My friend Nick Martin wrote the following and I thought it would be good to post. Right on Nick!
I, Nick Martin, am no John Maynard Keynes, but these ideas (which are all over the news and the water cooler) are just plain wrong. Comments welcome!
Five Misconceptions About the Financial Crisis
1) If Congress didn’t force banks to lend money to poor minorities, the crisis would have been averted. This is completely false. In reality, the worst offenders have been unregulated companies like American Home Mortgage and giant firms like Bear Sterns, leveraging themselves at 33:1 and taking advantage of the most de-regulated economic system in history. Underprivileged people involved in Carter’s Community Re-Investment Act actually defaulted at a LOWER rate than the average citizen in 2008.
2) The bailout plan will “only” bail out Wall Street. This displays a basic misunderstanding of the way the U.S. economy works. Our economy runs on credit. If the top financial companies stop giving credit, the economy will come crashing down in a heartbeat. Warren Buffet, who has as much authority as anyone in the country right now in economics, called the bailout plan a necessity. Without credit, the value of everything will drop precipitously and all of us will be reduced to our physical assets, like a Third World country. The State of California needs $7 billion in credit just to meet its annual payroll. Furthermore, the bailout plan isn’t just a $700 billon gift. It actually resembles a hedge fund, where all of the investors (the taxpayers) have a managing interest in the fund, and pay the Treasury Secretary a small fee to run it. The bailout bails out everyone who has a stake in the market. Period.
3) Government restrictions and laws regarding banks brought the crisis about; to avert this crisis, we need less regulation. False. I think, after twenty years of Reagan-omics, we ought to know what it’s good for – making the CEOs of companies like Enron and World Com very rich while encouraging highly leveraged positions, market manipulation, and criminal action. The more you read about the financial meltdown, the more it resembles Milken’s junk bond crash of the 80s, or the collapse of the California energy markets in the late 90s. For example, AIG’s dependence on “credit default swaps,” which are basically leveraged bets that a troubled company will not default, resulted in losses of over $18 billion. Like junk bonds, credit defaults only succeed in a bull market- Buffett calls them “financial weapons of mass destruction.” Credit default swaps and other over-the-counter (OTC) derivatives on this scale are only possible in a laissez-faire economy. We need more regulation, not less.
4) We are in The Great Depression. No, we’re not. First, the Great Depression didn’t hit until nearly a year after Black Monday. At that point, the Great Depression boasted a 25% unemployment rate, ours is currently at 7%. Second, stocks have already dropped 36% - in the Great Depression, they lost 50%. We are close to the bottom, not the top. Third, FDIC regulations have ensured that there will not be the massive bank failures of the 1930s. Finally, because this crisis is largely based on lack of credit, it’s more a matter of finding the right economic stimulus than, say, building thousands of bridges to generate jobs, or, say, getting involved in a profitable conflict overseas.
5) The economic system is too complicated to understand; better leave the thinking to the experts. Absolutely not. As this crisis has already proved, CEOs at major financial firms and top dogs in our government have made colossal, unthinkable errors. Would you roll the dice on your paycheck if the odds 33:1 against you? A crash course in high school economics and some careful reading of reputable news sources (The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, the Economist) and perhaps a class or two in market research, and you will be fully equipped to make intelligent, informed decisions on your own, as opposing to leaving your money in the hands of self-interested morons who might not even have a college degree. Just like politics, the best weapon against a financial crisis (or a stupid President) is well-informed, thoughtful voters.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
First Night at the Opera
Last night, Stella and I caught the final performance of Puccini's El Trittico at the Chandler Pavilion. The show has had a lot of press because of its directors - the first two one-acts were directed by William Friedkin (of The Exorcist, and The French Connection fame), and the final one was directed by none other than Woody Allen. It was my first time sitting in the audience of a professional opera, and it will most definitely not be my last.
The three stories are very different from each other. The first act, Il Tabarro, deals with a love triangle that ends, not surprisingly, with the cuckold husband taking revenge on his wife's lover. Then, in Suor Angelica, the evening's most powerful hour, a banished woman in a convent takes her own life after discovering her young illegitimate son has died. The final act, Gianni Schicchi, is a comic farce about a greedy family pursuing their patriarch's fortune.
The sets were also extremely different, but each one equally lavish and detailed. I was once an opera stagehand at the MAC at Indiana University, so I understand a little about what goes into a scene change with sets on such a scale. I wish I could have had a backstage view to watch the crew change out these gigantic three dimensional paintings.
All three acts were strong, although Friedkin demonstrated a more thorough understanding of the medium from the point of view of the last row in the house. This is especially clear in Suor Angelica, where every character wears the same costume (except for a few nuns and the wicked aunt who comes to tell Angelica the bad news.) When it began I was worried that I wouldn't be able to keep track of the main character! But the direction and choreography were deft; once Angelica rises out of the group after the beautiful introduction, not once was I left confused. This demonstrates to me that Friedkin had everyone in the theater in mind.
Allen's offering, which was entertaining, light, and joyous, was harder to follow. The set was magnificent (I think its reveal caused the biggest gasp of the evening), but is was cluttered and the choreography was busy. There was so much movement on the stage at moments, it was difficult to know what to look at. I'm certain that several jokes only played to the people on the lower levels; you could hear guffaws and chuckles rising up through the house. In some ways, the first act of the evening was funnier, not because Friedkin has a better handle on comedy, but because he has a better handle on how to play an opera to everyone in the theater.
With that said, my mixed response to the last act wasn't necessarily to its execution. The second act, Suor Angelica, was so powerful and exhausting, that the light farce afterward full of caricature and goofiness didn't resonate as well. I think that perhaps they should have ended the evening with the tragedy, although that's not how Puccini intended it. Watching the second piece was unlike anything I have experienced in live musical performance. The moments where tragedy and beauty reached their pinnacle had me weeping for a very long time during the show. Puccini's music is extraordinary, and when put into dramatic context, it has the capability to overwhelm the senses. The whole evening was a grand surprise. I went for a good time, and I came away challenged (its almost 4 hours long with two intermissions), and rewarded beyond all expectation.
The most important aspect of opera I learned last night is that you can give a paragraph synopsis to tell what happens in an opera, but that synopsis rarely describes what the opera is about. The subtleties of meaning have to be experienced first hand to gain the most from the work. Puccini's sympathies for the working class are lost in a paragraph about Il Tabarro. His careful rendering of a despairing mother in Suor Angelica does not translate fully if you listen to the music alone. You have to watch it live for all the nuances to breathe, and meanwhile, the virtuoso singers take you to places you didn't know existed.
The three stories are very different from each other. The first act, Il Tabarro, deals with a love triangle that ends, not surprisingly, with the cuckold husband taking revenge on his wife's lover. Then, in Suor Angelica, the evening's most powerful hour, a banished woman in a convent takes her own life after discovering her young illegitimate son has died. The final act, Gianni Schicchi, is a comic farce about a greedy family pursuing their patriarch's fortune.
The sets were also extremely different, but each one equally lavish and detailed. I was once an opera stagehand at the MAC at Indiana University, so I understand a little about what goes into a scene change with sets on such a scale. I wish I could have had a backstage view to watch the crew change out these gigantic three dimensional paintings.
All three acts were strong, although Friedkin demonstrated a more thorough understanding of the medium from the point of view of the last row in the house. This is especially clear in Suor Angelica, where every character wears the same costume (except for a few nuns and the wicked aunt who comes to tell Angelica the bad news.) When it began I was worried that I wouldn't be able to keep track of the main character! But the direction and choreography were deft; once Angelica rises out of the group after the beautiful introduction, not once was I left confused. This demonstrates to me that Friedkin had everyone in the theater in mind.
Allen's offering, which was entertaining, light, and joyous, was harder to follow. The set was magnificent (I think its reveal caused the biggest gasp of the evening), but is was cluttered and the choreography was busy. There was so much movement on the stage at moments, it was difficult to know what to look at. I'm certain that several jokes only played to the people on the lower levels; you could hear guffaws and chuckles rising up through the house. In some ways, the first act of the evening was funnier, not because Friedkin has a better handle on comedy, but because he has a better handle on how to play an opera to everyone in the theater.
With that said, my mixed response to the last act wasn't necessarily to its execution. The second act, Suor Angelica, was so powerful and exhausting, that the light farce afterward full of caricature and goofiness didn't resonate as well. I think that perhaps they should have ended the evening with the tragedy, although that's not how Puccini intended it. Watching the second piece was unlike anything I have experienced in live musical performance. The moments where tragedy and beauty reached their pinnacle had me weeping for a very long time during the show. Puccini's music is extraordinary, and when put into dramatic context, it has the capability to overwhelm the senses. The whole evening was a grand surprise. I went for a good time, and I came away challenged (its almost 4 hours long with two intermissions), and rewarded beyond all expectation.
The most important aspect of opera I learned last night is that you can give a paragraph synopsis to tell what happens in an opera, but that synopsis rarely describes what the opera is about. The subtleties of meaning have to be experienced first hand to gain the most from the work. Puccini's sympathies for the working class are lost in a paragraph about Il Tabarro. His careful rendering of a despairing mother in Suor Angelica does not translate fully if you listen to the music alone. You have to watch it live for all the nuances to breathe, and meanwhile, the virtuoso singers take you to places you didn't know existed.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Letter to a Despairing Friend
Hey there Liz,
Thanks for the article! Great read. I think that Letham makes a lot of heady and fascinating points about The Dark Knight. But I also think the movie doesn't hold up entirely to the model he puts forth. I am not smart enough to answer Letham's analysis point by point. I think he is definitely on to something, but its not all hopeless.
I think The Dark Knight is a reflection of the times at hand, not necessarily a propaganda piece for the administration. (That partisan hack, Andrew Klavan, who interpreted the movie as a defense of W is an idiot, and his op-ed doesn't hold a candle to Letham's thoughtful analysis.) I think its funny that I had an allergic reaction to Iron Man, and you to the Dark Knight. I'm not sure what it says about us, maybe that at the times we saw each movie, we saw the real evils that haunt us and thus, were horrified.
My only criticism of Letham's article is that he sounds beyond pessimistic. Granted, it may be a time to despair, but you cannot allow your despair to totally paralyze you because when you do that, you give your enemies power over you. I'm not about to do that anymore. Pessimism is a poison. McCain/Palin will not stop us. They may make it harder, but they will not stop me from living a free life or doing what I can to help others live free lives. It may be small consolation in a world where even Amy Goodman gets forcibly arrested in the United States, but she isn't giving up and neither should we.
Don't lose hope! I realize its hard living in Oklahoma with two fascist idiots as your senators. But the tide is turning. Obama isn't the end all be all, but his election will demonstrate a shift. And he has a great chance -
www.fivethirtyeight.com
Stella's mom volunteers for Andrew Rice in Oklahoma. Sure, he has a very small chance at beating Inhofe, but he has a better chance than a Democrat has had in OK for a long time. That's big! And a sign of a shift. Keep the hope alive Liz! Don't despair (too much). You're a bright shining beacon in that state of yours, and even if you don't feel like you are penetrating the haze and apathy created by No Child Left Behind and video game binges, I guarantee that you are reaching some of your students in ways you can't possibly imagine. And the effects of your teaching will live on long after we are all gone.
God, I sound maudlin and I'm not even drunk. Yet.
Thanks for the article! Great read. I think that Letham makes a lot of heady and fascinating points about The Dark Knight. But I also think the movie doesn't hold up entirely to the model he puts forth. I am not smart enough to answer Letham's analysis point by point. I think he is definitely on to something, but its not all hopeless.
I think The Dark Knight is a reflection of the times at hand, not necessarily a propaganda piece for the administration. (That partisan hack, Andrew Klavan, who interpreted the movie as a defense of W is an idiot, and his op-ed doesn't hold a candle to Letham's thoughtful analysis.) I think its funny that I had an allergic reaction to Iron Man, and you to the Dark Knight. I'm not sure what it says about us, maybe that at the times we saw each movie, we saw the real evils that haunt us and thus, were horrified.
My only criticism of Letham's article is that he sounds beyond pessimistic. Granted, it may be a time to despair, but you cannot allow your despair to totally paralyze you because when you do that, you give your enemies power over you. I'm not about to do that anymore. Pessimism is a poison. McCain/Palin will not stop us. They may make it harder, but they will not stop me from living a free life or doing what I can to help others live free lives. It may be small consolation in a world where even Amy Goodman gets forcibly arrested in the United States, but she isn't giving up and neither should we.
Don't lose hope! I realize its hard living in Oklahoma with two fascist idiots as your senators. But the tide is turning. Obama isn't the end all be all, but his election will demonstrate a shift. And he has a great chance -
www.fivethirtyeight.com
Stella's mom volunteers for Andrew Rice in Oklahoma. Sure, he has a very small chance at beating Inhofe, but he has a better chance than a Democrat has had in OK for a long time. That's big! And a sign of a shift. Keep the hope alive Liz! Don't despair (too much). You're a bright shining beacon in that state of yours, and even if you don't feel like you are penetrating the haze and apathy created by No Child Left Behind and video game binges, I guarantee that you are reaching some of your students in ways you can't possibly imagine. And the effects of your teaching will live on long after we are all gone.
God, I sound maudlin and I'm not even drunk. Yet.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Palin
I've been thinking about it all week and I'm still irrational. I wonder when that will die down and I can actually think clearly about the issues.
I found out Palin was the VP nominee when I was half asleep on the Friday morning of the announcement. We have a habit to turn on the news in the mornings sometimes, and there she was.
Over the weekend, the feelings of dread and anger crept in. My Facebook status wondered if I would look back on the Bush years with fondness when Palin is our president. My wonderful (but conservative) cousin Aaron stepped in and said I was being a sourpuss and not to worry about it too much. Unfortunately, I snapped back with a litany of why I was so depressed and two other people chimed in on the conversation. Aaron was taken aback and most likely offended and isn't communicating with me presently. I have incredible guilt about this because Aaron actually didn't do anything wrong at all. Plus he's one of the nicest people I know. Sorry Aaron.
But I don't think I'm wrong to be dismayed by Palin. Her speech on Wednesday proved that the situation is even worse than originally thought. McCain has managed to pull such a divisive and wicked move with this pick that I'm beyond incredulous.
With the RNC speech, Sarah Palin demonstrated that she disdains half of America. She's proud of her country, but only her part. She especially hates San Francisco, which last time I visited, was a part of the USA. She does not believe in the freedom of the press. She looks down on community organizers. She doesn't believe in human rights. She thinks Ebay is a good free market tool for government. She especially despises people who tilt left. And she hasn't even gone into specific issues yet!
My conservative friends and family love this woman. How is it that the same person can create a sense of wonder and magic in one group of people and a sense of horror and suicidal dread in another? Can this person really be good for the country at large? The same people who were saying things like "well, we just don't know Obama yet" or "Obama doesn't have the experience" etc. etc. etc. are now defending their avid love for a woman who has been on the world stage for a little over one week.
Wednesday night, Palin said -
"No one expects us to agree on everything. But we are expected to govern with integrity, good will, clear convictions, and ... a servant's heart."
I found out Palin was the VP nominee when I was half asleep on the Friday morning of the announcement. We have a habit to turn on the news in the mornings sometimes, and there she was.
Over the weekend, the feelings of dread and anger crept in. My Facebook status wondered if I would look back on the Bush years with fondness when Palin is our president. My wonderful (but conservative) cousin Aaron stepped in and said I was being a sourpuss and not to worry about it too much. Unfortunately, I snapped back with a litany of why I was so depressed and two other people chimed in on the conversation. Aaron was taken aback and most likely offended and isn't communicating with me presently. I have incredible guilt about this because Aaron actually didn't do anything wrong at all. Plus he's one of the nicest people I know. Sorry Aaron.
But I don't think I'm wrong to be dismayed by Palin. Her speech on Wednesday proved that the situation is even worse than originally thought. McCain has managed to pull such a divisive and wicked move with this pick that I'm beyond incredulous.
With the RNC speech, Sarah Palin demonstrated that she disdains half of America. She's proud of her country, but only her part. She especially hates San Francisco, which last time I visited, was a part of the USA. She does not believe in the freedom of the press. She looks down on community organizers. She doesn't believe in human rights. She thinks Ebay is a good free market tool for government. She especially despises people who tilt left. And she hasn't even gone into specific issues yet!
My conservative friends and family love this woman. How is it that the same person can create a sense of wonder and magic in one group of people and a sense of horror and suicidal dread in another? Can this person really be good for the country at large? The same people who were saying things like "well, we just don't know Obama yet" or "Obama doesn't have the experience" etc. etc. etc. are now defending their avid love for a woman who has been on the world stage for a little over one week.
Wednesday night, Palin said -
"No one expects us to agree on everything. But we are expected to govern with integrity, good will, clear convictions, and ... a servant's heart."
She may have clear convictions, but I didn't see any good will in that speech Wednesday night except towards the people in the convention hall and to John McCain.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
The Bulldog '08
Nick and I hiked and jogged a 25k this weekend in Malibu Creek State Park.
The total climb for the entire course is 4000ft. The Bulldog Road section of the course rises uphill slowly for about 4 miles to this view.
The ridge rocks jut out and try to trip you down.
The marine layer prevented any views of the ocean.
Downhill proved to be more battering than uphill.
"And there is no greatness where there is not simplicity, goodness, and truth."
- Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
- Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
My Own Private Greedy Yo
Last Friday Stella and I went to the Echo to see Pop Levi perform. We hadn't really heard of him before, but in our latest push to see local music, we went out amongst the hipsters to catch a listen. The guy is a strange amalgamation of Prince, Devo, and the complete 80s aesthetic. An entertaining act, although it was difficult to read very deeply into the show. Perhaps the water is just too dark or deep to see the bottom. But he was certainly worth more than the cover. His showmanship is great - someone needs to talk to him about getting more live musicians. For the most part its just him on vocals/guitar and one other guy using a Korg and a laptop to make really loud bass and drum loops that overpower Pop Levi's playing. Pop Levi very well may be a virtuoso on his many guitars. But I can't say for sure because his instruments were mixed lower than the electronic accompaniment.
The opening band, the Parson Red Heads, were a welcoming and laid back beginning. Generous and good spirited performers all.
The trip to the Echo was Stella's and my first foray into the indie music scene in LA, and we had a great time.
After leaving, a strange and embarrassing event occurred. As we walked to the car, Stella noticed a folded up 100 dollar bill lying on the ground. She picked it up to look at it and I took it out of her hands. Then we noticed a string of bills on the ground all folded up behind us on the sidewalk. About 700 dollars in all, just sitting there, no one around, except for three people 100 feet up the walk and across the street. I started picking the bills up quickly and putting them in my pocket. I didn't want anyone to see what I was doing just in case the person who dropped them noticed their money was missing. I was almost frothing at the mouth with excitement - FREE MONEY!
We hurried to the car, and as Stella started driving us away, I took the money out of my pocket. I kept saying "It can't be real, can it?" and sure enough it wasn't. I unfolded a bill and it was an ad for some music show or website. My heart sank. Not only was I disappointed that the money wasn't real, but I couldn't believe the gut reactions I had to a little green. I felt ashamed. I felt like Pavlov's dog. I'm sure someone was watching us, probably the person who put those fake bills out. Hopefully they weren't filming it!
Last night (Wednesday 8/19) we caught a performance of the LA Phil at the Bowl. Joshua Bell was the guest and he was pretty incredible. He performed Berlioz and Saint Saëns with magnificent aplomb. He even did a little encore - a short solo from The Red Violin score. After the intermission, the symphony played one of my favorite works by Stravinsky (or any composer) - Petrushka. When I heard this work for the first time when I was 17 it changed my life. I still get an endorphin rush while listening to it.
Sadly, this performance did not have the same effect. The Bowl is a horrible place to see a symphony if you can't afford the seats up front. Unfortunately, you have to rely on their speaker system which cannot possibly be tuned for every seat in the house. Sadly, it sounded like I was listening to a mono recording from the 40s. Still impressive, but a little disappointing. The Bowl is obviously a money making venture; I'm not sure they are concerned with pleasing audiophiles as long as they can get you to buy their tickets.
We have another set of tickets for this venue in a couple weeks in the same area of the theater (the very back, center). I will enjoy it, but I will not go to the Bowl to watch a symphony again... accept possibly the Tchaikovsky extravaganza they have planned for Labor Day. So addictive.
The opening band, the Parson Red Heads, were a welcoming and laid back beginning. Generous and good spirited performers all.
The trip to the Echo was Stella's and my first foray into the indie music scene in LA, and we had a great time.
After leaving, a strange and embarrassing event occurred. As we walked to the car, Stella noticed a folded up 100 dollar bill lying on the ground. She picked it up to look at it and I took it out of her hands. Then we noticed a string of bills on the ground all folded up behind us on the sidewalk. About 700 dollars in all, just sitting there, no one around, except for three people 100 feet up the walk and across the street. I started picking the bills up quickly and putting them in my pocket. I didn't want anyone to see what I was doing just in case the person who dropped them noticed their money was missing. I was almost frothing at the mouth with excitement - FREE MONEY!
We hurried to the car, and as Stella started driving us away, I took the money out of my pocket. I kept saying "It can't be real, can it?" and sure enough it wasn't. I unfolded a bill and it was an ad for some music show or website. My heart sank. Not only was I disappointed that the money wasn't real, but I couldn't believe the gut reactions I had to a little green. I felt ashamed. I felt like Pavlov's dog. I'm sure someone was watching us, probably the person who put those fake bills out. Hopefully they weren't filming it!
Last night (Wednesday 8/19) we caught a performance of the LA Phil at the Bowl. Joshua Bell was the guest and he was pretty incredible. He performed Berlioz and Saint Saëns with magnificent aplomb. He even did a little encore - a short solo from The Red Violin score. After the intermission, the symphony played one of my favorite works by Stravinsky (or any composer) - Petrushka. When I heard this work for the first time when I was 17 it changed my life. I still get an endorphin rush while listening to it.
Sadly, this performance did not have the same effect. The Bowl is a horrible place to see a symphony if you can't afford the seats up front. Unfortunately, you have to rely on their speaker system which cannot possibly be tuned for every seat in the house. Sadly, it sounded like I was listening to a mono recording from the 40s. Still impressive, but a little disappointing. The Bowl is obviously a money making venture; I'm not sure they are concerned with pleasing audiophiles as long as they can get you to buy their tickets.
We have another set of tickets for this venue in a couple weeks in the same area of the theater (the very back, center). I will enjoy it, but I will not go to the Bowl to watch a symphony again... accept possibly the Tchaikovsky extravaganza they have planned for Labor Day. So addictive.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Wag the World War III
The United States government is using the present conflict in Georgia and Russia as a propaganda tool. Robert Scheer makes a good case for this in an article he wrote this week.
McCain's senior foreign policy adviser, Randy Scheunemann, was one of the architects of the Iraq war and may have even profited from it.
He was also very recently a lobbyist for Georgia. McCain and Scheunemann went there together as recently as 2006.
The threat of another Cold War or even World War III has taken the place of the orange alert for the upcoming election.
McCain's people are too shrewd for our own good. This is an incredibly complicated, brilliant set of moves on their part. Difficulty level - 7.5, Execution - 10. I'm not sure Obama has what it takes to deliver higher than a 17.5. Stay tuned for the individual competition tomorrow night.
This clip from Fox demonstrates what happens when things don't go according to whatever script they have going on over there. You can almost see Shepard Smith reading the teleprompter when it flashes "GO TO COMMERCIAL, GET HER OFF NOW, CEASE THE BROADCAST!"
PS - I may be wrong about that execution score. McCain's strategy may be backfiring on him. I heard Scheunemann's name mentioned on NPR just now, and not in a positive light.
McCain's senior foreign policy adviser, Randy Scheunemann, was one of the architects of the Iraq war and may have even profited from it.
He was also very recently a lobbyist for Georgia. McCain and Scheunemann went there together as recently as 2006.
The threat of another Cold War or even World War III has taken the place of the orange alert for the upcoming election.
McCain's people are too shrewd for our own good. This is an incredibly complicated, brilliant set of moves on their part. Difficulty level - 7.5, Execution - 10. I'm not sure Obama has what it takes to deliver higher than a 17.5. Stay tuned for the individual competition tomorrow night.
This clip from Fox demonstrates what happens when things don't go according to whatever script they have going on over there. You can almost see Shepard Smith reading the teleprompter when it flashes "GO TO COMMERCIAL, GET HER OFF NOW, CEASE THE BROADCAST!"
PS - I may be wrong about that execution score. McCain's strategy may be backfiring on him. I heard Scheunemann's name mentioned on NPR just now, and not in a positive light.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Jazz in Transit
The weekend of 8/8/08 was an explosion of Los Angeles discovery.
Friday night, my girl Stella and I used the subway to go to Pasadena to see our friend Brian Friedland play with his big band orchestra at the Jazz Institute. This guy has incredible chops on the keys, and his compositions are mad genius. He fuses classical elements into his jazz, quite literally in the case of a big band arrangement of Bartok's piano work Free Variations. I anxiously await a recording of Up the Coast, an astounding impressionistic journey with generous, expansive solos for various musicians.
This was the first time I have ridden the subway in a couple years. The rapid transit system in Los Angeles takes a commitment unheard of in places like San Francisco or New York. The subway goes far but not to many places considering the vastness of the area. The buses often feel overcrowded and perilous. The lines really slow down or stop altogether after a certain time, so you have to be careful not to get stranded. But Stella and I had an unexplainable urge to leave the car at home, and our destination in Pasadena was very close to the Gold Line. So off we went. Riding public transit is always interesting, with so many lives brushing against each other.
The ride out was a smooth one. I was able to have an extra margarita because I wasn't worried about driving. On the way back, there was an older grizzled man wearing a gold vest exposing his bony chest. He carried a large plastic bag, contents unknown. He would occasionally break into a jig or play a beat on the wall of the subway car. At every stop, he would step out of the train and would jump back in at the last possible moment after the chime signaled the doors were closing. I was worried he wouldn't make it back into the train leaving his bag behind for all of us to look at suspiciously. But he made it every time.
The only snag that night came when we got stranded at the Vermont/Wilshire station on the way back and had to walk the remaining mile to our apartment. Despite the late time, (12:30am) it wasn't a bad walk, and we treated it as an adventure. Koreatown is not too bad in most parts, especially when you stick to the main thoroughfares like Wilshire. I had a vendor hotdog that was some kind of delicious, all grilled onions, charred dog, and tangy mustard. A beautiful thing, those vendor dogs.
I decided to make public transit a theme for the weekend. Saturday evening, I went to a party in Hollywood using the bus and rail lines. I got to Hollywood and Vine and then hoofed it up to the where the party was.
Then today, I decided to find something fun and free to do. I used the bus to go to Crenshaw and 43rd for the World Stage Jazz Festival where I caught stellar performances from Bobby Matos and his Afro Latin Jazz Ensemble as well as Jesse Sharps and the Gathering. The decision to go was spontaneous. I approached the trip with a combination of trepidation and excitement. This was the first time visiting the Leimart Park neighborhood on foot, and I wasn't sure what to expect.
The Leimart Park area turns out to be pretty inspiring. There are lots of shops with art and several venues for live music. There's a great coffee shop on Degnan that I hope to visit again someday for more than just water.
The festival took place in a public parking lot. A large white canopy housed chairs that probably accommodated a couple hundred people. It was a welcome respite from the harsh and constant rays of the friendly, fearsome sun. Anyone over the age of 40 was very well dressed, probably visiting the festival after a morning in church. Lots of families ambled about visiting the various kiosks selling artwork and food. At one point, I bought a spicy Cajun chicken dog - it seems I have a weakness for grilled hot dogs from outside vendors, and this one did not disappoint.
I stayed for two sets - the groups I had the privilege of listening to were very different from each other. Bobby Matos and his group were all laid back and cool. Their Latin grooves had people dancing up front, and heads were bopping back and forth under the canopy. There was a dancing red haired shirtless Jethro Tull look-alike spinning in circles so many times I'm surprised he didn't fall down.
Jesse Sharps and the Gathering have a more progressive, rough and tumble experimental approach to the jazz they make. Sharps' virtuousic rips up and down the soprano sax were ear splitting, vibrant, outrageous and bold. He plays many reed instruments, and every instrument he touched today screamed with brilliant spellbinding urgency. I was disappointed not to hear his take on the bassoon which he had on standby. That's my old instrument and when I played it, it never crossed my mind that it could be used in a jazz ensemble. Regret turns up in the oddest places. Nevertheless, its always a good sign when you wish the music went on longer.
On the way back home, while I waited for the bus, I am ashamed to say that I started feeling a bit on edge. I'm sure that I was never in any danger, but I felt threatened nonetheless because of how out of place I was in the neighborhood. Across the street I could hear yelling and at first I thought it was a fight. When an elderly woman sat down next to me at the bus stop, I was surprised by the relief I felt by her presence. At some point I realized the yelling had to do with a game, dice maybe? Not sure. I was definitely nonplussed by my prejudices.
But, overall it was a memorable and rewarding experience.
A weekend for the blogs.
Friday night, my girl Stella and I used the subway to go to Pasadena to see our friend Brian Friedland play with his big band orchestra at the Jazz Institute. This guy has incredible chops on the keys, and his compositions are mad genius. He fuses classical elements into his jazz, quite literally in the case of a big band arrangement of Bartok's piano work Free Variations. I anxiously await a recording of Up the Coast, an astounding impressionistic journey with generous, expansive solos for various musicians.
This was the first time I have ridden the subway in a couple years. The rapid transit system in Los Angeles takes a commitment unheard of in places like San Francisco or New York. The subway goes far but not to many places considering the vastness of the area. The buses often feel overcrowded and perilous. The lines really slow down or stop altogether after a certain time, so you have to be careful not to get stranded. But Stella and I had an unexplainable urge to leave the car at home, and our destination in Pasadena was very close to the Gold Line. So off we went. Riding public transit is always interesting, with so many lives brushing against each other.
The ride out was a smooth one. I was able to have an extra margarita because I wasn't worried about driving. On the way back, there was an older grizzled man wearing a gold vest exposing his bony chest. He carried a large plastic bag, contents unknown. He would occasionally break into a jig or play a beat on the wall of the subway car. At every stop, he would step out of the train and would jump back in at the last possible moment after the chime signaled the doors were closing. I was worried he wouldn't make it back into the train leaving his bag behind for all of us to look at suspiciously. But he made it every time.
The only snag that night came when we got stranded at the Vermont/Wilshire station on the way back and had to walk the remaining mile to our apartment. Despite the late time, (12:30am) it wasn't a bad walk, and we treated it as an adventure. Koreatown is not too bad in most parts, especially when you stick to the main thoroughfares like Wilshire. I had a vendor hotdog that was some kind of delicious, all grilled onions, charred dog, and tangy mustard. A beautiful thing, those vendor dogs.
I decided to make public transit a theme for the weekend. Saturday evening, I went to a party in Hollywood using the bus and rail lines. I got to Hollywood and Vine and then hoofed it up to the where the party was.
Then today, I decided to find something fun and free to do. I used the bus to go to Crenshaw and 43rd for the World Stage Jazz Festival where I caught stellar performances from Bobby Matos and his Afro Latin Jazz Ensemble as well as Jesse Sharps and the Gathering. The decision to go was spontaneous. I approached the trip with a combination of trepidation and excitement. This was the first time visiting the Leimart Park neighborhood on foot, and I wasn't sure what to expect.
The Leimart Park area turns out to be pretty inspiring. There are lots of shops with art and several venues for live music. There's a great coffee shop on Degnan that I hope to visit again someday for more than just water.
The festival took place in a public parking lot. A large white canopy housed chairs that probably accommodated a couple hundred people. It was a welcome respite from the harsh and constant rays of the friendly, fearsome sun. Anyone over the age of 40 was very well dressed, probably visiting the festival after a morning in church. Lots of families ambled about visiting the various kiosks selling artwork and food. At one point, I bought a spicy Cajun chicken dog - it seems I have a weakness for grilled hot dogs from outside vendors, and this one did not disappoint.
I stayed for two sets - the groups I had the privilege of listening to were very different from each other. Bobby Matos and his group were all laid back and cool. Their Latin grooves had people dancing up front, and heads were bopping back and forth under the canopy. There was a dancing red haired shirtless Jethro Tull look-alike spinning in circles so many times I'm surprised he didn't fall down.
Jesse Sharps and the Gathering have a more progressive, rough and tumble experimental approach to the jazz they make. Sharps' virtuousic rips up and down the soprano sax were ear splitting, vibrant, outrageous and bold. He plays many reed instruments, and every instrument he touched today screamed with brilliant spellbinding urgency. I was disappointed not to hear his take on the bassoon which he had on standby. That's my old instrument and when I played it, it never crossed my mind that it could be used in a jazz ensemble. Regret turns up in the oddest places. Nevertheless, its always a good sign when you wish the music went on longer.
On the way back home, while I waited for the bus, I am ashamed to say that I started feeling a bit on edge. I'm sure that I was never in any danger, but I felt threatened nonetheless because of how out of place I was in the neighborhood. Across the street I could hear yelling and at first I thought it was a fight. When an elderly woman sat down next to me at the bus stop, I was surprised by the relief I felt by her presence. At some point I realized the yelling had to do with a game, dice maybe? Not sure. I was definitely nonplussed by my prejudices.
But, overall it was a memorable and rewarding experience.
A weekend for the blogs.
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