Tag! You're It! My Favorite Songs...

An Essential Vertical Man repost: nancytoby tagged me to list my favorite songs, but I should provide a bit of background before I do. I grew up in a very musical household; both of my parents had advanced degrees in music. My father taught and made violins, conducted an orchestra and wrote music. My mother, though an elementary school teacher, also taught piano and organ.

Thus I grew up in a household where music was not simply aural wallpaper, but something that was taken seriously, listened to, discussed and revered. When music was playing you were supposed to keep quiet, pay attention and have an opinion.

All of this is by way of saying that this 'tag' is darn difficult for me. My musical tastes are expansive, eclectic and ever-changing (sometimes to my family's chagrin.) Today's list is different from yesterday's, and tomorrow's will be different still. But, here goes:

• 'Can't You Hear Me Knocking' by the Rolling Stones (from 'Sticky Fingers') From a time when the world's best rhythm section drove the world's best band.
• 'Into the Mystic' by Van Morrison. (from 'Moondance.') Hard to choose just one from Van the Man.
• 'The 4 Last Songs' of Richard Strauss (with Lucia Popp, soprano) Tender, wistful, elegiac end-of-life reflections.
• 'Blue In Green' by Miles Davis (from 'Kind Of Blue.') An extraordinary band and the greatest jazz album ever.
• 'Heroes' by David Bowie. Exploring that point in everybody's life when dreams wash up on the shores of reality.
• 'Tell Her This' by Del Amitre An overlooked and underrated Scottish band; a song that brings tears to my eyes.
• Mahalia Jackson's stunning medley of 'Summertime' (From Porgy & Bess) and 'Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child.' My all-time favorite voice.
• 'Rock and Roll' by the Velvet Underground. "...saved by rock and roll..."
• 'Working On a Building' by the Cowboy Junkies (from 'The Trinity Session.') Spare, evocative insights from a band as adept at channeling Lou Reed as they are Patsy Cline.
• 'I Will Follow' by U2. Early U2, when they were lacerating, visceral and a band with something to say.
• Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 Op. 92 A Major. Precise, emotional, propulsive.
• K.D. Lang's gorgeous version of Leonard Cohen's 'Bird On A Wire.' (from 'Hymns of the 49th Parallel.') An aching lament.
• 'Inner City Blues' by Marvin Gaye. Haunting and broken. Goosebump time.

I'll spare you longer expositions on why these made the list, though it suffices to say they're there for uniquely personal reasons, not because they might be included in some critic's "Top 100 songs of the Century." Each touches me in important ways, sparks powerful emotions or gives me new perspectives. 'nuff said.

This Is What Happens When I Ruminate

I've been thinking.  Always dangerous, I know.  But several of you, dear readers, have pointed out in comments and e-mails how cranky I've been lately.  And even though I kinda like being cranky, I've done enough self-reflection to come to a conclusion:

We - you and me -  don't drink enough wine.

Yep.  So henceforth, before I flay somebody - even somebody from the New York Times - I'm gonna invite 'em to the Great Suburban Outback for a home-cooked dinner and a good bottle of wine or three.  We'll discuss the state of the world and issues big and small.  I'm betting we'll agree more than we'll disagree.  We'll enjoy the fireplace and the sun setting over the lake.

I'll send 'em home with a coupon for anti-Camden the Wonder Dog dry-cleaning.  And then I'll report on what we AGREED upon instead of ranting about a DISAGREEMENT with someone I've never met.  

Of course they may not show up, but if they refuse my invitation I'm gonna do what I do best and light 'em up.  They had their chance.  Of course if they DO show up they're free to complain about the wretched food.  Fair's fair.

Call it a New Years' resolution, the first I've ever made except for the annual promise to never make an annual promise.

The big question is who to invite first.  Any suggestions?  It seems that the only interesting people I can think of are all, well, dead.

The Trickle-Down Becomes A Brown Flood

(Subtitle:  Maybe Stalin was on to something.)

A while back I mused about why Wall Street was being bailed out and Main Street wasn't.  

By now, nearly $1 trillion of your dollars (and some of mine) are being added to bank balance sheets where, so the story goes, combined with large doses of good intentions and some rare intelligence, they'll "un-freeze" credit markets...whatever the hell that means.  At least that's the spin being spun by all the ex-Wall Streeters now infesting Washington.

Funny thing though, when asked what his bank planned to do with its newly-found $25 billion in taxpayer largesse, J.P. Morgan Chase President Jamie Dimon reportedly said "...not a damn thing."  He's gonna let the funds sit there, maybe do an acquisition or two.  So much for un-freezing, but it does re-spin the bailout as an exercise in Wall Street embracing risk if there's upside benefit and then fleeing when it explodes in their faces, leaving middle-income taxpayers to mop up the downside s**t-storm.

And like predictable dominoes, it's now old-line industrial America trooping down corridors of power, empty hats in hand.  Auto companies, their suppliers, labor unions, financing arms and dealers, even whole states like Michigan and (egads!) California, all want their piece of taxpayer absolution for accumulated decades of strategic and leadership sins. 

Unfortunately, along the way to the drunken bailout orgy, too few otherwise smart people had their "John the Baptist Blinding Flash Of Light Holy S**t" moment, as in,

"Holy S**t!  Economic activity is way down! Nobody's buying!  Nobody's spending!  Nobody's investing!  Consumers are frozen! Hey!  Maybe banks and car dealers would do better if CONSUMERS were doing better!  Maybe, just maybe, MAIN STREET drives WALL STREET, not the other way around! Uh-oh we've got it bass-ackwards!  Holy S**t!"

Well, duh.  Consumers aren't spending cuz they fear getting laid off (or already have been) and cash is king when the times ahead look pretty tough.  Until you fix THAT and regain CONSUMERS' confidence and get the MAIN STREET economy growing again, bailing out the economy's financial and industrial sectors AIN'T GONNA WORK!  At best the fix'll be short-term and, given their current cash burn rates, in six months they'll all need to be re-rescued, again at taxpayer expense.

But hey, it's only money!  Fine, rescue banks and auto companies and Michigan's clueless Governor (part of The Messiah's economic transition team...go figure.)  In some ways it's probably inevitable and inescapable.  Long-term though, none of it's gonna work until you fix MAIN STREET!

If they'd done it my way - starting at the bottom and letting the benefits trickle UP for a change - maybe the first trillion dollars woulda worked.  As it stands now it's gonna cost at least twice that, though the rank pragmatist in me says if you put a few of Wall Street's big swingin' d**k bankers in front of a firing squad it'd probably be fixed next week and cost almost nothing.

Geez.  I sound like a freakin' populist.  Who knew?  

Just kidding about the firing squad.  Probably.  Definitely kidding about the big swinging d**ks; Wall Streeters are all far too labial for that.

99,951 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall

Almost there.  My 100,000th visitor should arrive sometime in the next several days and, NO, there's no prize.  Just condolences: condolences to me for being such a self-absorbed narcissist for so long, and even more condolences to YOU for watching this extended train wreck and being fixated by the spectacle, unable to turn away, apparently.

But for four years I've had fun and I've pissed a few of you off (hence the fun...) and I've chronicled races and training and travels and Tri-Daughters and a few Oscar shows and lotsa politicians and celebrities wanking off and other stupid stuff and I'm hoping for four more years of the same perspicacious, captious things.  As always, if you don't like it, go read some other damn blog.

And it's not New Years yet, but I'm already resolving to stop being so hesitant to offer opinions.

And The PC Battle Is Joined

Apparently I blogged sufficiently about things political to appear on certain radar screens. Now comments and e-mails are rolling in, well, trickling in, actually. Whatever, y'all amuse me, even those of you who have a difficult time constructing a coherent argument. You believe you've got me FIGURED OUT. Try again buckaroo. You ain't even close. So I'll make it easy for you...

I read the NY Times while watching Fox News. I surf Daily Kos and Michelle Malkin. I listen to NPR, Rush Limbaugh and sports talk radio in roughly equal proportions. Over the years I've read Ramparts, The Nation, The New Republic, The American Spectator, National Review and Reason. I've belonged to The Sierra Club and local Chambers of Commerce. I've voted for liberals, conservatives, greens and libertarians.

I believe the first amendment is inviolate even if your name IS McCain or Feingold. I think most media is biased toward the liberal point of view, that Fox News is a healthy antidote to that bias and that it's OK cuz we need ALL points of view expressed loudly and often (though I always reserve the right to make fun of the insufferably bonkers and comically absurd NY Times.)

I've read Castro's "History Will Absolve Me," Marx & Engel's "Communist Manifesto" and Milton Friedman's "Capitalism and Freedom" and found something memorable in each. I know that's not supposed to happen. You're supposed to CHOOSE, damn it. Well, Friedman also wrote "Free To Choose." I read that too and I choose to seek first to understand.

I hate guns but am far from defenseless, as you'd find out when you break into my house and get a nail-studded baseball bat upside the head. I hate Americans' gleeful embrace of the most sadistic acts of on-screen violence - usually directed at women and/or children - yet have no problem with on-screen sexuality or your bare breasts on my local beach. I've raised 4 Tri-Daughters and want them to succeed in a world free of bias and harassment, yet I hope they're strong enough to see that sometimes a dirty joke is just a dirty joke not an act of rank patriarchy worthy of legal intervention.

I think Bill Moyers and 'Jimmah' Carter are idiotic gasbags, but so are Ann Coulter and Shawn Hannity. My biggest issue with Bill O'Reilly is not his conservativism, it's the fact that he's a lousy interviewer. My biggest problem with Keith Olberman is not his liberalism, it's the fact that he's, well, tendentious and breathes into the mic like an asthmatic beaver.

I believe that if you support abortion you should love the death penalty; conversely, if you believe serial killers should live out their days, well, then babies deserve a chance too. And of course it stands to reason that if you're anti-abortion you should be in favor of improved pre-natal care, family leave, affordable day care and decent health insurance for kids and families. Otherwise what's the point?

I'm pro-privacy and pro-Patriot Act. I'm willing to pay my fair share of taxes yet I support Social Security privatization. I support labor unions AND the right of employers to operate a non-union shop if they prefer, though having worked in a union shop once upon a time, I believe unionized organizations generally damn well deserve it.

I'm against the war but support pulling a terrorist's fingernails off if the circumstances warrant. I'm pro-sex education and partial to the theory of evolution yet I think abstentionists and creationists are entitled to their opinion without ridicule. I'm for school choice AND vouchers AND for more spending on public education.

I think experience is fine but hardly predictive of presidential greatness; innate leadership skills seem to matter more in most circumstances. Some of our worst presidents and world leaders have been quite experienced, some of the best relatively less so. So don't try and play that card with me, either way.

I love unfettered free enterprise but agree that tax breaks shouldn't be extended to corporations merrily offshoring jobs. I think the health care system in this country is utterly broken but trust neither party to fix it without putting an entire generation of physicians, managed care execs and hospital administrators up against the wall, making them spell C-O-N-S-U-M-E-R over and over and over until they get it right.

I support gay marriage. Us breeders haven't been exactly great stewards of the marital institution and why should we have all the fun anyway? Let's let gays and lesbians deal with the bitterness of divorce for a while, all that alimony, those custody disputes and utterly rapacious lawyers. Enjoy it but be careful what you wish for.

If you believe in free markets AND energy conservation, you MUST be in favor of higher gas prices so just shut up and stop complaining. There's no such thing as "excess" profits either, but that's not the same thing as saying there are no limits.

The Goracle is globally annoying but that doesn't make him wrong or lessen the threat (what's that saying about the blind pig and the acorn?) Still, in the meantime the oil in Alaska is real too, so drill, drill, drill while preparing for the inevitable day when the oil finally runs out.

Figured me out yet? I thought not. I don't have me figured out either. But keep those cards and letters coming.

Oops, sorry, forgot to add that I like BOTH the Cubs and the White Sox. Hah!

Best Heavy Metal Bands...NOT!

Some Yahoo wanker in a stupid hat and ugly-assed beard decided to list his picks for Top 25 Heavy Metal Bands.  So at the risk of being called worse-than-captious, I had to comment thusly...

1. Black Sabbath...blech.  Droning, stupid, plodding, boring, idiotic, ludicrously ill-conceived wanker music.  No redeeming value whatsoever.
2. Led Zeppelin...are you kidding me?  Drunk Brit wankers butchering Chicago blues standards.  "Heh heh heh!  He said 'squeeze my lemon...!'"
3. AC/DC...gag.  Too bad they never FOUND that Highway To Hell...and followed it the HELL outta town.
4. Van Halen...barf.  Smug double entendres and being hot for teacher do NOT a metal song make!  Go away.  Go far away where I can't hear you.
5. Jimi Hendrix Experience:  are you kidding me...again?  As a guitarist, Hendrix was over-rated, over-medicated, over-wrought and over-amplified.  Hell, crank a Sun amp to 11 and ANYBODY'LL sound good.  Maybe even me.
6. Metallica...as if their music wasn't bad enough, their act of suing music-sharing fans consigns them to a prominent spot on history's shitpile.  And, to make history complete, their wanker drummer sucks.
7. Judas Priest...Jesus Christ.
8. Aerosmith...wankers for clueless, pimply-faced, prom-going, teenybopper twerps...and Super Bowl fans who, as a group, have musical tastes slightly lower than a bedbug's.
9. Motorhead...who?   What?  Why?
10. Iron Maiden...ANY metal band with "maiden" in its name is automatically disqualified.
11. Slayer...oh God, kill me now.
12. Deep Purple...well, OK.  Maybe.  Ian Paice (their drummer) rocks.
13. Spinal Tap...ummm, a parody of a parody movie about a metal band parodying itself.  It sorta works, though not for the reasons Mr. Yahoo Wanker thinks.  At least they discovered self-immolation; too bad more bands didn't pick up on it.
14. Rush...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!
15. Robin Trower...under-appreciated, little known...an OK choice.  Plus he was in a band called Procol Harem.  Dunno what it means but I have "Harem" dreams all the time.
16. Dio...ummm...WHO?  What'd he/they sell...about 12 records?
17. KISS...see #14.  Keep It Simple Stupid is only a bad mantra sold by moronic business consultants to equally moronic clients, not an acronym for musical greatness.
18. Guns N' Roses...see #8 only drunker and stupider and more idiotic and less talented...if that's possible.
19. Kyuss...see #16.
20. Thin Lizzy...if I were them I'd ask how to get the freakin' hell off this chicken-shit list.  They deserve better.  Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak, baby.
21. Pantera...learning one more chord would double their guitar vocabulary...and screaming like your balls are caught in a rosebush is NOT singing, no matter what 12 year-olds say.  
22. Uriah Heep...are you EFFIN' KIDDING me?  Absolutely unlistenable and I don't care what Virgil Quaverly Fritzer said in high school 5th period.
23. Alice In Chains...ummm...CHAINS...too bad a GAG and a power outage weren't involved somehow.  Poor Alice.  And too bad the man's box wasn't SOUNDPROOF!
24. Mercyful Fate...a bunch of Danish poseur wankers; need I say more?
25. Meshuggah...a bunch of Swedish uber-poseur wankers channeling a drunk, IKEA-shopping Rabbi; can I say less?

Geez, who unleashed the stupid gene all of a sudden?  Yahoo must've discovered a new way to fend off potential acquirers: publish lotsa stupid stuff and trash their business model...

And, according to researcher Dr. Katherine Rankin, if you didn't get the sarcastic tone of the previous sentences you must have some damage to your parahippocampal gyrus...

Hell's Adolescent Angels

Ha Ha Ha!  This is funny.  I'll bet Preparation H, Tylenol, Viagra and watery beer are being passed around in more-or-less equal quantities.

True story: while spending a summer with relatives in northern California, my cousin and I were dragged to San Francisco for a day of Mom-organized touristy crap.  A day at the zoo and an art museum or two wasn't the least bit amusing; we wanted to go surfing.  Yes, we were two vocally unhappy 13 year-olds until Aunt L took a wrong turn and the day suddenly included a tour of the SF's Haight-Ashbury district, 1967's "Summer of Love" epicenter and - this being the summer of 1967 - a pretty cool place to be.  

Wow!  Hippies!  I still remember Mom being scandalized by the numerous, braless young women.  Of a bra's purpose I had only a dim understanding, but I was pretty sure they usually contained something interesting, something that got even more interesting with fewer layers between me and, well, them.  Thus, to my Mom's everlasting chagrin, I sided with the hippies.  (No, I haven't really matured very much in the intervening 40 years.  I'm a man and infantile.  Deal with it.)

Moms' attention diverted, cousin J and I took off; only after several hours of frantic searching were we located, keeping company with a pack of rather menacing Hells Angels (and this was back when Hells Angels and their Harley-riding brethren were not nice, middle-aged suburban car dealers and soccer moms.) Yet this pack had adopted us as their mascots...or prospective drug couriers...or something.  

Mom and Aunt L were decidedly not amused.  The punishment was worth it though, cuz next time they took the path of least resistance - dosing us with Dramamine for the ride over the mountains to Santa Cruz and a day of surfing Steamer Lane.  Of course I also got another lecture, this time about the evils of skimpy bikinis.  What do you bet I didn't see the problem then, either?

iPod Shuffle: "Diva (Bliss Mix)" by Poi Dog Pondering, from "Electrique Plummagram."  My favorite Chicago-based electronica/jam/alternative/worldbeat/folk/rock/dance band.  That about sums it up.

Dinner Menus and Organs

The profile off to the right promises dinner menus. Except for Thanksgiving, I've been horribly delinquent in not posting what I'm cooking, eating, enjoying.  So, herewith, is a partial list of what Vertical Man has prepared for dinner over the last few days:

Mushroom ragout pappardelle
Cream pasta with lemon and basil
Simple grilled cheese sandwiches with organic tomato cream soup
Caramelized pear and arugula salad with blue cheese
Chicken miso soup
Lemon and parsley chicken.

Here's how it works: I plan the menus, I buy the groceries, I cook, I pour the wine, I EAT, I clean up, i load the dishwasher, I empty the dishwasher, I make notes about how to improve the recipe the next time...I'm just an effin cookin' MACHINE! If you don't like it, well, don't eat it. In fact, you're welcome to cease being a culinary wanker pretty much anytime...or not...whatever. Just don't Bogart the wine.

I always say God does not give you a certain number of days on this earth. No, SHE gives you a certain number of meals... so you better not WASTE any of 'em! And life is TOO SHORT to drink bad wine! And if you are discombobulated by the concept that God is female, well, think about it for a while. You'll come around.

Cheers! And I think dinner is ready.  It'll keep 'til you get here.

iPod shuffle: "On the Sunny Side of the Street" by Jimmy Smith from "Back At the Chicken Shack." Love that organ.

Requiem

This is not an easy post to write. Sandy, our beloved 16 year-old Golden Retriever, will probably be put down today. You've read me referring to her as 'DamnDog' but that's just my habit of using aliases for family members and not a reflection on her place in the family or my heart.

Sandy was a birthday present for Tri-Daughter #3's 6th birthday. She was housebroken from the day we brought her home, and a true exemplar of the breed: well-behaved, smart, loving, friendly all the time yet protective when she needed to be. Hopelessly outmatched by the rabbits in our yard she was still a good sport about making sure the bunnies got their exercise.

The Puppy Sandy started out sleeping in the kitchen but that lasted about a week. One night, when I came downstairs to see why she was making such a racket, she dashed right past me and up the stairs, curled up at the foot of the bed, sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. And that's where she slept for the next 15 years.

So many memories. Vacations in the Upper Peninsula and Sandy right behind us as we jumped off the dock into Crooked Lake's cold waters, doing her best lifeguard imitation, paddling out to each of us in turn, making sure we were OK. She was my high-spirited companion on late-night snow-shoveling excursions, chasing each shovel-full as I threw it and sharing the beers I stashed in snowbanks to keep 'em cold.

I remember the time she chewed up my Dad's supply of oil paints; she pooped rainbows for a week. And the time she wolfed down a dozen chocolate muffins. Chocolate can kill a dog by causing its heart to race, so the vet suggested making her throw up via a dose of Ipecac. Hmmm. Puking is something dogs seem to do rather naturally, but have you ever tried to MAKE a dog throw up? Well, don't unless it's a crisis.

T-D #3 called me this morning from the Great Suburban Outback. Increasingly arthritic and weak, Sandy can no longer stand or move and is in obvious pain when someone tries to assist. The vet says we're out of options. I'm sorry T-D #3 has to shoulder this burden alone. We were hoping Sandy would make it to Thanksgiving and one last family gathering, but she's suffering and, well, it may be time. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Goodbye Sandy, my faithful friend and companion. Thanks for gracing our lives with your gentle spirit.

Update: It's done. Tri-Daughter #3 text-messaged that she gave Sandy a farewell hug for me.

No iPod shufle today. Not in the mood.

Awesome Wil!

Congratulations to Wil for her Ironman Wisconsin 2007 finish! Wil, I miss ya! You truly are an Awesome Training Partner and I'm looking forward to returning to the Great Suburban Outback and getting back in the tri-groove. Maybe we'll race Steelhead 2008 together again, eh?

For more about my adventures with Wil, see this post and this one too. And this one. Oh, I came across this post while trolling through the archives for Wil-related content. It's not Wil-related but it is part of the Essential Vertical Man compilation. So what the hell...

Just Us Narcissists Here

I'm amused by the criticism thrown Tri-Geek Kahuna's way after a recent post about triathletes and their proud commitment to a way of life. From the safety of his/her couch, an anonymous commenter called us smug, pathetic, sneering, obsessive-compulsive narcissists. Holy banana cakes.

That's a lot of big words for someone who refuses to come out of hiding. I've recently threatened to disable anonymous comments on Life Is A Tri, believing that they simply encourage stupidity. After all, how much good is an opinion you won't attach your name to? Not much damn good at all, that's how much.

But more than that, I have to say that I've never been a newbie in a sport where people were friendlier and more willing to share encouragement, ideas, advice or a helping hand. Triathlon training and racing are often pretty solitary endeavors. And I suppose some of us like it that way at least some of the time ( I know I do.) But before the racing starts - and certainly once it ends - I've not found a group of people anywhere more outgoing, engaging and just plain fun to be with. Not exactly textbook behavior for narcissists, is it?

Can we be self-absorbed on occasion? Sure, but so can anybody in pursuit of a BHAG (Big Hairy Audacious Goal as my Prior Place of Employment used to call them,) regardless of whether the goal is athletic or intellectual, personal or professional. That doesn't excuse it but neither does it make us unique.

I vividly remember losing my triathlon virginity in July of 2003 and the sheer number of people who stopped to offer a few encouraging words after learning it was my first time. Must've been that look of stark raving terror on my face or maybe the fact that I had NO freakin' idea how to set up a transition area. I don't remember any smugness and if there was sneering at least they were polite enough to sneer out of earshot. And on that day the only thing pathetic was me.

Yep, I love hanging out with triathletes and, much to this confirmed introvert's amazement, they don't mind hanging out with me either. And, dear reader, if you're wondering about the welcome you would receive should you venture into the tri waters, as I've said before triathletes are really just thousands of friends you haven't met yet. It's a pretty inclusive club. Welcome.

Good Morning

Welcome to my triathlon blog. I am a late, late, late 40-something age-grouper who joined the multisport scene in 2003. My 2004 season consisted of 4 sprint-distance and 3 Olympic distance races, scattered around various locations in Wisconsin, Michigan and Illinois, My 'A' race was the Chicago tri (in which I sucked...more about that later. ) My 2005 season is starting to shape up and will include at least one half-Ironman distance race.

The journey to multi-sport fitness has taught me a lot about myself: how to overcome fears and weaknesses, where to find unexpected reserves of strength and how to get organized and motivated. I hope to share some of these lessons. I've found they're as pertinent to life itself as they are to swimming, biking or running.

People I've met along the way have been unbelievably generous in their advice, support and encouragement. I'll do my best to recognize and thank them. They deserve it and you may benefit too.

I'll post my 2005 racing schedule and training plans as soon as they're final. If you live in Chicago's western suburbs and are looking for a training or racing partner, please let me know. Otherwise, enjoy the journey!