Pictures and descriptions to follow...


As you were.


Captain.