Don't Want To Be An American Idiot

Well, for years and years we've been hearing about how American students score down around the bottom of the international barrel in math and science, and it looks like the chickens have finally come home to roost. No wait, before you start labeling me an anti-american reactionary just let me explain myself and what I'm talking about. I'm talking about Social Security reform.

Yeah, I know, I know, just reading the words 'Social Security' is enough to make most people hit that back button and look for another blog to browse, but I think it's worth talking about if only to illustrate just how math deficient we've become in this country today.

Here's what I mean.

As I understand it, we've currently got a Social Security program where working people contribute a portion of their earnings into a large pool of money that retired and disabled people can draw benefits out of it. Then, when those working people get ready to retire they will take their turn and draw benefits funded by the contributions of younger workers, just as those younger workers will someday live off the contributions made by the even younger workers that follow, and so forth and so forth, etc..., etc..., etc...

Now that's a great system so long as there are enough workers entering and contributing to the system to support those leaving and drawing their benefit. Trouble is that's not happening today, and it looks like the poor old Social Security system is going to run out of money around the year 2042. So, with that in mind, here comes the president's plan - The PSA, or Personal Savings Account.

The PSA is also called a privatization plan because under the proposal workers will contribute 10% less into the Social Security pool, and take that 10% they are saving and give it to high-commission, high-fee financial advisors who will then invest that money for them and earn far better returns on that money (before commissions, fees and expenses, of course) than they could have gotten had they let it to rot away in the current broken down Social Security system. That sounds pretty good but I think there's something wrong with the math.

Let's review, shall we?

We have a pile of money. The pile of money is shrinking because there isn't enough money coming into the pool to cover the money going out of the pool. So, according to the president, to fix the situation you simply reduce the amount of money going into the pool by 10%. Now I was educated in America so you'll please excuse me if my math skills aren't quite up to world standards, but if the pile is shrinking because not enough money is coming in and you decrease the amount of money coming in, won't the pile get even smaller? I know that can't be right because the president wouldn't propose something so mathematically 'challenged', but it seems to me if you want to save the pile then you have to decrease the amount of money going out, not coming in. But then I've never been very good at math.

Or could it be, might it be, say, wait a minute, you don't think this is some kind of political smoke screen, do you? You don't think the president is trying to dazzle us with visions of stock market riches just to conceal the fact that he's really just setting us up for drastic cuts in benefits? No, why would he do that? Just so he could deliver some fresh meat to those fat-cats over on Wall Street, a few tens of millions more fish to fry. No, that can't be right.

No, of course not. He's doing it because he knows that we the people are much savier, much more prudent when it comes to our money than those bureaucrats over in Washington. At least that's what he's said, and you know it's true. Why just think about it. I can't remember all the times Grandma Jean, Aunt Velma and I sat down on the porch discussing the best strategies for optimizing our portfolios, can you?

"Long term corporates" I remember Grandma saying.

"Oh, heavens no" Aunt Velma would reply, "not in this interest rate environment. I'd be hedging if I were you. Buy some puts and short the financials."

Then Uncle Barney would walk by.

"Honey bees", Uncle Barney would butt in, "that's the future. I heard this fella on the radio say in a couple of years the world's gonna run out of honey. Said 'buy honey bees' and in a few years you'll just watch that money roll in."

"Oh for goodness sake Barney, the world ain't gonna run out of honey. Who ever heard of such a thing?"

"Fella on the radio said so. Said that terrorists were secretly targeting beehives and killing off all the bees. Said in another couple of years there wouldn't be any of 'em left. Said now was the time to start buying bees cause they're cheap and in another couple of years they were gonna be worth their weight in gold."

"And how do you know" Aunt Velma would ask "if you bought those bees that the terrorists wouldn't come and kill you?"

"Hmmm, didn't think of that" he'd say." Still got my old 12 gauge, though. Yes sir, still got that. Guess if any terrorists come around a couple of blasts of buckshot ought to make 'em think twice. Guess they won't be wantin' to mess with my bees anymore. No I guess they won't want to do that, will they?"

"Ok, Barney, whatever you say. Why don't you go back in the house now and get ready for them terrorists. Me and Grandma Jean got to get back to our discounted cash-flow projections."

Anyways, that's how the president's going to save Social Security. Now it's up to Congress to do the math and contrast it with the democrats plan which I call "Problem? What problem? I don't see a problem here. Why are you trying to scare everybody." Unfortunately the democrats aren't any better at math than any of the rest of us, at least not on figuring out how the system is going to remain solvent when we reach the point where we have 2 workers contributing for every 1 retiree drawing benefits. Hey, no problem.

But rather than just criticize I think it's high-time I offered a few solutions of my own, don't you? Well it just so happens that I have some.

The first thing to do, as I see it, is attack the revenue portion of the equation. In other words, get more money flowing into the system. To achieve that I propose of a 'lobby' tax. In other words, a simple flat tax on all the campaign contributions and perks that Washington lobbyists so generously lavish on our representatives in Congress. I mean if we can't get rid of them then we might as well tax them, right? Of course we should and I think something like a 50% tax going directly into the Social Security fund ought to raise a couple of trillion dollars, at least. That in itself would be enough to pay for the president's reform.

However, I'm not naive enought to think that just increasing the revenue stream will be enough to save Social Security. No, to go along with the tax I'm also proposing cuts to the expense side of the ledger as well - what I call the 'Celebrex' plan. Again, a simple proposal to give massive dosages of 'Celebrex' to all our seniors over the age of 62 and then sort of let Darwinism take care of the rest. A brilliant idea if I do say so myself that would have the twofold benefit of reducing the size of the outlays from the system as well as answering the question, once and for all, if Celebrex is really as safe to use as Pfizer says it is.

Yep, increase revenues, cut expenses and Social Security will be solvent. At least I think so. You do the math.

Are You Experienced?

Have you ever heard of Rod Blagojevich? He's the governor who's trying to criminalize the sale of violent and sexually explicit videogames to minors in the state of Illinois. A noble cause, no doubt, but unfortunately a noble cause which makes it abundantly clear that we have a serious digital divide in this country today. And by digital divide I am not talking about the economic gap between the haves and the have-nots, but rather the divide between the clued and the totally clueless.

Not that it's a bad idea, mind you. I certainly don't subscribe to the idea that kids should decide what is and what isn't appropriate for them to have. It's just that the governor seems to belong to that select and rapidly aging population of people (or should I say generation of people?) who just don't seem to realize how much the world has changed and how far the technology has come. Digital content, all those little bits and bytes that encode so much of the data that people consume these days, doesn't know anything about state boundaries, or municipal boundaries, or county lines or even national borders. Digital content just flows naturally. It courses over the internet, nests cozily on CD's and flash memory cards, and is quite happy to make its home without regard to age, race or religion on any computer that happens to offer a friendly operating environment.

Doesn't the governor realize that? Don't any of the legislators or any of the corresp0ndents who reported this story realize that you can't ban bits? I wonder, for instance, if the governor has ever been to suprnova.org and downloaded a bitTorrent file? I'd say the odds are pretty slim. The odds that anyone in the Illinois state legislature has ever installed the eDonkey client and done any p-to-p sharing are equally slim, and the odds are positively microscopic that Brian or Dan or Peter (or Jim or Margaret or Ray, for that matter) has ever traded any warez over IRC or browsed through a Usenet group looking to violate someone's copyright.

Too bad, because if they had then they would realize the files they seek to ban are readily available through a number of different channels. Just go to suprnova.org and look through the hundreds and hundreds of games, movies, cd's and more that are listed in its directories. It's almost funny because if the governor did happen to browse through the listings he might be shocked to find that a cracked version of 'JFK Reloaded' (the game he says inspired him to institute this ban) is there for the taking by any 10, 11 or 12 year old curious enough to make the effort to download it. No parental consent or even money necessary.

What this legislation really shows, I think, is the enormous knowledge gap that exists between ignorant, serious-minded adults and their digitally savvy kids. You just have to wonder how any group of people can ever hope to be effective role models and leaders on technology when they are so far behind. I mean it's not like Napster or Morpheus or any of the other digital avenues that have opened up are anything new.

No, to be so ignorant you have to want to be ignorant. You have to want to bury your head in the sand and only be dimly aware of the changes that are happening all around you. And I can understand that, in a way. I know I tend to be a little old-fashioned myself. Sure, River City was backward and ignorant, but it was also wholesome and pure and the type of place where a fella' and his sweetheart could go down by the footbridge on a hot summer night for a little moonlight romance. But we all know that if the world was ever like that, it's not like that anymore.

So what do we do about these videogames? Well I'll tell ya', I don't know. I used to be a very avid videogamer in my younger days and all I can say is that the games have changed a lot since then. Now all I can do is look down from my ivory tower on these misshapen youth and wonder, just like everybody else, what the hell is going on. I do have this theory, though, and that is that there is just too much media these days. Too much TV, too much radio, too much videogaming - and these kids are getting pretty bored with it all. As a result the media moguls and content providers find that they have to go further and further over the edge to get the same response. I think they call it 'Extreme' and you see it in everything from 'Extreme Sports' to 'Extreme' TV to 'Extreme' Videogames.

How else are you going to be heard over all the noise?

What I do know is that a ban will never work. Everyone likes to say that better parenting is the answer, but how can that happen when the parents are just as clueless as the politicians and the nightly newscasters and all the others who seem so hopelessly out of step. No, I think first you've got to understand what you're dealing with, then you've got to decide if it's really a problem, and only when you've done all that can you begin to think about an answer. In the meantime, I'd say there are some people out there who have some catching up to do.

And that means you, Governor Blagojevich.

Ode On A Japanese Rice Cracker

It's a strange and wonderful world, and in all the world I don't think you'll find anyone stranger than the japanese. I know, I know, many will not agree and insist that their family and their ancestors are the strangest, but being half-japanese myself I can testify right here and now that no one does weird like the japanese do weird.

Take, for instance, the japanese rice cracker. There is nothing remarkable about this little treat and I'm sure you've seen them before. They are small and crunchy, usually with some kind of soy flavoring and often with little belts of dried seaweed wrapped around their bellies (what we call norimake arare). I admit to eating more than my share of them over the years and so it was only natural that I should pick up a box today while I was down at the local japanese grocery store.

Nothing unusual in that, certainly nothing worth blogging about, but then the strangeness appeared as I was looking at one particularly attractive tin of crackers all packaged and ready for the holidays, and spied these immortal words inscribed on the front panel:

"Women's History Never Ceases to Yearn for Beauty" it said for no apparent reason, and then said nothing more.

How deeply heartfelt, I thought, and not the sort of sentiment you usually find on a box of crackers, but why anyone would put such poetry on their holiday tins? Well, I couldn't tell you, but for a people who seem to make an art of everything from raw fish to flower arranging it seemed only natural and, well, japanese.

So all day today I've had this expression rattling around in my head. "Women's History Never Ceases to Yearn for Beauty" it echoes, like a bad dream or some stupid little jingle you can't stop humming. But at the same time I felt inspired - instead of the same old 'Happy Holiday' or 'Best Wishes And A Happy New Year' this company tried to say something different, even if I'm not exactly sure what they said.

And then I thought "What a great idea for a Christmas card". You know, don't send out of one of those family histories that people are always sending and no one gives a damn about. Give out a card that not only speaks of the holidays, but of rice crackers and women's history as well. To show you what I mean I've included a sample template to get you started. Simply cut and paste it into your favorite desktop publishing application and add your own little message inside, and then just wait for the hugs and kisses from that special little sweetheart of yours when he/she opens this card on Christmas Day.

----------------cut here-------------------------


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Oh, and if I happen to forget, Merii Kurisumasu everybody.

And Now For The Technology News...

The TIVO is a wonderful thing. You watch the shows you want to watch when you want to watch them and you can pause and fast-forward through commercials and all that other good stuff. I've had my TIVO for about 3 years now and it's certainly one of those technologies that once you have it you never want to give it up.

But that's old news and I certainly didn't come here tonight to talk about TIVO. What I do want to talk about, though, is Audiofeast. Sure Audiofeast has been around a while, but even though it's not anything new it's still not nearly as well known as its TIVO brethren. If you don't know what Audiofeast is let me briefly explain. It's an internet service (website, if you will) that allows members to download pre-recorded audio to their PC's and MP3 players. They offer such things as music channels and shows from NPR, PRI and a similar content providers. They have a free client that you download and install on your PC and a free 'basic service' subscription that you can use to sample their content. If you want content beyond the basics then they charge a subscription of around $3.00 to $5.00 dollars per month.

That's Audiofeast in a nutshell, and as I see it there are 2 major problems with the service as it currently exists. The first is that their music channels support only 2 MP3 players. That means that out of the dozens of MP3 players available right now, only 2 will work with their music service. Now, these happen to be fine players but neither one is exactly a market leader, and the vast majority of people who don't own either of these players are just plain out of luck, particularly the millions of IPod owners out there. Clearly there needs to be more player support here.

The second and more serious problem, however, is the lack of content. Sure, they've got most of the music genres covered but their NPR and other offerings are pretty slim. I can get Marketplace (a good thing) but no Car Talk or Terri Gross (a very bad thing), and the offerings beyond NPR and PRI are pretty spotty. I've got to admit I've never really felt it worth my while to pony up the subscription price just to get access to the 'Haunted History' show from the History Channel or 'American Chopper' from the Discovery Channel.

But despite the problems and the dubious prospects for it's long term survival, Audiofeast is very interesting because it offers a real glimpse into what I think is the future of radio - a future so obvious that I can't think why none of the great technological brains out there haven't hashed it out. After all, the promise of Audiofeast is audio content you want when you want it. You don't have to be at your radio at 3:00 in the afternoon to catch your favorite show, you don't have to buy a subscription or specialized equipment to listen to your favorite satellite station, all you have to do is tell Audiofeast (or a company like Audiofeast) what programs you want to record or what kind of music you want to listen to, and the software and the servers and the hi-speed connections do the rest. Now, if you could do that easily and inexpensively then who wouldn't want that?

The problem, of course, is that most people listen to the radio in their cars, and before any kind of audio revolution could happen there would have to be some way to get that content onto the car radio. But then, there already is, isn't there? In fact if you stop to think about it there are multiple ways to get the content onto the car radio. All you need are the kinds of car radios that can read, store and playback digital music.

The most obvious solution and the one that has already been tried is to build radios that can play back both regular audio CD's as well as data CD's full of MP3 files. Unfortuantely this requires a person to download the audio and then burn it to a CD, which is more work than most people want to do on a daily basis.

Another approach is to combine the car radio and the MP3 player into a sort of hybrid device that is like a radio with a hard drive. With such a device all you need to do is remove a cartridge-like hard drive from your car stereo, connect it to your PC via the USB port and then copy the content directly to the hard drive from your PC. When you are through you merely pop the hard drive back into your car stereo and you're set to go. The problem here, however, is that hard drives are not well-suited to the conditions found in most moving vehicles, particularly the shakes and bumps of the road and the extreme heat that can build up inside during the summertime.

A far better and simpler approach and the one no one has thought of as far as I can tell would be to build a memory card reader into the car stereo instead of a hard drive. As you know memory cards are far sturdier than hard drives and would be much better suited to the demands of a car-based system. Furthermore, thanks to the digital photography revolution most people are probably more comfortable working with memory cards than they would be with swapping hard drives in and out. Memory card readers are also small and compact, and the memory cards themselves are widely available in stores and on the internet.

The d0wnside to using memory cards is that they could not hold as much content as a hard drive, but I wonder how much content you really need to carry around with you in your car. I saw a gigabyte Compactflash card advertised for under $100 today, and a card like that should give a person at least 10 hours worth of audio content. More than enough to get most people through the day.

One other approach to getting the content into the car is add networking capabilities (most likely wireless) to the car stereo, making the car just another location on your home network. That would work but I think would still be beyond the capabilites of a lot of people out there. Maybe not, but the memory card seems much easier and is a technology that most people already know how to use.

However it's done, though, I think the combination of something like Audiofeast with the car stero would fundamentally change the entire radio business. Why wouldn't it? Like I said before, why wouldn't you want to be able to choose what you listen to on the radio if it could be cheaply and easily done? In fact if I was Clear Channel or Sirius or XM Radio I might be more than a little concerned. Just because Audiofeast hasn't been able to execute on this idea doesn't mean someone else won't come along and make it work. In fact I'd count it because it just makes so much sense.

But then, my predictions are usually wrong, or at least premature. I gotta tell ya' though, this isn't some future technology, and all that's needed is for someone to come along and put together the pieces.

And it would change everything.

The Secret Life of a News Junkie

"Don't go, Kimberly. Stay here with me. "

"No, no, I can't...It's too dangerous. If the insurgents find us there's no telling what they might do. We must go now."

"No one will find us. No one will hurt us as long as we have each other. Don't you know that? Can't you feel the passion burning inside? We'll be safe here. No one will come. It's just you and me."

"Oh, I want to stay. Really I do. If this were some other time, some other place...just hold me...hold me and tell me it'll be alright."

"I'll never let them hurt you. You know that. You'll be safe with me."

"I feel safe with you. I ..."

(BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!)

Alright, alright, shut up already. Damn alarm clock! Oh man, and I was having a great dream too. Me and Kimberly Dozier...I've had that dream before , but this time I almost...oh, nevermind. Something about a beautiful woman in a flak jacket, in a hostile land, surrounded by danger, that just gets inside a man and stirs him all up. Oh well, time to get blogging.

(Why couldn't I have slept just 10 more minutes longer? Damn, that dream was getting good.)

So what about these kids today, huh? That's always a good topic for a blog. I mean, where do they get their money? Designer clothes, fancy cellphones, $500.00 Ipods, where do they get the cash to pay for all this stuff? I tell ya', when I was a kid we had hand-me-downs, and transistor radios, and if you wanted to SMS someone you went over to them and tapped them on the shoulder. But these kids today, geez, they think that money just grows on trees.

Actually, they don't think money grows on trees, they just think that buying something isn't the same thing as paying for it. Not when you have credit cards, at least. I wonder whoever gave them that crazy idea? Yeah, you're right, I know who gave them that idea - George W. Bush. Just today I saw him on TV telling the nation how we're going reform Social Security and we're not going to pay for it. That's what I like about ol' dubya, just keep things simple. I like some of his other policies too, like "We're going to fight a war and we're not going to pay for it" or "We're going to protect the homeland but we're not going to pay for it". Consistency is the key, and he sure is consistent.

"Perhaps you could meet me in the bar later for a drink."

"Sorry, I don't date weird men. "

"No, you don't understand. I'm not weird...not really. The weirdness is just a mask I use to disguise my despondency and antipathy for all that is base and corrupt, all that is malevolent and lying, all that is venal, villanous and wicked in this wanton and depraved gutter of perversity and turpitude that we call planet earth."

"Then you're really a reporter? Like me?"

"No. Wretched, yes...cynical, yes...but not a reporter."

"Oh, I see. "

"Kimberly, don't be frightened. Here among all this death and ruin, if it's still possible to hope, if it's still possible to believe in anything, believe in me now. Believe in this moment, this one true thing, the only true thing that has any meaning in this faithless, godless world."

"No, it's useless, and yet I feel..."

So I was looking at the car ads in the classifieds today for no particular reason, and it sort of dawned on me as I was looking at the price of one of those German luxury models that, y0u know, I could afford that. I mean, I'm not rich or anything, but if I was to sell off some of my mutual funds I could go down to the dealership and hand over that kind of cash for some fancy-shmancy car with automatic this and leather that and all the other doodads they're putting into cars these days.

But why?

I live in Silicon Valley and believe me I see plenty of people driving around in their 60, 70, 80 thousand dollar cars and I always wonder " Can they really afford that or are they just trying to impress me?", and if they're trying to impress me, why? Just once I'd like to see them up there on the Suze Orman show and see if they really have it all together like they pretend they do. Believe me, Suze would get to the bottom of it.

"Hello, Suze, my name is Penny. I'm a 36 year old woman making $50,000 a year with $2,345,000 in auto loans and credit card debt. My question is should I be paying off the debt or starting a savings account instead?"

"Well, Penny, Ive got to tell you. If I were you I'd got out in the backyard and hang myself."

(No, no, no, I'm just kidding. Suze Orman would never say that. Sylvia Plath might, but not Suze Orman. Actually, Suze would start psychoanalyzing. )

"Tell me Penny, why do you think you have all this debt? Isn't it true that you have all this debt because you're foster parents sold you to a Mexican prostitution ring when you were 4 years old, and now you're trying to make up for your feelings of abandonment by buying things you can't afford?"

"Yes, it's true. Oh Suze, I just feel like I'm sinking further and further and there's no way to get out."

Yeah, get some of these Silicon Valley hotshots up there with Suze and she'd sniff them out.

"You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you Kimberly?"

"Don't try to cling to something that could never last. We both know that we love our freedom too much to ever be tied down."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Will I ever see you again?"

"Who knows. Who can tell what the future holds."

"Where are you going?"

"Wherever there are people struggling, I'll be there. Wherever there is deceit, treachery, and hypocrisy, I'll be there. Wherever there are people crying out for honesty and integrity and principle, I'll be there."

"You mean you're going to Washington?"

"Goodbye, Tony. "

"But wait-"

"Shhh...don't say anything. I don't know what I'd do if you did, and I must go. You understand, don't you, I must."

And with that she was gone. Was it something I did, or said? No, it just wasn't meant to be. Maybe if I drove a nicer car...

Standing On The Shoulders Of Giants

I met the young boy at the mall as he was fishing through the selection of $150.00 starter jackets.

"Are you Terence?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's me. They said I'm s'posed to talk to you."

"Well that's right, Terence. As you know Senator McCain thought you and I should talk about steroids...that is, you know, about just saying no to performance enhancing drugs."

"You know anything about steroids?"

"Well I know they're dangerous."

"Says who?"

"Well, doctors and scientists and people like that."

"You ever used steroids?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You probably don't know nothin' about steroids 'cept what you read in the paper, do you."

"Look, Terence, Senator McCain feels it's important that I educate you about-"

"Senator McCain? Has he ever used steroids? I mean, if I give him some money can he go score me some?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Terence. Just because you've never used steroids doesn't mean that you don't know how dangerous they are. You don't have to drink poison to know it'll kill you, right? You take these steroids and they make you big and strong, until 'BOOM' - one day your heart just stops beating."

"The governor of California took steroids and he ain't dead. He's the governor, man, with money and Hummers and a big house in Hollywood and all that. If steroids are so bad for you how come he's not dead?"

"You're missing the point here, Terence. -"

"No, man, you're missing the point. I know what you're trying to tell me. We have these guys coming around school all the time talking to us about how bad it is to be doing what we're doing. You ask me they're just wasting their breath. What they ought to do is just send around an undertaker and say 'You know kids, someday you're all gonna die' and I could say "Yeah, that's right Mr. Undertaker, someday I'm gonna be dead, but I plan on having a whole lot of fun before I go'. You know what I'm saying?"

"It's not that simple, Terence. There's a lot more to life than birth and dying. "

"I know that."

"No you don't. It takes time to learn that. It takes time to learn how to live with yourself, and accept yourself, and be truthful with yourself."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Barry Bonds. How do you think he must feel living a lie like that? Having to lie all the time, and then having to lie about his lies and think up new lies to cover the holes in the lies he's already told. How do you think he feels inside?"

"I think he feels great. He's rich and famous and they got a great big room in Cooperstown all waiting and ready for him to move into."

"But it's a lie, Terence?"

"No, it's not a lie. Everybody knows he's using steroids. You honestly think anyone was suprised when he got up in front of a grand jury and admitted it. C'mon, people got eyes and they know when they're looking at something ain't natural. How can it be a lie when everyone knows you're doing it?"

"Because he said he didn't use steroids. He was lying."

"Yeah, whatever. It don't bother me none if he was lying or using steroids. You know why? 'Cause it don't matter. When you turn on ESPN or Fox Sports or whatever, do you see those guys getting up there and delivering sermons about truth and honesty and athletic purity? Hell no, they've only got one thing to sell and that's who won the game and who lost. That's what the audience is tuning in for, that's what the sponsors are paying for, and that's what the sportcasters give 'em. Nobody cares about how pure a victory it was, or how virtuous the athletes were. You buy the winners and sell the losers - that's how it is on Wall Street, that's how it is in sports, and that's how it is in life."

"There used to be a thing called sportsmanship, you know. I don't suppose you ever heard of that."

"Yeah, 2,4,6,8, who do we appreciate...I know all about that. So what. Maybe it used to be about sportsmanship, but now it's about the money. And I don't know about you, but I'll take the money. Heh, heh, heh, 'Show me the money!'. You know what I'm saying."

"No I don't. Does that mean you risk your life and your health for a little cash in your pocket? What good is money going to do you when you're dead?"

"It won't do me any good when I'm dead, but I'll sure have a lot more fun along the way. Besides, what do you know about steroids anyways? There's a guy I know down at the gym can benchpress 400 pounds. Can you benchpress 400 pounds?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it."

"Then what do you know about steroids, huh? The technology's here, man, and you can't make it go away. You can't put that genie back in the bottle, so don't talk to me about what to do. It's a new world full of new p0ssiblities, and I plan to take full advantage of all of my opportunities."

"And if you get caught, what happens then. What happens when they take all those opportunites away."

"How they gonna catch me, man? Huh? How they gonna test for something when they don't even know what it is they're testing for. And you know what, even if they do catch me what can they do? What they can really do to Barry Bonds anyways? No, you go tell your Senator McCain that we don't need no educating about steroids. The guys down at the gym know a lot more about it than he ever will."

And with that the boy walked away.

From The Ol' Grab Bag

The fun of watching Jeopardy comes when you know an answer that none of the contestants on the show do. You know, when you're sitting on the couch saying to yourself "What a bunch of dummies. They don't know that? Everybody knows that. I can't believe they don't know that. I should be on that show. Geez, what a bunch of maroons."

(What can I say, Jeopardy just brings out the worst in me)

Lately, though, Jeopardy has been no fun because of that Ken Jennings guy. I don't know if you caught any of the shows these past few months, but that guy was really irritating. I mean, he knew everything, and he knew it so fast that you didn't even get a chance to hear the question before he was buzzing in with the answer. And that's why I'm so glad that after winning his 2.5 million dollars, Ken Jennings finally lost! Yeah, so long Ken, can't say it's been fun because I was getting pretty sick of you.

But if you watched the show on Tuesday night, you just had to notice that something seemed a little wrong. I don't want to say the fix was on, but it was a little fishy. He was getting beat to the buzzer and missing questions, and in particular he missed a Daily Double question about the name of the town in France that Patton's Third Army liberated at the Battle of the Bulge in 1944. I mean, that's a pretty simple question and I'm sure that most people know the answer, but for some reason the 2.5 million dollar man couldn't come up with it. Even though I've got no solid evidence and I doubt that the producers or anyone on the show was involved, I'd say KJ took a dive.

That's my theory, anyways, and if there was some hanky-panky going on, well, who cares? At least he's off the show and I can get back to hurling insults at the half-wit contestants again.

(No, I'm just kidding)

(No I'm not)


Well, here's one of those nights where I feel like blogging but don't have anything to blog about. That would stop a lesser man, but not I. Let's see, what can I blog on.

Unfortunately I don't do book reviews or I'd talk about this great little mystery I just read, but like I said I don't do book reviews. A lot of blogs do, but not this one. It was pretty good, though, called "The Cabinet of Curiosities " by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. It's the second book I've read by those two and I've really liked 'em both.

Oh, I know, I can talk about E-books. For some reason E-books never seemed to catch on and I can't figure out why. They're superior to regular paperbacks in so many ways, but I guess people tend to lean on the old and familiar. However, E-books do have their advantages, with the biggest being that you can read them in the dark (particularly good for mysteries). It's just a different experience reading an book in a dark room with the glow of your PDA casting ominous shadows all around, and I think once you get used to it it's hard to go back to turning on a reading light to read. Too much glare, too much reality intruding on your little imaginary world for my taste.

E-books also allow you to do other neat things like adjust the text size and the background color (I prefer large black text against a light gray background) and they also integrate well with electronic dictionaries so that you can look up unfamiliar words on the fly with just a tap or two of your stylus. Best of all, you don't have to deal with the bulkiness of paperbooks when you have an E-book - everything is stored electronically on your memory card or hard drive.

But E-books never caught on, and though they'll probably never disappear entirely, I doubt that we'll ever as extensive a selection of E-books as we do their paperback brethren. Oh well, it's a good idea that never found an audience.

Anything else I can talk about...hmmm, well Bush just got back from a fence-mending trip to Canada. Not that there' much to say about that but it does raise that age old question that we Americans have to deal with from time to time. Namely,

Does Canada Matter?

The answer, of course, is "hell, no" - Americans don't care about Canada, and I've raised the point before, but not in this blog. So I'll raise it again. I bet if you took a random sample of everyday Americans and asked them "What is the capital of Canada?" probably only 6 in 10 could tell you (It's Ottawa, by the way). If you then asked that same sample of Americans "Who is the Prime Minister of Canada?" I doubt if even 1 in 10 could tell you (give up? It's Paul Martin. Yeah, I never heard of him either). But to go even further, if you asked that same sample of Americans "Where is Canada?" I bet you not a single one of them could even find Canada on a map if it didn't have a little arrow pointing north.

That's just the plain and simple truth.

But I love Canada, sort of. I've visited it many times and even drove the Trans-Canada Highway a couple of times in my younger days. It's a great big beautiful country, and beyond that I can't say very much.

No, I must have some impressions of Canada that I can impart.

Well, let's think. Like I said it's big, temperate in the summer and colder than #&*$ in the winter. Uh, let's see, oh yeah you can drive 110 in Canada, only problem is they're on the metric system up there so 110 isn't nearly as fast as you might think. At least I didn't think so, and I think most Canadians agreed because when I drove through there they were all seemed to be doing 130 or 140. They like to drive fast, I guess, but then it's a big country.

What else, what else...oh yeah, they have mounties in Canada. Unfortunately, they don't wear Dudley Do-Right costumes or anything like that, just regular old uniforms like everyone else. That was kind of disappointing.

They have lots of Tim Horton's in Canada. In fact, you can't drive 10 miles (oops, sorry, I meant kilometers) without running into one. They're kind of like the McDonalds of Canada except they sell donuts instead of burgers. I even tried one once, but, and no offense Canada, I didn't think they lived up to the billing.

You know what's strange about driving across Canada, though. You can be driving along just minding your business when all of a sudden you get east of Ottawa and everything starts turning weird. And by weird, I mean french. Suddenly the stop signs all say "arrete", the street names become "rue this" or "chemin de la that", the bridges become "ponts" and some signs just don't make any sense at all. I never did figure out what that "a droite" or "garde de droite" or whatever it was meant, but it must not have been important.

Anyways, they just start changing things on you without any warning. I always thought it would be more "tourist friendly" if they would provide us language-deprived Americans with little information centers where they could sort of brush up on some of that french we haven't had to use since high school. It would be helpful but instead they just pick you up and throw you in the deep end, so to speak, and there you are left to fend for yourself in some weird foreign country.

Only it's not really a foreign country...it's Canada.

Luckily, if you keep driving east or just detour south back to the States things return to normal after a while, but you need to keep your wits about you at all times when you drive up there, because I tell ya' things can change at any time.

And that's about all I can say about Canada at the moment. I didn't mention the prices but when I was there they were obscene. Especially the gas, and Canadian gas stations are the only ones I've ever visited where they had actual loan officers on the premises to arrange that long term loan you're gonna need to finance your next tank of gas. Something to keep in mind, anyways.

Not much of a blog tonight, huh? Well considering what you paid I guess a media report, a book review and a travelogue are worth the cost of the subscription. Still it's amazing how a person can drone on and on and still have nothing to talk about. Reminds me of a girl I knew in high school, but let's not go there right now.

Sixteen Tons (or Please Pass the Gravy)

Isn't it great to get all that eating and relaxing behind you and settle back into the work week. Yeah, nothing like it. Somehow I feel a poem coming on.

There was a struggling man who asked
For a day free from trying
There was a suffering man who asked
For just one day of dying
There was a weeping man who asked
For just one day of living
But never was the man who asked
For a Monday to follow Thanksgiving

I think Emily Dickinson wrote that. OK, maybe that was my pen at work, but seriously, as we pause to remember the food shouldn't we also take a little time to pause and reflect a little on friends and family and all that togetherness. Of course we should, and it brings to my mind a great old saying from some guy whose name I can't remember right now, but that just seems to sum it all up -

A hotel may not be a home, he said,
but it's better than being a houseguest.

How true, how true. Here's hoping you had a great Thanksgiving, and for God's sake I hope you didn't wash your hands using the "good" towels.

The Old Man And The Sea

They had a story about some 12 year old composer on 60 minutes last night, and I got to tell you it really creeped me out. According to the story, he started composing when he was 2 and now he walks around all the time waiving his hands and hearing this music in his head. In fact it's so bad he feels like he'll go crazy if he doesnt' get the music out of his head and write it down on paper. Now is it just me or doesn't that remind you of that old Edgar Allen Poe story, you know The Tell Tale Heart where this guy keeps hearing this beating heart until it slowly drives him mad. Eeewww, creepy.

Unfortunately, they didn't really air much of his music so it's hard to tell if it's any good or not, but even if it's not it doesn't matter much because, well, he's only 12. Of course it'll be a different story 10 years from now when he's no longer a precocious little boy. When that happens people will be judging him more by his music than his prodigious gift and he'll need to deliver. Hopefully he won't turn into another Bobby Fischer or something like that. You know, gifted child that grows into a completely wacko adult. I wish him well, though.

And speaking of prodigies, whatever happened to Sarah Chang? Oh, I know she's still recording and playing and she is still immensly talented, but it just seems that she's one of those prodigies that has never really had that big breakthrough CD that everyone expected. I've got a couple of her CD's and I like her playing, but neither of them are what I would call "breakthroughs". They're just too traditional, too much like everyone else to stand out from the crowd. Sure, traditional will get you played on the local radio station, but are there a lot of people who feel an urgent need to get the new Sarah Chang CD when it comes out? There may be some, but for the most part it's just good, solid, polished work that is almost too ordinary in it's goodness to get really excited about (if that makes any sense).

Her rival, or so they say, is my personal favorite, and even though I think this rivalry stuff is a lot of B.S., I do think that Ms. H.H. has already established a more distinctive body of work than Ms. S.C. It's all subjective, of course, and many people prefer the traditional, down-the-middle approach, but c'mon, it's not breakthrough, and I'm afraid that I'm still waiting for the Sarah Chang CD that really knocks my socks off. Maybe someone should tell her she's not a prodigy anymore and it's time for her to do some stretching and growing.

And speaking of H.H., I see that her latest CD is selling rather well. It was number 10 on Tower Records top selling list and in the top 50 over at Itunes. Pretty good for a CD that I'd characterize as being a little on the difficult side. At least it was for me, although I think I finally I understand it, or misunderstand it, as the case may be. Who can tell a correct interpretation from an incorrect one anyways. Just as long as you get some meaning from it, who cares? Of course you want to know what meaning I found, so I'll tell you, but first I should explain it took quite a bit of wandering before I finally found it.

My first wandering was back down to the record store to find another recording of the Elgar Concerto besides H.H's. They only had one other, but it just happened to be by one of my other favorite violinists so I bought the Nigel Kennedy version and brought it home. To say it was a different from H.H.'s would be a gross understatement, but then anyone with even a passing acquaintance with classical music knows that Kennedy (or is it Nigel Kennedy? I can't keep it straight. Let's just call him Nigel) is a very different violinist than H.H. Where H.H. is still and precise, Nigel is fanciful and flamboyant, and let me tell you he really takes that Elgar concerto for a ride. And yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

So that got me thinking that maybe H.H. has taken a serious misstep with her recording and gotten in a little over her head. I mean by the time I finished playing the Nigel CD my ears were burning and I didn't hear any of that fire anywhere on H.H.'s CD - just an odd sense of incompleteness. Well, I thought, even the great ones produce a dud every now and then, and Ms. H is certainly no different. At least she tried to find her own way with the piece and that always counts for something.

Then I got another CD. This time it was not the violin concerto but rather a well-known and highly regarded recording of Elgar's cello concerto by Jacqueline du Pre, and it is a wonderful CD by the way and certainly worthy of the praise it receives. In fact, Jacqueline du Pre and H.H. are a little similar, in a way, in that they both seem to want to get out of the way of the performance and let the music have it's own voice, rather than say a Nigel Kennedy who wants to stand out in front and be the center of attention. Not that one approach is better than the other, but listeners will have their preferences.

Anyways, on the same CD with the cello concerto were recordings of Janet Baker singing 5 Sea Songs also by Elgar, and it was hearing those songs that gave me first real insight into the violin concerto. You see, the violin concerto is widely known to have been dedicated as some kind of remembrance or eulogy, perhaps, for an acquaintance of Elgar's named Alice Stuart-Wortley, and that's how I kept trying to hear the piece, as sort of an elegaic or spiritual composition, but it just didn't seem to work that way. Later I read an interview that H.H. had given and she described the piece as lyrical, which it certainly is, and said she had made the recording as sort of a gift or dedication to her father. That was interesting but not very useful, and I was still more drawn to Nigel's interpretation than H.H.'s.

Finally, though, after hearing Janet Baker sing the Sea Songs I had my epiphany, if it can be called an epiphany. The movement of the piece is what seems so strange. When Nigel plays it you don't really notice the movement because you are so overwhelmed by the pyrotechnics, but when H.H. plays it you become aware that this piece doesn't march, it doesn't dance, it doesn't sing dirges or stroll through the woods - it swells, like the tides. It rises and falls, and rises and falls, and sometimes as it recedes it leaves behind little tide pools, or should I say "tone" pools, that glisten for a while until the music rises up to swallow them again. Instead of thinkng in linear terms I began to think in cyclical terms, I began to think of the ocean when I listened to H.H. play, and the suddenly the whole thing fell into place. I tell you, if you can clear your mind and just listen for the tides, this becomes an incredibly beautiful piece. I think that rather than being a miss this may be H.H.'s best CD to date. It gets my vote for best CD of 2004, although I don't think the critics like it nearly as much as I do. Still, a real breakthrough that I just keep listening to over and over.

I wonder if H.H. would agree with me on this. Hmmm, probably not. "You ignorant dunce", she'd say, "that's not what I had in mind at all." Well, it's all in the ear of the beholder.

It's My Ball So I Get To Be Quarterback

The Holidays. Bah Humbug! Yeah I know that's not what Christmas is all about, at least not the Christmas they advertise on TV. Christmas is supposed to be about family, and giving, and crowds, and calories, and overlimit credit card balances, and... Ah, enough already. I'm sorry if I'm not in the proper holiday spirit but I'm getting tired, and each year it seems more and more like a chore just to make it through the season. In fact I can see it coming already.

How long will it be, you think, before we start seeing those "news" stories about how we're doing this holiday season? You know the ones I mean.

"Retailers report a slow start to the Christmas shopping season, with sales volume 6% behind what they were this time last year. With Christmas accounting for as much as 60% of total yearly sales, many analysts predict that retailers may see revenue shortfalls of up to a gazillion dollars unless consumers get out those credit cards and start running up the balances. Many consumers, however, continue to watch prices closely and wait for discounts to arrive before they start shelling out the dough."

Geez, they always try to make you feel so guilty about not doing your part to add even more heft to the national debt. But I don't care about that, and I don't mind spending the money either, but I do resent it when the news shows and the commercials and even the politicians sometimes start turning the screws and pressuring already overextended consumers to go out there and spend.

Anyways, that's not what I wanted to talk about. What I really want to talk about is charity. Now I know everyone of us tries to do our part, especially at this time of year, and I guess the one thing that I always feel good about at Christmas time is my annual donation to Toys for Tots. I've been doing it for the past 15 or 20 years or so, but it seems like every year I end up donating the same thing. And that bugs me.

You see, I know that kids want to get the hottest, latest, coolest thing for Christmas, but I never know what the latest, hottest, coolest thing is. I imagine it's probably something electronic, or at least something that needs a battery, or maybe something radio controlled, or something that moves or makes some kind of noise, but I never donate those types of things. I could just donate money, but instead each year I give the same old dull, boring, been-there done-that kind of toy you can imagine.

I donate a ball.

It used to be I'd donate a softball or a football but I noticed that kids today don't seem to be playing much baseball or football anymore, so I usually give a soccer ball or a basketball instead. I know, I know, how b-o-o-o-o-r-i-n-g. But wait a second, I can explain, and it all goes back to (are you ready for this?) "WHEN I WAS A KID." You see, when I was a kid I used to get lots of those cool, fad kind of toys too, and I'd play with them intensely for about a week or two before I'd toss them into the closet and beg my parents for the next cool thing. But a ball was different.

My brother got a football for Christmas once and I swear that thing got regular use for at least the next 6 or 7 years. And not just by my brother, either. Every kid in the neighborhood knew who had the football and whenever it was time to get a game together you could be sure someone would come knocking on our door. I don't know whatever happened to that thing, but after a few years the strings were all broken and tied together in knots, and one of the seams had split open a little so that there was a big black bubble on one side where the rubber innertube used to stick out, and the surface had become so worn and smooth that we used to have to throw it shotput style to keep it from slipping out of our hands. But let me tell you, it got used and never sat around in the back of anyone's closet waiting to be thrown out.

So that's why I give a ball every year. You see, in my mind I have this idealized vision of some kid getting this ball for Christmas and getting all the neighborhood kids together and having a game just like we used to do. Realistically, of course, I also know it's far more likely that some poor kid is going to be looking around at all the really cool toys that everyone else got for Christmas and w0ndering why he or she just got this crummy ball.

And I feel bad about that.

Yep, I should donate something else this Christmas. But I keep thinking wouldn't it be great if some kid got a ball for Christmas, and him and his dad went down to the park and started throwing it around, or kicking it around, or shooting a few baskets. Wouldn't any kid get more out of that than some batteries not included gizmo, or some TV show movie deal action figure promo tie-in? Ok, probably not, but then, like I said, I'm an idealist.

That's why I think I'll donate a football this year. Kids don't seem to play much football anymore, and you know, that's too bad because if they did they'd find out that the game is a lot of fun. On a crisp winter day, when there's a bit of a chill in the air, after you've been cooped up inside all day, a football game is...well, if only I could be a kid again. Unfortunately, I'm not a kid and if I went out and played football now I'd probably break every bone in my body, but when you're young it's just about the most fun you can have. My favorite positions were receiver and cornerback, and let me tell you it wasn't like the NFL where all a corner has to do is brush the receiver a little or just look at him funny for a flag to come flying. By our rules, when going for the ball anything short of first degree murder was a-ok by us, and we had some crazy fun. At least it was for me.

Yeah, I'm going to donate a football and who knows, maybe someone will get a game going. Then after I've done my good deed for humanity and dropped it in the barrel I can get back to this business of Christmas. I heard an ad on the radio today where they were seriously suggesting that a Mercedes would make a great gift this holiday season. No kidding. Why not surprise that special someone with a new Mercedes this year.

We've certainly come a long way from frankincense and myrrh.

Everything Old - Just Keeps Getting Older


The death embrace, er merger, of Sears and Kmart has inspired me once again to indulge my predilection for all things fleeting and nostaligic by wallowing in sentimental remembrance of things gone by. I don't why it's so, but the mere idea that the mighty Sears Roebuck and Co. could someday fade into the history books...well, I never imagined it could ever be so.

Yes, with Sears on the ropes I can't help but reflect on how many of the big names from my childhood have gone the way of the Dodo. I really can't count them all. Montgomery Wards, The Emporium, Woolworths, White Front, and Gemco, or lesser names like W.F. Grant & Co, Newberry's, Payless Drugs and Rexall Drugs (not officially dead but a mere shadow of its former self). Hell, I'm even old enough to remember my mother redeeming her books of blue chip stamps down at the blue chip stamp store. It was all such a long time ago.

Of course, many of the old stores didn't expire but merely changed their names or merged and morphed into the big mega institutions we have today. Gas stations, in particular, seemed to follow this pattern. When I was in high school we had 3 gas stations on the main intersection down the street and all of them have disappeared. Let's see, there was a Mobile station, and across the street a Standard station, and on the opposite corner sat a Humble station. They were all what we called service stations back then which meant that they fixed cars as well as pumped gas, and by pumped gas I mean some guy in a greasy blue shirt with a little oval name tag sewed on the fron would pump your gas while you sat in the car. Folks in Oregon or Quebec will know what I'm talking about.

Anyways, Humble Oil became Esso which merged with Mobile and became Exxon Mobile which calls itself Valero, and Standard changed their name to Chevron just like Richfield changed it's name to Arco. Gas stations like to confuse things, don't they. Route 66 stations merge with Phillips and become Phillips 66 which merges with Conoco and becomes Conocophillips, or Mohawk is swallowed by Getty which in turned gets swallowed and is now a part of Texaco, and Gulf Oil...hmmm...whatever happened to Gulf Oil?

Well, everything changes and I'm sure that when I finally shuffle off this mortal coil the world will be nothing like it is today. That's just one of those things that ages a person and makes him wonder "geez, how old am I, anyways?" I know the number but the number doesn't seem right. In fact I read a survey once where they asked people how old would they say they were if they didn't know how old they were. The top answer was around 19 years old, and that sounds about right to me even though I'm sure I can look over my youth and recall daily events from the past that would seem ancient indeed to today's 19 year olds.

I mean, how many contemporary 19 year olds can still remember milk trucks and milkmen? Not many, I bet, but I can still remember the Carnation trucks and Edelweiss Dairy trucks that used to cruise the streets of my neighborhood. Wasn't that a long time ago. A lot of our neighbors used to have their milk delivered, but we always went straight to the dairy to pick ours up. Saved money that way, I guess, and I can still remember going down to Bab's Dairy with my father to buy those big half-gallon bottles (as in glass) of milk. That used to be one of my favorite trips because my Dad would always buy us all Eskimo Pies whenever we were lucky enough to tag along.

Whoa, I'll tell you how old I am. I can even remember when the bakery truck used to come around to our house in Covina to deliver fresh bread and donuts. Man, that goes way back. Big yellow bakery trucks (vans, really) with great big brown donuts painted on the side. Can you imagine that happening today? Or can you imagine buying your fruits and vegetables fresh from the little stalls and open-air markets along the road. Well, they still do that today, I guess, with farmer's markets and such, but when I was a kid no one bought produce at the supermarket when there was so much abundance for sale in the roadside stands. Corn, cherries, watermelon, you name it, and best of all were the strawberries. I remember we always got our strawberries from a bent-backed old japanese woman who ran a little stand down on Berryessa Road. She was about 200 years old, I guess, and not much for conversation, and she used to sell these fresh, juicy strawberries for a quarter a basket. I know, I know, I'm wallowing, but those were the days.

And nowadays, well you get in your car and drive to the local megastore or local megacenter and fill your basket with pre-wrapped, pre-measured, pre-processed, corporate food products that have all been carefully inventoried and barcoded for your convenience. The youngun's take it all for granted of course, but us old crotchety types know that new isn't always better and even if it is, well, it just isn't the same. Heed my words, you new generation, for someday it will be your turn to remember for your children and grandchildren when there used to be a Sears.

What Have I Wrought This Ill-Gotten Day


I didn't buy Half-Life 2 just to look at the box, and yet there it sits. I'm going to install it, I know, but right now I'm not sure if that's such a good idea. I haven't eaten supper yet, nor finished the laundry, and I still have this book I just started and would like to finish before this new game consumes me. Oh the wasted days and wasted nights, the early morning's I'll forget to sleep as I push further and further into the story, unable to leave my computer until I find what lies beyond the next door or down the next passageway. I've been through this all before.

For those of you who don't have any idea what I'm talking about, Half-Life 2 is the sequel to Half-Life, a computer game considered by many to be the best ever made. Psshaw, I hear y0u say, a computer game, what's wrong with you man, to which I say psshaw back at you, not all computer games are alike. You know you can't judge the entire movie industry because of something like "From Justin to Kelly", and you can't judge the entire computer game industry because of something like "Pokemon" either.

Anyways, back in the day Half-Life and it's various add-ons consumed many, many hours (far too many, I'd say) of my life, and now the sequel is here and I get this sinking feeling that it's going to start all over again. That book I was reading, forget about it. Those things I needed to do around the house, huh, give me a break. But I went and bought the thing so I'm already half-committed, you might say. Went right down to Fry's and stood in line in front of a couple of other old farts like myself who just so happened to be holding copies themselves, and there we were at the counter, three of us all in a row plunking down our $60 bucks on the same stupid game. I've never been one who likes to swim with the other fish and I can't say I much cared for it, but it was kind of strange to see 3 middle-aged guys all standing at the counter with copies of Half-Life 2 in our hands.

Maybe you had to be there.

Needless to say I probably won't be blogging for a while. Hard as that may be for all who may be reading this, I fear I'm about to become cut-off like an astronaut orbiting the dark side of the moon, out of radio contact and venturing into the unknown recesses of space. Yes, I can hear the outcry "you must keep blogging", but destiny calls and I must answer. How strange that I should have journeyed for so long and so far only to end up here again in front of my computer. Fact is stranger than fiction isn't it, but then again

I've got a game to play.
(See you on the other side)

Laura Takes A Gentleman Caller (or Two)


Phew! Thank God that John Ashcroft guy is finally gone. Guess we can all breathe a little easier now. No need to worry about secret arrests, secret courts, or secret trials. Nope, it's morning again in America, and we are free to speak our minds without fear of being labeled a traitor or a terrorist. Well I'd personally like to take this time to say once and for all that as far as I'm concerned John Ashcroft was a great big weenie-head and the country can now count its blessings that he's finally...

Ooops, sorry. Excuse me for a minute, I think there's someone at the door.

"Good evening sir, is Mr. Anthony Myers at home."

"I'm Mr. Myers, can I help you?"

"Good evening Mr. Myers, we're from the Justice Dept. My name is Officer Frank and this is my partner Officer Jack. Mind if we come in and ask you a few questions?"

"Uh, no, come on in. No, wait, could I see some identification first? Ok, that looks right. Come on in."

"Thank you. Mr. Myers, Agent Jack and I are special agents assigned to the special anti-terrorist unit of the U.S. Department of Justice and we're currently canvassing homes in the area looking for possible signs of terrorist activities in your neighborhood. "

"Terrorists, in this neighborhood? Do you have any particular suspects in mind?"

"No, no, just routine. We've been talking to people throughout the country and"

"Excuse me, can I take your coats?"

"No, we're fine. Like I said, we've been talking to various people around the country about"

"You think I might be a terrorist?"

"No, we didn't say that. But if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions...I promise we'll be as brief as possible."

"No, I don't mind. I've got nothing to hide. Ask away."

"Fine, Mr. Myers. Perhaps before we get started you wouldn't mind removing your shoes and socks."

"My what? My shoes and socks?"

"Yes sir, that's correct. As you may know we at the justice department have developed certain, uh, shall we say...terrorist profiles over the years, and one of the things we've noticed is that terrorism seems to be linked with unusually long toes. If you don't mind, we'd like you to remove your shoes so that Agent Jack here can take some measurements. It's strictly routine."

"I don't know, that's seems a little kinky to me."

"Please sir, if you don't mind."

"Ok, sure. Measure away. Like I said, I've got nothing to hide."

"Fine sir. Agent Jack, would you please?"

"Now, Mr. Myers. It has come to our attention that you have made some threatening remarks about the Attorney General lately. Is this true?"

"Threatening remarks? You mean like calling him a 'great big weenie-head'?"

"Exactly. Now Mr. Myers, did you in fact say that about the Attorney General? Did you in fact make a post on your blog calling him a 'great big weenie-head'?"

"Mmmmaaaybeeee...."

"Is that a yes or a no, sir?"

"Sure, I might of said that. But it was a joke. Honest."

"A joke" (long pause) "Sir, would I would be correct in calling you a liberal?"

"No, I'm an American, and just what are you trying to imply?"

"I'm not implying anything, sir, I'm just asking questions. So when you say you are an American does that mean your not a traitorous piece of liberal scum?"

"Huh?"

"Let me ask you another question Mr. Myers. Who did you vote for in the last election?"

"That's none of your damn business!"

"I see. Tell me, Mr. Myers, would I be mistaken in believing that those who don't cast a proper vote to save America from the terrorist threat are, in actuality, our enemies? And if I am not mistaken, then wouldn't it certainly be 'my business' to know how you voted in the last election?"

"I voted for Arnold, ok. There, see, I'm no traiterous liberal scum."

"Ok, Mr. Myers, we'll leave it at that. Tell me, is that an empty yogurt container I see sitting in the waste basket over there."

"Where, over there. Yeah, Yoplait yogurt. I eat it everyday. So what?"

"You eat french food everyday. Like french food do you? Maybe you like french people too, huh? Maybe you'd rather be living in France and cavorting with all those yellow-bellied french socialist scumbag arteestes and intellectuals than living here in the good Ol' USA with us plain old Americans? Isn't that right?"

"What are you talking about? I've never been to France in my life."

"Then explain the yogurt."

"The yogurt?"

"The Yo-Plait, s'il vous plait. Comprendez-vous?"

"It's yogurt, for crying out loud. I bought it at the supermarket."

"It's french yogurt."

"Actually, I think it's American yogurt. And anyways, if I'm not mistaken yogurt is turkish, not french, right? Turkey is our ally, aren't they. Hell, they're part of NATO, aren't they?"

"Hmmm, sounds french to me, but whatever you say. Still, I really hate the french. All a bunch of queers if you ask me. By the way, you're not..."

"Not what?"

"You know, Gay Paree and all that. You're not that kind of frenchie are you?"

"What kind of frenchie, is that?"

"Nevermind, although it would fit the profile. But, like you say, you're not... Like girls, do you?"

"Yes I do, especially the fleshy parts. What has that got to do with..."

"Ok, ok, just asking. No reason to get defensive. Still, it does fit the profile."

"How 'bout you, Agent Frank. You and Agent Jack seemed awful chummy when you walked in the door. You like girls?"

"I'm married."

"Yeah, I'll bet."

(tense silence)

"Ok, let's have a look at that computer. Where is it?"

"Computer? What computer?"

"Let's not play games here Mr. Myers, you know which computer I'm talking about. The one you use to post threatening and highly treasonous, I might add, statements about the Attorney General of the United States of America. May I see it please?"

"Why do you want to see it? It's just a computer."

"I'm afraid we'll have to take it in for evidence."

"Take it in? My computer? When will I get it back?"

(silence)

"You can't just come barging in here and take my computer. I have important files on that computer."

"I see, and what kind of files might that be?"

"Important ones, you know. Financial data, and things like that. Say, you aren't going to look through my files are you?"

"That would be the general purpose, yes. We'll need to do a thorough forensic examination of the contents of your hard drive."

"But wait..."

"Mr. Myers, will you please show us the computer. I'm afraid we won't be leaving here without it."

"Ok, ok, but first I should tell you something. Uh, you might some files, you know pictures."

"What kind of pictures are we talking about, sir."

"Pictures, just pictures, that's all. You know, naked barbie pictures, but I can explain. You see I'm doing some research"

"Uh-huh, just as I thought. You about done there Jack?"

"Toes look a little long, Frank."

"Ok, that does it. The toes, the yogurt, the naked barbie picture, it all adds up. Sir would you mind getting your coat. You'll be coming with us."

"Coming with you, where?"

"We'd like to ask you some further questions."

"No, I'm not going anywhere. Not until I talk to a lawyer."

"There's no need to talk to a lawyer, sir. It'll just be a few questions."

"I'm not answering anything until I talk to a lawyer."

"Sir, if you've got nothing to hide then there's no need for a lawyer, is there?"

"Sure there is. What if this thing goes to trial, then what? I'll need a lawyer then, won't I?"

"There's not going to be a trial, sir."

"No trial? What are we gonna do? Just sit around the courtroom and watch you and Agent Jack make goo-goo eyes at eachother?"

"There won't be any court, sir."

"No lawyer? No court? No trial? Say, what is this?"

"Sir, we live in dangerous times. The terrorists can strike anytime and the Attorney General feels that we don't have time to waste on all the lawyer tricks and legal mumbo jumbo. I think the American people, the true patriots anyways, feel secure in knowing that our government is wasting no time in sending terrorist scum like you straight into the penitentiary where you belong."

"But I'm not a terrorist."

"The toes, Mr. Myers, how do you explain that?"

"But I'm not a terrorist."

"The yogurt, the big weenie-head remark. How do you explain those Mr. Myers?"

"But I'm not a terrorist."

"The barbie pictures"

"Ok, I said I could explain that. Look, I'm not a terrori"

THIS BLOG HAS BEEN TERMINATED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE BY ORDER OF THE ATTORNEY GENERAL OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. ALL PERSONS HAVING BUSINESS WITH THIS BLOG OR WITH THE AUTHOR HEREOF SHOULD CONTACT AGENT FRANK AT THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE, WASHINGTON, D.C., OR JUST BOOKMARK THIS PAGE AND AGENT FRANK WILL BE SURE TO CONTACT YOU.

Music in the Digital Age


That was my dream, you see. After spending all these years building up my collection of LP's, cassettes and CD's, I dreamed of someday gathering all that music together and storing it on my computer. How simple it would be. No more fishing around looking for albums, trying to remember where I put that tape - all I would have to do is punch up the album or song on my computer and hit the play button and I'd be set to go.

Then, about 5 years ago, the digital music revolution happened, and my dream was within sight. All of a sudden it was possible to rip that CD or capture an analog stream, digitize it and store it on my hard drive and jukebox software soon followed making it possible to sort and organize all those digital music files and track them through one central database. This was exactly the thing I'd always wanted to do.

So I started.

Now, it's 5 years later, and I've managed to get around 700 albums spread over about 5800 different tracks all stored on my hard drive. Better yet, not only can I access them on my PC but also on a little portable device I carry with me everywhere I go as well. That's something I never could have imagined 5 years ago, even though now I can't see how I ever got along without it. It would be tempting to invoke the old warning "be careful what you wish for...", but frankly, I think the whole digital revolution, at least when it comes to music, has been a godsend for all the music lovers out there.

There are 2 reasons I'm bringing this up. The first is that I've just finished doing an extensive overhaul of my music library. It took me at least 20-25 hours to do, but it needed to be done. The whole thing had just become such a mishmash of methods and tagging styles that I needed to bring everything together under one unified system. That's the german in me, I guess - you know, above all there must be ORDER, but there was a practical side as well. The way I tagged my tracks 5 years ago was radically different from the way I tag them now, and it was just getting too hard to search through my library and find what I was looking for. With experience comes knowledge, they say, and I've learned a lot over the years about the best way to organize music.

So that's what I want to talk a little about tonight. Sort of a short primer on tagging music files for the classical music lover who is looking to get started on digitizing his or her collection(and I say classical music lover because tagging all other forms of music, be it pop, rock, jazz, whatever, is pretty self-evident - classical music is another story). So here are a few nuggets I can pass along.

1. Be consistent. Whatever method or system of tagging you choose, be absolutely rigid and consistent in applying it to your tracks. I can't overemphasize this enough. That's how I got into trouble and that's why I've spent all these days and hours cleaning things up. Unfortunately, it's hard to know what system is best when you're first starting out, and that's why it's best to start small and be picky about how you do things. Believe me, those little inconveniences you suffer when your collection is only a couple of hundred tracks will become major pains in the ass when your collection starts to grow into the thousands. And once you find the system you like, never deviate from it. That way, even if it's not the most perfect system, you'll always know how to find your music.

2. My system. Here's an interesting little tape I found in one of my dresser drawers. "Andras Schiff playing the Mendelssohn Piano Concertos Nos. 1 and 2 with Charles Dutoit conducting Symphonieorchester des Bayersichen Rundfunks". Now, that's a mouthful. So what's the problem, you're saying, just tag it. Well, here's the problem.

There are lots of music players and jukeboxes out there for the computer, and while they are more alike than similar, they are not all exactly alike. When you add in portable MP3 players things get a little more complicated, and the fact is that there are only 4 fields that you can truly count on to work across all software and all players, those fields being Track Name, Artist, Album and Genre. There's not much you can do with Genre, so in reality there are only 3 fields you can work with when tagging a song or album. So let's try the Mendelssohn.

First is the track name. It would seem obvious to most anyone that the track names are the ones you find listed on the album cover, right? In this case that would be (1) Piano Concerto No. 1 in G minor, opus 40 Molto Allegro con fuoco (2) Piano Concerto No. 1 in G minor, opus 40 Andante and (3) Piano Concerto No. 1 in G minor, opus 40 Presto: Molto Allegro e vivace. Well there's your tracks 1, 2 and 3, right? No, no, no, my friend, not so fast.

What you might not know is that most music players and hardware players play tracks in alphabetical order, not track order. What does that mean? Well in this case it means if you tagged your tracks as they're shown on the album cover then the alphabetical order would be the second movement first, the first movement second, and the third movement third. Somehow, I don't think that's what you had in mind, is it?

So for track name I always use the system (Album Name)-(track no.)-(track name). This insures that no matter what player or device you use, the tracks will always sort first by Album Name, then track number, and lastly by track name. In other words, for any given album the tracks will playback in track order.

Have I lost you yet?

The next tag is for Artist Name, and here's another problem that they don't face in pop world. Who is the artist? Is it the composer Mendelssohn, the pianist Schiff, the conductor Dutoit, or the orchestra? Hmmm, didn't think about that did you? Well, here's where you have to make a decision. My decision, reached after much trial and error, is always to list the composer under the Artist Name field. I find this makes it much easier to find things on my portable player. When looking for the Mendelssohn Piano Concerto No. 1, it's just simpler to look under "Mendelssohn" than trying to remember the soloist or the of the conductor.

The next tag is Album Name and again, this would seem to be self-evident. Just enter the name of the album. Unfortunately, if you remember my method for tagging Track Names (album-track no.-track name) then you see that it can become pretty unwieldy to use long album names like "Andras Schiff playing the Mendelssohn Piano Concertos Nos. 1 and 2 with Charles Dutoit conducting Symphonieorchester des Bayersichen Rundfunks" in every track name. My solution is to only include as much inf0rmation as is absolutely necessary to identify the track. In this case I called the Album "Schiff-Mendelssohn Piano C 1 & 2", which tells me everything I need to know when searching through a long listing.

Of course, that's just my system and it doesn't really matter what system you use as long as you're consistent.

3. Never, ever accept the information you get from the CDDB. As you may know, when you rip a CD most ripping software looks up the CD information for you from services that go under the general description of CDDB (CD DataBase). These work fine for pop music, but they are horrendously, stupendously, unbelievably inaccurate for most of the classical CD's I've ripped, and the reason is simple - everyone's got their own system. Use the CDDB to get what information you can, but always be sure to go back through the fields and edit them according to the rules you have set out.

4. Opera. Tagging Operas used to be a major pain for me until I finally arrived at my foolproof system. I won't go into details but it is as follows: Track name - (conductor)(track name), Artist-(composer), Album name-(Opera name),(principal singers). Beautiful, isn't it? In just 3 fields I've managed to list the name of the opera, the composer, the conductor, and the principal singers. Really, all the info you need to know at a glance. So, for example if I see Track name-Bonynge Preludio, Artist-Verdi, Album Name-Rigoletto, Sutherland, Pavarotti, Milnes, I know exactly which Opera I've got, which conductor, and which singers. Not a bad system if I do say so myself.

Well, that's all I can think of right now. Not much of a primer, I know, but maybe I'll add to it as I think of new things.

Oh, wait a minute, I said are 2 reasons I'm talking about digital music tonight, didn't I. I almost forgot. The second reason is this.






This is a screenshot I took from Windows Media Player 10, and just shows you what is possible in the digital age. I know it's not a very good picture, but what it shows is a Barbara Bonney CD of Schumann Lieder playing on my computer. If you look closely you'll see that not only does it play the music but it also shows the Album Name, the track name, the artist, the album cover and the english translation of the lyrics at the very bottom of the screen. Trying getting all that from your CD player.

I always dreamed of something like this, and here it is.

Sentimental Goop

It must have been in the sixth grade, maybe junior high, ... no the sixth grade. I remember now because it was at Noble Elementary. The Art Room was next to the Utility Room where they used to sell the treats on Treat Days, when our mothers would give us a dime to take to school and where we'd line up during the afternoon recess for popcorn balls or fudgesicles or whatever the snack was that day. Yes, it was the sixth grade, and the Art Room was down at the end of the building next to the Utility Room.

I was a horrible artist. Forget watercolors or colored pencils, I couldn't even fingerpaint anything beyond the basic rectangles and circles, but in the sixth grade everyone had to take Art Class and luckily the teacher wasn't too hard on us and would give even the most ham-handed of artists a B if they showed up for class everyday. I showed up and was perfectly content to get my B.

I remember one of her assignments particularly well. We were each to select an animal and return the following week with a drawing. I don't know why I chose a bird, perhaps because I couldn't draw an elephant, although truthfully I couldn't draw a bird either beyond the basic "m" shapes that some people use to draw birds in the distance. Either way, my assignment was to draw a pencil sketch of a bird and I determined to go home and come up with something with a beak and feathers, even if it didn't exactly resemble the real thing.

When I got home I saw my mother sewing in the family room, as was her usual custom in those days, and she saw the sheets of white construction paper the art teacher had given me to use for my drawing. She asked about the construction paper and I told her about the assignment. She smiled at me and asked "Do you know how to draw a bird?", knowing full well I couldn't draw a brick, let alone a bird.

"No" I said, "I'll just copy one from the encyclopedia."

"Well, it's easy to draw a bird" she explained, "get me some paper and I'll show you how."

I was a little suprised at that. In all the years I'd known my mother (and I'd known her all my life) I had never seen her draw anything before. Well, except for kanji. I can still remember her sitting hunched over the kitchen table with her reading glasses on and writing these letters to her family back in Japan that would take days, even weeks to finish. Each character had to carefully stroked, each column worked slowly from right to left. Her kanji skills were superb, no doubt honed by her years working as a government copyest during the war, and each character it's own little work of art.

But drawing, that was something different. She had a friend named Ruth who was a painter and she used to go over to her house and admire the unframed paintings that she had laying around her garage, but whenever Ruth offered her lessons she declined telling her that she was much too busy looking after the house and family to ever take up painting. Which was true, I suppose, although outside of Ruth's garage she never seemed to show much interest.

Then I remember a story my mother used to tell. When she was a little girl, about 12 or 13, she told me, she had won an art competition at her school. It wasn't anything major, hers was a little town and well outside the orbit of Tokyo or the other major cities to the south, but she took took first place and was even a little overcome when one of the local VIP's saw her painting and decided that it should be hung in the hallway of the local government building. I remember how proudly she used to tell that story and how happily she remembered going down to the government building and seeing her painting upon the wall. In her town that government building was second only to the Emporer's Palace as a place of respect and importance, and the entire family felt honored to have her painting seen there.

I don't know what dreams my mother dreamed in those days, but she must have dreamed of going to a great art school I suppose, or university, or maybe even getting an imperial commission, who knows, but things didn't turn out that way. As my mother always used to finish the story, it was only months later that all the children at the school were called out of class to listen to an announcement from Tokyo that Japan had just won a great victory over the United States. It was December 8, 1941, and although she didn't know it at the time, all her dreams were gone.

As I gave my mother some blank sheets of paper I remembered her story. That's right, I thought, she can draw, at least she used to draw even though she doesn't draw anymore. My mother laid the sheet of paper flat over the hard cover of my school binder and began drawing a long slender outline on the paper. "This is the breast" she told me, "and the wings will go here." As she continued drawing her conversation began to fade. Slowly the bird began to appear on the paper, the breast, the wings, the head, the feet, the beak and the eyes. She drew in feathers and the bird acquired a texture - a texture so soft you could almost reach out an touch it. As I watched her continue on it became clear to me that this was not the work of an amateur or hobbyist. Ruth was a hobbyist and though I thought her paintings were just fine, my mother could draw much better than Ruth. Even with just a pencil and paper she created something more alive and real than any of Ruth's fruit bowls or flower vases.

When she finished my mother smiled at me and gave me a look like "See, that's how you draw a bird", though if I lived to be a hundred and ten years old I knew I'd never be able to draw anything like that. I took the drawing and asked her "Mom, how come I've never seen you draw before. I didn't know you could draw like this." My mother never answered me, and in all the remaining years of her life I never remember her once picking up a pencil and drawing anything ever again.

So why am I writing this? Well, you asked me what I wanted for Christmas, didn't you. I know I didn't give much of an answer, but there's a reason. It would just sound too corny, too sentimental to say it out loud. I grow older and find that I don't care so much about having things I've never had before. Sure, when you're a kid you always want the newest thing, the newest toy or whatever, but lately I find myself wanting things I used to have and lost. People I used to know, names I used to remember, and little things I gathered along the way and misplaced.

Like a picture of a bird that my mother drew for me one day after school. If I could have one Christmas wish it would be to have back that afternoon, and to take that picture and safely pack it away knowing how much it would mean to me someday. Then if someone should ever see her photograph and ask "who was that?" I could take out the drawing and show them. "She was my mother", I'd say, "and she had hidden talents."

The Soapbox of the World

I know that there are still some people out there who are new to the world of blogs, and if you're one of them and trying to figure this whole blog thing out then all I have to say is "You're too late". Sorry, man, the party's over.

Blogs are officially Old-School now. The new thing in town is the Podcast, and if that leaves you feeling a little behind the curve, don't worry - podcasts are simply audio blogs that are being sydicated around the web via RSS feeds. And for those who don't know what an RSS feed is... well, perhaps it's time for you retire to a quiet corner somewhere and try to recall exactly when it was that the world passed you by.

No, I don't mean that. Go ask your kids or grandkids and maybe they can get you up to speed.

Anyways, podcasts are in, man. Not that they're anything new, mind you, because all of the podcasts I've seen are just the same old mp3 files that have been floating around the net for years. I guess what's new is the delivery mechanism and the fact that you sync these files with your Ipod (hence "podcast" - clever folks, this new generation). I don't have an Ipod but it's easy enough to download the files and play them on any mp3 player you happen to have, and though I've only listened to a couple of these things so far, I still think it's safe to say that with the arrival of the podcast we stand upon the cusp of the total collapse and disintegration of civilization and rational thought as we know it.

Why, you ask? Well, first of all let me say that not every podcast is a total waste of time. There are a few professionally produced ones out there that are simply using the podcasting apparatus as a way to extend their reach into new areas of the internet. Certainly nothing wrong with that, but these are far from common and I'd say the vast majority of podcasts that I've heard so far are amateur affairs, the internet equivalent of giving a 6 year old a microphone and tape recorder and telling him to just start talking. "Say something, Mikey. Anything. Anything that comes to mind."

Ha, you say, so what? Look at this blog. Who are you to be pointing fingers and accusing others of filling the internet with mindless blather? Well, that's true, but as I see it blogging has two distinct advantages over podcasting. The first is that you only have to read a line or two of most blogs to know whether you should bother reading any further, but you may have to listen to some obnoxious jerk for one, maybe two full minutes before you realize that he's not going to get any less obnoxious or be any less of a jerk and stop the podcast. Blogs are simply easier to browse than podcasts. The second advantage that blogs have is that most are quiet and thoughtful while podcasts are more like some guy sitting next to you in a restaurant talking on his cellphone.

Advantages, disadvantages, it doesn't really matter, though, because as you've probably heard there are new Ipod's coming out that are going to have LCD screens and be able to play video as well as audio. This means that it's only a matter of time before we start seeing video podcasts, and when that happens I believe we will have finally reached the point at which civilization reaches it's zenith and starts it's long fall to the bottom. And my reason is simple.

Blogs are for readers, but most members of the Ipod generation are not readers, they are TV watchers. I predict that when they finally acquire a portable video device (Ipod) that allows them to be both consumers and producers of their own video content then there is going to be an explosion of media across the internet that will make this whole blogging thing seem no more than a flea on the back of an elephant. The world is going to be saturated with media, and the only question will be "how do we consume it all?"

I say we'll consume it by devolving into something resembling a sea anemone. We'll just anchor ourselves to some rock and use our tentacles to filter through the vast ocean of media around us, probing for some tasty little morsel that might happen to come our way.

Whatever happens I think that one of the lessons we've learned from all this blogging and chatting and message boarding is that as the quantity of discourse increases, the quality of discourse declines. There may be exceptions, but time and time again I've seen quality message boards and quality groups overwhelmed by vast invasions of the trolls and sociopaths, and therefore my prediction is that in the not too distant future the world discussion will be dominated by 14 year old boys with serious personality problems, and we'll all be watching it on our Ipods.

Of course, I could be wrong and my predictions usually are, but as Jeanne Dixon proved you can be wrong 10,000 times and no one will care, but be right once and the world will call you a prophet.

An Enigmatic Variation (ButWe Still Love Ya, Hilary)

I lack the expertise and experience to be a real music critic and I won't try to pass myself off as one, but I do have a quick comment about Hilary Hahn's latest CD of the Elgar Violin Concerto, and that comment would be

I don't get it.

I guess I've listened to the piece a dozen, maybe two dozen times since I bought it and can't figure out for the life of me why Hilary chose this piece for the new CD. Sure there are plenty of virtuoso moments, and some interesting and expressive passages, but speaking purely as a layman, a member of the ignorant public that is, the piece as a whole just doesn't seem to hang together. Everytime it starts down an interesting path it just seems to fizzle out and wander, and at times even Hilary herself seems to wander from the piece and sort of disengage.

It doesn't help that she didn't write any liner notes for this CD and has been her usual practice in the past. A few insights from her as to why she feels so passionate about Elgar would have been welcome and certainly gone a long way towards explaining why she recorded it.

Most of the reviews I've read have been generally positive although a few have pretty much panned the whole CD and questioned Hilary's ability to pull off this concerto off. I have to admit that I wondered about that myself, but as luck would have it I found one of the performances cited by some of the critics as worthy of the piece on Rhapsody and was able to give it a listen. It's an old Albert Sammons recording that is supposed to be one of the greatest ever made of this concerto, and as far as I'm concerned it doesn't fare any better.

I don't know, I just get the feeling I'm missing something here. When Hilary Hahn recorded the Stravinsky Violin Concerto that was a revelation to me (the ignorant public) and quickly became one of my favorite pieces. When she recorded the Bach Violin Concertos (which some critics complained "were played too fast", a comment which has always reminded me of the "too many notes" line from Amadeus) it seemed she brought some freshness into roads well travelled. But with the Elgar...I can't find it. Whatever she found in the piece is still a mystery to me. I don't feel let down, though, and who knowsl, maybe after a couple of dozen more listens it'll come to me.

So let me put on my music critic's hat here and make a recommendation. The Lark Ascending is beautifully played, full of expression and light as a feather. If you don't have The Lark in your collection it is almost worth the price of the CD just for this piece alone. On the other hand, if you're not a confirmed Hilary Hahn fan or just a new Hilary Hahn fan, then this is probably not the CD for you, and certainly not the CD to start your new Hilary Hahn collection. Go back a year and get the Bach Concertos with Jeffrey Kahane and the LA Chamber Orchestra. And don't worry if she plays too fast, it'll grow on you.