Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Rock-tober: Day 2

In the late 80's you would only find a few cassette tapes in my car, and Whitesnake's self titled album was one of them. This release was chock full of great tracks, but by far my favorite was "Here I Go Again". When I first heard the opening lyrics, "I don't know where I'm going, but I sure know where I've been." I was thinking "Holy crap, this song was written for me. Why, this could be my personal anthem." Pfft. Silly teenager, you have no frackin' clue. A few decades later, the lyrics still resonate, just without all the teenage angst.

Oh, and the video didn't hurt either.




Shortly after we got the '67, I was watching this vid when Andrea was in the room.
"Hey, Andrea, check this out. We could probably..."
"No."
"Wait, it would be pretty cool if..."
"No."
"Seriously, just a few shots is all..."
"No."

She was a good sport about it.


Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Rock-tober: Day 1

A few years ago, Andrea and I invited another couple over for dinner on Valentine's Day. Andrea was in charge of the menu and I was responsible for the evening's music selection. Drawing on my vast collection, I tried to craft a playlist that featured the softer, romantic side of rock and roll. The finished product was dubbed simply "Valentine's Day Mix", and this was track #1.

At dinner the first course was set, and the wine was being poured. "Hey, Hon, how about starting the music?" asked Andrea. With a knowing smile I hit "play" on the remote with the system cranked to 11. Our female guest jumped out of her chair, hands up ready to fend of some attack. With an utterly confused look on her face, she looks quizzically at me, then at Andrea, then back at me. "Wait. What? That can't be right. What?"

Meanwhile, Andrea's head was in her hands and she was muttering something along the lines of "Oh my word..."

But dude and I were high-fiving and fist bumping the rest of the night.




Monday, September 30, 2013

Brace Yourselves....Rock-tober Is Here!

Sooo.....with today being the 30th and the last day of September, tomorrow starts that month long celebration known as Rock-tober!

Never heard of it? That does not bode well for your street cred. Here's the story. Back in college, the classic rock stations I tuned to showcased a different artist every day of the month during October. It was awesome when ZZ Top was in the spotlight, but a downer when the Doors (never did get them) had their day. This was one of my annoyances. I didn't always dig the day's selection and wished I could stack the playlist in my favor. Fast forward a decade and a half (...maybe 2) and here we are. Since I've been waxing nostalgic of late I've decided reprise this fall tradition of my youth. Starting tomorrow, and continuing for the entire month, I'll regale you with my favorite song from a different artist each day.

Some ground rules:

  1. This is my list. If you disagree, make your own bloody list. If I wanted universal appeal, I'd post pictures of kittens.
  2. If it was released past 1989, stop looking. It ain't on this list - we're going old school here.
  3. An artist can only make the list once. No repeats. No exceptions.
With that, buckle up and enjoy the ride.


Sunday, June 16, 2013

My Tree

In the movie "Braveheart", there's a crazy Irishman who claims the entire land mass of Ireland as "my Island". Well, I claim this Y-shaped oak tree standing at the end of Island View Avenue in Long Beach, Mississippi, as "my Oak Tree". When my family moved to Long Beach in 1980, Dad pointed it out on one of our first trips into town as we turned onto Island View from Beach Boulevard (Highway 90 to locals). He told me it was my landmark. Even if it was dark or if I missed street signs, when I saw that Oak Tree, I knew I was almost home.

When I would come home from college, a lot of times I'd take the beach route intentionally just so I could pass by my Tree. Now that I live halfway across the country, passing by my Tree on the way to the house is a ritual. Since Dad's death, on every trip home there are two places I go by myself. Biloxi National Cemetery is one; this corner of Island View is the other.

I have no idea how old my Tree is. I just know it was here way before me, and I hope it'll be around long after I'm gone. It survived Hurricanes Camille, Frederic, Elena, and thankfully Katrina. After the 2005 monster storm, I drove home with supplies to help out family and friends. After making sure everyone was safe, I anxiously waited for the National Guard to lift restrictions on access to the beach - I wanted to make sure my Tree was still standing. It wasn't until a subsequent trip home that I was actually able to get to the end of Island View and see that, indeed, my Tree had weathered yet another storm. Traffic on Beach Highway must have thought I was some environmentalist freak as I actually hugged the Tree.

And I found Dad was right, yet again:
For a while after Katrina, there were no man made structures along Beach Boulevard, no familiar buildings, no street signs. Navigating along the beach was a frustration even for life long residents. However, as soon as I saw my Oak Tree, I knew I could relax. It was my landmark. I was almost home.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

The Bootlegger

Here are the facts. Hyman Strachman is 92 years old. He's a WWII Pacific Theater combat veteran. He is a widower whose bride of more than 50 years died in 2003. He is considered a folk hero to the current generation of soldiers serving in Afghanistan. He's also in danger of felony bootlegging charges, a 6 year prison sentence, and $250,000+ in fines.

Inspired by soldiers' requests for movie DVDs, "Big Hy", as he's known, burned and shipped hundreds of thousands of new release movie titles overseas to the troops free of charge. Well....not exactly free. Those blank DVDs, professional multi disc burners, even the shipping costs were borne by Hyman himself to the estimated tune of $30,000.

Big Hy didn't count this cost, however. The walls of his home are adorned with pictures, letters, and other mementos from the troops who've been recipients of his shipments of unique Americana and reminders of home. These soldiers' "Thank You's" appear to be the only thing he'll take as payment for his efforts. There's a feeling of kinship known only among those who've been separated from home and family and know the bleakness of a battle field. This bond apparently transcends generations. Big Hy felt this bond with his brothers in arms in Afghanistan and wanted to do "something", so he did.

These are the facts. Hyman Strachman has run afoul of copyright infringement and anti piracy laws. He's admitted his guilt. He knows the penalties. He did it anyway. In this public forum (and with a pending security investigation) I cannot condone his actions. What he did and is doing is wrong.

However, with insurmountable evidence and an eight year window of activity, no one in the Department of Justice, the US military, the US Postal Service, and most tellingly in the MPAA has moved to press charges against Big Hy.

Sources:
April 26, 2012 Article by Alan Schwarz, "The New York Times"

Lawyers.com: Penalty For Selling Bootleg Movies

EHow.com: Federal Penalties for Pirating Movies


Sunday, August 7, 2011

My History of Music Technology

I have my favorite music, and like most folks, I like to have that music around me as much as possible. In my family, during the 70's, this started as LP's and 45's that I "borrowed" from my folks and played on my own turntable. Since these albums belonged to my parents I was pretty much stuck listening to their musical tastes. (I still have a fondness for Marty Robbins and Roger Whittaker, much to Andrea's chagrin.)

A few years later, I remember packing 8-tracks when the family would take long road trips. I was no longer constrained to what was playing on the radio, a virtual Godsend on the back roads of Nebraska. Personal music collections became highly portable, at least by 70's standards. I still remember cruising through the American Heartland with "Brickhouse" by the Commodores blasting from the tinny speakers of our Ford Econoline van. (As a kid, it was just a cool sounding song. When I actually listened to the lyrics years later as an adult, I wondered if Mom and Dad were feeling awkward at the time.)

An interesting property of 8-tracks was the tape player could loop the tape. So, unlike vinyl that you had to flip from side to side, the 8-track innovation allowed you to listen to an entire album, on repeat, ad nauseam until you literally wore out the tape. Yup. Eight-tracks were cool, but they were still clunky.

Technology marched on to the next milestone: the smaller form factor of the "Compact Cassette." I believe the cassette's biggest cool factor was, along with an affordable tape recorder, it allowed Joe Public to record his own music. Ripped from the record player, radio, or some other source, you could compile a cassette of your favorite artist's songs or, if you were thinking outside the box, different songs, artists, and genres (whoa!). For the first time ever, "El Paso City" by Robbins could be followed immediately by "Texas Women" by Bocephus.

This capability began the tradition known to all teens of that time of "making a tape." This creation gave voice to your angst du jour to share with peers of like mind, or, as demonstrated by John Cusack in his early flicks, to express feelings for that special someone you admired from afar.

The reign of the cassette lasted for years as it increased in capacity and fidelity. "Is it live or is it Memorex?" Other technologies were spawned: you were the 80's version of "the shiznit" if you owned a Walkman. However, cassettes still had an Achilles Heel. Tape players loved to eat them.

Enter the CD. CD players let you skip and/or repeat tracks easily, and play them in any bloody order you wished. Compared to cassettes, these silvery drink coasters were also darned near indestructible. Tack on the ability to record to them (double whoa!) and you're well on the way to kissing your radio good bye. How could you possibly improve on this?

Well, along comes the MP3 player that can do everything a CD player can do, only faster, easier, and with capacity out the wazoo. I've got our entire CD collection on a single device where I can access every artist and track from Bach to ZZ Top and Willie Nelson to Whitesnake. All this on a gizmo that I can fit into my pocket. This, my friends, is music junkie Nirvana! Surely we've reached the pinnacle. Could it ever, possibly get any better? You betcha! But...that's another post....

Sunday, February 6, 2011

I've Coined a New Term

I was once trying to explain to a supervisor that the requirement we'd been given would greatly increase our workload but would gain us very little operationally. He couldn't see my point so I told him a story.

The USS Conyngham (DDG 17) was on a training cruise off the Virginia coast in May of 1990 when a massive fuel oil fire broke out. The all hands effort that ensued was a 23 hour battle to save the ship. Unfortunately, she lost 1 sailor and 18 were severely wounded. The Navy issued more than 50 medals to the crew as a result of their actions.


When the Conyngham got back to Norfolk, I was able to tour the fire zone. The space was a continuous black char. Throughout, massive reinforcing timbers were erected, making it look like some nightmare forest. As I walked around, the deck rose and fell under my feet like a crazy funhouse room at the carnival. I shot a glance to our guide and he just nodded grimly, "Yeah, the entire deck was close to buckling." We made our way back to the dock and we passed sailors scraping the superstructure and painting. Back on the pier, I watched Navy divers hit the water near her stern. A little while later a crane lifted her massive screw from the water and laid it gently on a barge. I looked back up at her decks at her sailors painting and just shook my head.

The Conyngham was never again going to move under her own steam. Her forward boiler room was gone, CIC was gutted, and her screw was floating away. Yet, someone thought it would be a good exercise to give her a fresh coat of paint.

So as I was trying to explain to my supervisor that we would see very little gain for the amount of work we put in, I told him he was "painting the Conyngham."

There, it's out now. Feel free to use it in normal discourse, particularly with your supervisors. However, I want credit...