The Civil Wars - 'Billie Jean' at Luna Music

The afternoon before I flew back to LA after Matty's memorial, I was browsing twitter during a break from cleaning the house. At 5:22 PM, I read that The Civil Wars were playing a 5:30 in-store at Luna Music. Luckily, that's only about 3 blocks away. So, off I went.

This was the last of 4 tunes, a threadbare cover of MJ's "Billie Jean." I wish several things: that I recorded one of their original songs, that the sunlight wasn't so bright through the window behind them, and that I was capable of holding a small object still for a relatively short period of time. Still, the sound was decent and they were amazing. You should check out their record "Barton Hollow."

A Rare Sighting Of Actual Journalism

“Does the Administration not see at all how a President asserting that he has the right to kill an American citizen without due process, and that he’s not going to even explain why he thinks he has that right, is troublesome to some people?” Kudos to ABC's Jake Tapper for practicing actual journalism.

Tragic Rain In The Summertime

"And then I run 'til the breath tears my throat
'Til the pain hits my side
As if I run fast enough
I can leave all the pain and the sadness behind
I love to feel the rain in the summertime
I love to feel the rain on my face"

In 1988, I saw The Alarm open for Bob Dylan at The Indiana State Fairgrounds. Tonight, the chorus to "Rain In The Summertime" keeps playing hauntingly, over and over, in my head. I'll never listen to it again without thinking about this horrible, horrible event. I suppose accidents happen all over the world, everyday. But, when they hit so close to home, the sadness resonates. Thoughts and wishes to those involved and their families. Just awful.

Alfonzo 'Lonnie' Johnson - Got the Blues for Murder Only (1930)

Just a suggestion for Klinsi's playlist prior to his debut against Mexico next week in Philly. (h/t Brian Phillips from Run Of Play)

3 Billy Goats Gruff- Debt Ceiling Analogy from The Colbert Report

Last thing, hopefully, on the Debt Ceiling Capitulation. Colbert nails the fairy tale turned nightmare comparison at the end of this clip. So funny, I could cry. If I wasn't already so angry...

"Special Comment: The Four Great Hypocrisies of the Debt Deal"

Related to what I wrote yesterday, take it away Mr. Olbermann:

I Regret My Vote For President Obama

I regret the vote I cast for Barack Obama. There, I said it. No, not in November 2008. Democratic Candidate Obama was an easy choice over Old Man "Get Off My Lawn." My misjudgment occurred earlier, on May 6, 2008 in the Indiana Presidential Primary contested between Obama and Clinton.

A general election victory for either candidate would have been landmark from a historical perspective. Hilary Clinton's campaign had been cynical and self-righteous. She became easy to dislike. Meanwhile, Barack Obama delivered soaring speeches that promised revitalizing hope and fundamental change. Both of those things were in dangerously short supply across George W. Bush's America. I wanted to believe. But I failed to recognize that Mrs. Clinton was the more Progressive choice.

Ultimately, I blame myself. Critics warned that Candidate Obama was a blank screen upon which we projected our own ideas and ideals. And, man, was I ever guilty of that. Of course, he broke campaign promises. I'm told that's what politicians do. Disappointments abound: No accountability for thieving Wall St. thugs. No acknowledgement or precedent to prevent future torture. No government transparency. No Dream Act. No repeal of the devastating Bush tax cuts for the obscenely wealthy. Et cetera. I may write more on this later, once I further understand the details of this 'Debt Ceiling' capitulation.

But the reality that has been most disappointing to me, I could not have possibly foreseen. Candidate Obama was a fighter. He could take a punch, and respond. President Obama refuses to fight. The crazed Tea Party, and the tattered remains of the establishment Republican Party, throw tantrums and take the country hostage time and again. On each occasion, they get nearly everything they want and offer nothing in compromise. Jimmy Carter is starting to think this is a weak Presidency.

It's either that, or Barack Obama has been a center-right conservative all along. Perhaps he is a fighter, just not for me or the principles I hold dear. Maybe I'm just now opening my eyes too see the truth.

My Day Out At The Gold Cup Final

Here's my perspective of the 2011 Gold Cup Final in Pasadena, CA. This is my first attempt at shooting & editing a video (no kidding, huh?) As a result, I'm not certain which is worse: my skills or my equipment. Nevertheless, I had a blast putting this together. Obviously, I make no claims regarding the music or the non-fuzzy portions of match footage.

The final tune, "Over" is from my guys Mr. Kinetik and Rusty Redenbacher of Tornado Alley. Their entire album, "The Professor And The Hustler," is available as a FREE download here. Go get that.

We Have To Do Better Than This

The eight top 'L.A. Now' headlines on the Los Angeles Times website:

"Two bodies found in possible murder-suicide in Sherman Oaks, LAPD says"
"Man slain by gunfire in Westlake"
"Anaheim man charged in stabbing death of 12-year-old-boy"
"Los Angeles regional weather forecast"
"Father, son convicted of murder in shooting case involving human traffickers"
"Shaquille O’Neal investigated as part of sex-tape kidnapping case in 2009"
"O.C. man charged with murder in Lake Forest stabbing"
"O.C. gang member convicted of murder during Santa Ana robbery attempt"

Thankfully, the weather looks pretty nice.

I Lost A Teacher Today...

Maybe it was the day before. I'm not certain.

As far back as I can remember, school came easily to me. My early schooling is likely the only aspect of my life that I can make such a claim about myself. Nothing special on my part, but the structure of the institution just seemed to fit me.  Not to say that I always enjoyed it, because I didn't. Insofar as we all 'enjoy' activities that provide us with positive reinforcement, I guess it was an enjoyable exercise. But I was bored by it, and generally failed to envision much of a point to it all. Mostly, I went through the motions.  Something changed in the autumn of 1985. But, this post isn't about me.

Elementary school and junior high went smoothly in the Indianapolis Public Schools system. Approaching high school, I think my 14 year old self subconsciously sought a challenge. My mind was set on a switching to a private, college preparatory school. So, I earned a scholarship and made the jump. I found no challenge. I hated it. This post isn't about me.

My 'success' continued, but my restlessness increased. After an emotional struggle, I convinced my parents to allow me to return to IPS and enroll at Broad Ripple High School in the Humanities magnet.  For my sophomore year, not much changed except I was once again around my longtime friends. Geometry became the first mathematical discipline with which I wrestled a bit, I guess. The core Humanities class for sophomores, Critical Thinking, was a course in logic. For young minds, it was exceptional training. But it came naturally to me for some reason. To this point, my education was little more than rote memorization and regurgitation.  This post isn't about me.

As a junior Humanities student, I walked headlong into '19th And 20th Century America.'  Because I was a bullheaded jackass, I missed the core freshman Humanities course 'Man And Society' taught by Melinda Fairburn and Ralph Bedwell. I regret that to this day. '19th and 20th,' as it was colloquially known, was team-taught by Doris Young and Ralph Bedwell. It was a revelation.

I know it seems hard to believe at this point, but this post really isn't about me.  Mrs. Young and Mr. Bedwell had developed an interdisciplinary approach to teaching 16 & 17 year old kids about the history, literature, and art that formed the United States.  Truly, looking back, it was an amazing experience.

Off the top of my head: The Federalist Papers. 1776. Eugene O'Neill. Sinclair Lewis. All Quiet On The Western Front. Al Smith v. Herbert Hoover. H.L. Mencken. The Grapes Of Wrath. Elie Wiesel.

For the first time I could recall, a teacher asked me, "What do you think?" More amazingly, the follow-up came, "Why do you think that?" Finally, I understood the purpose of school. My eyes were opened. Intellectually, I felt challenged. 

Of course, I did not always rise to that challenge. After all, I was a red-blooded American teenager in the 80's. But it is safe to say that Mrs. Young and Mr. Bedwell are wholly responsible for awakening my intellectual curiosity.  I highly doubt I am alone in this. And the impact of such an influence is, in my view, immeasurable.

When I was insightful, or correct, Ralph and Doris encouraged me to dig deeper. What else lay beyond the simple truth? When I was wrong they gently helped me see the error of my ways through analysis. When I was lazy, or derelict, I was called on it. In this, Ralph was without peer. To me, that is the essence of teaching. And I lost a teacher today... We all lost a teacher today.

This post was never about me. In my mind, to convey the magnitude of effect these educators had upon their pupils, I needed to relate my own experiences. I doubt Doris Young, who suffered a terrible loss of her own recently, will ever read this. I know, now, that Ralph Bedwell will never read this. This post was always about them. And any student whose minds they helped shape.  Deepest empathies, Doris Young. Rest peacefully, Ralph Bedwell.

timothy_dee

Los Angeles Is Burning

Nearly 18 million humans call the Greater Los Angeles metropolis home. That's a lot of folks. Without tons of fun things to do, people might get bored.

Bad Religion - Los Angeles is Burning (Station Fire)

Luckily, if you can navigate the traffic, there's always something happening in LA. It will come as little surprise to those reading this that I've become somewhat of a homebody in my aging years.  But, even I manage to get out and about a bit in Southern California.  Since I arrived in early September, there was still time to catch a Dodger game at historic Dodger Stadium. Kirk Gibson's one-legged, pinch-hit, walk-off home run against Dennis Eckersley and the A's in the 1988 World Series remains one of the most amazing things I've ever seen in my 35+ years of baseball fandom.  I was happy to check out the scene of that miracle, even for a meaningless game against the Colorado Rockies as both teams played out the string in Chavez Ravine.

Dodger Stadium, Behind First Base 9/17/10

Me, Eric, Erik, & Barry at Dodger Stadium

A much newer, yet no less majestic, sporting venue lies due south of Los Angeles. The Home Depot Center in Carson, California opened in 2003 and serves as home to MLS clubs Chivas USA and Los Angeles Galaxy, as well as the training center for US Soccer.  It is truly an amazing place to watch a match. As such, I've already made the trek 4 times: Galaxy regular season matches v. Colorado and New York, a Galaxy playoff match v. Dallas, and the International Friendly between USA and Chile.

Erik & Eric, Galaxy v. Colorado 10/17/10

USA youngsters Bunbury & Agudelo do the Dougie (far corner) to celebrate the equalizer against Chile 1/22/11

Of course, it's not all sports in La-La Land. In October, Hoosier friends Wes and Melanie Priest jetted out for a visit. We were able to meet up with Abraham Benrubi and check out the Dia De Los Muertos festival, commemorating the Mexican Day Of The Dead, at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in North Hollywood.

My man Abraham & Wesley at Dia De Los Muertos



The grave of Johnny Ramone. You can buy Ramones t-shirts here. In a cemetery. Seriously...

The fitness freaks also managed to drag my dead ass out for some outdoorsy hikes.  While probably a bit beyond my comfort zone, the trek around Charmlee Wilderness Park in Malibu provided some breathtaking vistas over the Pacific Ocean. The gorgeous El Matador Beach, on the other hand, brought us back to sea level where the rocks meet the sand and the sea water.

Melanie, Wes, & Erik high up in Charmlee


And the march to the sea at Matador Beach

Soon enough, Winter would arrive... even here.  Having spent an Autumn and early Winter in Albuquerque and Santa Fe, I had an idea what to expect. Yet, surprises lurk around every bend where the mountains meet the ocean. And good friend E. Cruise Miller helped remind me of all I was missing back in Naptown.

5102 Park at Christmas



Meanwhile, in the City Of Angels...

Life is the same, just in a different place. We have a recurring role, and our character doesn't change, but the setting does. In Indy, when I walked out of my local Target I saw Hedlund's Hardware. Now, I'm in Burbank.

From Burbank Target to the Verdugo Mountains

Hopefully, with another post covering the Burbank days, I can catch us all up to the present day.

timothy dee

Made Up My Mind, Make A New Start.

Since I've been terribly remiss in updating the tale, let's start from the beginning.  "A man who couldn't make things go right could at least go. He could quit trying to get out of the way of life. Chuck routine. Live the real jeopardy of circumstance. It was a question of dignity." Inspired by William Least Heat-Moon's observation in the book Blue Highways, I was off.
 

A lot has happened since, not all of which is fit to be printed today. Nevertheless, if only for my own reflection, I will post some thoughts and images from the journey here at Petulant Monkey.



Summer in Indiana was coming to a close. It was time for me to go. Early September, and a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. IND-LAX. Destination: Malibu.

With a sizable assist from my brother Eric, my longtime friend Erik Margerum offered to let me stay in the room above his garage in the swanky beachside town of Malibu, CA. His hospitality, along with that of Annestasia, her two lovely kids, and their three hounds was above and beyond the call of duty. I will always feel a debt of gratitude for those three months.

   Chez Margerum

I'm understating things greatly when I say that Malibu is a beautiful area. Situated on a narrow strip of land between the Santa Monica Mountains and the Pacific Ocean, Mother Nature has blessed Malibu with incredible beaches and impressive hilltop vistas.

Erik on Carbon Beach

Given the natural charm of Malibu, and its proximity to the glitz and cash of Hollywood, it should come as no surprise that many of its residents do not want for money. Carbon Beach is also known as Millionaire's Beach, and pics of some of those houses probably need a post of their own. The hillside mansions, however, are just as impressive.

View from Erik's backyard

So, for the months of September, October, and November, Malibu was the lush setting for my great adventure. In the next update to Petulant Monkey, I'll add some excursions into the Southern California surroundings and the visit of old friends Wes and Melanie Priest.

timothy dee