Top Ten Living Songwriters

A few months ago Paste Magazine released an issue listing the 100 greatest living songwriters. Of course, this got me thinking, so here, for your reading pleasure, are my top 10 greatest living songwriters, right now (it’s always best to add the “right now” in there, because “best of” lists are always subject to change). Please feel free to add your own list, mention those I forgot, call me an idiot for including/excluding someone, or whatever else comes to your mind in the comments.

1. Bob Dylan
Favorite Album: Blood on the Tracks
Favorite Songs: “Tangled up in Blue”, “Shelter from the Storm”, “Visions of Johanna”
Comments: What is there to say? Dylan is the iconic songwriter. He has so many high points throughout this career it’s impossible to narrow it down. From the absurd to the poignant, his lyrics always make you think and his composition is always perfect. I had the chance to see him live a few years ago and it was an incredible experience. Listening to him play “Like a Rolling Stone” gave me an amazing feeling of connection with all the people over the years that have heard that song and identified with it. The man is a legend.

2. Paul McCartney (The Beatles, Wings, Solo)
Favorite Album: Let it Be
Favorite Songs: “Let it Be”, “In My Life”, “Norwegian Wood (This Bird has Flown)”
Comments: Again, how do you narrow down a career like McCartney’s? My focus with him is mostly on his time with The Beatles, but he has been a prolific songwriter since then as well. McCartney, as well as Dylan, is responsible for so much of our shared culture and our understanding of pop music. There couldn’t be a list like this without his inclusion.

3. Paul Simon (Simon & Garfunkel, Solo)
Favorite Album: Graceland
Favorite Songs: “Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes”, “American Tune”, “Slip Slidin’ Away”
Comments: While all of the songwriters on this list are unique and have constantly sought to expand their musical styles, none have delved into world music or sought connections with genres outside their own as much as Paul Simon. A perfectionist, his lyrics are always insightful, brimming with humor and heartache, and his music always manages to be complex and challenging and yet remain at its heart pop music.

4. John Prine
Favorite Album: Sweet Revenge
Favorite Songs: “Souvenirs”, “That’s the Way that the World Goes ‘Round”, “All the Best”
Comments: Picking a favorite album is hard with Prine. He’s the type that you really need a good best of CD to really understand. He’s been writing great music since the early ‘70’s. His wit and humor shed a new light on difficult times and laughter in better ones. The previous 3 mentioned on this list seem untouchable because they’re such celebrity, but Prine, even though he’s been recording great music for 30 years, is more down to earth. He’s the poet for the common man.

5. Jeff Tweedy (Uncle Tupelo, Wilco)
Favorite Album: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Favorite Songs: “Outtasite (Outta Mind)”, “Jesus, etc”, “The Late Greats”
Comments: Jeff Tweedy has become a golden boy of modern rock music. After his work in Uncle Tupelo, often considered the driving force behind the Alt-country movement, he formed the band Wilco and has evolved his musical style with each album. He has moved right near the top of the list of artists who can experiment with feedback and even noise and still turn it into great rock songs.

6. Tom Waits
Favorite Album: Rain Dogs
Favorite Songs: “Come on up to the House”, “Old Shoes (& Picture Postcards)”, “Time”
Comments: If you sat down and listened to everyone on this list you would probably come away saying that Tom Waits was the strangest, and you’d probably be right. No one else on this list has experimented the way that Waits has over his long career. His style ranges from folk to polka, from gospel to piano bar lounge music. His lyrics often tell sordid tales of people on the wrong side of the tracks. He is the musical equivalent to Charles Bukowski or straight whiskey. He is an acquired taste but one that is well worth the time.

7. Jay Farrar (Uncle Tupelo, Son Volt, Solo)
Favorite Album: Straightaways
Favorite Songs: “Windfall”, “Caryatideasy”, “Gramophone”
Comments: The other big name from Uncle Tupelo, Jay Farrar has not reached the pinnacle his counterpart did. Most thought Farrar would be the golden boy to save rock music, and while I tend to identify with him more, Tweedy won the badge in the critic’s eyes. Ever since his Uncle Tupelo days as a teenager he has always sung and written as a man far older than his age. His songs sing of blue collar heartache and carry the feeling of sitting alone at closing time at the local bar. He captures this mood better than just about anyone.

8. Sufjan Stevens
Favorite Album: Illinois
Favorite Songs: “In the Devil’s Territory”, “The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades is out to Get us”, “Decatur, or, Round of Applause for your Stepmother”
Comments: In a very short time Sufjan has released several albums. Among them are Michigan and Illinois, two releases in his plan to release one album for each of the 50 states. His musical style ranges from lush instrumentation to a simple banjo strum and voice. His lyrics touch on faith, loss, joy, and everything in between. He is one of the most talented musicians I’ve seen in a long time and I’m looking forward to what I hope is a long career.

9. Sam Beam (Iron & Wine)
Favorite Album: Our Endless Numbered Days
Favorite Songs: “Passing Afternoon”, “Muddy Hymnal”, “Naked as we Came”
Comments: Beam is a born songwriter. His first album, The Creek Drank the Cradle, was recorded on a 4-track in his home. It is a soft recording with hushed vocals accompanied by guitar, banjo, and mandolin, but it speaks volumes. This style continues on his later releases, but he turns it up a bit on a few songs and it creates a wonderful mix. His music is the type that fills the room you are playing it in and it is hard to do anything else but listen.

10. Ben Harper
Favorite Album: Fight for your Mind
Favorite Songs: “Pleasure and Pain”, “By my Side”, “Ground on Down”
Comments: While he can border on cliché at times, especially with his political themed songs, Ben Harper has a knack for writing accessible songs about everyday life and events. His music is dynamic, as shown especially on his newest album Both Sides of the Gun: one song is funk the next folk and the last all out rock. He may not be the headiest songwriter around, but he’s always one I enjoy listening to.

So, that’s that. I realize now that I’ve finished with the list that, aside from the length (sorry about that), there are no female artists on it. I thought of including Gillian Welch, Ani DiFranco, and Emmylou Harris, all of whom I’ve enjoyed in the past, but I don’t know enough about them to make an intelligent entry. So…please leave me some artists/albums that I should check out in the comments. Thanks and I hope you enjoyed the list.

A Commuter's Dream

It came true for Dan Ruefly last night. A contest was held to see who had the worst commute story over the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, which spans the Potomac River between Maryland and Virginia. The winner got to detonate the bridge. Well, not directly, he pushed down a plunger that gave the signal for the demolition crew to do their work, but close enough, right? Ruefly’s winning commute was crashing into a tractor trailer and then having to wait in the back of the ambulance as it sat in traffic, unable to get to the hospital. My favorite runner up story: Stuart Roy was driving along the bridge when a landscaping truck going the opposite way hit a bump and sent a pitchfork flying through the air and into his windshield. Now that’s a bad commute.

You can read more in this article. I love the fact that despite the authorities' best efforts, people still showed up with chants of “Blow it up!” to watch the bridge be destroyed. I can understand. It’s one of those moments that doesn’t come very often…the chance to exact revenge on a headache causing inanimate object. I’m glad that Mr. Ruefly was able to get his last night.

Don't Throw it out Just Yet

In this article in the Weekly Standard, columnist Louis Wittig makes an observation about the power of the blogosphere to influence politics and culture on a mainstream level in America. He compares the recent Snakes on a Plane phenomenon (see my previous post for more) with the liberal blogoshere in an attempt to show that the effect is basically nil: politicians were not elected because of the efforts of left-wing blogs and Snakes on a Plane only garnered around $15 million its opening weekend. His ultimate reason as to why is:

“People go to the blogosphere because they can't find a sizable number of people in their everyday, off-line lives that are as enthusiastic as they are. The blogosphere gathers together atypical fans and brings them together in what quickly becomes a broadband echo chamber. The louder and more intense the online community gets, the farther it's likely drifting from what is happening offline.”

This may be true, but what Wittig is overlooking is the fact that this echo chamber wasn’t available before at all. Before the internet, if you were overly enthusiastic about something and couldn’t find anyone else that was, you probably just kept it to yourself. Now, anyone with an idea can link to people all over that might share their passion. Snakes on a Plane, as stated in the article by a fan lamenting its poor opening weekend performance, might never have happened without the online support. The fact that a bunch of geeks with the internet got the producers to re-film scenes says something in and of itself.

Perhaps the blogosphere is not going to elect major politicians or have far reaching cultural impact now, but it allows ideas to come to the surface that never would have before. Also, it’s quite young. There’s no telling what effect it may have in the future. At the very least, it is a useful tool and provides a medium to sort through ideas and hopefully cull the best from the dregs to come forward to national attention. I would be hesitant to throw it out so soon as an influential medium.

On Atlanta

This is a quote I stumbled across a while back by W.E.B. Du Bois from his book The Souls of Black Folks. I really love the way he portrays Atlanta. Anyone that works in the city, think of this tomorrow morning on your way to work:

"South of the North, yet north of the South, lies the City of a Hundred Hills, peering out from the shadows of the past into the promise of the future. I have seen her in the morning, when the first flush of day had half-roused her; she lay gray and still on the crimson soil of Georgia; then the blue smoke began to curl from her chimneys, the tinkle of the bell and scream of whistle broke the silence, the rattle and roar of busy life slowly gathered and swelled, until the seething whirl of the city seemed a strange thing in a sleepy land."

Poem of the Day III

I Go Back to the House for a Book
Billy Collins from Picnic, Lightning

I turn around on the gravel
and go back to the house for a book,
something to read at the doctor's office,
and while I am inside, running the finger
of inquisition along a shelf,
another me that did not bother
to go back to the house for a book
heads out on his own,
rolls down the driveway,
and swings left toward town,
a ghost in his ghost car,
another knot in the string of time,
a good three minutes ahead of me —
a spacing that will now continue
for the rest of my life.

Sometimes I think I see him
a few people in front of me on a line
or getting up from a table
to leave the restaurant just before I do,
slipping into his coat on the way out the door.
But there is no catching him,
no way to slow him down
and put us back in synch,
unless one day he decides to go back
to the house for something,
but I cannot imagine
for the life of me what that might be.

He is out there always before me,
blazing my trail, invisible scout,
hound that pulls me along,
shade I am doomed to follow,
my perfect double,
only bumped an inch into the future,
and not nearly as well-versed as I
in the love poems of Ovid —
I who went back to the house
that fateful winter morning and got the book.

© University of Pittsburgh Press

Breeding Ideology

The article linked to in the subject is another comment on the repercussions of falling fertility rates among certain groups. This time, it is liberal voters in the US. It claims that the Democratic Party may be in for some challenges if its potential voter base keeps declining. Since most people tend to follow the voting nature of their parents, if Democratic voters are not having babies that will make for a lot less Democratic voters in the future. The author, Arthur C. Brooks, sites the 2004 General Social Survey:

“[I]f you picked 100 unrelated politically liberal adults at random, you would find that they had, between them, 147 children. If you picked 100 conservatives, you would find 208 kids.”

Why is this? The easiest answer I can come to would relate to the lifestyle choices of each group. With nothing to back this up but my own perception, liberal, Democratic voters, tend to congregate in cities, and have a focus on their individual career instead of family, while conservative, Republican voters, live in suburbia or rural areas, and put focus on child rearing and family. This explains why perhaps having children is not as conducive to the “liberal lifestyle”, but it still doesn’t explain why liberal values correlate with low birth rates. I suppose the best explanation for that is the rejection of “traditional” values as outdated and a desire for progress, hence the term “progressives”, and family being a “traditional” institution. If you have other ideas, feel free to leave them in the comments section. The article doesn’t answer the question except through a humorous quote cited to “a liberal columnist in a major paper”:

"Maybe the scales are tipping to the neoconservative, homogenous right in our culture simply because they tend not to give much of a damn for the ramifications of wanton breeding and environmental destruction and pious sanctimony, whereas those on the left actually seem to give a whit for the health of the planet and the dire effects of overpopulation."

I suppose the appropriate conservative response could be, “yea, maybe it’s just because liberals can’t get any. Ha!” At any rate, it’s certainly an interesting topic. Of course, this is not a hard and fast rule. I have friends who are liberal and want/have multiple children and I have friends who tend to the conservative side and do not want children. But perhaps in general, the type that does not desire children tends to agree with the liberal side in our current political climate. The article goes on to show what will happen if the current trend continues and basically rules out any future victory for the Democratic Party. I think the pendulum effect will come into play, though: as one political viewpoint reaches the mainstream there is always a reaction, even if it has to come from folks whose parents would be ashamed of their voting record.

Another interesting aspect of this phenomenon is that it has been noted for some time now in Europe. The aforelinked (did I just create a word? Cool.) BBC article lists the sustainable birthrate level in Europe to be 2.1 children per woman and shows most countries at a much lower level (anywhere from 1.29 in Greece to 1.99 in Ireland). This certainly could have an effect on the political climate of Europe, but as Niall Ferguson, professor of History at Harvard, writes in his article “The Origins of the Great War of 2007” (oh, and sorry for all the doomsday stuff lately, guess it’s just been on my mind), it could have a much larger effect as well. He sites that while the population of Europe is falling on the whole, the Muslim population is on the rise and this could play into the cause of a major global struggle. He writes:

“In 1950, there had three times as many people in Britain as in Iran. By 1995, the population of Iran had overtaken that of Britain and was forecast to be 50 percent higher by 2050”

Great, so just on the horizon we’re going to have the great Redneck vs. Islamofascist wars to look forward to. Man, that could make for some interesting satire…but I will refrain. Again, I don’t think that we should over generalize. Not every child of Republican parents is going to vote Republican and most children of Muslim parents are not going to be terrorists, but the statistical trends do lead to interesting analysis and you can’t deny that the more people you have of a certain ideology, the stronger that view will be in the world.

I would be interested to see if any similar trends took place in history. I would imagine only recently have we been at a point with such wealth, not to mention multiple birth control solutions that this could even be a factor. Probably what you would find in history is the forceful removal of an idea via limiting the breeding process. It’s interesting to see it happening voluntarily now and only time will tell which way it will swing.

Iran

The article linked here, titled “August 22, Does Iran Have Something in Store?” is well worth the read. I’m getting around to this a bit late as the article was published in the WSJ on August 8, 2006, and the date the article speculates about is tomorrow, however it still has interesting insight into the nature of the Islamist Fascist movement and Iran specifically. The article, by Bernard Lewis a well respected professor Emeritus at Princeton who is considered one of the preeminent authorities on the Middle East, describes that the probability of a nuclear encounter with Iran is far greater than it was during the Cold War. His reasoning is that during the Cold War there was the idea of Mutual Assured Destruction. If one side started launching warheads, the other would reciprocate, and soon there would be nothing left. Lewis claims that this theory is useless now because we are dealing with an enemy that sees destruction as positive an outcome as victory. He sites an example of this thinking:

A passage from the Ayatollah Khomeini, quoted in an 11th-grade Iranian schoolbook, is revealing. "I am decisively announcing to the whole world that if the world-devourers [i.e., the infidel powers] wish to stand against our religion, we will stand against their whole world and will not cease until the annihilation of all them. Either we all become free, or we will go to the greater freedom which is martyrdom. Either we shake one another's hands in joy at the victory of Islam in the world, or all of us will turn to eternal life and martyrdom. In both cases, victory and success are ours."

His ultimate conclusion is that, while there’s a good chance it won’t happen, something big could happen on August 22. Why? The article reads:

This year, Aug. 22 corresponds, in the Islamic calendar, to the 27th day of the month of Rajab of the year 1427. This, by tradition, is the night when many Muslims commemorate the night flight of the prophet Muhammad on the winged horse Buraq, first to "the farthest mosque," usually identified with Jerusalem, and then to heaven and back ( c.f., Koran XVII.1). This might well be deemed an appropriate date for the apocalyptic ending of Israel and if necessary of the world. It is far from certain that Mr. Ahmadinejad plans any such cataclysmic events precisely for Aug. 22. But it would be wise to bear the possibility in mind.

While the August 22 date is interesting and makes sense, tomorrow will most likely not be the day that there is a major cataclysmic event, but it certainly is a starting point. Last week Iran began test firing missiles and announced a new military buildup called “Zolfaghar Blow" after the two-point sword of Ali, the cousin and son-in-law of the Prophet Mohammed. Today the news stories are that Iran is refusing to end its nuclear program (this has been the stance for awhile, but the deadline is now upon us). Iran is definitely building up for a fight and the scary thing is the leadership welcomes it. While I would hesitate to call this extreme ideology the majority opinion in the Muslim world, it certainly is not one solely relegated to the fringes as is evidenced by the radical nature of Mr. Ahmadinejad’s rhetoric (calling the holocaust a myth and speaking of awaiting the return of the 12th Imam). So, how do you combat an enemy that has no fear of dying and in fact welcomes it? How do we approach Iran? We’ve already made it clear we won’t accept a nuclear Iran, however another war is certainly not something we could handle right now and would be amazingly difficult. Let’s hope diplomacy works, because we’re right on the brink here.

Snakes on a Plane

I just returned home from the movie event of a generation. Never before has a movie inspired such anticipation, such excitement, such internet buzz. You think I'm kidding? The makers of this movie had no idea what they had on their hands until it got out to the internet that there was a movie in production called Snakes on a Plane starring Samuel L. Jackson. The combination couldn't have been more perfect to inspire excitement at the sheer absurdity of it. Word grew and it became an internet sensation: spoof posters, fan fiction, spoof trailers, and more all started circulating. The producers even held off any viewings until opening night. They didn't want anything to spoil the anticipation that had built for this first opening weekend. The movie was completed in September of 2005, but the producers held off releasing it and used the internet gossip to fine tune. The most notable addition is the famous line, which will undoubtedly go down in movie history, spoken by Samuel L. Jackson. We'll get there, don't worry...

There was definitely something akin to excitement in the air as we walked into the theatre tonight. The movie goers took their seats and prepared for what was to come. The opening credits began and the first bit of applause started when Samuel L. Jackson's name appeared on the screen...then "Snakes....on a Plane". Everyone cheered. I was happy that we had a good crowd. Snakes on a Plane is more of an event than just a movie. It won't be the same once the luster has gone a few weeks from now and certainly not when it comes to video. I liken it to a play. You have to be there to experience it. Once it's done, it's done.

Of course, the movie had everything you would expect. There was gruesome violence, campy dialogue, and every stock character imaginable. The theatre loved it. The audience added to the soundtrack with laughter, applause, and cheers. I will leave off any detailed descriptions because not knowing what to expect and then suddenly knowing exactly what will happen next is part of what makes this movie fun. Everyone is sitting there waiting for the inevitable to happen. And so the movie goes until it builds to the climax; the line we all came to hear...

The camera focuses on Sam Jackson, slight up-shot, he's got the look in his eyes that only Sam Jackson can get, the theatre was on the edge of their seats, and then... "Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!” The crowd erupted into a roar of cheers and applause. It was so loud that it drowned out the end of the line. I've never seen anything like it.

No other actor could have pulled this off. Sam Jackson played it perfect. You could even see the glint in his eye on certain lines; he knew what he was doing. This movie was wink-and-nod campy with just the perfect level of irony. Hollywood makes so many bad movies that try to be good, that it was refreshing to have a movie that didn't pretend to be anything but what it was, and it didn't disappoint. It was well worth my eight bucks...not just for the movie, but for the event.

Poem of the Day II

Kansas, 1973
~Floyd Skloot from The End of Dreams

My daughter nestled in a plastic seat
is nodding beside me as though in full
agreement with the logic of her dream.
I am glad for her sake the road is straight.
But the dark shimmer of a summer road
where hope and disappointment repeat
themselves all across Kansas like a dull
chorus makes the westward journey seem
itself a dream. She breathes in one great
gulp, taking deep the blazing air, and stops
my heart until she sighs the breath away.
The sun is stuck directly overhead.

I thought it would never end. The drive,
the heat, my child beside me, the bright day
itself, that fathering time in my life.
We were going nowhere and never would,
as in a dream, or in the space between
time and memory. I saw nothing but sky
beyond the horizon of still treetops
and nothing changing down the road ahead.

© Louisiana State University Press

The Parking Lot

This is what happens when you work in a small office and it's a slow news day. Poor Juan, he didn't get lunch until far later than usual on this day. Of course, neither did the rest of us, but sometimes that's what you have to give to make the joke work. My freshman year in college some guys released a skunk on our hall. Never before have you heard a bunch of freshman guys scream like little girls (I was asleep at the time and they woke me up). The guys that released the skunk got sprayed worse than anyone, but you have to admire their resolve.

As long as we're on this topic...here's a link to the best practical joke I've ever seen. Very impressive.

The "The" Phenomenon

I was waiting patiently in line to order my combo #1, value size, when I overheard what on the surface would appear to be a normal exchange, but when looked at deeper yields enough insight for...well, at least for a blog post. The woman next to me said plainly, "I'd like a salad with the ranch". "A salad with the ranch dressing?" the cashier repeated. "Yes," nodded the customer. As my title mentions, I call this the "The" phenomenon.

What exactly is it? It is the use of the article "the" on nouns that typically do not require the specificity that the article gives. While not grammatically incorrect, it is noticeable when used. In many cases this happens with people where English is not their first language, but it has also been known to happen with many a worried suburban parent when directing the challenge, with furrowed brow and intent stare, "have you been smoking the pot?"

What I find amusing about this is that the noun being given such importance usually does not deserve it, and when it does it is funny for precisely this reason. The woman in the Chik-fil-a was extremely excited about her ranch dressing. So much so that she used "the" to elevate it to a higher plane (at least I like to think it was intentional). This was no longer any other plastic container of mass produced ranch dressing, this was The Ranch Dressing. I half expected there to be an echo and a symphonic crescendo accompanying it.

I think we should make more of an effort to realize the "the" phenomenon in our day to day life. It makes life interesting and adds importance to otherwise trivial occurrences. So the next time a waiter asks what you would like to drink, answer, "I'd like the Coke, please". No one else may even notice, but I bet that Coke will be the best you've ever had. After all, it was The Coke. Oh, and after the waiter drops it off, be sure to tell him the thank you.

Wow, that was fast

A few days ago I posted on the sub par nature of sports interviews. Well, I guess ESPN heard me. Apparently they've hired an "interview coach" to train all sports casters in interview techniques. Each employee is required to take the three day seminar.

According to ESPN's senior vice president John Walsh: "I felt that we were missing key questions. We weren't getting key moments ... so I thought we needed help."

Ahh, the power of the blogosphere. I just didn't think success came that fast...

Poem of the Day I

Thoreau and the Crickets
~David Wagoner

He found them bedded in ice, in the frozen puddles
Among reeds and clumps of sedges in the marsh:
House and field crickets lying near the surface
On their sides or upside down, their brittle hind legs
Cocked as if to jump as free as fiddlers
In the final rain before winter. The ice
Had clarified the brown and green shades
Of their chitin and magnified
The thickened radiant veins of the forewings
On which they'd made their music
Those nights when he'd listened, half asleep,
To their creaking, their wise old saws
That told him over and over they were with him
And of him down to the vibrant depths
Of his eardrums and canals and the foundation
Of his house on earth. With his heels and hands
he broke the puddles around them carefully,
Cracking them loose and filling his coat pockets
With fragments like clear glass, holding them hard
As fossils in shale. he would take them home
And learn from them, examine their lost lives
With scales and ruler, tweezers and microscope
He would bring them back to order and pay homage
To all they'd been and left undone. He strode
Briskly and happily through the crusted lanes
And slipped through the paths of town, delighted
To be alive all winter, to be ready
And able to warm their spirits with his own,
But on his doorstep, reaching into his coat,
he lifted out, dripping with snow-melt,
Two hands full of wriggling, resurrected crickets
Crawling over each other, waving and flexing
Antennae and stiff legs to search his palms
For another springtime. For a while, he held them
And watched them wriggle drunkenly
And scrabble in half-death for what they imagined
He had to give, then put them gently
Again into his pockets and carried them
Back through the snow and ice to their cold beds.

from Ploughshares

Something Funny

This is a clip from a Late Show performance by the late comedian Mitch Hedberg. I've just recently discovered Mitch's comedy and wish that I had run across him sooner. It's a shame that he like so many other talented artists died before his time. At least he left behind some of his brilliance for the rest of us to enjoy:

About Service

I just finished watching the Movie About Schmidt. I have seen it several times before and always enjoyed it, and it is one of those movies that touches you each time you see it. It truly is a brilliant comment on our world and our place in it. The story follows the life of retired Warren Schmidt and the struggles he faces after retirement, losing his wife, and watching his daughter marry a man that he feels is not good enough for her. At the end of the movie there is a monologue where he ponders his life and comes to the conclusion that it is meaningless because he has touched no one. He tried to live a life the "right" way, only to find that he left the important things out. At the beginning of the movie he decides to sponsor a poor child in Tanzania. Most of the information we find out about Warren's inner life is narrated through letters he writes to the child, Ndugu, and most of the humor comes from his self absorption and ignorance. At the end of the movie he receives a letter back from the nun who is caring for the child and a drawing of two people holding hands done by Ndugu. He begins to cry, having received far more from the child than the $22 a month he sent to help.

This reminded me of a quote sent to me by a friend some time back by Oscar Romero:

"We should not feel superior when we help anyone. Those who give materially receive spiritually. There is an exchange of property that is understood only in a true spirit of poverty, which makes the rich feel they are close brothers and sisters of the poor, and makes the poor feel they are equal givers and not inferior to the rich. The giving is mutual, 'that there may be equality,' as St. Paul says."

I truly feel that when we practice service and give of ourselves to someone else we do receive as much if not far more from the person we are serving than they receive from us. It's easy to watch the movie and feel a certain bitterness towards Warren, and justifiably so in a sense, because he doesn't seem to realize how much he does have in relation to the boy he is sponsoring in Africa. I think it's important to remember, though, as I discussed with another friend this weekend, that suffering is relative. We all, in our own place, have our hardships, and it is wrong to feel that one's sufferings are invalid because they are seemingly so much less than another's. We are all struggling to make it the best way we can and should be sympathetic to those around us. I think if we all could practice some sort of service to those around us we would all benefit from the act. The good done through the service is just icing on the cake.

Sports Journalism 101

In an attempt to bring the somewhat lofty nature of my previous posts back firmly onto the ground, I wanted to comment on the sometimes hilarious answers sports reporters get from players. The other day I was listening to NPR, which I thoroughly enjoy, but where I always find the sports coverage to be funny. Perhaps it's my own bias, but they approach sports in the same hard news way they approach everything else. The facts of the game they are reporting about are delivered in the same way they would rattle off the key points of a Bush press conference, but with a somewhat lighter tone of voice. It's hard to describe, you just have to hear it. This, however, is beside the point. The other day they were interviewing Atlanta Braves pitcher Tim Hudson.

"What is your pitching strategy for tonight's game, Tim?" The reporter asked.

"Well, you know, I just plan to go out there and make good pitches and get guys out," Tim replied.

Um, yea. This is akin to a player being asked what's the key to winning today and answering, "Well, you know, I think the key will be to have more runs on the board than our opponent at the conclusion of the game. We'll stand a real good chance if we can do that, you know."

The thing is, though, no pitcher in professional baseball is stupid, even if their answers sometimes are. I'm sure Hudson had spent the afternoon (or at least plenty of time during the days prior to the interview) studying player charts on the opposing team: where they like pitches, where they don't, the strategy, etc. But how do you answer such a stupid question? I think that's the key here. Sports reporters...go after the real story. Stop asking the obvious: "You won the World Series! How do you feel?" "Um...good, I guess." Maybe even change the subject. Ask about what music the player likes...um, on second thought maybe that isn't such a good idea. At any rate, at least spice it up a bit.

A Free Bench

"We spend our life trying to bring together in the same instant a ray of sunshine and a free bench." ~Samuel Beckett from Texts for Nothing

Every so often you run across a quote that so captures a feeling or idea that it lingers with you for years to come. It hangs in the air like a long extinguished cigarette and when you think you've forgotten it, the scent surprises you with its strength.

This quote from Beckett captures the human condition better than just about any I've read. The beauty of the quote is that it can be seen differently depending on where you're coming from. If things are going well for you, then you can see your free bench, you feel the hardness of the wood, you hear the creak of the planks. You know the feeling of the sunlight: the warmth and the patterns it makes on your closed eyelids. Whatever that "thing" is, you've found it and the last thing you want to think about is its fleeting nature. Philosophy, religion, theories of life and good living; what do they mean now? You're resting, you're warm, you don't want to be disturbed.

However, when "reality" sets in, when you find yourself in a rut or the burdens of day to day living are weighing heavy, then this image becomes an ephemeral one. It's something out of movies or books, not something that actually happens. You feel the ache for what you know could be if you could just... But the park is crowded and the sky is darkening and you really should be getting back to work.

All too often, it is the latter view that we have. And we search on. Perhaps the sad thing is not that we don't find our perfect combination of sunlight and an open resting place, but that we shoot so low. "All I want is..." But, what if we are destined for something far greater than anything we can imagine. Is it worth waiting for...just for a little longer? Biblical texts about storing up treasures in heaven and keeping our lamps trimmed and burning for Who is to come seem comforting, but what happens after Sunday? That image of the free bench, the warm sun beam, the rustle of the wind, and the distant sound of children's laughter drowns out the words of wisdom we heard. "If only I had that..."

We are eternal beings in a temporal realm. The place where these realities meet is our constant struggle.

A Beginning

This is the beginning.
Almost anything can happen.
~Billy Collins from "Aristotle"

I've been running alongside the bandwagon for a while now. I've seen some interesting things from the side of the road. I've enjoyed the shouts of those aboard and now I've decided it's time to hop on. What will come of this is anyone's guess. The next section of the poem mentioned above begins with: "This is the middle. / Things have had time to get complicated." Sometimes things get complicated sooner than others, but I hope this is a long ride.

Why start now? There are several reasons. I hope to use this as kindling of sorts to light my writing. I have been away from it far too long and perhaps the glint of the public spotlight will work my ego enough to keep at it. I hope to use this as a place to record the passing moments that all too often slip away. I figure this will be less of a personal record of my day to day activities and more a compendium of things I find interesting. My thoughts on culture, literature, politics, sports, religion, etc. will most likely grace these pages. I also hope to post poems I like with regularity, if for no other reason than to have something insightful to post, even if I am not the author.

What is the point of the title? Walker Percy is a writer I have long admired. His work in linguistics, philosophy, and his novels are all well worth the read. I like the idea of our existence finding meaning in the work of others. How many times have you been to a place and been unimpressed only to discover that an author you admire has written about it. Suddenly, it is not just a lonely, dusty side road, but a gleaming city. There has been a connection made between you and a stranger. You get the warm feeling of an inside joke. Somehow, it matters. This is the crux of art, in my opinion, the ability to touch someone else who has shared in a similar experience. Writing is a solitary activity, but its bounty is a rich connection. I hope all who stop here will be like the man on the train and hopefully find some sort of small connection with the greater world.