Bi-Coastal Pleasures & Challenges

With my only child and grandchild firmly ensconced in Los Angeles - at least for the next few years anyway - a bi-coastal life has fast become a new norm for me. Like most major life changes, this one has brought pleasures and challenges in roughly equal measure.   

* Enjoying the climate; increasingly worn down by hassles related to flying.

* Grateful my son-in-law's guitar is always nearby; stymied by his state-of-the-art coffee maker.

* Thrilled to be witnessing many of my grandson's milestones in person; still searching for a steady reading rhythm. 

For those who share or have had an experience similar to mine, what have been your pleasures and challenges?        

Get It Right, Will You Please?

Is it too much to ask for filmmakers to get it right when depicting musicians playing an instrument? If an actor is not particularly adept with the instrument they're supposed to be playing, there are skillful ways to get around that fact. The actor in a medium shot with their hands doing something not even remotely close to what they're supposedly playing is not one of those ways. Why not a long shot? Even better, how about shooting just the hands actually playing the riff or passage in question? Isn't one of those preferable to the alternative, i.e., subjecting those of us who know better to watch someone "act" as though what they're doing resembles what we're listening to? 

Before asking you to indulge the brief rant below connected to my most recent experience with this kind of sloppy musical filmmaking, let me first ask a question. When were you last annoyed by a filmmaker not getting it right vis-a-vis your line of work? Lawyers, police officers, teachers are three vocations - among others - frequently depicted on film, right? How many of you have ever been triggered by a scene from your profession analogous to the way a scene near the end of Song Sung Blue triggered me? I refuse to believe I'm alone in my nitpicking. 

Michael Imperioli - a talented actor - is a guitar-playing Buddy Holly impersonator in Song Sung Blue. In a scene early in the film, it is clear he knows how to authentically play guitar chords. That makes what happens in a closing scene - accompanying Kate Hudson on a Neil Diamond song - even more egregious. In a medium shot, Imperioli is shown flailing around meaninglessly on the first to third frets of the guitar in the brief instrumental interludes between the stanzas Hudson sings. I submit even novice guitarists watching carefully could tell you what he's doing is not close to what we're hearing. This is not Imperioli's fault. It is careless filmmaking and sadly - at least with respect to musicians - not unusual.

Lest you think my kvetching excessive, I'm happy to provide a list of worthwhile, authentic movies about musicians, e.g., The Fabulous Baker Boys. I'm guessing there was a good musical consultant on hand for that film, or for many others that get it right. It's not that hard.    

Book Club Report: Year Nine

Year nine of the No Wine or Whiners book club was a particularly memorable one. I'm leaving out several highlights in the interest of ensuring this post is no longer than the usual length. 

Most well-received novel of the year: The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store (2023) - James McBride. The bonus accompanying this discussion with my book club was the opportunity I had to evangelize on behalf of McBride's first book - The Color of Water (1995) - one of the best memoirs I've ever read. 

Most well-received non-fiction of the year: The Wager (2023) - David Grann. My selection of this exceptional title inadvertently broke a guideline established in January 2017 at the club's inception, i.e., never to repeat an author. I'd forgotten we'd read Grann's equally masterful Killers of the Flower Moon a few years back. In the end it didn't matter because The Wager was universally well-received and inspired a rich discussion.

In August, the club hosted Jim Thomson, author of A Better Ending: A Brother's Twenty-Year Quest to Discover the Truth about His Sister's Death (2025). The event drew almost forty people and was followed by a reception at our home. This was a first for the club, helping to make our ninth year special. 

Coming up in the early fall of year ten: A celebration when we reach book #100; more in next year's report. In the meanwhile, I'd welcome hearing highlights from any club you're involved with, though I can't promise I won't steal some of your good ideas.          

Requesting Input for Improving the Republic

Beginning January 2014, I decided the start of a new year would be a good time to promote an idea that might then open a meaningful dialogue about a way to improve our republic. Given the response that greeted my idea that first year for a 28th amendment to the U.S. constitution establishing term limits for members of Congress, I've since been emboldened to use my platform in the blogosphere for additional ideas in the hope of continuing the dialogue. How can this hurt? Won't we all be enriched if we make a sincere effort to live up to those lofty ideals of ours?    

For this iteration of my series in civics, I'd like your input. Which of the previous suggestions made here do you believe would deliver the greatest benefit? 

* 2014:  Establishing mandatory term limits for members of Congress

* 2015:  Abolishing the Electoral College, i.e., using the popular vote to elect the President

* 2016:  Revising the wording of the 2nd amendment to reflect contemporary realities     

* 2017:  Setting an age limit for the President using evolving science re average onset age of dementia 

* 2018:  Converting one of the fifty states into a self-governing territory for white supremacists

* 2021:  Ending the term of any Supreme Court Justice caught sleeping during sworn testimony   

* 2024:  Requiring every individual on the national presidential ballot score 100% on a standardized test re the U.S. constitution

Only the 2021 suggestion is "new". That time I requested you first send your ideas before I revealed my own. The post that year was met with radio silence. I then kept my promise, petulantly holding onto my brilliant notion until this moment.  

 

What do you say? BTW, any of the seven earlier posts in full are available upon request. Yeah, right. 

Kryptonite and Spinach

Just to be sure we're all on the same page before beginning today's thought experiment: Kryptonite strips Superman of his power. Spinach helps Popeye surmount challenges. Ready?

Put aside the hyperbole. Avoid being overly literal. And remember: We all have at least one Superman-like superpower, something exceptional that has been in us from the start. If that premise strikes you as immodest, forgive me in advance, but stay engaged long enough to tell me about your kryptonite and your spinach. I'll go first, of course. Been at this blogging thing for almost fifteen years; I know the deal. 

The kryptonite that can strip me of my energy - my superpower - is apathy. I realize I'm giving away too much by feeling low when people don't respond enthusiastically to my energy. Knowing that and dealing with it well in the moment continues to be a battle for me.    

My spinach is the innate goodness I see in many people I meet. I'm not naive. Nor am I oblivious to cruelty, hate, and injustice. But I am able to surmount challenges easier knowing I'm bound to soon run across another kind and gracious person. 

Please join me.

Happy to Pay This Debt

"I felt dizzy again from aliveness. Flush with baffle and excitement, like the first person to touch snow." 

Martyr! is a novel that deserves a reader's full attention. Kaveh Akbar's 2024 powerhouse has narrative momentum, inventive architecture, and prose that sings. Twenty-seven-year-old Cyrus Shams is a memorably flawed, thoroughly modern protagonist, one you will root for at the same time you're laughing at his frequently comic missteps. My sole regret connected to this recent reading experience has nothing to do with either this exemplary book or author. 

Upon finishing a highly lauded, maddeningly discursive novel I'd started on the same day as Martyr!, it was clear that reading the two novels at the same time was a tactical error. My mistake was apparent from the moment my full attention turned to Akbar's tour-de-force. After reviewing the few notes I'd made to that point about Martyr!, I then re-read a few earlier key passages. Good decision. From that point, I was re-assured that I'd been in capable hands all along. Any previous doubts? Misplaced. I had quite simply bit off more than I could chew.   

Though I don't plan to abandon my longstanding practice of sometimes reading more than one book at a time, I am re-considering my approach, effective immediately. If a dense or discursive book is using an undue amount of my mental bandwidth, I now plan to devote my energy to that book alone. I owe that to storytelling prose stylists as talented as Kaveh Akbar.

"They sat there ... each quietly measuring the texture of the silence, the history between them."  

The Crab and the Prattler

 "Uh-huh", "no kidding?", "really?", etc. 

When did you most recently overhear an extended conversation wherein one of the two people involved repeatedly used some variation of those three polite responses? How long did it take before you began to wonder when the second person in this ostensible conversation was ever going to stop prattling?

Although sometimes perversely intrigued by the oblivious prattler in these situations, what fascinates me more is how creative the polite listeners can be. In my most recent experience, I lost count after about ten polite, non-committal responses. Aside from the three reliable chestnuts above, I also heard "wow", "you don't say", and - the one that really got my attention - "interesting". Crab that I am, I was most taken by that particular response probably because of how little I found mildly interesting in the jabberer's non-stop monologue. Churlish of me I know but there you have it.

In the thirty or so minutes I was privy to this interaction, the jabbering prattler didn't ask a single question of the listener. And that polite, creative, much-more-gracious-than-Pat person? Didn't seem to mind. This churlish crab will benefit a great deal more by remembering to emulate the grace of the listener vs. dwelling on the cluelessness of the prattler. Begin, again. 

Stop & Start, Continue: 2026

Today's post is the 13th iteration featuring the Stop-Start-Continue model as a new year begins. For an obvious reason, this one combines the stop and start components. If you decide to join me - as many of you have since 2012 - use any combination of the three components that works for you. The important piece is to make a commitment, public or otherwise, about something you plan to stop as this new year begins, and/or something else you plan to start, and/or something else that has worked for you that you plan to purposefully continue doing as 2026 unfolds. 

In 2026, I plan to stop focusing as much in my daily journal on the past and instead to start looking forward and writing about the future. This intention for the new year became clear to me in part because of an insightful conversation on New Year's Eve with good friends. One of them said that keeping a journal had never appealed to her because she saw little value - for herself - in reviewing the past. The other - who, like me, keeps a daily journal - indicated her journal was purposefully future focused. The more I thought about what both of them had said, the stronger my intention to stop and start became.

In 2026, I plan to continue ramping up the number of open jazz jam sessions I attend. Though I disappoint myself frequently in these situations, I know there's no better way to improve as a musician than by performing in front of a live audience. And, for anyone who has doubts about using a stop-start-continue model to hold yourself accountable, I encourage you to read last year's post from this same series, directly below. Note the continue pledge therein.

Reflections from the Bell Curve: Stop - Start - Continue: 2025 

Wish me luck and best of luck to anyone who joins me.