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Who are these people?

8/17/2012

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Today, I was reading an article in The Morning Sentinel when I came upon this:

"Romney, who made millions of dollars heading the private equity firm Bain Capital, is skilled at extracting money from supporters.

His Wednesday midday event in Charlotte drew more than 100 people who paid between $2,500 and $50,000 each, netting his campaign about $1.5 million. That night, a somewhat larger crowd at a swank club overlooking Birmingham, Ala., generated more than $2 million, campaign aides said." (emphasis added)


I ask you, who cares THAT MUCH about who is President?  Even at my most passionate, I have never yet cared enough about a political cause or candidate to fork out $2,500, much less $50,000 to support it or them.  What kind of person does that?  Well, first you'd have to be filthy rich.  The only things I can afford to spend that much money on are food, healthcare, and my mortgage.  Even then, no single grocery store bill is $2,500.  Nor can I afford to pay that much to a hospital in one lump.  $2,500 means a two-year payment plan, brother.  So these have got to be incomprehensibly wealthy people.

Secondly, as stated in my prior post, The Puppet Presidency, the President doesn't really have any power at all to implement his own ideas.  He is controlled by someone or something beyond his will.  Well, to be willing to pay $50,000 to support a candidate, you've got to be expecting some direct and tangible return on investment to occur within the next four years.  You're bidding to be one of the puppeteers who are going to make the marionette President dance.  And I'm very sure that I, and most of my peers, can't afford to buy so much as a single string of that control bar.

And I love this:  upon looking up the word "marionette", I have just learned that the term for a marionette's puppeteer is "MANIPULATOR".

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Tribulations of a Small-Town Lawyer

8/15/2012

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As I stood cheek-by-jowl in the hotel elevator in NYC, with 2nd-year law students packed like woolen sardines participating in some kind of job fair, I thought of offering them an interview at O'Donnell Lee Global Headquarters in Waterville, Maine.  But I didn't have the necessary equipment with me to test their carpentry, electrical, photography  and web-development skills.  For this morning at my firm, I have so far screwed the entry path steps back down, rehung the paper towel holder on the 1910 lath & plaster wall in the public restroom, and replaced a light bulb in the hallway.  Later, we have on tap a photography session in the conference room, where I will put my BFA in photography and my sense of humor to work to capture portraits of my three newest staff members for our website.  And later, there is the editing of the site to add the photos.

Now, can I squeeze in some time for final title updates and policies?
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Webtivism and Blogging

8/14/2012

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When I first started this, I was trying to make The Daily Consternation something like a print version of The Daily Show, wherein I would generally migrate my news headline-mocking from Facebook to here.  I was seeking to gain more control than Facebook afforded.  But a key feature of riffing on news headlines is being able to link to news articles in such a way that the headlines are displayed in a little window the way Facebook does it - and I haven't been able to figure out how to replicate that here.
Next, as you can see, keeping up the "Daily" part is difficult.  Blogging takes a lot of time.  I really wish I could type as fast as I think.
And then, I failed at the "Consternation" part, since I have spent a hefty amount of time on praise and enthusiasm over joyous things rather than continual dismay and concern over the idiocies of humanity (which I still comment on on Facebook from time to time).
What we have instead is Webtivism.  This is another offshoot of my midlife crisis, which has been ongoing since turning 40.  Upon realizing that my life is finite, and that I'm now at the point where I notice the minutes ticking off the clock in The Final Countdown.  And I began to wonder at the worth of every minute spent.  I began to wonder if I could be, on any level, influential.  If I could do anything that would outlast my time on this Earth, if only for a month or maybe a year.

Well, I was spending a lot of time every night clicking around on the internet, cycling through the same sites repeatedly looking for gratification.  Like a mouse in a cage pressing some pedal that would distribute a treat every 20th push.  And at the end of the night, I'd learned nothing, done nothing, and was unsatisfied.  Since the internet came along, I've marveled at the fact that now, for free almost, I could communicate with the entire world in a manner formerly reserved to the very rich or famous.  And yet I was squandering it.  Numerous times I considered building a personal website, even before Facebook, but the technical challenges and expertise necessary for even something rudimentary were daunting.  Well, along came Weebly and made things like this site a piece of cake.
So I decided to turn my internet/computer noodling to useful purposes.  To spend the same amount of time I was wasting on equally digital things with purpose.  Hence, I applied my efforts to areas of historical preservation, promotion of the arts, furtherance of local business, ending the Drug War, and helping others find useful information about Maine.  And also to making people laugh.  These efforts are present on this site and the others listed on the "Other Site & Pages" link.  And that's what I call "Webtivism."  Internet activism.  Fighting middle-age with technology.
And I'm beginning to be encouraged by the results.  People from afar have begun contacting me with questions about Winslow History, or to contribute historic materials to the Town.  The hits on this site have risen to a steady flow, with occasional spikes of over 100 or even 200 visits in a day.  Some of the blog posts have garnered quite a few Facebook Likes, though I am blind to the identity of the Likers.  And I've seen myself quoted once or twice on other's blogs or Facebook pages.
So I suppose I'll continue for now, as I'm pressing on the pedal and being rewarded fairly frequently.  But I'm still waiting for a rich venture capitalist to call me and say, "Tom, I like your idea for this Gymnopedie thing...."

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Observations on New York City

8/13/2012

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I just spent a wonderful week in New York City; my second visit to this extraordinary place.  Thanks to our wonderful principal underwriter - my mother-in-law - we had the luxury of taking in Newsies, Peter & The Starcatcher, Phantom of the Opera, and (except I declined) Evita.  All were amazing.  I spent the Evita time at the Museum of Modern Art, where I communed with many paintings and photos I spent years of undergraduate school analyzing and memorizing.  We also checked out the Central Park Zoo and rode the free ferry by Lady Liberty.  My daughters danced one morning at the Broadway Dance Center, and we took tours of Juilliard and New York University.  Both of those institutions wowed us.  NYU even motivated my wife and I to long to go back to college.

But, on both trips, one of my favorite things to do in New York is just walk and wander.  And I have a lot of deep thoughts.  New York is an incredibly efficient way to package humanity.  Every block is a little city in itself, with most everything you need to live your life.  The supply chain is amazing.  Huge trucks navigate narrow congested streets.  Other huge trucks take out trash.   There seems to be scaffolding on every block and always something under construction over your head.  New York City is not done.  There are new skyscrapers under construction everywhere.

The oldest buildings fascinate me most.  I marvel that the builders took the pains to adorn out-of-reach rooftops with elaborate sculptures and architectural flourishes.  They seem from a time when pride outshone utility.  I wonder what is up in the top floors, nestled in the uppermost turrets and under the peaked dormers.  I am in awe at the histories they house.  I have so far searched in vain for some kind of book, titled something like "100 Top Floors Of New York Skyscrapers."  I don't want one about super-luxurious penthouses.  Blah.  I want one about the mysterious, ornate historic building tops.  And my favorite of all New York buildings is The Flatiron.  The first time a saw it was in this 1904 photograph by Edward Steichen - The Flatiron - in my history of photography class at the University of Arizona.  A reproduction of this photo hangs in my office.  On our last visit to NYC, I made a pilgrimage and stood near the exact spot the photo was taken from.  I could hear the hooves of the carriage horses in my mind, and though no longer the tallest building in view, The Flatiron is still the most awe-inspiring.  

The three most common sites in NYC must be cabs, police, and signs.  And there are so many signs that they actually become imperceptible - visual background noise.  I mostly ignore them and look in store windows to determine what kind of place it is and what they carry.

Driving survival:  Drive with purpose.  In Manhattan, to show indecisiveness earns scorn.  Drive with conviction.  If you're going to miss your turn, do it boldly.  Just keep going and come around the block and try again.  But don't dawdle and peer with craned neck.

Front fender rule:  whoever has their front fender ahead of the other has the right of way.  Just put your blinker on and move over.  To hell with everyone behind you.  Corollary, if someone has their front fender ahead of you and starts moving over, don't take offense or honk, just yield and let them go.

Walking survival:  Pedestrian crossing signals matter.   Many cab drivers are seemingly psycho.  Green light - they floor it, weaving in and out, cutting across 3-4 lanes, accelerating through intersections.  Red light - they nose-dive the car with the brakes.  You know how, when watching Iron Man, there's a part of you that thinks, well even if the suit was capable of making turns and accel/decelerating that quickly, no human could have reflexes that fast? Wrong. New York cab drivers do.  And the suit is a Crown Victoria.   Yet pedestrians and cabbies alike heed the pedestrian crossing signals.  If it says walk and you step in front of a cab, they wait complacently.  If you step out on don't walk, they will honk, curse you out, and lurch the car at you for emphasis.  Never cross against the light unless you're suicidal or very, very daring, athletic, and observant.  That is how 40 mph cars, giant trucks, buses, bicycles, pedi-cabs and pedestrians coexist without a high death count.  And I recommend really waiting for the walk light.  Sometimes it's been a few second since a car flew by and some jackass walks right out like he knows what he's doing and everyone follows suit.  Then - surprise!  The cross-traffic still has the green light and all hell ensues.

Don't make eye contact with other approaching pedestrians.  You will collide.  Look beyond the people in front of you, at your destination.  Then, like magic, the hordes melt away before you, or flow around you like water around a stone in a stream.

Generally, don't worry.  There is nothing you can do to be safer.  Just follow my rule above about pedestrian crossing signals and that's all you can do.  All of New York City is implausible.  The buildings are too tall to stand.  The crowds are so big they'll trample you.  The water supply can't be sustained.  The electrical grid should fail any second.  A cab should careen onto a sidewalk full of people.  Race riots should break out any second.  A piece of building or an air conditioner should fall on your head.  Except none of that happens.  Everything just goes on okay.  And if you did worry, it doesn't matter.  There is nothing you can do.  So a sort of liberation sets in.

You can walk around with sound isolating earbuds listening to music with no problem.  There's nothing you really need to hear.  There's so much noise, that if someone actually honked at you - or a siren came, or gunfire, or shouts of warning - it wouldn't matter.  It would all blend in to the background noise.  And this I confirmed:  if you want a magical NY menagerie moment, put on the earbuds (or full headphones) and put Gershwin on the iPod - either Rhapsody in Blue or An American In Paris - and just watch the people, cars and buildings as you walk.  Suddenly, you notice every face, every expression, odd outfit, and impassioned gesture. Everyone becomes a character in an elaborate ballet. That Gershwin could capture the pulse of city life with sound is amazing - and that rhythm remains the same 88 years later.

The City is an amazing place.  One worth visiting for all people, just to have had the exposure to the distillation and concentration of all humanity's dreams and efforts.  There are many places I've visited and never desired a return, or visited numerous times and worn out everything I care to see.  New York is not one of those places.  I'm already looking forward to another visit in April, albeit with a group of high school drama and music students in tow.  And I'm confident I'll be visiting periodically for the rest of my life.
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Defeated by Music - AMF Salon Series III

8/2/2012

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AMF Program 8/2/12
File Size: 1031 kb
File Type: pdf
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They're crazy.  Completely crazy.  On August 2, I attended another Salon Series Concert of the Atlantic Music Festival - and the musicians defeated me.  That's because they engage in this tag-team gang-up.  I sit and watch.  Just one mere mortal and his observational faculties.  Then musicians start marching out and playing things.  Like the ultimate talent show ever.  Beginning at 9:00 PM, I stuck with them till 11:30, just after the amazing Carlos Avila and Jonah Kim teamed up again to deliver Brahms' Sonata for Piano and Cello No. 2 in F Major.  Later, on Facebook, I asked AMF (whoever the face behind the Page is) how long they kept going.  The concert ended at 2:00 AM.  Unbelievable.  Crazy.  And awesome.

For the second piece of the evening, guys came out and partly dismantled the grand piano in preparation for the torments it was to experience.  They slid back the top cover to a place where it straddled the strings, and allowed access to the guts of the piano.  This also moved the music rack back farther.  Then, out came Jade Conlee and Magdalena Wajdzik and squeezed side-by-side onto the piano bench.  They then proceeded to play the cacophonous Celesta Mechanism: Cosmic Dances by George Crumb.   This involved playing on different ends of the keyboard, tapping lightly on keys and then building in speed and force until virtually pounding on them.  They also reached inside the piano and strummed or plucked strings, maybe even banging on them.  It was certainly a wake-up call at the beginning of the concert, and it could have been the soundtrack to a footchase scene from The Bourne Identity or a James Bond film.

This was followed by a BEAUTIFUL song, "Mas que un Bolero",  sung by Ferzan Demircioglu and composed by Natalia Esquivel-Benitez, who I gather was right there in the audience, as a woman who seemed to fit the name arose, came up, and hugged the singer and shared the enthusiastic applause from the audience.

During the night we also got something of a mini-concert of Dicterliebe by Robert Schumann, as sung by one of my favorite AMF vocalists, William Goforth.  Somehow, Goforth reminds me a bit of a classical version of American Idol's Adam Lambert.  He is an amazing vocalist, and sings German in a very compelling way.  I have no idea the content of the lyrics, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.  Wenwen Du played piano.  She is amazing at the keyboard.  I subscribed to her page on Facebook, along with Jonah Kim, to see what other things they do throughout the year, and was startled to see one evening, while I was visiting New York City, that she was at the Disney Store in Times Square, about 1 block from where I was eating dinner.  What a small, funny world we live in.  Facebook is really a game-changer in a lot of ways.

Following Dicterliebe, was the jazzy, whimsical "What Kind of Dog Are You?", written by Andrew Thomas, who also played piano on the piece that evening.   The crowd loved it, and it was a humorous refreshment after the fairly heavy-duty Dicterliebe.

And this brought us to the last piece I could stay for, as I had to get home to bed and preserve some of my 42-year-old mind for work the next day.  I made it only to #9 out of the 23 scheduled works.  I stuck it out for another opportunity to see Carlos Avila and Jonah Kim play together.  They were again a powerhouse duo as they performed Brahms' Sonata for Piano and Cello No. 2 in F Major.

Here's the thing about Carlos Avila.  When he plays piano, the note starts before his finger presses the key.  You can see it coming.  It's like a tennis player winding up.  Arm stretched back, back arched, ball tossed gently skyward.  You feel anticipation knowing that ball is going to get whacked.

Avila plays piano in much the same way.  His whole body goes into each note.  You can see the note coming.  From where?  I don't know.  From beyond.  From some other universe.  The ether.  It's as I described in a previous post.  The Magic Portal effect.  There seems more to each note than just the mechanics of a key driving a hammer into a metal string.  There is passion in each tone.  Nuance.  His chi is focused like a martial artist.  And he plays through the note.  He has follow-through.  The music is noticeably enhanced by this commitment.  Each note is not just something that happens for a split second - with a beginning and an end to its existence.  The notes are like neutrinos traveling from the sun, passing briefly through us, and then continuing onwards to some other place.  You have the feeling that the music has been traveling through space and time since the inception of the universe and that Avila has briefly revealed it us.  Afterwards, you have the comfort and the awe of feeling that it continues to exist and will forever.  And always, as the last note of a movement or entire piece is fading into hushed silence, it as if, with your ears rather than eyes, you can "see" it receding into the distance until it passes beyond some sound horizon.

I would have loved to stay for the whole concert, but alas, the AMF artists ganged up and defeated me.   And I thank them for it.

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Atlantic Music Festival - American Masters

8/1/2012

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AMF Program 8/1/12
File Size: 311 kb
File Type: pdf
Download File

Two notes:

Leonard Bernstein:  Sonata for Clarinet and Piano.  It was introduced to us telling us that in it we'd hear some of the theme later developed into West Side Story.  True.  This piece was interesting in that, if West Side Story was a sculpture, it would be like walking up to a table and finding the broken pieces of the mold it was cast in.  You wouldn't quite be able to make out what the complete West Side Story would be like, but you'd get the vague impression of its dimensions and texture.  This Sonata is like the mold.



And secondly, the AMF performance of Appalachian Spring, which is the piece that got me off my butt and up to Lorimer Chapel once again, was totally satisfying.  The musicians gave it a beautiful and emotionally rich performance.


Oh, finally, somewhere I thought I saw an early draft of the program suggesting Barber's Adagio for Strings would be on the bill.  Thank God, I was spared that.  I must be the one person on Earth that can't stand the Adagio.  I was glad it wasn't played, though I would've endured it to hear Appalachian Spring.
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    The Daily Consternation 
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    Tom lives on the east side of the Kennebec River and works on the west.  He relocated from Arizona to Maine, by pure choice,  in 2001 and loves music and history.  He may change any viewpoint expressed on this site at will and without warning.

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