I am just about to begin my third day of the new school year. So far, excellent. I have been assigned a lively bunch, full of life and smiles. Why, we have already created a business plan for a new restaurant, one that is sure to make us all dozens of dollars.
We'll read some books, write some stories, solve some math problems, and sing some songs, among other things.
Look for the article about us in the newspaper.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Saturday, May 21, 2016
Garcia/Hunter/Curley, songwriters
Many years ago, while I was a student at Sonoma State College, I had the "responsibility" of hosting Grateful Dead Lyricist Robert Hunter while he played a solo concert in the Student Union. At the time, he was half of my favorite songwriting team, (Jerry) Garcia / Hunter. They crafted the excellent songs that powered the Dead, and that still provide The Dead and Company with material that we all love and adore, and hum and sing, some 50 years later (WTF!?!).
The concert promoter was Bill Bourland, a fellow student and a good friend of mine. He billed it as a "Pillow Concert", and folks were encouraged to bring soft comfy things to lay on the carpeted floor while my good friend, Bob, played his acoustic guitar. In his raspy, pirate like voice, he played the hits, including "Ripple", "Truckin'", "Sugar Magnolia", and his own "Tiger Rose". It was thrilling to hear rough solo versions of tunes we had all heard performed dozens of times by the band.
It was a little odd to be "responsible" for Robert Hunter. He was not unfriendly, but we were both a little uneasy. After all, I was to hang with Hunter, and he was stuck with me. But I had planned ahead, and proposed that we commit a small criminal offense before he took the stage. Luckily, he thought that was a grand idea!
While committing this crime, we engaged in small talk. He spoke of living out on the River, and I told him that I played the guitar. He was unimpressed. Thankfully, it was soon show time. Hunter opened his case, took out his guitar (a Martin D-35 if I remember correctly) and left my realm of "responsibility".
That's about it, not much of a story. So now I can start making shit up. I told him that in about 40 years there would be this person running for President who had absolutely no business doing so. I also told him that I was going to be in a band called The Cork Pullers, based over the hill in Sonoma. Hunter became excited, and shared some lyrics that he had written on a legal pad and stashed in a Peachee. They were to a song called "Wave that Flag", and were just a bunch of common phrases tied together musically. He suggested that I add a verse to his song, one about this jackass who was to run for President. That sounded like a great idea, so I did.
( this part is true ) "Wave that Flag" eventually became "U.S. Blues", and last night while The Cork Pullers played our second set at the fabled Murphy's Irish Pub in Sonoma, that added verse was revealed to the world. The verses to "US Blues" are rollicking, and the chorus anthem-like. Fun stuff. The crowd usually really enjoys the song, and last night was even better than usual. If you don't know the song, give it a listen…and imagine my verse tacked on to the end after the final chorus, followed by another chorus.
Burkha black, scarlet Fez
Time of year, to elect a Prez
Cast your vote, don't let it pass
Donald Trump, you can kiss my ass!
The concert promoter was Bill Bourland, a fellow student and a good friend of mine. He billed it as a "Pillow Concert", and folks were encouraged to bring soft comfy things to lay on the carpeted floor while my good friend, Bob, played his acoustic guitar. In his raspy, pirate like voice, he played the hits, including "Ripple", "Truckin'", "Sugar Magnolia", and his own "Tiger Rose". It was thrilling to hear rough solo versions of tunes we had all heard performed dozens of times by the band.
It was a little odd to be "responsible" for Robert Hunter. He was not unfriendly, but we were both a little uneasy. After all, I was to hang with Hunter, and he was stuck with me. But I had planned ahead, and proposed that we commit a small criminal offense before he took the stage. Luckily, he thought that was a grand idea!
While committing this crime, we engaged in small talk. He spoke of living out on the River, and I told him that I played the guitar. He was unimpressed. Thankfully, it was soon show time. Hunter opened his case, took out his guitar (a Martin D-35 if I remember correctly) and left my realm of "responsibility".
That's about it, not much of a story. So now I can start making shit up. I told him that in about 40 years there would be this person running for President who had absolutely no business doing so. I also told him that I was going to be in a band called The Cork Pullers, based over the hill in Sonoma. Hunter became excited, and shared some lyrics that he had written on a legal pad and stashed in a Peachee. They were to a song called "Wave that Flag", and were just a bunch of common phrases tied together musically. He suggested that I add a verse to his song, one about this jackass who was to run for President. That sounded like a great idea, so I did.
( this part is true ) "Wave that Flag" eventually became "U.S. Blues", and last night while The Cork Pullers played our second set at the fabled Murphy's Irish Pub in Sonoma, that added verse was revealed to the world. The verses to "US Blues" are rollicking, and the chorus anthem-like. Fun stuff. The crowd usually really enjoys the song, and last night was even better than usual. If you don't know the song, give it a listen…and imagine my verse tacked on to the end after the final chorus, followed by another chorus.
Burkha black, scarlet Fez
Time of year, to elect a Prez
Cast your vote, don't let it pass
Donald Trump, you can kiss my ass!
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
The Passing of Another Great Musician
Guy Clark died today, at his home in Texas, at the age of 74. Simply enough stated, and definitely sad enough. Another one gone. This has been a tough year for music fans. No need to list all who have passed on, but his one is hard for me. I am going to miss Guy Clark.
That didn't really sink in until my daughter, Molly, wrote to me, "Sorry you lost one of your guys." It was then that I realized that not many days go by that I don't sing a line of his, or think of something I heard him say - to me- on the few, precious times that I saw him perform live. He was one of my guys.
"Texas singer / songwriter". No, he was not just a singer songwriter. The words to his songs, they weren't "lyrics", too high falootin' a term for Guy, were genuine and honest and very straight forward. Silly at times, his "Homegrown Tomatoes" and "Picasso's Mandolin" are downright infectious in their simplicity. "Desperadoes Waiting for a Train" is so sad it drips. "LA Freeway" is disdainful and gorgeous, and "I Don't Love You Much Do I" is one of the best love songs I have ever heard.
I might be wrong about this, but the treatment he gave his songs never included an electric guitar, long a staple of Texas music. Instead, he and his musical partner Verlon Thompson laid down undeniable acoustic guitar grooves, and the songs did not suffer the absence of the Tele. Vocal harmonies that were the envy of the trade were tastefully scattered around the verses.
A few years ago at Hardly Strictly, he told me…me, a story about an crotchety old man who made his own bullets. I am sure that Guy Clark did not make his own bullets, but he was his own man. He was a "hero of our Country", and I loved him. Always will.
That didn't really sink in until my daughter, Molly, wrote to me, "Sorry you lost one of your guys." It was then that I realized that not many days go by that I don't sing a line of his, or think of something I heard him say - to me- on the few, precious times that I saw him perform live. He was one of my guys.
"Texas singer / songwriter". No, he was not just a singer songwriter. The words to his songs, they weren't "lyrics", too high falootin' a term for Guy, were genuine and honest and very straight forward. Silly at times, his "Homegrown Tomatoes" and "Picasso's Mandolin" are downright infectious in their simplicity. "Desperadoes Waiting for a Train" is so sad it drips. "LA Freeway" is disdainful and gorgeous, and "I Don't Love You Much Do I" is one of the best love songs I have ever heard.
I might be wrong about this, but the treatment he gave his songs never included an electric guitar, long a staple of Texas music. Instead, he and his musical partner Verlon Thompson laid down undeniable acoustic guitar grooves, and the songs did not suffer the absence of the Tele. Vocal harmonies that were the envy of the trade were tastefully scattered around the verses.
A few years ago at Hardly Strictly, he told me…me, a story about an crotchety old man who made his own bullets. I am sure that Guy Clark did not make his own bullets, but he was his own man. He was a "hero of our Country", and I loved him. Always will.
Monday, March 28, 2016
Town Idiot de Jour
A few weeks ago, I wrote a little bit of prose that ended up being published in the San Francisco Chronicle's Letter to the Editor. It was about the Town Idiot de Jour, Donald Trump. The problem, the big problem, is that it seems that he is more than "de jour". The news media has made him a darling, simply because he sells. Like they say in TV news, "If it bleeds, it leads." We can't believe the crap he spouts, but we watch, and they sell their Tylenol and Viagra, their cleaning products and cars. Their rates stay high, as do their profits.
Yes, it is easy to be cynical, but, Jeez, what is this all about? Are we as a nation really no better than this?
Also, please vote. Think, then vote.
Yes, it is easy to be cynical, but, Jeez, what is this all about? Are we as a nation really no better than this?
Also, please vote. Think, then vote.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Cat Video
As a musician, it can be very frustrating to play to a room full of people who seem to not be listening. Grateful Dead guitarist Bob Weir famously said a couple of years ago to a crowd who was more interested in talking than listening, "Shut the Fuck Up". I would probably not ever go that far, but I have been tempted to stop the music and wait it out, not unlike a tactic I use occasionally in my classroom. The point is that musicians, like all artists, chefs included, want to be appreciated. I am pretty sure that you don't go out to some fancy restaurant, order a $35 entree, and dump catsup all over it. You wait for it to be served with great anticipation. And when tasting it, you pay attention to the flavors, subtle and otherwise. Musicians would alike the same consideration. Please give us a listen. You may really like it.
And thanks to Derek at Murphy's Irish Pub in Sonoma for placing this notice, written by Lauren Brenner, on his table tops. It did seem to make a difference.
Hey, maybe we should change our name to "Cat Video"! People love watching those!
Saturday, January 30, 2016
"He not busy being born is busy dying", Bob Dylan
I just finished reading a short little book called "Show Your Work", by Austin Kleon. My girlfriend, Lauren, bought it, and I stole it from her. I will give it back to her someday, maybe tomorrow.
In the book, Kleon writes that it is important to share your ideas. Who'da thunk it? It is full of great little snippets about modern American life, and how to be heard while living it. There is a section in the book called "Behind the Scenes", a collection of outtakes made while writing it. One that hit a chord with me is "Our obituaries are written before we're dead."
Which, along with the title of this post, explains why I have a girlfriend, and a great one at that, who's name is Lauren.
And I want my obituary to be really long, full of lots of interesting places, song titles, and people's names.
In the book, Kleon writes that it is important to share your ideas. Who'da thunk it? It is full of great little snippets about modern American life, and how to be heard while living it. There is a section in the book called "Behind the Scenes", a collection of outtakes made while writing it. One that hit a chord with me is "Our obituaries are written before we're dead."
Which, along with the title of this post, explains why I have a girlfriend, and a great one at that, who's name is Lauren.
And I want my obituary to be really long, full of lots of interesting places, song titles, and people's names.
Origins
I don't like scatological humor, but in this case, it is appropriate to include here. Because the original title of this blog had its misguided roots in autocorrect. "Law of Attraction" became "Lava Traction'". Otto, here's to you!
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Field Trip Wrap-up
I have snarkily outlined that pitfalls that a field trip can involve. None of that happened today. Yes, there were 60 kids on the bus, but they were fabulous. Yes, we sat on concrete and ate our lunches, but, hey, we were in San Francisco!
And you should have heard the gasps from the kids when we exited the Waldo Tunnel, and caught the first glimpse of that beautiful city.
And you should have heard the gasps from the kids when we exited the Waldo Tunnel, and caught the first glimpse of that beautiful city.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Field Trip
Have you ever been in charge of 20 kids traveling to, and going through, the Exploratorium? Or been on a school bus with 60 kids? Or tried to get this same 60 kids to sit down and eat lunch on the concrete, because there aren't enough seats? Or…you get the idea.
Me. Us. Tomorrow.
Me. Us. Tomorrow.
Monday, January 25, 2016
Is That Funny?
I read in Leah Garchik's column in today's SF Chronicle about a troubling live theater experience, where the audience was laughing during a dramatic production. I have noticed something in my classroom over the last couple of years that is, in my mind, related.
MIllions of Americans view YouTube videos on a daily basis. "America's Funniest Home Videos" is an extremely popular TV show. In these videos, people are falling and hurting themselves on skateboards and the like, and the videos are tremendously popular, and apparently, funny. When someone crashes into a wall at high speed, people no longer wince and look away, they laugh. "Oh, the sport of it!" A vicious hit on the football field, that should elicit sympathy, is shown many times over, and draws an excited "Whoa!"
In my classroom, students often laugh at things that are simply not funny.
Call it YouTube humor. It's a computer era Pavlovian response to witnessing someone else's pain.
Laughing is the new wincing.
MIllions of Americans view YouTube videos on a daily basis. "America's Funniest Home Videos" is an extremely popular TV show. In these videos, people are falling and hurting themselves on skateboards and the like, and the videos are tremendously popular, and apparently, funny. When someone crashes into a wall at high speed, people no longer wince and look away, they laugh. "Oh, the sport of it!" A vicious hit on the football field, that should elicit sympathy, is shown many times over, and draws an excited "Whoa!"
In my classroom, students often laugh at things that are simply not funny.
Call it YouTube humor. It's a computer era Pavlovian response to witnessing someone else's pain.
Laughing is the new wincing.
Saturday, January 23, 2016
Stairs
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Wild Applause
Not too many of us ever receive applause of any kind. Sure maybe when we graduate, or retire…but real applause, from strangers? David Bowie knew it. Glen Frey knew it. Heck, I sorta know it, because sometimes people applaud when I finish singing a song ( and not because I am finished singing the song…). But it's rare for normal people in normal walks of life to hear applause directed towards them.
Today, however, I heard wild applause. A room full of people clapped in earnest for something I did. Ok, they were my students, and it was a book that I finished reading, but they applauded! Wildly. Very cool.
Therefore, I recommend "Because of Winn-Dixie", by Kate DiCamillo. If you have a young person (8-11 or so…) in your life, read it to them. It is sweet, poignant, fun, touching, and apparently, really good.
Who knows? You might need to take a curtain call.
Today, however, I heard wild applause. A room full of people clapped in earnest for something I did. Ok, they were my students, and it was a book that I finished reading, but they applauded! Wildly. Very cool.
Therefore, I recommend "Because of Winn-Dixie", by Kate DiCamillo. If you have a young person (8-11 or so…) in your life, read it to them. It is sweet, poignant, fun, touching, and apparently, really good.
Who knows? You might need to take a curtain call.
Friday, January 15, 2016
Who's Lauren?
Thursday, January 14, 2016
First Effort
Hi…here we have an attempt at a whole new way for me to spend time, rather than ironing shirts and clipping coupons.
I was inspired to begin this process, this blog thing, after reading in a book that said it's a good idea. Imagine that. Write random thoughts for strangers to read. Not all will be strangers; but who thought of this? What a world.
The title I have chosen was also an inspiration for me. Good old Auto Correct came up with it while Lauren was typing, you guessed it, law of attraction. Inadvertent genius. I immediately recognized it as a great band name, and now I see that "Otto Correct and The Mistakes" might be a good one, too.
I was inspired to begin this process, this blog thing, after reading in a book that said it's a good idea. Imagine that. Write random thoughts for strangers to read. Not all will be strangers; but who thought of this? What a world.
The title I have chosen was also an inspiration for me. Good old Auto Correct came up with it while Lauren was typing, you guessed it, law of attraction. Inadvertent genius. I immediately recognized it as a great band name, and now I see that "Otto Correct and The Mistakes" might be a good one, too.
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