Keys to My Past

I saw another one of those 5 things you don’t know about me memes. Seems I’m disinclined to come up with five, though.

As I may have mentioned, when I was 17, I worked at a summer camp in northern Pennsylvania, mowing lawns, emptying mouse traps and the like. Lots of lawn mowing, so much so that I dreamed about it, and had a bizarre deja vu experience. It was a dreadful place that promised us X amount of money and ended up shortchanging everyone. My girlfriend at the time had worked there in a previous year and practically begged me not to go; a week after I got there, she too went to work there again in the dining room. Ah, young love.

One of my jobs was to fill up the soda machine with Pepsi products. After I left, I realized that I still had the special key to open the machine. I didn’t take it intentionally, but I was disinclined to send it back – and they never asked.

Several months later, I had the key in my pocket, and I was at an ARCO or Mobil gasoline station near my house that was closed for the night; there was a time when gas stations actually closed. The station had a Pepsi machine in front. I tried the key; it worked! I never stole any soda from station, but at least one other time, I used the key to see that it still worked, and it did.

Eventually, I went away to college, and my life. I came across a key chain last week that contained keys to padlocks long gone, an office key from where I worked in 1978 and a bunch of identifiable keys. Oh, yes, and that Pepsi machine key. I finally threw them all away. It was, after all this time, surprisingly easy now, when it hadn’t been the last time I came across that key chain, for some reason.

Yet I still wonder if that key would have still worked.
ROG

Roger Green, Lobbyist

Per Jaquandor:

1. Go to http://www.careercruising.com/.

2. Put in Username: nycareers, Password: landmark.

3. Take their “Career Matchmaker” questions.

4. Post the top ten results.

Here now the results:
1. Lobbyist – not gonna happen.
2. Actor – “To be, or whatever.” Haven’t even been in a local production since 1985, when I was the hard-drinking Simon Stimpson in a production of Our Town.
3. Tour Guide – actually, I could do that.
4. Librarian – hmm, maybe I should consider that…
5. Criminologist -really? I’ve only seen CSI once.
6. Dental Assistant – the idea of flossing others doesn’t really appeal to me.
7. Professor – I’ve taught one session of one business course a few times, but as a full-time gig, I don’t know.
8. Anthropologist – Could be interesting.
9. Comedian – This IS funny. If there is one of these I’m TOTALLY unqualified for, it’s this. I can be funny, but I have no capacity for jokes. On the other hand, if I were on a sitcom, playing it straight, maybe.
10. Communications Specialist – I could do that.

Actually, the next 10 seem to be more on target:
11. Critic
12. Casting Director
13. Activist
14. Public Policy Analyst
15. Political Aide
16. Print Journalist
17. Musician
18. Writer
19. Library Technician
20. Composer

Oh, what the heck. The next 20:

21. Market Research Analyst
22. Translator
23. Dispatcher
24. Special Effects Technician
25. Public Relations Specialist
26. Airline Customer Service Agent
27. Career Counselor
28. Cashier
29. Magician
30. Dancer
31. Customer Service Representative – been there, done that
32. Religious Worker
33. Esthetician
34. Community Worker
35. Funeral Director
36. Nail Technician
37. Foreign Service Officer
38. Director
39. Hairstylist
40. Clergy – the only one on this part of the list I actually ever considered doing, other than the one I’ve already one.

Interestingly, I added my education and skills and the list changed somewhat.
A Very Good Match
B Good Match
C Fair Match
D Questionable Match
F Poor Match

1. Lobbyist B
2. Actor B
3. Tour Guide C
4. Criminologist B
5. Librarian B
6. Anthropologist B
7. Professor B
8. Comedian B
9. Communications Specialist A
10. Activist B
11. Casting Director B
12. Critic A
13. Public Policy Analyst B
14. Political Aide B
15. Writer A
16. Print Journalist B
17. Musician D
18. Translator C
19. Market Research Analyst B
20. Composer D
21. Special Effects Technician C
22. Public Relations Specialist B
23. Career Counselor A
24. Dancer C
25. Customer Service Representative B
26. Religious Worker A
27. Community Worker B
28. Foreign Service Officer B
29. Director B
30. Clergy A
31. Sport Psychology Consultant A
32. Foreign Language Instructor C
33. ESL Teacher B – what my wife does
34. Rehabilitation Counselor A
35. Politician A
36. Psychologist A
37. Corporate / Commercial Lawyer A
38. Historian B
39. Lawyer B – which I did consider, once upon a time
40. Civil Litigator B

So maybe my next career will be communication specialist/writer/critic/clergy. Any jobs in that field?

ROG

Robert , Declan and Amos

Negotiations and love songs: a couple weeks ago, Carol and I received tickets to go to the Albany Symphony on September 28. Bereft of babysitters, it meant one of us could go, but one would have to stay home with Lydia. Since my friend Rocco, who I’ve known since my FantaCo days in the early 1980s, had finally secured tickets for him, his girlfriend Kara and me to see Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello at the Times Union Center on October 6, guess who went to ASO? Hint: she went with one of her girlfriends.

On October 6, Rocco picked me up at home, having already dropped off Kara and another couple. We parked only three blocks away, on Madison Avenue, but the rainstorm of a couple hours earlier returned, so Rocco got a little wet; I was wearing my rain slicker, just in case. I went looking for cheap souvenirs; in the land of $35 and $40 T-shirts, there were none.

Amos Lee and his band started; I must admit that, though he must have at least two albums, I had never heard of him. The music was somewhat folky and jazzy, sometimes sounding like The Band, maybe because of the heavy organ sound. He did five uptempo songs, then two slower sons – a mistake for an opening act, I think, because, in anticipating the headliners, everyone knows he’s not going to end with a ballad. That said, I really liked the band and all the vocals; on at least one song, he sounded eeriely like John Hiatt. I enjoyed the songs, too, except the slower What’s Going On Here, which just couldn’t stand up next to the song it evoked, Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On.

There’s a 10- or-15-minute break, then, without warning or introduction, Elvis Costello, all dressed in black, launches into The Angels Want To Wear My Red Shoes, followed by Blue Chair; I was trying to remember if he had any songs with the word Yellow in them, so that he could cover all the primary colors. During these two songs, streams of people were pouring back to their seats, more or less in our sight line, so this was a bit distracting. Elvis then did a great set on solo guitar. On Oliver’s Army, and later songs, he did a false ending that milked the applause.

Elvis talked a bit about how his father always told him to “look down on a note”; he admits that he STILL has no idea what he’s talking about. After Down Among the Wines and Spirits, which I presume is a (great) new song, he talked about his twin boys, who had turned ten months old that day, and American citizens, and he expressed his hope that, someday, his sons will be President and Vice-President, something, he noted, the current governor of California cannot do. He mentioned, not by name, his wife, who is “a piano player” (Diana Krall), who was backstage with the boys, and that the sons were “carny kids”. I theorized that Elvis was particularly chatty because of his long history in Albany, going back over a quarter century.

He ended with Veronica; Radio Sweetheart, the “first song I ever recorded”, which effectively segued into Van Morrison’s Jackie Wilson Said; Peace, Love and Understanding, surprisingly maintaining its anthemic quality with just guitar and vocal; and the moving The Scarlet Tide.

A somewhat longer break took place, and I went out to try to figure out something. As I noted, we were in Section 102. So there was a sign in the hall that read 102 – 101, then another that read 103-102, 104-103, etc. This meant that the higher number was on the left and the lower number was on the right. This explained why no fewer than 10 parties came into our section telling people that they were sitting in their seats, when in fact, THEY were in the wrong section. One person sat in Kara’s seat while she and Rocco were in the lobby, and I redirected her. In retrospect, the designers should have numbered the sections from left to right, rather than from right to left, but we figured it out; why couldn’t the others?

I also ran into my friend Bill and his wife Brenda. I’ve known Bill since kindergarten in Binghamton, and attended their wedding near Albany 20-some years ago. While we were talking, the auditorium got dark and a voiceover came on, so I rushed back to my seat. The narrative was about an icon of the ’60s and Christianity, and losing his way, only to come back, starting in the late ’90s with three great albums; something like that. Then Dylan (also in black) and his band (in maroon suits) began.

I checked with people later, and the sense of the people in the cheap seats, not necessarily the people on the floor, was the same. While the band was solid, Dylan’s vocals were even more indecipherable than usual. Worse, the sound was muddy. My experience was not enhanced by a woman behind me and to my left yelling, at least six times, “Play something we grew up with,” peculiar, because the second and fourth songs (Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right and Simple Twist of Fate) certainly should have qualified; but he deconstructed them so much that maybe she didn’t recognize them. The people behind me and to my right were bored, as they were talking throughout, and not about the music; one woman was text-messaging. The guy immediately in front of me, probably in his mid-20s, had a a hash pipe he was sharing at least a half dozen times with his girlfriend or wife and another couple. None of these enhanced my experience.

It wasn’t until they, and lots of others that I could see, left, that the show became halfway enjoyable to me. Summer Days, the 13th song, was a crowd favorite. By the time of the second encore tune, a tremendous All Along the Watchtower, which somehow cut through the sonic mire, another woman behind me was dancing. Afterwards, I thanked her for appreciating what the music was rather than what she wanted it to be. Rocco asked if I knew her; no, I did not.

It was the consensus of everyone I talked to, including Bill and Brenda, that Amos Lee was excellent. There was generally positive opinions about Costello; I enjoyed him a great deal. But it was unanimous that the Dylan experience was disappointing. Rocco thought the show started strong, hit a lull in the middle, then ended great. Bill had gone to find another couple, who had better seats, still along the sides, and the sound was MUCH better, which makes me theorize that, depending on where you sat would have HEAVILY influenced how you felt about Bobby Z. and his band. Indeed I checked with someone with seats on the floor, and the sound was fine, though Dylan’s words were not, and even he suggested that the music didn’t really gel until the sixth or seventh song.

Still, I really enjoyed the first two acts, and the latter stages of the third, I got to meet Rocco’s girlfriend and hang out with Rocco, so it wasn’t as though the night were a total bust.
***
Sarge Blotto’s review and Dylan’s and Costello’s playlist.

ROG

"The fighter still remains"

Lefty had a question recently: Do you have a “special song” that is tied to an event in your life? I feel there are LOTS of songs that bring me specifically to a time and place, from Etta James’ At Last, which was played at Carol’s and my wedding after our five-year off-and-on courtship to Albinoni’s Adagio sung by my church choir three weeks before my friend Arlene died of cancer. There are probably hundreds of these.

Since Paul Simon’s birthday is today, I thought I’d note the effect of the songs of Simon & Garfunkel on me.

Album: Wednesday Morning 3 A.M.
Not so much, since I got it well after its 1964 release, maybe not until 1968.

Album: Sounds of Silence
We read the poem Richard Cory by Edwin Arlington Robinson in English class in junior high, and we were struck that, in the song, the protagonist, even after Cory’s suicide, STILL sings:
But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I’m living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory.

Was the worker suicidal as well? When you’re 13 or 14, this is heavy stuff.

Album: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme
It was my father who bought this, not for me or my sisters, but for himself.
The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy): possibly the first S&G song I owned personally, from a Columbia compilation album, Best of ’66; covers of Homeward Bound (by Chad & Jeremy) and Cloudy (by The Cyrkle, who had a hit with Simon’s Red Rubber Ball) was on it, too. So, I got to appreciate Paul as a WRITER.
The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine: I got razzed about this title.
A Simple Desultory Philippic (or How I Was Robert McNamara’d Into Submission: I was obsessed with this song, playing it over and over. (It has a Beatles reference, and it rocks.) When I got the S&G box set, the album was heavily represented, but to my disappointment, this song was not on it.
7 O’Clock News/Silent Night: My father’s favorite song. “In Chicago Richard Speck, accused murderer of nine student nurses, was brought before a grand jury today for indictment.” I remembered that case very well, and knew that there were eight nurses who died, as one was able to hide. So the codification of wrong information on the album really bugged me; a librarian, even then.

Album: Bookends
Voices of Old People: “I’d give, without regret, $100 for that picture.” Been there.
Mrs. Robinson: Since I never saw The Graduate until fairly recently, I mused on the meaning of this song for decades.
Punky’s Dilemma: “Old Roger draft-dodger, Leavin’ by the basement door, Everybody knows what he’s Tippy-toeing down there for.” Talkin’ about being razzed.
At the Zoo: Like many of these songs, I knew/know all the lyrics. My high school friend Carol HATED this song.

Album: Bridge Over Troubled Waters
My sister’s boyfriend had bought her the Bridge single. What I remember now is that the single was in a different key from the album cut; can’t remember which was higher. Or maybe it was different tape speeds, but the versions are not quite the same.
Cecilia: Among the group of the left-of-center, anti-war folks I hung out with in high school was Cecily, who I’m still friends with.
The Boxer: Another song I knew well, and eventually experienced “a comeon from the whores on 7th avenue” as described here. (I may have been lonesome, but I took no comfort there.)
Why Don’t You Write Me: A paean to everyone back home during my freshman year of college.

The solo Paul was even more significant. I’ll have to do that sometime.
ROG

Peace

I’m sure that you heard about that Academy-Award winning guy receiving the Nobel Peace Prize. But do you know who got this year’s Ig Nobel Peace Prize? Why, it was the Air Force Wright Laboratory, Dayton, Ohio, USA, for instigating research & development on a chemical weapon — the so-called “gay bomb” — that will make enemy soldiers become sexually irresistible to each other. In 2004, the Ig Nobel Prize in this category was won by Daisuke Inoue of Hyogo, Japan, for inventing karaoke, thereby providing an entirely new way for people to learn to tolerate each other.

The Ig Nobel Prize: you can waste the whole afternoon reading this stuff.
***
Local kid on JEOPARDY! tonight.

ROG

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