Rep. Wasserman Schultz wrote to me to tell me of the exciting developments that will take place at the Democratic Convention this year in Charlotte, NC. Think of it: three days, not the traditional four. . .a final night at the Carolina Panthers football stadium, which can hold 70,000 people. . .a kick-off rally at the Charlotte Motor Speedway on Labor Day. Rep. Wasserman Schultz asked me to sign up to receive more exciting news like this, and to “share my views” about how to make the Convention even more exciting.

Here’s what I wrote to her:

Dear Representative Wasserman Schultz, thanks for inviting me to comment on plans for the Democratic convention. These are my ideas.
Skip it. Since Barack Obama will be nominated for a second run at the Presidency, and since there are no contenders challenging him, we don’t need three days to declare him the candidate.
Spend the money in better ways. Let the party put the money to work in hard-fought, closely-contested Congressional races.
On the night we would ordinarily watch Obama make a speech to a room full of people in paper hats, put him on TV instead and have him tell us why his re-election campaign will cost close to $1 billion.
In the same speech, he can explain how it happened that the Convention (cancelled)  was going to be held in NC, a right-to-work state. Was it about the politics of winning the state and its 15 electoral votes? Or was it about how he and the family enjoyed vacations there?

This will be Barack Obama’s second and final chance to break from “politics as usual.” He could start now, with an aggressive approach to the obstructionist Congress, pushing on them to pass the legislation he wants. He could continue by holding weekly press conferences to sharpen public focus on the critical differences between him and his Republican opponents (some will call this “campaigning,” and so what). Then he could dump the Convention and make the TV speech as outlined above. He could find ways and means to raise (and spend) much less than a billion dollars. He could call on all candidates to do what they can to reduce overall campaign spending (projected to be $8 billion in 2012).

Rep. Wasserman Schultz, as a progressive, see if you can build some excitement around those ideas.

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With our gun rights under constant attack from our own government and the anti-gun United Nations, as well as the threat of rising crime due to our country’s economic woes, Congressman Paul believes it has never been more important that our President be 100% committed to defending our God-given right to keep and bear arms.

As a life-long hunter and a concealed handgun license holder, Rick Perry is an ardent defender of the Second Amendment. As governor, he signed a Castle Doctrine bill to ensure citizens have the right to defend themselves in their homes. He signed agreements allowing licensed residents of 40 other states to carry concealed weapons in Texas, and vice versa. He also stopped local governments from prohibiting legally concealed weapons on public property, cut CHL renewal fees and protected shooting ranges from junk lawsuits.

“Let me speak very directly and candidly about where I stand. I support the Second Amendment as one of the most basic and fundamental rights of every American. It’s essential to our functioning as a free society, as are all the liberties enumerated in the Bill of Rights…” (Mitt Romney)

“The right to bear arms is not about hunting. It’s not about target practice … The right to bear arms is a political right designed to safeguard freedom so that no government can take away from you the rights that God has given you, and it was written by people who had spent their lifetime fighting the greatest empire in the world and they knew that if they had not had the right to bear arms, they would have been enslaved. And they did not want us to be enslaved. And that is why they guaranteed us the right to protect ourselves. It is a political right of the deepest importance to the survival of freedom in America.”(former Congressman Newt Gingrich)

Rick Santorum is a firm advocate of a citizen’s right to bear arms. He is also a staunch defender of gun manufacturers, and voted in favor of the 2005 Protection of Lawful Commerce in Arms Act (Bill S 397), which among others, prevents civil suits from being brought against gun manufacturers for criminal acts perpetrated using their weapons.

“Hugh, I clearly misunderstood your question regarding the assault weapons ban,” Jon Huntsman wrote in an email to Hewitt. “I would absolutely veto the ban. I have always stood firmly for 2nd Amendment rights, and my record in Utah reflects it. With a name like ‘Huntsman’ it really goes without saying.”

From August 1 through August 14, Assisi will be the site of an enriched and exciting Hero’s Journey Art Workshop, co-taught by me, and Oralee Wachter, who invented and who directs the workshops across the U.S.. (oraleewachterherosjourney.com) We’re going to Assisi as part of Art Workshop International, a month-long gathering of writers, painters and other creative people who combine a splendid summer vacation with a challenging and rewarding arts experience. Frank McCourt, who taught at AWI, says  “Art Workshop International is a sublime merge of Vacation (sunflower fields, Umbrian plains, like-minded travelers, ambling to and fro, dinners on the terrace) and Creativity (painting, reading, poetry, good teachers), a fine way to focus and let go.”

Here’s the link to Art Workshop International to learn more about our Hero’s Journey session and the other offerings and amenities: www.artworkshopintl.com

AWI is the brainchild and passion of Bea Kreloff and Edith Isaac-Rose, dear friends of ours and accomplished artists who have directed more than three decades of Assisi creative work and play. This is the 32nd year of Art Workshop International, and Oralee and I are honored to be counted among a distinguished faculty that includes filmmakers, poets, language instructors and many others in visual arts and writing.

I invite all blog readers to take a look, pass the word to interested parties, and if you can, join us in Italy this summer for what promises to be a remarkable journey of its own, high in the Umbrian hills, drawing and painting and writing our own essential stories.

Yet it’s clear that singer-songwriters are producing new, vibrant, cogent material. They are trying to contribute to the dialogue about who we are and how we want to live, but they mostly wind up singing to the choir (e.g. anti-fracking songs will be heard live by people who already oppose fracking). Country music continues to yield songs about who we are, but those songs, too, are heard by audiences narrowly defined by country music broadcasters. Used To Be A City

So (to quote Malone in “The Untouchables”) what are we prepared to do? I want to start the year off with a proposition: what if a bunch of us were to gather our energies and our resources and create a broadcast vehicle for “American Voices” – music about something, music with more on its mind than teardrops or dance moves. This vehicle might be a radio station somewhere (they’re for sale, with prices ranging from $20,000 to a million and more). It might be a Sirrius channel or two. It might be a nationally-syndicated show using the uplink-and-downlink distribution system of PRSS. It might be a combination of these and other forms, including, of course, online feeds and streams and the like. Where Women Rule

Remember Air America? A deliberate and professional attempt to create a progressive radio counterweight to the broadcasting muscle of the conservatives. It had Al Franken, and Rachel Maddow, but what it didn’t have was music – fresh, invigorating, involving, substantial music. It had a lot of smart people talking a lot of smart talk and it lasted about six years. Maybe a new venture, “American Voices,” can turn the formula upside down, and feature lots of good music with only the occasional talker.  Maybe, instead of waiting for mainstream media to make room for substantive and original music, instead of elbowing each other out of the way for the slivers of the sliver of the tiny piece of pie that is given to this music on a handful of FM stations, maybe we look for ways to bake more pie. The Feral Crow

Cesaria Evora, from Cape Verde. She died only about a week ago, after illness, after surgery, after surviving the waterfront bars and the orphanage. Always convinced of her own musical ability, she was a self-determined barefoot grandmother who chain-smoked, enjoyed her rum onstage, and took her “mornas” (the blues of Cape Verde) around the world. Here is a cut from “Cafe Atlantico,” where the influences of the world  (Brazil, Cuba) were allowed into port. Paraiso Di Atlantico

Bill Morrissey, from Hartford and then New Hampshire. One of the singer-songwriters whose work reminds me of a short-story writer living and working in the mill towns and trailer parks of hard-luck America. He dropped out, he worked the boats in Alaska, he drank and medicated and worried his friends. I never saw him perform live, but they say he had a knack for walking the emotional tightrope, breaking hearts with one song then drawing belly laughs with the next. He died in a motel room in Dalton, Georgia. Winter Laundry

Phoebe Snow, born Phoebe Laub in New York City. Right from the start, as a Teaneck NJ teenager hauling her guitar to clubs in the Village, they all knew she was a singular talent. Record deals, fights with managers, new labels, gigs on the biggest stages and session work on commercials, Phoebe Snow knew the top and the bottom of the business. She effectively walked away from it to raise her daughter Valerie Rose until she died at 31. At a major concert appearance, one of the roadies worried over the sound or some other technical problem and complained to Snow “we need a heavy out here to resolve this.” “I’m the heavy,” she said. Harpos Blues

Theres are not the gifts you will find under the tree, or piled up alongside the latkes. No unwrapping required. These artists, and their brother and sister musicians who died this year, put it all out there for us to savor, again and again. All that is required of us is a moment to stop and listen.

Pursued by a Bear: Or How I Endured Years of Medical Treatment and Lived to Write About It
Paul Singer
iUniverse (available at Amazon)
Modern medicine: the phrase brings to mind skilled diagnosticians, cutting-edge technologies, wise practitioners. Paul Singer encountered some of these during his long struggle with multiple illnesses and life-threatening conditions. He also encountered botched procedures, missed communications, unthinking and unfeeling health care professionals, and a bed that collapsed and squeezed him into a painful “V.” Pursued by a Bear is an instructive chronicle of one man’s experiences with some of the best and a lot of the worst that medicine can deliver. It’s also a funhouse Pythonesque ribald conversation between you, gentle reader, and this smart, sarcastic, thoroughly delightful companion. A medical memoir has seldom been delivered by such a gifted ham on wry, whose book is full of his honesty and generous intelligence.

the Organ Donor Experience: Good Samaritans and the Meaning of Altruism
Katrina A. Bramstedt
Rena Down
Rowman & Littlefield (available at Amazon)
Some charitable behavior is relatively easy to understand: coins or small bills in the Salvation Army kettle at holiday time. . .old coats and sweaters to the firehouse for distribution to poor people. . .a check to the humane society to help care for abandoned animals. But what about giving a part of your body to a stranger? What in the world motivates organ donors? Katrina Bramstedt and Rena Down have come up with some fascinating answers in this thoughtful profile of 22 donors, their experiences and their explanations. Fred, a “normal guy,” says he thought he could save a life. Kevin fought through a skeptical medical bureaucracy and spent thousands of dollars to give a part of his liver to a child. A few donors named a spiritual or moral “command” to act, a few were drawn to the science of organ donation, and one said the world needed examples of selflessness. Too many explanations of altruism simply ascribe it to a predisposition to “be that way,” but these reports and first-person accounts let us understand a little better why some people give vital organs to others, without much hesitation or desire for celebrity. Dr. Bramstedt and Rena Down have done a splendid job of peeling back the assumptions and revealing the psychological and emotional clockworks of altruism.

Last night, we launched a music series, “North By Northwest,” at this cafe, Le Cheile. The Gaelic phrase is neart go cur le cheile, roughly “there is no strength without unity.”
So it was unity of purpose – making and enjoying lovely music – and unity of spirit – this was a first, a launch, an experiment – that brought us together in the listening room on a work night in the Big City. And damn, we had a time.

Honor Finnegan played, sometimes alone with her uke, sometimes with Carl Money on guitar. Chicago to Ireland to Chelsea, when it came time to do a cover, she offered up Sam Cooke. Serious and thoughtful then flashing a smile then holding her place in the background, until it’s time to sing, then unleashing a torrent of funny, poignant, powerful tunes, a voice that lifts you and pulls you forward in your seat. The Changing

Fred Arcoleo played, with Amy Soucy harmonizing and Demetrius Daniel dropping butter from the trombone chair. Just when you think you’ve got him figured out, he gives us a gentle tune he wrote while he sat at his father’s bed during his dad’s last hours.  Fred’s not afraid of anything, and uses his Rally Folk Music to sing truth to power. Ode to New Orleans (Forever Changed)

Janie Barnett played. Wry, melodic, thoughtful, teasing us with stuff we know too well and have to nod along and smile along and then sit very still and let her voice take us away. When she joined the round of “pioneering” songs she dipped back into her catalog to tell a story no one had heard and everyone connected with. Connecting and
compelling is what Janie’s music is all about. On the Water

It started late. It ran longer than announced. There were sound system issues, a few awkward moments with waiters trying to shimmy around Demetrius‘ trombone slide in the doorway.  In short, nothing. No worries. Not on a cold night in the Big City in a place on the corner where the wood and the warmth and the buzz pulls you in and welcome you.

There will be other evenings at North By Northwest. Write to me (tomora0303@earthlink.net) to find out when and who and how. There is unity in being a part of a new music venue, and you are welcome.

It’s December 5, nominally a winter’s day, but we’re still in the late stages of autumn. Today in New York it will hit 60 degrees. Most of the Thanksgiving leftovers are gone by now, except that green bean casserole that sits unloved in the Tupperware pan. Christmas decorations have started to appear in some stores, but the frenzy is a few days away. This is a day on the cusp.

Moving from one reality to another, shifting, the transformation. Columbus landed on the shores of Haiti on December 5, the first European to make that landfall. He brought with him a world of changes, dangers and opportunities both, and we are still sorting out the “new world” he discovered. December 5 was the day prohibition ended in the U.S. – Utah was the last state to ratify the repeal – so we moved out of the violent bootleg days and back into the bright light of official public drinking. Dangers and opportunities, again.

Some important people mark their birthdays on December 5. I will mention a few of my favorites here:

George Armstrong Custer, he of the last stand. The Indians called it the Battle of the Greasy Grass. Custer was a Civil War hero, and was there for Lee’s surrender. But at age 36, he went up against Lakota, Cheyenne and Arapaho forces, and met his fate.

Also from  out that way, John Weldon (JJ) Cale. He wouldn’t do “American Bandstand” because they asked him to lip-sync. He’s a prolific writer of hits for other people. And he is laid-back personified, the kind of bluesy jazzy country stuff that feels good to hear. After Midnight

December 5 is also the birthday of Richard Penniman, the third of 12 children born to a bootlegger and a member of the New Hope Baptist Church. Little Richard “invented” rock ‘n roll, or so he says, then he left that world to become ordained and to preach the gospel, then he decided he could live in both worlds.

This is also the birthday of Walt Disney. His father moved, and moved, and chased dreams. Walt picked up skills and enthusiasms along the way. Cartooning led to Hollywood led to Steamboat Willie led to $36 billion in revenues a year ago.

But perhaps my favorite December 5 birthday belongs to Werner Heisenberg, whose uncertainty principle seems to me to capture this quality of being on the cusp. Simply (and clumsily) stated, if we try to measure two characteristics of something, our instruments and our perspective make it impossible to get them both exactly right. We get a fix on where the thing is, OK, but then to determine its momentum, we shift our perspective, and we are – uncertain.

I dedicate this December 5, my birthday, to this lovely conundrum from particle physics. It is damned hard these days to get a fix on where we are, and then when we try to determine where we’re headed, we are befuddled. Best thing to do is kick back and listen to some JJ Cale. Be my guest. Don’t Go to Strangers

“peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere, except in the theater of military conflict. . .and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom.”

Well, maybe not so much. Thanks to the work of some prominent turkeys, we have not had harmony prevailing everywhere.  Here are my candidates for the 2011 Hall of Turkeys.

Newt Gingrich, for his comment that the OWS protesters ought to “take a bath and get a job.” This is the kind of advice he was paid a million dollars for (by Freddie Mac)? He wins the Preening Snarky Turkey Award, and appears satisfactorily stuffed as he is.

Rush Limbaugh, for his comment that Michele Obama’s “gentlemen, start your engines” appearance at a NASCAR race was “uppity-ism.”  I don’t find fault with the NASCAR fans who booed the First Lady and Dr. Jill Biden – they’ve been sitting in clouds of exhaust and puddles of beer for so long their medullas are oreganata. It’s the smirking
code-word junkie panderer I nominate, for the Leftover Turkey Dried-Up Whitemeat Award.

UC Davis administrators and board members, who have placed the campus police chief on “administrative leave” while they “investigate” the use of pepper spray on passive, seated protesters. Her paid leave (she makes $140,000 a year) comes on the heels of her comment that the cops were “surrounded by students.” The Timid Turkey with Tucked Tailfeathers Award, then, to  Chancellor Katehi and the board, for their bold plan to take a month to look into this affair.

Mayor Mike Bloomberg, for his Black Ops / Delta Force midnight raid on Zuccotti Park.  Let’s say, for the sake of a moment’s consideration, that there were sanitation and
security concerns in the camp. What other actions might the city have taken? Perhaps dispatching health workers. . .perhaps cooperating with OWS organizers to establish
better controls over drugs or violence. . .perhaps waiting for weather and weariness to overwhelm the camp (see Resurrection City). . .perhaps negotiate an alternate camp at one of the city’s 1,700 parks and outdoor properties. The Swaggering Bully Tom Turkey Award, then, to Mighty Mike and his Merry Men.

Michael Steele, former GOP chairman, in response to the new Mitt Romney TV ad. Romney’s people have a clip of Barack Obama QUOTING John McCain, but they’ve cut out the “and I quote” so it sounds like Obama is saying “if we talk about the economy, we lose.” Steele calls this “politics.” It’s generally thought of as lying. The No Pardon for This Turkey Award to Michael Steele.

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Everybody, read David Brooks in this morning’s Times. A thoughtful and worrisome assessment of where we are in American public policy formation. Basically, we’re stymied, stalemated, no way forward, and he projects this to last well into the decade. Enjoy your creamed onions nonetheless, skip that second piece of pie, and tell the people you are thankful for all about it.

In the first week of November, people came for music and art.  First the Moab Folk Camp, then the Moab Folk Festival, filling the streets with license plates from Colorado and California and Washington and New Mexico. This year (the festival’s 9th, the camp’s 4th) had great weather except for Saturday when it turned wet and cold. The campers and festival audiences walked around in short sleeves, the sunny afternoons gave way gradually to cool evenings, and there was pickin’ and grinnin’ all over town.

Snapshots: a bonfire out on the rocks somewhere, Jupiter outshining the stars, a 500-foot cliff face backing up against the clearing. Around the fire, 40 or so singers, players, guitars and banjos and harmonicas and mandolins and harmonies. Cold pizza for supper, rapidly cooling coffee to wash it down, embers flying off into the dark and sometimes into the folds of a coat. A high school auditorium, better equipped and more comfortable than most theaters, with 20-foot seasonal floral displays on stage flanking the performers. Michael Martin Murphey, veteran of every major music scene except perhaps Philly soul, alongside Pat Flynn, New Grass Revivalist and guitar god. Cheryl Wheeler, alternately funny and poignant and always compelling, alone with a guitar and a water bottle – all the performers kept hydrating in the dry mountain air.

Workshops, classes, jam sessions, song circles, recitals, concerts, “meet you at Eddie’s,” a neighborhood drummer in his garage who kept thwacking away all through a class, people puzzling over an impossible songwriting assignment, the spontaneous thrill of harmonies revealed by the remarkable Penny Nichols, a swing guitar master who breaks out cowboy yodels on cue, and over it all, the gentle rhythms of big rigs slowing down to rumble along Moab’s Main Street. Conor Oberst

The camp is a gift to all of us who get to go there, thanks to the imagination and energy of Cosy Sheridan and TR Ritchie. From big themes and concepts to the supply of coffee cups and the right number of chairs, Cosy and TR make it seem effortless, easy, lilting and rewarding. Moab Folk Camp is a community of generous spirits and
the surprising interplay of ideas and voices, all along a river valley beneath the ancient rock cliffs and mesas of Utah. Improbable, hard to categorize, a Brigadoon for our
turbulent times. Let us go there, but walk softly. Cosy Sheridan