Lauren Mayer: WE HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR BUT FEAR ITSELF (The debate over marriage equality)

We all have our own irrational fears, based on an emotional response rather than facts.  Kids are afraid of monsters in the closet, phobics are afraid of spiders or the color red, single men are afraid of commitment, I’m afraid of cheerleaders – none of these things actually pose a threat, and we eventually either grow up, learn to move past our fears, or in the case of my husband, realize that being married is way more fun than he’d thought.

So with the Supreme Court preparing to hear cases related to gay marriage, it’s time to apply that same standard of rationality to the objections raised by opponents.  Gay marriage has been legal in Massachusetts since 2004 (as well as in many progressive states and countries, and frankly, we in California should be ashamed of ourselves for being less progressive than Iowa and Canada!).  Therefore, instead of vague fears, we can look at the actual effects on society in those locations – and guess what, absolutely nothing bad has happened.  The predictions of societal catastrophe, public fornication, gender confusion, and children behaving terribly have not come true – in fact, the divorce rate has declined in Mass, and experts predict we’ll see the same effect in other states once more data is in.  So one could argue that gay marriage is GOOD for society as a whole, not just for all those committed couples who are denied the legal protections we take for granted.  (Note – the way I convinced my previously commitment-phobic husband that we needed ‘just a piece of paper’ was to point out that our gay friends have to spend thousands of dollars in legal fees to get a fraction of the protection we could get for $50 and a quick trip to City Hall.)  (Although now I let him think the whole thing was his idea!)

There are so many real things in this world of which to be afraid – financial collapse, global warming, more Kardashian reality shows – so I believe it’s time for opponents of gay marriage to recognize that there is nothing to fear, and to go find something that actually justifies worrying.  And to help them along, here’s a song examining the evidence.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Identity Management Tool

Identity management tool

I was asked by Apple iTunes a question to confirm my identity and allow me access to my account

The identity question ?

What was the first album you purchased?

I answered–after considerable thought –Puff the Magic Dragon. It was 45 years ago but I remember it well.

But I was told “no” that wasn’t the album.

jyb_musingsHow do they know?

Can I find out from Apple what the album was I first purchased?

May be they will say the Monkees….but that was my second album.

I will call tomorrow to protest this block to my account and I will have affidavits from my mom and two sisters that, indeed, it was Puff the Magic Dragon.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: The Difference Between Guys and Dogs

The difference between guys and dogs.

When a dog catches a car it pauses and looks genuinely confused….and saunters off knowing he miscalculated the payoff and feeling foolish (even by dog standards).

When a guy catches the equivalent of a car he has been chasing (so to speak), he seems uncertain for a nanosecond and then immediately projects the image of someone positively thrilled with his capture, of knowing exactly what he was doing and what to expect, and poses as if to say, “Seriously folks, have you ever seen such brilliantly successful car chasing before ?  I didn’t think so.”

jyb_musingsAnd then before any sliver of doubt emerges begins looking for the next car to chase (figuratively speaking) –as his audience watches on approvingly.

Other than this distinction guys and dogs are otherwise very similar.

Woof!!

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: My Inner Superfly

Leave ’em speechless. My inner-Superfly. And vivid imagination:

Me: I really don’t think you would have sent that snarky text this morning if you’d known the truth about what song I’d just listened to.  That’s right. What song (and video) I had just listened to and watched. And was feeling. Superfly! Curtis Mayfield.  Uh-huh. That’s right!

Texter: I’m sorry Mr Brown. I didn’t know.

Me: You’re sorry alright. Don’t text me in that sarcastic tone ever again.

Texter: I won’t, sir. I swear.

I love cool comebacks that I have with others during imaginary conversations I have in my head.

Sure, it’s not quite the same as if I actually said it during an actual conversation to an actual person. But it still sends a message. Maybe a message no one but me is aware of. But it sends a message to me that I’m not as important or feeble as I feel at the moment.

jyb_musingsAnd, yeah, I’m pretty good at it, too. Like Yogi Berra said, “It ain’t braggin’ if you done it.” And I do have a lot of great comebacks that shut down rude people in their tracks. (Imaginary comebacks in imaginary conversations with imaginary people).

But as these fantasy conversations go, they are impressive, and plentiful, and I always get the last word. Leaving my rivals speechless and ashamed–and hopefully a little wiser the next time they find themselves in an imaginary conversation with me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cmo6MRYf5g

The First Funny Moment on Jay Leno Since…Ever?

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Deep Reflective Personal Questions

Warning: Deep reflective personal questions can sometimes lead to an existential crisis–that moment you begin questioning the point and meaning of life and wonder if either exist for you or the world we live in.

It happened to me today.

I asked myself a ponderous question that everyone–eventually–probably wonders about themselves:

“If I were an iPhone app, what category would I be listed under? (See list below)

• Books

• Business

• Catalogs

• Education

• Entertainment

• Finance

• Food & Drink

• Games

• Health & Fitness

• Lifestyle

• Medical

• Music

• Navigation

jyb_musings• News

• Photo & Video

• Productivity

• Reference

• Social Networking

• Sports

• Travel

• Utilities

• Weather

And that’s when the existential crisis set in. There’s like over 20 iPhone categories!

And yet…..and yet…not one of them fit me.

I felt like the hole in the donut. The odd man out. The outlier. The runt. The defective toy. The ….well, you get the idea.

Does life have meaning? Is there a point to life? Even if you can’t easily imagine yourself fitting neatly into any one “life” category if you were an iPhone app?

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Live Fast, Die Young, Don’t Take Parking Advice

“Live Fast. Die Young. Don’t take helpful parking advice.”
(Rebel without a cause….Just rebelling for rebellion’s sake.)

Ah, c’mon. Sure you do. Most of us have a deep down core spark of defiance in us that makes no sense. It’s part of what makes us cherish independence as Americans. We are a nation of immigrants whose ancestors were willing to sail across oceans to to come to America to be free and we take our freedoms seriously.

We are a nation of independent minded risk takers and entrepreneurs who want to be allowed to do our own thing and subscribe to Ben Franklin’s motto, “Don’t tread on me.”

But sometimes can take them too seriously—and even turn into a silly defiance that is taken to an absurd and pointless extreme. And that is not a helpful or enviable trait to have.

What does that look like? I’m afraid I may have inadvertently found out myself yesterday while joking with a friend. Because joking, you know, isn’t always 100% joking. It’s usually at least 10% true, which is what makes the absurd distortion funny. There is a grain of truth to it.

And sometimes it’s 15% true. Or even 50%.

jyb_musingsYesterday I was running late to meet a friend who was working with a new firm and he wanted me to meet with the firm and see if there were any opportunities to work together on something in the future.

To help me not waste more time since I was having trouble finding the location, I got a call when I was two minutes away helpfully explaining to me to “Park in the back. We are in the back so don’t park in the front.”

I arrived and, as you can imagine where this is going, I was seized with the same urge in me that causes me to “walk on the grass” and “touch wet paint” when I see signs telling me not to. Part curiosity, I tell myself, but certainly part rebel. And so I parked in the front. I tried going in several doors but none—surprise, surprise!—led to my friend’s firm. I called him and asked again for directions to the office explaining in golf language, “I’m on the green but don’t want to four putt.”

I walked all the way around the building, found the office and had a nice meeting. When I left my friend walked me to my car….And I kept walking and walked through the grass and mud as we had to walk around the hill on the side of the building to get back to my car which I parked in the “front” instead of the back as I was helpfully advised.

My friend started laughing and asked, “Did you really still park in the front? Even after I told you it was a pain to walk up here to the backside of the building?” It was a rhetorical question but I took the bait and thought I would have some fun trying to explain my inexplicable decision.

I went on a faux rant saying, “Look man, yeah, you told me where to park. But I’m 49 years old. Don’t you think I know how to park at my age? What are trying to say to me by talking to me that way? Do you think I’m an idiot or something? And, yeah, I interpreted the advice as you trying to control me. I don’t like being held down like that and controlled. I was sending a message by parking in the front against your advice. C’mon man, I’m not your monkey. I don’t roll that way. I park on my terms where I want to park for my own reasons and you need to get OK with that. Don’t be cramping my style by trying to micromanage everything about my life, like where I park.”

We were both laughing at the absurd childish rant I was pretending to have…and said goodbye. And as I drove off, I realized that about 50% of what I said (as a joke)—deep, deep down in my murky inchoate psyche—was had a trace (or more than a trace) of truth to it. Wow! And completely ridiculous. But there it is. And something I need to consciously battle against in areas of my life that are more consequential than deciding where to park.

So, my commitment to myself. Next time someone offers me helpful parking instructions, I am going to take them up on it. Maybe not ever detail but as a general matter if I am told to park in the back, I will at least park in the back or on the side of the road and not in the front. And tell myself that it doesn’t make me a “sell out….to ‘the man'” if I do that.

It will just make me 5 minutes earlier and keep me from getting mud on my shoes.

Lauren Mayer: The Super Bowl Of Gay Rights

Being from the San Francisco area, I was one of many locals horrified by Chris Culliver’s homophobic remarks last week (about how he’d never play with a gay team-mate – “We dont got no gay people on the team. You know, they gotta get up out of here if they do.  Can’t be with that sweet stuff”)  And being the daughter of a former English teacher, I was one of many writers almost as equally horrified by his mangling of the language.

But the reaction he prompted was incredibly reassuring.  Of course the 49ers organization condemned his remarks – they know their market! – but plenty of other NFL players chimed in, offering their support for gay rights and marriage equality.  Seemingly overnight, becauase of one fairly idiotic remark, the homophobia that has long been ingrained in sports culture seems to be dissolving.

Frankly, I never understood sports homophobia – events involving large numbers of incredibly buff young men running around a court or field, jumping, chasing, and tackling each other, is about as homo-erotic as anything not x-rated.  And while I don’t expect most teams to dump end-zone prayers for group performances of YMCA, it sure does seem like the overall climate has changed.  Sure, a few neanderthals are sputtering about the horrors (“what’s next, people marrying their horses?”), but it’s hard to dispute the fact that public opinion is shifting.  Who knows whether it’s because of Will & Grace, or because Idaho and New England haven’t suddenly gone beserk (no pet marriages yet!), but I for one am thrilled.  (I am a card-carrying Jewish mother, so naturally I’m still hoping that one of my sons turns out gay, so he’ll never replace me with another woman and I’ll have a shopping pal.)

So here’s a new ‘fight song,’ in honor of the welcome changes within the sports community:

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Rock, Roll & Something Different

Why it is important to pay attention to detail –and spelling. And album covers.
Because the song doesn’t remain the same. Or even similar.

I was 17 and on a date with my high school buddy Maronda Buchta (now McKinney) and we were going to a rock concert –Rush.

We met early and had lots of time to kill and had listened to the latest Rush album enough times we already knew more about Tom Sawyer than we’d ever imagined.

So I suggested we swing by a record store off Shelbyville road and pick up the album by “That Neil guy” and added “You know. Who sings Cinnamon Girl. From the movie Rust Never Sleeps.”

Maronda was easy going and agreed. So I walked into the record store and asked for the two best cassettes they could recommend by the big rock star “Neil ….Neil something…”
The sales clerk and manager scurried to the back and grabbed two cassette tapes which didn’t seem quiet right when I glanced at them. but I didn’t want to debate and just said I’ll take them both and spent my last few dollars and was out the door.

jyb_musingsWe pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Freedom Hall. I had already furiously opened the cassettes outside the store and threw away the box and receipt.
And as we began cruising downtown I asked Maronda to put in the “Neil guy …the, uh, ummm, Neil. What did the sales clerk say his last name was? Oh yeah. Neil Diamond!”
Maronda looked deeply wounded and concerned for me. And speaking in what seemed like painfully slow motion, she explained”Neil Diamond doesn’t sing Cinnamon Girl.” And then started laughing hysterically at me, which people were wont to do then (and now).

Neil D had looked hip enough on the album cover to sing a few Neil Young songs —but Neil never sought that role and was never comfortable in it.
And after scouring both cassettes unsuccessfully for the the song Cinnamon Girl, I gave up and slipped in the cassette .

Has anyone ever chosen to listen to Song Sung Blue to pump yourself up before a concert? I have and it didn’t work well. I like Neil Diamond just fine but not before Rush concert. After all, Neil Young and Neil Diamond are as different as Cinnamon Girl and Cinnamon Butter.

And to this day, 32 years later, I still check 2 or 3 times when selecting to buy or listen to music by Neil Young.

===

steelySteely Dan versus Nicki Minaj —and my curmudgeonly moment.

My favorite band is Steely Dan. And that makes me lucky. Steely Dan emerged during my generation and creates gorgeous music with clever lyrics that have substance and meaning. But mostly they create extraordinary music that sweeps you away in the magical way that only great music can do.

So who is unlucky with music? At the risk of sounding old and crusty, I think today’s younger generation are being shortchanged. Too much of the music is mere shock and gimmickry. It reminds me of a stand-up comedian who has material that isn’t funny and elicits laughs by using over-the-top crude language. The weaker the material, the cruder the language becomes–until you eventually have merely a string of expletives that are barely held together by the semblance of a humorous story.

An unfortunate amount of the most popular music today seems to be similarly crafted. Instead of going for the cheap laugh, they go for the cheap lyric (that’s really not even a lyric at all). It’s musical but not really music. It’s edgy but too often empty—void of meaning. It’s catchy but not clever. It’s crude rather than creative. Today’s music doesn’t flow smoothly and transport us to a better place but rather stuns us with sounds that seem more like bullets that never hit their target yet were fired in anger.

I know I am vastly over-generalizing. But that’s something older people get to do. Young people have hip lingo. Older people get to rif generally without being a slave to the detail expected of younger writers and thinkers. No doubt about it, there is great music being created by the younger generation. But there’s too much what I’ll call Nicki Minaj “Did it on ’em” tirades that I dare call music.

Steely Dan and the music of my earlier generation is created by bands who love music and were drawn to music for what it could do to make life not only more bearable but more enjoyable. Today’s bands often seem like an unrepentant “Id”, as Freud called it, creating techno sounds reflecting uncoordinated instincts shouted in frustration—music that aims more at venting than creating. Its highest form of meaning may well be cathartic—leaving behind lyrics it’s hard to imagine will be appreciated 20 years from now.

Which brings me back to my point about sounding old and crusty. But remember, music teaches us that things aren’t always what they sound like. Maybe I’m not old and crusty then– but a little saddened that today’s musicians don’t ask more of themselves. And disappointed to see the magic that music can be to each generation diminished just a little and it’s raw and natural power ignored in favor of something different and, I contend, cheaper.

One of the many Steely Dan songs I never tire of is FM. A song about the shift from AM radio in the 1970s with the refrain “No static at all”, which symbolized the move to FM. And yet much of the music offered up today seems to celebrate static and, in terms of its persona, seems better suited for AM. Another is Caves of Altimira. I heard the song for the first time while in college and was drawn in by its irresistibly compelling sound. And after a while came to appreciate the lyrics and learned what they meant.

It was through a Steely Dan song that I learned about the famous cave in Spain with vivid and colorful cave paintings featuring drawings and paintings of wild mammals and Paleolithic humans. All set to a mellifluous saxophone solo that allowed me to escape into my curiosity and connected me with my past.

When’s the last time you can say something like that about a recent pop song?

 

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: What If “Breaking Bad” Was About Shoes?

A kinder, gentler Breaking Bad?

I love this series but it can be over-the-top with fringe plot developments and crazy characters as the mild mannered former high school chemistry teacher, Walter White, becomes a successful meth dealer.

I was wondered the other night what it might look like if Breaking Bad had been written with a more mainstream and gentler, kinder theme. Maybe call it, “Veering incautiously” instead of the rogue sounding “Breaking Bad.” And instead of making Walter White an ever-hardening meth dealer, write a more mainstream method for handling his personal crisis. What if, for example, instead of cooking and selling meth, Walter instead became a celebrated shoe cobbler (selling custom made and hand crafted suede shoes that become very popular in some circles)?

jyb_musingsSure the series may have a different feel and tone, but would it also be more plausible? Would it widen potential audience appeal since more people can identify with shoe-makers than meth dealers?

Here’s a video clip giving us a peek of what this series might have looked like as Walter sells a pair of blue suede shoes to internationally known shoe fashion designer Tuco Salamanaca. (Just imagine shoes and not methamphetamine is being transacted in this scene.) Tuco is renown for his exacting taste and relentless drive for perfection in his shoe line. Despite being skeptical about Walter at first—and being obviously flustered that the shoes he tries on are too “tight” —Tuco is still won over by Walter’s attention to detail and skilled craftsmanship. In fact, so much so, Tuco buys them on the spot (even though they are an unusual “blue” shade) and suggests future purchases for his shoe line in pink and yellow.

But there is still the critical question, Would the series work as well with Walter as shoe cobbler —or is something lost.

Warning: Foul language even though we are pretending they are talking about shoe design.

But remember, the high end shoe market is a brutally competitive business. So this scene may not be too far off the mark. ; )

The Recovering Politician Bookstore

     

The RP on The Daily Show