By Jonathan Miller, on Wed Aug 14, 2013 at 2:30 PM ET
MSNBC’s “All In with Chris Hayes” talks with Piper Kerman, the real-life inspiration behind the series, “Orange is the New Black”, and Jeff Smith, a former Missouri state
senator who read Kerman’s memoir while in prison on campaign finance violations, about the prison system in the U.S. and AG Holder’s recent remarks about mandatory prison minimums.
(Click here to read Jeff Smith’s body of work about his time behind bars.)
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Aug 14, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
The flip side of addiction is an unraveling of many things: hurt, loss, fear, shame, loneliness, emptiness and aridness. Coupled with an intensity of feelings, passions, dreams, and idealism —all surrounded by an overwhelming craving for love and affirmation to fill in the gaping pieces missing from an un-whole life.
And then there is the undisciplined promise and lingering sense of pending defeat made endurable only from the well of undeveloped latent –and misguided– talent.
The addict is in many ways the ultimate tightrope walker. If his demons prevail and he falls to one side, he dies. But if he taps into some sort of divinity in the universe or in himself, he falls to the other side. And soars.
No public person I can think of embodies this beautifully treacherous balancing act more harrowingly (and inspiringly) than Robert Downey Jr.
He has ridden the roller coaster of addiction–and its flip side– publicly and dramatically into our hearts and minds–and souls.
Robert Downey Jr wrote and performed this piano ballad, Snakes (first video)
And more recently in a duet with Sting performed the aptly named Driven to Tears (second video).
In each video he shows us a glimpse of the depth of the brilliant and painful artistry tamped down so deeply inside this man-boy who can and has fallen far and hard. And soared so high and fantastically that only he can describe it. And he has touched us as we enjoy the honor and pleasure of witnessing his talent escape the bonds of his addictions and soar before us as we smile and applaud.
Here’s hoping he keeps falling to the beautiful side of his dichotomous daily walk— and soaring for yet another day.
And here’s hoping the very same glorious reprieve for all other addicts.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Aug 13, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Some things just aren’t meant to be.
Today, after 5 centuries of avoiding ever, ever spending more than about $7 on a pair of sunglasses from the drug store, I relented. My wife, son and daughter each donned sun glasses this morning and I felt left out.
Later this afternoon I snuck off to the Sunglasses Hut (or something like that) and after trying on about 25 different pairs of sunglasses (that cost over $7), I broke done and purchased the basic non-polorized (sp??) Ray Bans (the cheapest pair of Ray Bans they had). I had asked for something “basic” and “kinda classic” ….and something “that wouldn’t stand out on a person who doesn’t wear sun glasses and never has.”
As I walked out with the sun glasses on I could hear the customer behind me comment surprisingly to the sales clerk, “He bought those?” That was the first sign.
Before leaving the parking lot I texted my wife a picture of me and my new sunglasses before excitedly driving home to “join” the family with my new sunglasses status. My wife texted, “Hilarious!” And then my daughter texted, “LOL!” And my wife reported my son was laughing so hard that he was about to injure himself. Apparently, my sun glasses shot had gone viral within the family.
I explained that “‘Hilarious’ wasn’t what I was going for.” Adding that the “Sales clerk had told me they looked good on me.”
There’s more but before I was able to hang with the fam as the fourth sunglass-wearing member, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. And that I had just paid a little over a $100 for a pair of sunglasses that may be worn on my head but never dropped to my eyes to be worn correctly. I even tried the Tom Cruise Risky Business low sunglasses looking out over them. That was a fail too.
I should instead have bought 6 pairs of new dark socks, a new belt, a new sweat suit and two new pairs of $7 sunglasses from CVS. One for my head and one for my eyes. The latter only to be worn in extreme circumstances when absolutely necessary to protect my eyes against imminent danger (or when recovering from the glaucoma eye test) and no one else is around to see me.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Aug 12, 2013 at 3:00 PM ET
From John Y. Brown, III:
My liberal instincts got the best of me and I felt the need to be an equal opportunity promoter of faith based music for both the heavenly and heathen alike.
Of course, completely tongue in cheek. And very funny. I think.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Aug 12, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Question: Is it possible for a 4000 pound vehicle to vanish?
Answer: Yes. But it costs $124 to make it come back.
Today in Lexington I had lunch with a client and when I returned to my car in the parking lot it wasn’t a matter of not remembering the slot I parked or seeing my car after it had been dented by another driver and left without any explanation. It was a matter of just not being ther…e at all. Poof!
I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. My usual defense mechanism for when I feel frustration, disappointment or anger coming on is to make a wisecrack to distract form the tension.
I went inside and asked for the towing company and called:
Me: “Do you have a Maroon Honda Accord?”
Operator at towing service: “Yes. We are on Manchester Lane and you can pick it up.”
Me: “How much is it to pick up?”
Operator at towing service: “$124”
Me: “Geez. You are kidding me?”
Operator at towing service: “No. I’m not”
Me: For $248 could you tow it back to where you picked it up? I don’t have a car to get to you.”
Operator at towing service: “No. We have to see a picture ID and proof of ownership before we can move the car.”
Later while paying my towing fee I asked the clerk if they had a punch card that offered a gift or prize after the 5th or 10th tow….like a car air freshener.
Clerk at towing service: No. Please sign here”
I then looked proudly at my car who was sitting there so unassuming and out of place. I wanted to ask the clerk if my car had behaved better than the other towed cars. But didn’t. I knew the feeble attempt at humor wouldn’t have been received well.
And yet I was proud of my car. it looked cleaner and not like an automotive miscreant like many of the others. “C’mon,” I said. “Let’s get you out of here. You don’t belong in this place. I’ve sprung you.”
And I grinned to myself. Which just goes to show you if you do somethign stupid and try to deflect attention from it by making other people laugh and that doesn’t work. You still have yourself to laugh at yourself. It works. And sounds so silly trying to explain it will help you laugh even louder at yourself until you no longer are mad at yourself.
Of course it helps if you have your same sense of humor. ; )
ST. LOUIS • Former political adversaries Jeff Smith and Rod Jetton sat at a long table at Pi Pizzeria on Delmar next to a stack of crisp softcover books, scrawling their signatures and chatting with a couple dozen patrons lined up around them.
On the menu was complimentary deep-dish pizza, soft drinks and humility.
“Hopefully, people can learn from the mistakes I made,” said Smith, whose preprison political talents were once compared to those of Barack Obama. “Really smart people learn from other people’s mistakes.”
Next to him, Jetton — in that retro-political fashion statement, the seersucker suit — explained how his own politics have changed as a result of his downfall. “I’m not near as judgmental,” said the one-time most powerful conservative in the Missouri House. “You make as many mistakes as I have, it’s hard to be judgmental, right?”
Smith, a Democrat and former Missouri state senator, and Jetton, a Republican and former Missouri House speaker, each wrote a chapter in the new book, “The Recovering Politician’s Twelve Step Program to Survive Crisis.”
Click here to order
Smith served almost a year in prison after lying to federal investigators about an anonymous smear campaign in his unsuccessful 2004 run for Congress against Russ Carnahan. Smith, now an assistant professor at the New School for Public Engagement in New York, penned a chapter in the book aptly titled, “Tell the Truth: Don’t Even Go Near the Line.”
Smith’s lie collapsed when his “former best friend” wore a wire at the behest of investigators. In the book, Smith recounts telling his parents he might go to prison.
“My mom’s lips quivered. ‘I knew it from the start. Knew you’d get mixed up in something like this. I tried to tell you what politics was like.’
“My dad … asked, ‘How do they even know you lied? What proof could they have?’
“‘Steve’s been wearing a wire for the last couple months.’
“‘That (expletive),’ said my dad.”
Read the rest of… For Missouri politicians gone bad, redemption over pizza
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Aug 9, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
I’m thinking of suing my tailor under the Dram Shop Act
A good lawyer, I’ve always been told, is one who can effectively use precedent from one area of the law and apply it by analogy to a new area of the law.
This morning at the coffee… shop I saw the gentlemen who has for years sold me clothing at Jos Banks. Not only does he sell me my clothes but he measures me and suggests the exact alternations for each article of clothing I buy that needs alternation. Over the course of the past 5 years I’ve probably spent $1000 on alterations alone.
And here’s the rub.
Under The Dram Shop Act (most states have such laws), the owner of an establishment selling liquor has a responsibility to its patrons not to serve them alcohol after they are clearly intoxicated. Most states allow for recovery when the defendant owner knew (or should have known) the customer was intoxicated but continues to serve him alcohol anyway.
Now, back to my Jos Banks example. For 5 continuous years I have advised the tailor NOT to let out my waistline as much as he suggests I should because “I’m going to lose 5-10 pounds and the pants will fit perfectly then.”
And for 5 years he was watched and this has never, ever happened. Yet he continues to give in to me even though I am essentially in an inebriated state of mind when it comes to projecting my weight loss and waistline. And inevitably I bring the pants back 3-6 months later and have the waistline taken out and pay another $10-$20.
Have any others ever been injured by this act of negligence? Not really, of course. Certainly nothing compared to the horrific accidents that can happen when excessive alcohol is involved. But I have been forced to pay double for every new pair of pants I buy to be altered not once but twice. And I think the store owner is taking advantage of my vanity, delusional perspective and aspirational thinking. And making me a danger to myself, at least where estimating my waistline for tailoring purposes are concerned.
There just has to be a remedy for this injustice. And Justice, after all, is symbolized by a blind woman holding out a scale. Demonstrating the importance of not taking advantage of people where scales are involved.
Book Review “Musings from the Middle” John Y Brown III ISBN 9781483907345 Published by The Recovering Politician 2013 Lexington, KY 365 pages
****
Four fortnights before his 50th birthday, John Y Brown III, with tongue in cheek and pen in hand, wryly and dryly ruminates about how many more “youthful” indiscretions he might fit in before it’s too late. Alas, it’s too late. He can’t think of any.
Brown’s new book “Musings from the Middle” (Lexington, KY July 2013) is a collection of insights and incites about the monumental and mundane events of every-day life.
Through scores of well-crafted essays, meditations, reflections and quips about family, technology, celebrities, food, travel, music, movies, and politics, Y 3 takes the reader on a life journey that includes details of his inept courtship plan upon meeting Rebecca, his future wife (he would give her his card and tell her to call him); the emotional ups and downs caused by his fluctuating KLOUT score; assaults upon his self-esteem based on a paucity of ‘likes’ on his business Facebook page; his ill-conceived strategy for backing up an iPhone with an iPhone (which he compares to “backing up a spare tire with a spare tire”); the liberating day of self-discovery when he removes “skiing” as his favorite sport from his Facebook profile when he suddenly realizes he has been skiing twice in the last 28 years; his personal victory over Demon Rum and his brash and brilliant revision to Friedrich Nietzche’s warning about the abyss (“if you stare long enough into the abyss it will wink at you and you will both giggle simultaneously”.)
While the author appears in every anecdote, the book is not about him– it is about us. Skillfully written with gentle humor and compassionate commiseration, the anecdotes catalogue the follies, foibles, delusions and illusions of the human condition as well as the victories and joys of being human.
John Y Brown III does not take himself too seriously. But his readers should. He is a thoughtful and thought-provoking essayist, a practical philosopher and wise man, armed with a disarming wit and, like Michel de Montaigne, graced with a humble personal motto: “ I’m not sure.”
Donald Vish is a Louisville lawyer, writer and photographer. He is president of Interfaith Paths to Peace and teaches Law and Literature at the University of Brandeis School of Law. He is a frequent contributing writer and reviewer for the Courier-Journal.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Aug 8, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
The paradoxes of our closest friendships.
Friendships are a delicate thing. More important than money, title, and prestige…at least we say that it is. Of course we don’t do as good a job of living as though close friendships were more im…portant than the fleeting worldly things we chase each day. But they are. And we eventually come to realize this, though usually much later in life than we want to admit.
And close friendships are, after all, worldly things, too. But they are much harder to make sense of, figure out, plan for, or predict than other worldly things. We don’t collect them like objects and categorize them into neat and sensible patterns.
Psychologists and sociologists have tried to find common traits we have with our closest friends and they have had some success at intellectually explaining aspects of the friendship process. But we still understand the whys and hows of friendship less than we do most other important matters of our daily life.
We can talk about our closest friends in generalities much easier than specifics. They touch something sacred in us that is uncomfortable to talk about. Maybe they see us as we really are. And see us as we want to be. And see us as we have been. And accept—perhaps even celebrate– all three.
Surely there is something transactional about our closest friendships. But try to describe it in 3 sentences. Or 33 sentences. Tough.
And so….and so….and so… I suppose our closest friendships– like the other most valuable things in our lives tend also to be– are better to be savored than rationalized. Better to be appreciated than analyzed into a pseudo-scientific formula. Better to be enjoyed more than explained.
I mention this because I was taken aback moments ago by the beautiful background in the Facebook profile of the wife of probably my dearest friend in this life. If I died tomorrow and had to fill out a form for the afterlife summarizing my life here, under “Name of Best Friend” I would probably write in John Bell.
John Bell and I have the same first name and a lot of quirky personal traits in common. But on paper we’d be hard pressed to make the second round in a Friendship Match.com System. John Bell doesn’t care much for politics and didn’t go to law or business school. He’s a licensed social worker and a darned good one along with many other talents and gifts –most of which deviate from mine. He doesn’t love to write and doesn’t care for public speaking. We like some of the same books and movies and music…but only a few.
In the picture above, John Bell is captured with a full beard standing in front of a glorious background in Patagonia, Chile where he went mountain climbing for several weeks last summer. John Bell knows me well enough to never bother to invite me on his annual mountain climbing treks. He knows me better than that. I don’t know what I was doing while John Bell was scaling mountain tops in Chile…but I can assure you it involved air conditioning, wifi, a laptop and nearby coffee shops. If I discussed Chile at all during those couple of weeks last summer it was the political economy of the country and pointing out how Chile is an example of free market principles flourishing in South America. Mountain climbing was not part of my conversations. I can’t even grow a full beard. Only small patches. John Bell and I are different like that too.
John showed me a few pictures from his Chile trip and I was awed. I showed him the chapter I wrote for a book recently and suspect he read it. He said he did and liked it–and I believe whatever he tells me. But those avocational interests in our lives aren’t what bind us together as friends either–any more than our vocational interests.
We met in high school and went through adolescence together…holding on to each other when our worlds were turning upside down and helping each other realize that neither was crazy. We were just teenagers. And we got through our 20s as friends. And 30s and 40s and soon both of us will be 50. And in all that time we hardly ever have discussed the worlds we work in or our most time consuming avocations, like mountain-climbing and politics.
We mostly talk about real stuff that goes deep. “How you doin’?” means much more coming from a close friend than a colleague at work. Answering that question alone may take an hour or more. And doesn’t leave time for the less substantial stuff like revenue projections or new client growth or even discussing where we are planning our next family vacation. That stuff just doesn’t seem that important by comparison. And not nearly as interesting as what we do discuss when we talk for a few moments here and a few moments there each week or two in our busy lives. But it’s talk that matters and is honest and inarticulate and from the heart and the gut– rather than fact-filled and goal oriented. It is subjective and personal and without an agenda or “action items.” It’s much more than words to communicate a task or simply information. Probably just the opposite, if there is such a thing.
And then we turn away from each other– after a brief hug—and return to our very different lives. But we keep coming back to that sacred place we have in common–called friendship.
