A Voice in the Choir

There was just one time when I looked up from my desk to find a movie star standing there waiting to talk to me.  Only once, but that was enough. It was Ned Beatty, whose birthday is today. He’s 76.

 Ned Beatty Sings
Ned Beatty Sings
Beatty is a character actor, and a good one.

He spends part of his year in Minnesota and somehow managed to get into the habit of listening to a daily radio program I worked on. He was in the office to talk to some other people about a film project and wanted to stop by to say “Hello”.

That was very kind of him, and memorable too. Obviously, since I’m still flaunting it today. Beatty’s “hello” resonated across the wide-open room, which makes sense because he claims in his bio he got into acting because he has such a loud voice.

Although his first show-business love, and his career focus now, is singing. Apparently, after several hundred film and TV roles as a character actor, Beatty has come full circle to the place where he started.

Beatty’s online bio says: “Singing was probably his favorite subject in school . He also sang in church, at weddings , in a quartet, ( they sang for their supper), the Louisville a cappella choir, and received a scholarship to Transylvania University to sing in their excellent a cappella choir, under the direction of Harvey Davis, a gifted musician and composer of modern Liturgical music. Ned loved to sing in that choir, but wasn’t particularly interested in attending classes in other subjects.”

And when I listen to him sing, I understand why he enjoyed to that show, since his music would have easily fit into our playlist. In other words, it’s not chart-topping material. He sounds like a straightforward singer, not one to add lots of showy embellishments. He sings like someone who got a kick out of singing in a choir – a singer interested in honoring the song and blending with the others, not necessarily in being in the center of attention or creating a spectacle.

Kind of like a character actor.

Are you a pop star, or a voice in the choir?

Ask Dr. Babooner

dr_babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

Yesterday was a national holiday and tomorrow, it’s the weekend.

The holiday was all about celebrating our independence, and the weekend is all about having unstructured time to pursue our interests. Yet today is a day when I’m supposed to work. I’m known around the office as a hopeless drudge – someone who always shows up for work and rarely complains about it. But right now I feel like I’m caught in an obligation sandwich with freedom on both sides and this stupid job commitment as the un-tasty center.

I could go to work anyway but I’m concerned that to do so would disrupt the freedom theme that was established yesterday. It might even be a betrayal of our national ideals – a crime worthy of harsh punishment. Our Uncle Sam wants us to feel as free as possible, as long as we don’t use that liberty to release sensitive information or communicate with unsavory characters overseas. Then we might find ourselves stuck in a Russian airport … forever. Which would be much worse than having to go to work.

Anyway, it’s not too late for me to change my plans. Very few people are going to be in the office, so I have some options.

  • Option 1: I could take the day off and call it comp time or a flat out vacation day. If I did that I’m sure I’d feel liberated and relaxed for the entire weekend.
  • Option 2: I could go to work but leave after a few hours to attend a “meeting” (on a golf course) and claim on my time sheet that I worked the entire day. No one will be the wiser, unless Uncle Sam is reading this letter, which I doubt, because who has time? He’s only one guy! And if I did that, I’d feel free AND clever AND devious, which is the same as normal freedom, but with an excitement boost because I’m sneaking around in order to get it.
  • Option 3: I could report for work as planned and stay the entire day. Very few people are going to be in the office tomorrow so I could get a lot of stuff done. And getting a lot of stuff done would help me feel a sense of freedom from all the other work obligations that have piled up over the weeks and months.

So I guess no matter which path I choose I’ll feel some sort of liberation. The question is – which one would make me happiest?

Freely,
Hopeless Drudge

I told Hopeless to take a hard look inside at his motivations and values, and to be prepared to accept that the most liberating option might actually be number three. Anyone who signs a letter “Hopeless Drudge” is probably the sort of person who simply loves to work, in which case option one would be a letdown and option two would appear to be freeing but would actually create an internal prison of disappointment and guilt.

Option three, however, would be a stress-reducer and would go a long way towards reducing clutter on the desktop, which releases endorphins and brings on feelings of exuberance. For Drudges, anyway.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

Exploded View

Today’s guest post comes from Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty.

Greetings, Civilians!

I want to share this old photo with you – it was taken from the capsule of Apollo 8 on Christmas Eve, 1968. It is an historic image of the Earthrise, as seen from the moon.

Image: NASA
Image: NASA

I’ve been thinking about this photo a lot.

I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that today is the Fourth of July. And I certainly don’t need to explain how I feel about exploding things! That fact that anybody, anywhere would willingly cause something to blow up violently completely concusses my safety-conscious mind!

It’s fair to say that anyone who invites me to go to Wisconsin to buy skyrockets with them, or wants me to watch while they set off a string of firecrackers, is going to get a stern lecture instead of the thrill they were seeking. I find nothing exciting about loud noises and the smell of gunpowder, except for the potential satisfaction i might get from shaming someone for putting us all in such danger.

Is it even possible to have an explosion-free Fourth of July?

I was going to say “go to a movie”, but there’s plenty of violence there. Grilling is an alternative, but some hot dogs do have a tendency to blow up. I have spent most of my adult life engaged in a public service campaign to discourage the very kind of celebration that seems to make up most of the Fourth of July. Not that I’ve had much success.

Sigh.

Why do we have to glorify the bomb? I blame it on human nature and the National Anthem.

As humans, we are enthralled by things that are loud and bright and dangerous. I know this is not a popular position, but we have to face it. The Star Spangled Banner has been misused, and its unfortunate popularity in a shortened version at sporting events has served to oversimplify the message and nullify the poetry. Yet it could be reclaimed so easily.

Here’s the part that we sing:

Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro’ the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watch’d, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro’ the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

Note that the rockets and the bombs come in at the most emotional moment in the verse. No wonder we’re so explodo-centric!

What if we brought forward some of the other verses of TSSB? The song is based on a four stanza poem by Francis Scott Key – “Defence of Fort McHenry“. And yet we only sing one of the stanzas!

The others are more poetic and less violent. In particular, here’s my favorite.

On the shore dimly seen thro’ the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream:
‘Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Why can’t we sing THIS stanza at a ballgame every now and then? In addition to putting great words (haughty, reposes) into the mouths of ordinary American sports fans, the key lines focus on a glorious dawn rather than bombs being hurled at the foe.

And if a simple sunrise doesn’t stir you, think of it in terms of the photo above – the sun revealing a rising Earth, with the USA front and center, if you wish.

In my safety-obsessed fantasies, we would adopt this sun-centric stanza as our standard verse for “The Star Spangled Banner” and gradually transition from having a bomb-worshiping culture to one that values a simple sunrise.

Is that too much to ask?

Yours in safety,
Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty

Seat of Power

As millions of Egyptians yell for their elected president to hand over his authority, I’m grateful on this 4th-of-July-eve that we still have a working mechanism in this country for the peaceful transfer of power and I wonder at the various ways people have decided in the course of history that one person or another will get to make the decisions.

Not a Very Comfortable Looking Place to Roost
Not a Very Comfortable Looking Place to Roost

The Scots have used various methods, including the sword and the bludgeon. This is the anniversary of the day in 1996 when Scottish people learned that they would be getting their precious “Stone of Destiny” back.

And here I thought “Stone of Scone” was the way a dyslexic barista refers the 2-day old pastry at Caribou.

But no, it seems The Stone of Scone is an actual rock that royal people have to sit on when they get crowned. So much for the comforts of rank. But whether the current stone is really the stone of legend and lore is open to question, since it has been stolen and moved back and forth over the border that separates Scotland and England. That’s a lot of travel for a chunk of Earth that weighs over 300 pounds. But it might have even more stamps on its passport if it is, in fact, “Jacob’s Pillow” stone from the Bible, as some have said.

Or maybe it’s a meteorite and is not of this Earth at all.

For a rock this thing has a remarkably complicated history. In addition to being stonenapped at least once, several decoy versions are rumored to exist in various places. The original perching place of kings and queens might truly be in Edinburgh Castle waiting to be transported back to London for the next coronation. Or that one could be a forgery and the real stone might be in the town of Arbroath, or maybe it’s hidden inside Dunsinnan Hill. Or perhaps J.K. Rowling had Harry Potter steal it, and it serves as a coffee table in one of her houses.

So the Stone of Scone remains mysterious. Even when you’re looking at it, you can’t be one hundred percent sure you’re really looking at it. But then that’s what you get when you invest so much power in an ordinary thing. It’s the sort of magical transformation that can only be accomplished through storytelling.

Describe your favorite chair.

Bear and Man

Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear who found a cell phone in the woods.

He's not coming to visit.
He’s not coming to visit.

H’lo. Bart here.

I saw this story about the researcher who had his messing-around-with-bears permit yanked because the higher-ups decided he was teaching us to get cozy with humans, which is not a good idea because it puts bears in danger.

I don’t know much about this case, but I can tell you for sure that some bears really don’t get it about people. I’ve heard about campgrounds where dumb bears are actually trying to get into cars. Strangers’ cars! No matter how many times you say “Don’t get into a car if you don’t know the person behind the wheel, and yet there they go, trying to peel off the doors sometimes because there’s a bag of Fritos in the back seat.

Yes, these are cars that belong to people those bears don’t know!

It used to be bears were bears and men were men but with animation and voice overs and Photoshop, sometimes even I’m fooled. There’s even a bear scented cologne. At least that’s what I think is going on at this website, but I don’t read German yet, so I’m not completely sure.

But some bears aren’t sure they’re really bears unless there are people around to take pictures of them and throw popcorn. Then there’s this one bear I read about who tried to break INTO a zoo.

Yes, there’s a lot of confusion out there about boundaries.

So everybody should know bears are wild animals. We aren’t pets and we’re not cartoon characters and we don’t think in complete sentences or talk like lummoxes or act like hairy versions of your best friends.

And I know you’re thinking that I pretty much do all those things I just mentioned. But that doesn’t mean I’m dangerously “habituated” to humans – far from it! I’ve learned to be cautious from dealing with people online, where everyone feels free to be their worst possible self. Thanks to that, I’m the most suspicious bear you’ve ever met.

And we’ve never met! Let’s keep it that way!

Your remote pal,
Bart

I agree that Bart is the wrong messenger for the Bears Aren’t People Campaign. But asking a normal bear to make the case for less bear-human interaction would be just plain scary.

Name an animal (or person) you’d like to keep at arms’ length, and why.

Take My Hand

Today is the birthday in 1899 of the musician and songwriter Thomas A. Dorsey.

With his preacher father and church organist mother, he certainly had an upbringing rich in religion and songs of praise. But when it was time to get a job he went into the secular music world instead and made a name for himself there as a pianist and singer called “Georgia Tom”.

Dorsey put together a band to play behind Ma Rainey, performed in jukejoints and wrote bawdy (for the time) popular songs, but there was a personal cost that was most evident in the two breakdowns he suffered.

keyboard

He kept trying to return to a way of life that spoke to his roots, playing in churches and becoming the band director for two congregations. Dorsey couldn’t keep his street and social music out of the mix, and he raised eyebrows by bringing some blues to the people in the pews. It doesn’t take much to get people talking. There was concern that he was introducing the devil’s music to a sacred setting.

In 1932, his his wife Nettie and infant son died in childbirth. His response to this immense personal tragedy was to write new words to a hymn, “Maitland”. The result was Take My Hand Precious Lord, a song that was sung at the funerals of Martin Luther King Jr., LBJ, and Mahalia Jackson.

And of course it is still sung today.

Thanks primarily to this one tune, Dorsey is considered “The Father of Gospel Music.” And if Dorsey is Gospel Music’s father, Mahalia Jackson could be considered its mother.

Dorsey wrote hundreds of sacred and secular songs, both the words and the music, though he is primarily known for this one set of lyrics. As long as people turn to religion and music for consolation in dark times, the name Thomas A. Dorsey will be connected to Take My Hand, Precious Lord.

If you could be known forever for writing one song, what song would you want it to be?

Asteroid Busters

NASA has issued an “all hands on deck” call for assistance in finding possibly threatening asteroids and developing plans to confront them. This “Grand Challenge” acknowledges the power of crowd sourcing to solve difficult problems. If two heads working on a conundrum are better than one, two billion heads applied to the same stumper are a great marketing opportunity for your brand.

The deadline to respond to NASA’s Request for Information is July 18th.

That’s coming up fast – almost as fast as a careening out-of-control asteroid bent on Earth’s destruction! So you’d better get started on your schematics. Get out a sharp pencil and a big piece of paper. All you have to do is design a system that will …

“… capture and de-spin an asteroid with the following characteristics:

  • a. Asteroid size: 5 m < mean diameter < 13 m; aspect ratio < 2/1
  • b. Asteroid mass: up to 1,000 metric tons
  • c. Asteroid rotation rate: up to 2 revolutions per minute about any axis or all axes.
  • d. Asteroid composition, internal structure, and physical integrity will likely be unknown until after rendezvous and capture.
Image: NASA/Advanced Concepts Lab
Image: NASA/Advanced Concepts Lab

Simple, eh? Maybe so.

The beauty of crowdsourcing is that there are brains out there that will see this problem from just enough of a skewed angle to come up with an approach that no one else could think of.

The ugly of crowdsourcing is that millions of others will mimic each other with the same obvious but impractical and flat-out dumb idea.

NASA has given us a head start, releasing this image of one possible approach to creating a super-sophisticated space vehicle that could capture and transport a speeding space rock.

The idea has its roots in childhood play. It can’t be a coincidence that it looks so much like this extremely simple ball-in-cup game. Who didn’t play this as a kid? Or as an adult?

ball-in-cup

My problem with this approach is that I hated the ball-in-cup game. I found it incredibly frustrating and ultimately (because I couldn’t do it), boring.

I would never go this way with the Grand Asteroid Challenge. I’d go back to the solutions we tried on the hot, muggy, buggy nights of my youth and launch a giant sheet of super-sticky double-sided Asteroid Fly Paper. NASA could partner with 3M on this one. Building a thin but tough, mobile, super-sticky landing strip and putting it in the path of an onrushing asteroid wouldn’t be simple, but I believe it would be extremely satisfying. And the larger you make your sheet of Asteroid Fly Paper, the greater the chance you’ll get the asteroid you don’t expect – the one that wasn’t on your radar.

Once they’re trapped in the goo, we can examine freshly humbled space rocks to our heart’s content.

And no, I don’t know how we’ll get them off the paper, or even get close to them without getting stuck ourselves. That would be a DIFFERENT Grand Challenge.

How would you capture and control dangerous asteroids in space?

Beechly’s Betrothal Brainstorm

Today’s guest post is really a travel pitch from a partisan player, tourism-wise. I usually refuse to take these blatantly promotional offerings, but it’s late and I’m stuck for a blog entry. Plus, the writer is well known to us all as Minnesota’s 8th district Congressman, Loomis Beechly.

Beechly Officiates While Couple Canoedles.
Beechly Officiates While Couple Canoedles.

Greetings Constituents,

This is the time of year when Minnesota’s picturesque 9th district fills up with temporary new residents.

Welcome, cash cows!

I say this in the most loving way possible because we do rely on you to drop a bundle of dough while you are visiting the district. Our people are both desperate and grateful for your support, so whether it’s a wildly expensive lunch on a dock or an overpriced boat excursion or an extremely costly but smallish cup of earthworms, I hope you’ll be quiet and gladly fork over the bucks whenever we ask and not make a fuss about it.

After all, you’re on vacation! What’s the point of getting mad?

I also want to acknowledge that this is Pride Weekend in the Twin Cities, and coming as it does at the end of a week that included the Supreme Court’s overturning of the Defense of Marriage Act, now seems like the perfect time for someone to suggest in a public forum that a group of people who really set the tone for style in our culture ought to initiate the yet-untried concept of in-the-lake weddings.

And I don’t say this merely because I represent all the water surface area in the state or because gay weddings are bound to be outrageously spendy affairs or because religious people might think they’ve cornered the lake ceremony market with their baptisms and making shallow water the go-to place for gay and lesbian unions would be a subtle but delicious in-your-face move, but just because this is something that could become amazingly stylish and it hasn’t been tried before.

As far as I know.

I would love it if two people getting hitched with their four feet in six inches of water at some Minnesota resort became a genuine GLBT (Gay Lake Betrothal Tradition).

Of course we’d have to think of some way to make this work in the winter, too. Possibly involving chainsaws, waders and heated tents.

Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly

Describe the classiest (or most memorable) wedding you’ve attended.

Ask Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

Ann_Landers baboon 2 copy

Summer has just begun and I feel like its already over.

The rain has been constant and the mosquitos have been huge. I’ve been working like crazy at my job and spending the rest of my time cutting up trees knocked over by the violent storms we’ve been having. Plus, I had to eat the entire contents of my freezer in one afternoon last weekend because the power went out. I still feel dangerously overstuffed and on the verge of exploding, I can’t sleep and I think I gained 40 pounds in spite of all the physical activity.

What’s worse, I made a bet with my sister-in-law that the Supreme Court would uphold the Defense of Marriage Act, and now that I’ve lost I’ll have to pay her by watching every minute and taking detailed notes on every episode in her boxed-set collection of Season 3 of Glee.

I haven’t done any of the enjoyable warm weather stuff I said I was going to do back in February when I was dreaming about right now, and I can feel the time slipping away.

This might be the worst summer ever.

Dr. Babooner, I know my attitude stinks and I’m focusing on all the wrong things. How can I deal with my frustration, guilt and regret, and still have a good summer in the (almost no) time that remains?

Sincerely,
Fallen Behind

I told Fallen she should resist the temptation to grade her summer. Once you establish a set of expectations you become too much like the stock market – everything is measured against what you thought would happen rather than what actually does happen, and you become tiresome to other people who are not in on the secret reasons for your suffering.

In Summertime, adding any project to your “to-do” list should require Congressional Action – that’s the only way to keep your schedule clear.

And you should never, ever make political bets with anyone. Especially not a relative. But if you have to wager with punishment by “Glee,” choose Season One, which was much better than Season Three.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner.

Rainbow TV

Today’s guest post comes from Steve Grooms

It is fun and instructive to consider the social messages hidden in TV commercials. The people who make commercials concentrate so hard on making the big sell that they often send other messages that are more interesting than the main one.

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In earlier discussions here on the Trail we noted that it now seems that men are fair game in ads, often being depicted as buffoons. Women are usually presented as wise and adult. That, of course, is a total switch from the way gender was presented in the earlier days of television. Women then were shown as silly, empty-headed shoppers whom their husbands tolerated because they were attractive.

I easily remember when African-Americans never appeared in commercials. When that became controversial in the 1970s, blacks began showing up in ads, especially if the ad featured several white faces with maybe one dark one among them. Happily enough, over the years blacks have appeared in so many commercials that I think few audience members pay any attention to blacks in ads now.

I was puzzled the other day when I noticed that relatively few Hispanics are shown in commercials. That seems odd, particularly in view of how politically important that demographic has become. Then I remembered that Hispanics have many Spanish language channels. Madison Avenue must feel that is where Hispanic actors should be prominent in commercials.

The issue that has intrigued me most is the still-touchy area of interracial dating. I have carefully watched commercials, hoping to spot the first one to show romantic partners of mixed races. To my surprise, in one week earlier this year I saw interracial relationships featured in two prominent commercials. Both are still running.

The first one that I noticed was a State Farm commercial that showed an Asian man partnered with a light-skinned African-American woman. And indeed, they have a child in a stroller. This is the ad where a mime tells the couple about a great Sate Farm policy. The infant in the stroller says, “Am I the only one here who finds it weird that the mime is talking? Freaky!”

Just days after seeing that commercial I saw a romantic, impressionistic commercial for Apple iPhones with cameras. That ad has many quick cuts, one of which presents an attractive young couple posing for a photo together. A Caucasian male is apparently dating a light-skinned African-American woman. Apple has a similar ad running now with a couple that very well could be biracial, but both young people are so Goth in appearance that nobody could say what races they represent! You have to look fast – it’s at the :46 second mark.

It was fun to see two commercials that were not afraid to show relationships crossing
racial lines, but I told myself that I would probably not live long enough to see a commercial with a black man married to a white woman. That flaunts the most potent racial taboo of all.

Well, I was wrong. There is a commercial now running for Cheerios in which a white woman is in a relationship with a black man, and they have a child. The ad cleverly pulls its punch by not showing the black guy and white woman in the frame at the same time, but that did not save it from controversy.

That ad by Minnesota’s own General Mills has ignited a firestorm of bigotry.

In spite of the controversy, General Mills defends the ad and continues to run it. I wonder how long it will be before this controversy seems odd to us all. And I wonder how many years it will be before we see a gay couple in a commercial.

Have you seen something interesting in a television commercial lately?