P.S. A Column On Things

Some Thoughts on Love

Two great ideas about Love from the Daily Calm meditation app recently. First, a quotation:

“I do not want to have you to fill the empty parts of me. I want to be full on my own. I want to fill so complete I could light a whole city and then I want to have you cause the two of us combined could set it on fire”
― Rupi Kaur

Meditation leader Tamara Levitt also recommended The Missing Piece by Shel Silverstein. A triangle is looking for the perfect love; she meets a Pac-Man (which, as you’ll recall, has a triangle shaped cutout for a mouth). Together, they could make a perfect circle. Instead, they decide to roll next to each other. That is difficult for a triangle, but eventually her edges get worn off and they roll together.

At a tumultuous time in my life, when I was a triangle looking for a Pac-man, a good friend told me, “Learn to love yourself and live with yourself first, then you’ll have something to give to a relationship.” He was right. I found my circle, and have spent 40 years wearing off my sharp points until I am a circle rolling along next to her. Of course, sometimes she had to shave them off…

On careful consideration, it seems to me a better analogy is jigsaw pieces. In my first three relationships, there were many matching loops and sockets, but there also some tabs that didn’t fit in slots. Then, with Vicki, I discovered that, together, we fit together completely and made a perfect cornerpiece for stable life together.

I have long wondered what I said or how I presented to Vicki the night we met that impressed her. I have never been handsome or athletic or suave, but somehow, she saw past all that. Yes, it was our minds, but it was more than that.

She says it wasn’t anything I said, it was my vibe. “You seemed to be stable and ready for a relationship.”

 I now choose to interpret that impression as being cast by my aura or my life force. I also believe we fell for each other so quickly because we were just picking up where we left off in a previous life. In any case, yes, I realize (as Vicki has pointed out) that there’s no longer any point in trying to figure out what it was. Whatever it was worked. Well, yes.

When Radio Stations had City Songs

This was a “this and that’ item last week, but I’ve promoted it because I have new information, obtained after obsessive searching, and some leads I hope someone else can help with. Check out my CitySongs page. One thing’s for sure, Portland is better than Seattle in so many ways, including its Golden West Broadcasting City Song. Check out the Washington City Song from WMAL and the better version of Call of the Northwest, plus whatever new cool stuff I have found in the meantime.

Things you Never Knew About Radio Station Jingles

I hope you’ll forgive my obsessive interest in this topic, but as some of you know I wanted to be a disc jockey when I was young. I scored a six-week gig at KVAN, Vancouver, playing underground rock in AM mono in the summer of 1969, but that was the beginning, middle and end of my career spinning records. The station was too small and cheap to afford sung jingles, so I never knew the thrill of hearing the Johnny Mann Singers singing my name (or even my air name, Gene Paul).

I don’t think young people listen to radio much anymore, but oldsters will surely remember the jingles burned into their memories. “More music, 62 KGW,” and “KISN radio, 91-derful” will be playing in my head on my death bed.

Years ago, a long-time friend of mine, Bruce Murdock, whose DJ dreams came true, walked me through the KGW Drake-Chenault jingle package, which is how I learned about “transition jingles.” As a civilian, you may never have noticed, but some jingle tempos were varied to create smoother transitions. As Murdock recently wrote:

“We had slow to fast, fast to fast and fast to slow. I asked where the slow to slow was and was told it was not format to play two slow songs back to back. Also in the package were logo jingles to shoot you out of commercials into music. The latest Drake package (known as double A) had four of those to match the song tempo. Slow, Medium, Fast, and VERY Fast.”

Think back. Can you remember that the jingles did this tempo shift? I’ll wager the musicians among you noticed the tempo change, but I wasn’t a musician then and I assure you I didn’t notice until it was pointed out to me.

And while we’re on the subject, this page of jingles from the days when KMPC played music is one of the most impressive such sets I have ever heard. Makes me wish I’d achieved my dream of becoming a disc jockey. For those of you who can remember him, Gary Owens of Laugh-In was a KMPC disc jockey.

Great Epictetus Quote

A friend of long standing shared this quote, which she sweetly assumed I already knew, since I am a quote hound. It was news to me, and I am happy to share it:

“People are not bothered by events, but by the views they take of events.”

To which she added his original (and very important and useful) coda:

"It is the action of an uninstructed person to reproach others for his own misfortunes; of one entering upon instruction, to reproach himself; and of one perfectly instructed, to reproach neither others or himself.”

Epictetus was a Greek stoic philosopher born shortly after Jesus’s death; his works were beloved by early Christians.

Or, as Arianna Huffington put it, “We have little power to choose what happens, but we have complete power over how we respond.”

This and That

ELECTION SOFTWARE PROJECT
Rather then dribbling out the information in drabs, there is now a special page for up-to-date information on the urgent effort to protect the election, including an upcoming briefing on Oct. 21. The Election Software Project Page is a must read.
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End Our National Crisis
The New York Times' special section on why we need to get rid of Trump.
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Free Copy of Day For Night
I just bought a used copy of Truffaut’s Day for Night, which I hadn’t seen since college. It’s in pretty good shape, and if you’re a regular reader of this column (and you still own a DVD player), I will mail it to you free of charge.
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Flower Names
Although girls are still sometimes named after flowers, that source of names is not as popular as it once was. One of my daughters ran across a woman named Oleander—a special flower in our family, as it almost became the basis of a children’s book, Oh Oleander. I think I will know we have achieved gender equality when I meet a man named Rose.
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Audio Editing Hacks
Fun with electronic editing. At WTBS, these were called hacks. Back in the 70s they were done with spliced magnetic tape. Now they can be done with electrons.

Alphabet Medley

Frank Sinatra/Ella Fitzgerald Duet: I’ve Got a Crush on You

Alphabet Song from single sung syllables

Love Meme

Poetry: Karma

I can’t be the only person in America who said, “Karma’s a bitch,” when Trump announced his diagnosis. According to my Indian son-in-law, it is unlikely anyone in India said that. However, I feel safe in saying I am the only one in either country who wrote a poem about it.

American understanding of karma: a glitch,
Cause often we say that “Karma’s a bitch.”

In India, Karma’s as clear as can be
It ain’t tit for tat
They can plainly see.

Is karma a bitch? Yes, from what I can see,
But she’s quite often been
A nice lady to me.

In my understanding, just that of a lad,
Selflessness: good karma,
Selfishness: bad.

Good karma gets banked, laid away in this life.
Means your next incarnation
May be free from strife.

This incarnation, succeeding so greatly,
Was preceded, I think,
By some that were saintly.

Of course I quite wish that I perfectly knew
What my last life entailed,
How good karma accrued.
(Most likely licking leper's sores,
Never robbing liquor stores.)

I try in this life to be gentle and sweet,
But no matter what,
Last time can’t be beat.

Poetry: Muse and Meter

“It don’t mean a thing,
If you ain’t got that swing,”
Is a lyric from long ago.

In poetry meter means swing,
But I find it a difficult thing.

Excessive attention to meter, methinks,
Can create poetry that really stinks.
When checking my meter, I made the choice
To listen more closely to my inner voice.

The words I had added to a verse last night,
Were added to make meter right.
This morning I looked, they lept off the page
Demanded to be put back in their cage.

I deleted them one by one,
Seldom have had more joyous fun.
The poem was much better
When I was done.

By the way,
It’s plain to see,
Rhyming now seems
To be stuck with me.
 
When I started writing poems,
I went with free verse.
Lehreresque describes my rhymes,
And yet I love that paradigm.

I must do what my Muse dictates,
No matter how early, no matter how late.
She says “make it rhyme,”
And what can I do?
If I ignore her, she acts like a shrew.

It won’t be a world-beater
If it ain’t got that meter.
That’s my motto now
And how.

Protect The Election

FIRST, WHILE WE ARE AT IT:  I HAVE VOTED. HAVE YOU? IF NOT, WHY NOT?

Here is an ongoing effort to protect the election, mentioned previously in this column. The remains the same, but the content changes. In particular, the project now has delivered requests for documents to all 492 counties in the seven states. Requested documents are flowing in, being analyzed, and made ready for use, as stated, on November 4. A major step forward. When the project is stonewalled, the stonewallers may get articles like this to read in their morning newspaper. Financial support still gratefully accepted. (See Here’s What You Do To Donate.

This and That

Me on Journalism
A complete look at my copious thoughts on journalism.
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Me on Graphics
In particular, see my thoughts on graphics and find out why this infographic is terrific

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Me on My Heritage

The Armenians are being attacked, again, in the Middle East. I passed along a clipping to a friend of mine, the first person to explain the Armenian genocide to me. It made me think of my Swiss heritage, most neatly summed up:

“You know what the fellow said – in Italy, for thirty years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love, they had five hundred years of democracy and peace – and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.”
― Graham Greene, The Third Man

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NOT Randy Rainbow, Still Funny
The Late Late Show with James Corden: Trump: Maybe I'm Immune - Paul McCartney Parody.
Frankly, I can’t wait for Weird Al’s take.
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Impressive Wealth Growth
Someone at NPR (I didn't catch the name of the program) did some impressive math last week. Jeff Bezos of Amazon has a million employees. His net worth INCREASED this year by $74 billion. As we used to say at MIT, just do the math. He could give all million of his employees a $7,400 bonus and still have the EXACT SAME AMOUNT OF NET WEALTH he had on January 1. Maybe we should raise taxes on everyone making more than $400,000 a year (good Joe Biden idea).
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When Radio Stations had City Songs
When I was a boy in Portland, Oregon in the 50s and 60s, KEX had a lovely song entitled  Call of the Northwest [lyrics here]. Turns out that at least one one other Gene Autrey/Golden West Broadcasting station had a city song: KSFO's Sound of San Francisco. I will wager KVI had a Seattle Song and KMPC a Los Angeles song. Anyone know for sure? For updates on this item, go here.

Positive Psych For Dummies

Best thing you can do

Wounded Bird

I don’t know if there is an official musical genre called “The Apology Song” or the “I’m Sorry Song,” but if not, there should be. There are actually songs with those exact titles, I find. Well, I wrote an apology by way of free verse to my wife early this year, and I wasn’t sure it could be made into a song since it didn’t rhyme. My anonymous collaborator told me, “Lots of songs don’t rhyme,” so I paid him to set it to music, and am enormously pleased with the results.

For a long time, I limited the circulation of Wounded Bird [lyrics here] to immediate family, because it is so raw and painful. But this year, since I started writing poetry and occasionally paying to have it made into a song, I have been listening, really listening, to lyrics for the first time in my life. The best songs, the ones with legs, the ones that mean something to people, are “ripped from the headlines” of the lyricist’s life.

After 40 years of marriage, I realized I had some unresolved trauma from a prior relationship. In a grace-filled process, some of it described in this column, I have worked out the trauma this year. I was grateful to my wife for putting up with my invisible wounds for all those years, and Wounded Bird is the result.

In addition to my family, I released this song to three acquaintances who said they were interested. To my surprise, they were deeply moved. Love, like life, is not all peaches and cream, so I decided to share the song more widely.

Some of my love songs hit both the funny bone and the heart. I think this one is laser-targeted on the heart. And I feel certain I am not the only person who has ever felt the emotions in this song; if I’m lucky, I am just a little better than average at expressing them, and, perhaps, have given some listeners words to describe their feelings, for themselves or to share.

I am not now, and never expect to be, a real lyricist. But that doesn’t mean I can’t act like one occasionally.

Pieces of String

I don’t know where I heard the phrase “pieces of string” used to describe the detritus a columnist stores up for a three-dot column. I read Herb Caen starting when I was 12 and had to buy the Sunday Chronicle out at the Portland Airport, continuing until the day he died, so I suspect I got it from him.

During my seven-year hiatus from this column, the ball of string got quite large. And yet, I am surprised, but shouldn’t be, to see how the maw chews up a big pile at an astounding rate. In my current period of fervid creativity, driven by my muse, I am still staying ahead. But my feelings are well summed up but this quotation, from my journalism quotes page:

“I can tell you what it’s like to work for a newspaper. Imagine a combine, one of those huge threshing machines that eat up a row of wheat like nothing, bearing right down on you. You're running in front of it, all day long, day in and day out, just inches in front of the maw, where steel blades are whirring and clacking and waiting for you to get tired or make one slip. The only way to keep the combine off you is to throw it something else to rip apart and digest. What you feed it is stories. Words and photos. Ten inches on this, fifteen inches on that, a vertical shot here and a horizontal there, scraps of news and film that go into the maw where they are processed and dumped onto some page to fill the spaces around the ads. Each story buys you a little time, barely enough to slap together the next story, and the next and the next. You never get far ahead, you never take a breather, all you do is live on the hustle. Always in a rush, always on deadline, you keep scrambling to feed the combine. That's what it's like. The only way to break free is with a big story, one you can ride for a while and tear off in pieces so big, the combine has to strain to choke them down. That buys you a little time. But sooner or later the combine will come chomping after you again, and you better be read to feed it all over again.”

--Ray Ring

from the novel Arizona Kiss

Advice to my Grandson Redux

As I mentioned before, I am writing a book of advice for my grandson, in case I’m not around to provide it in person. I have shared this with some friends, who’ve provided some smart modifications.

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First, let me note that a feminist friend of mine told me, “Don’t teach your grandson that he’s the one who has to propose, to ask for a woman’s hand in marriage. Women have an equal right to propose.” She’s right of course, but even as recently as when your mom (2016) got married, it was the man who asked.

One thing for sure, based on my extremely painful experience: when a woman says “I’m not ready to get married,” no matter what else she says, no matter how wonderful she is, if you’re looking for a permanent relationship, don’t walk away: RUN AWAY.

My advice in this regard is:

• Don’t propose unless you’re sure you know the answer.
• In my experience the longer the proposal is considered, the better. My first fiancée said yes immediately. That was my shortest engagement. My second took a day to say yes, and that didn’t work out either. Your grandmother took a month between my proposal and her affirmative response. You know how that worked out.
• Promise me, whether I am dead or alive when you read this, that you will NEVER say “This is it!” about a relationship that is any less than nine months old. The amount of pain you may prevent is unfathomable.

WARNING WARNING

If you are in a committed relationship (not a fling, but a relationship you think might last), and you find yourself regularly having secret (from your significant other) meetings with a woman and talking—just talking—to her seriously about anything, IT IS A WARNING SIGN. I did this once, and I had it done to me once. One or two meetings are one thing. Meet for weeks and it is a warning sign you should not ignore: you are not ready for a serious monogamous commitment. I hope to all that is holy that you never do this and never have it done to you. The deceived partner’s pain is beyond description. At least mine was.

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