Ralston Creek Review

SONG OF THE WEEK – I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS

This Song of the Week is an instrumental version of “I’ll See You in My Dreams,” played by Chet Atkins and Merle Travis. I’m not going to say much about them. I assume that anyone who is drawn to this post already knows who they are. For those who don’t, I’m afraid that I would need a whole lot more space than this to even try to do these men justice.

Let me briefly explain how I came to choose the song, though. After mentioning guitarists like Mark Knopfler and Chitarrista Misterioso in last week’s post, I spent some time listening to some of Knopfler’s recordings and I came across a video of him playing “I’ll See You in My Dreams” with Chet Atkins. That reminded me of a version I had heard a long time ago played by Atkins and Merle Travis.

That made me think that it would be nice to write about one of the songs written by Merle, like “Dark as a Dungeon” or “Sixteen Tons.” However, I listened again to Merle and Chet playing “I’ll See You in My Dreams” and decided it sounds so downright pleasant that I should post it here.

For those of you who are into musical history, you know that Merle Travis and Chet Atkins have influenced the way the guitar is played and understood in country music, and ultimately rock music, more than anyone else you can name. This duet is a good example of why that is.

As for the song, the tune of “I’ll See You in My Dreams” was written by a band leader named Isham Jones in 1924. It was on the charts for four months back then, and was the Number One song in the country for seven weeks. In the years since, it has been recorded by the likes of Al Jolson, Doris Day, Jerry Lee Lewis, Andy Williams, Bob Wills and many others; and has been featured in several motion pictures. The version below is probably one of the best.

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SONG OF THE WEEK – I AIN’T MARCHING ANYMORE

Sometimes – and usually it only lasts until my wife sets me straight – but too often – I start to think that I am more clever than I really am. Recently, I thought it might be clever to write something contrasting Jack Dawkins, the Artful Dodger, with Donald Trump, the Deceitful Draft Dodger. It wasn’t long before I realized that the idea would not go over well because there are just too many people who have attended “schools” like Trump University and who don’t even know who Charles Dickens is – or was.

I also realized it would be disingenuous of me because at about the same time Mr. Trump was not serving his country in Vietnam, I was not serving my country there, either. For a lot of that period of non-service, our excuses were the same: we were attending college and entitled to student deferments.

My next idea was to post Phil Ochs’ “Draft Dodger Rag” as a Song of the Week. However, doing so would be unfair because I would still imply that Mr. Trump was just a “draft dodger,” as his critics have said; and not recognize that he may have held strong convictions about the injustice of the Vietnam War and the draft that cycled 18-, 19- and 20-year old boys and men to die by the thousands and accomplish very little. I had such convictions, and Trump may have, too.

Instead, I decided to post Ochs’ song, “I Ain’t Marching Anymore.” This piece, first released on the 1965 album of the same name, is thematically similar to compositions like Buffy Sainte-Marie’s “Universal Soldier” and “Masters of War” and “With God on Our Side” by Bob Dylan in showing that throughout history the conscript, the foot soldier, the one who had no personal political power at home has been sacrificed to benefit those who did hold power. “It’s always the old who lead us to the war, always the young to fall,” Ochs sings. Then he recognizes that the same young men who are being sent to die hold power to stop the killing by simply refusing to participate. I purposely chose not to participate and perhaps my compadre, Donald, did the same.

While he was attending Ohio State University, Phil Ochs’ roommate, Jim Glover, taught him to play guitar and introduced him to folk music and leftist politics. Ochs was a sergeant in the ROTC at the time, but he learned well and quickly. He dropped out of college after his junior year and moved to Greenwich Village where he wrote “protest songs” and performed in the coffee houses.

He was a good songwriter and delivered his message with such passion that he soon became a leading spokesman for the anti-war movement. He had moderate commercial success for a few years, while continuing his political involvement through things like his performing for the protesters at the 1968 Democratic Convention and then testifying (and reciting the words to “I Ain’t Marching Anymore”) at the trial of the Chicago Seven.

However, throughout his whole career he seemed to be in the shadow of Bob Dylan. From what I have read, Phil Ochs idolized Dylan; but Dylan “toyed with that idolatry and kept Ochs at arms length,” as one commentator has said. Nevertheless, he did perform several times with Dylan, and was a part of Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Review in 1974.

By the mid-1970s, Ochs had begun to exhibit some serious mental and emotional problems. The quality of his song writing declined, he began performing dressed as an Elivis imitator, he suffered permanent vocal damage from a mugging in Tanzania, and he tragically took his own life in 1976.

There is so much more that could be said about Phil Ochs, but this is not the right post for that. A good, succinct remembrance by Richie Unterberger is available at allmusic.com.

My own memory of him goes back to August of 1966. During my very first week at the University of Colorado, Phil Ochs played a free concert on campus. It was a pretty informal setting, and I remember Phil walked out in front of the small crowd and began tuning his guitar. He did it magnificently. He was playing riffs that impressed me no end while turning the tuning pegs a bit here and there. I was just a kid. At that point I had never heard Jimi Hendrix or Mark Knopfler or Rudy Spano. Still, I had heard good guitarists before and knew how to play F, C, G and Am chords myself; and I could tell the guy had talent. He had a clear, melodious voice and he delivered his singing journalism with such conviction that I had to agree that I wasn’t marching anymore – and I had been in marching band throughout high school, so I knew about marching.

You know, there is probably much more that could be said about Donald Trump, too. I could even try to say something else nice about him, but no one would believe me. So, Donald, if you read this, I ain’t goose stepping any more. You have toadies for that.

Continue reading “SONG OF THE WEEK – I AIN’T MARCHING ANYMORE”

CIVILITY IN POLITICAL DISCOURSE

I have mentioned from time to time that I am very disappointed in the level of what passes for discussion of the upcoming presidential election. My wife and our cat and dog agree with me, so our discourse around the house remains civil. However, yesterday Darcy (our dog) thought it the humane (dogs are humane) thing to do to suggest that others try to practice civility and understanding of their neighbors. Unfortunately, she chose the Washington Times as her forum.

She chose that site because I had it open to read an article about how Colorado Democratic Senator Michael Bennett is the most vulnerable incumbent in the country in this year’s senatorial elections. That was the thesis even though the Republicans have not only not picked an opposing candidate, they don’t even know who their potential candidates are going to be due to ongoing court proceedings concerning the validity of signatures on the candidates’ petitions. Be that as it may, here is what Darcy said, and the responses she generated (and I am not making this up):

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HEART OF MIRACLES – BOOK REVIEW

I recently read a book by a new author named Karen Henson Jones. The book is entitled Heart of Miracles: My Journey Back to Life After a Near-Death Experience. I posted a brief review on Amazon.com, and here I repeat those thoughts in the next four paragraphs, but there are some other things I would like to say; hence, this review.

Beat poet Gregory Corso wrote of having a life that was not up to him. “No choice of two roads,” he wrote, “if there were, I don’t doubt I’d have chosen both.” That view of life could be echoed by the author of this well-written book. Everything that happens to her stems from the sudden disruption of her normal, upwardly mobile life due to a heart rhythm abnormality that was discovered after a fainting episode in a Georgetown restaurant. She did not choose for that that to happen, but as she was recuperating the road that opened to her was a spiritual path of meditation, yoga and metaphysical books.Continue reading “HEART OF MIRACLES – BOOK REVIEW”

VE DAY

Today is May 8, 2016. In the United States we are celebrating Mothers Day. In some other parts of the world the people are celebrating VE (Victory in Europe) Day. It was on May 8, 1945, that the Allies formally accepted the surrender of Nazi Germany, ending World War II in Europe.

One year ago today I was in Paris. All the streets around the Champs-Élysées were closed and watched by heavily armed security forces while President Hollande proceeded down the Champs-Élysées to place a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Arc de Triomphe. I was in the crowd standing on the sidewalk to see the president go past. Here is a photo:

And this is the wreath he left:

I see that this year the Champs-Élysées was closed to motor vehicles and became a pedestrian zone for VE Day. This is a picture I found on the internet (Japan Times, of all places) showing the celebration of what is supposed to now be a monthly no-car day:

It looks like a good time.

Speaking of good times, here is another picture I found on the internet. I’m not certain, but I think this may be some Donald Trump supporters celebrating his recent primary victories:

MONEY TALKS

To begin, anyone who knows me or has read many of the posts on this blog understands that I have the greatest respect for His Holiness the Dali Lama. I hope that what I say here will not be considered disrespectful, even though it goes against some people’s belief that His Holiness has reached a state of enlightenment that is not influenced by money.

Ever since the Dali Lama established Tibet’s government in exile in the beautiful town of Dharamsala, in a valley at the foot of the Dhauladhar Mountains, one of his greatest supporters has been Analjit Singh, a billionaire who is one of the richest men in India. He is the former head of Max India, a corporation with extensive interests in health insurance, health care and senior living facilities. It costs a lot of money to run any kind of government, so Mr. Singh’s financial assistance has certainly been appreciated.

Dali Lama speaking at Vana, April 6 2016 (photo originally from dalilama.com)

Analjit Singh is from the area around Dehradun, a town in another lovely valley that is at the foot of the Himalayas. His son, Veer Singh (who spends a lot of time here in Colorado – in Aspen, to be more precise), has recently developed the family’s 21-acre Dehradun estate into a wellness and retreat center called Vana. The center is designed for an elite clientele. With rooms starting at 25,000 Rupees per night ( a little less than US$400), and a minimum stay of five nights, plus extras, even the bare minimum stay, with no spa services, would cost more than the annual income of the average Indian (about 100,000 Rupees per year). A retreat there may well be worth the cost. The staff includes practitioners of Ayurveda, Traditional Chinese Medicine, yoga, Reiki and traditional Tibetan medicine (courtesy of the the initial graduates of the Men-Tsee-Khang Institute that was established by the Dali Lama).

Well, Veer Singh decided that it would be nice for the Dali Lama to come by and talk with a few hundred of his close friends and associates. Continue reading “MONEY TALKS”

STRAIGHTEN UP, DONALD

There has been an awful lot written about Donald Trump over the past few months. Those articles have examined Trump’s ever changing positions on almost everything except his own chronic physical position. That is what we will consider here.

No matter how a person may feel about Donald Trump – whether they support his candidacy or oppose it or may have heard the name someplace but can’t place it – everyone seems to agree that he often comes across as an ignorant buffoon who seems to have no control over or concern about what he may say. His intellect and/or veracity may not be totally to blame for that failing, however. There may be an underlying physical reason.

A person with proper posture holds his or her head so that the ears are directly over the shoulders. Watch Donald Trump, though. He habitually holds his whole head forward from his shoulders. That posture pulls his first rib out of position, puts undue stress on the scalene muscles, causes headaches and neurological problems and adversely affects a person’s emotions. Yoga instructors, chiropractors and devotees of the Alexander Technique tell us that chronically poor posture makes us lose touch with our natural rhythms and about the way we feel within ourselves.

Perhaps soon some television network will conduct an interview with Mr. Trump while he wears a cervical collar allowing him to hold his head up properly. That should improve the clarity of his thinking and let everyone know how he really feels about the important national issues.

JAMES LEE WELTZER

[This is the eulogy that nobody heard. My brother, Jim, passed from this world on New Year’s Eve, December 31, 2015. That tragedy was made even worse when his wife, my sister-in-law, Lisa, died of a liver disorder several days later. A joint memorial service was held for them and I had intended to give one of the eulogies. I prepared my comments, but less than 48 hours before the service I underwent a 7-hour medical procedure and I was not able to deliver the eulogy. This is pretty much what I would have said.]

First, I would like to thank you all for being here today. It is a sad time for all of us, and the whole family appreciates your love and support.

There are many of you who have known Jim for 30 years or more, and know a lot about him. I would like to mention just a few things that you may never have had the chance to know because he wasn’t your baby brother.

It’s true. Jim started out as a baby back in 1952, when Harry Truman was president and the only television station in Denver had been broadcasting for only eight weeks. It was a simpler time, but an exciting time for me because I was already four years old and my brother Lonny was three – and we had a new baby in the house. I still remember how our mother always made sure we had something quiet to do when the baby was sleeping. You don’t want to wake those babies. But whatever we were doing, we listened carefully and as soon as we heard the baby stirring we yelled, “Jimmy’s awake,” and ran to the crib to see him wake up, and to see him move about and play the way babies do. Just watching made us so happy. It was absolutely our favorite pastime (like most families, we did not own a television, so that one channel was not a choice for entertainment).

As we all grew, we continued to watch him play because whatever we did, Jimmy was tagging along. And we were still happy to have him there because he had that way that young children have to make whatever they do fun and joyful. The one place he couldn’t tag along with us was going to school. He hated to miss that and he couldn’t wait until he would be five years old and could come to kindergarten.

There was a problem, though. The rules said that children entering kindergarten had to be five years old by September 1^st. His birthday was September 16^th. He was crushed, but my parents met with school officials and convinced them to let Jimmy take a test to see if he was ready for kindergarten. He passed; he started school; and he was always one of the smartest kids in his class, even though he was often the youngest – by about two weeks.

He was a good athlete. He played some baseball and football during his school days, but his real passion was skiing. Whenever he could, he would get rides with friends or ride the ski train to Winter Park. He loved his time on the slopes and became an accomplished skier – until one of his black diamond runs was rudely interrupted by a tree, which blew out his knee.

Jim’s travels weren’t limited to ski trips. From the time he was in high school, he and his friend, Jan Jesser, used their vacation time to hop on Greyhound Bus or hitchhike to places like Crested Butte and Durango and Taos and Santa Fe for a long weekend or for a week or more. After they graduated, and he and Jan weren’t together as much, Jim continued to take those trips across much of the Western United States, just for the adventure.

His longest trip, and the one I considered as certainly the most adventurous, was when he took off by himself to spend six weeks traveling around Germany and Eastern Europe. He even went to some countries that were considered to be behind the “Iron Curtain” back then, in the 1970s.

One place that Jim somehow missed during his travels was the State of Ohio. Now, my wife Cathy was born and raised in Ohio, and when we got married there in February of 1980, I remedied that oversight by bringing Jim along to be my best man.

Then, in what now seems quick succession, he met Lisa, married her, Paul and Sara were born, and the adventure and sense of exploration in his life got a new focus. Poet
T. S. Eliot wrote, “We shall not cease from exploration/And the end of all our exploring/Will be to arrive where we started/And know the place for the first time.”

The place where Jim arrived was “family.” The baby brother now had his own babies. He remained a good son and a great brother, but he was even more a husband and father. We all thought he was a “rock.” He went to work for Mountain Bell, and stayed for decades. The company itself changed to US West and Qwest and CenturyLink, and I don’t even remember what else. Through it all, Jim took on some hard assignments, earned a good living and made sure that his family was never in need. When Paul and Sara had their track meets and soccer games and other activities, he was there for them. When neighborhood kids needed a safe, supporting place to hang out, they knew they could go over to see Paul and Sara.

Jim and Lisa did a great job of raising their children. Just look at Paul and Sara now.

I also want to mention what a great support Jim was to our parents – especially as they grew older. As an example, when our dad was 91 years old, he and our mother took an extended trip to Texas to visit some relatives. On Thanksgiving Day, our dad wound up in intensive care with a serious respiratory disorder. By the next day, Jim had arranged to take time off from work and flew to Dallas to help the family through that crisis.

Two years later, our brother, Lonny, needed a stem cell transplant to try to correct a rare bone marrow disease. Jim volunteered to be the donor. He went through all the tests and turned out to be a good match. Some complications arose and he became the back-up donor. Still, through the whole procedure he was ready and willing to come to Houston on a moment’s notice if he was needed.

Well, those are a few things that you may or may not have known about my baby brother. I miss him and I miss Lisa. Thank you.

YEAR OF THE MONKEY – 2016

Under the Oriental lunar calendar, the Year of the Monkey begins with the new moon on February 8, 2016 and lasts until January 27, 2017. Different cultures have slightly different interpretations of the various years, and in this post I will refer primarily to the so-called “Chinese zodiac.”

Most people know that the years in the Chinese zodiac cycle through twelve different animals. Additionally, each of those animal years cycle through affinities to the five elements – fire, earth, metal, water and wood. This will be the Year of the Fire Monkey, which occurs every 60 years.

I will be making some predictions as to what may occur during the next year, but I am not holding myself out as having extraordinary psychic powers. I am no more or no less psychic than you are – and that is true whether you are Suzy Skeptic who does not believe in the existence of anything “paranormal” or you are the world’s top psychic or astrologer (whomever that may be be at the moment).

The approach here is to assume that there are historical cycles such as those recognized by the Chinese zodiac, and then look at what has occurred in previous Monkey years. With that historical perspective, we should be able to extrapolate and predict what may occur during the next few months.

Before getting into that, let me say that the Year of the Sheep or Goat, which is thankfully coming to a close, has been a rough one. For the past several weeks I have been dealing with some personal crises that have limited my research and writing. Consequently, this year’s discussion is going to be more brief and cursory than have those in past years.

There is a children’s rhyme that begins: “Five little monkeys jumping on the bed/One fell off and bumped his head/Called for the doctor and the doctor said/’No more monkeys jumping on the bed.'” Monkey years are often like that. Acting on irrational exuberance without sound planning is the order of the day. Things may go wrong and need to be fixed, but in most cases, it is going to be done after the fact.

Buddhists and other meditators tell us about the “monkey mind” that keeps us from controlling our thoughts. While that unsettled way of thinking is with us too much of the time, it will be even more prevalent during the coming year.

The best advice would be to recognize these trends and try to quiet the monkey mind and act rationally before making any important decisions. That may not be possible for many of us over the next 12 months, however.

As the new lunar year is ready to begin, the American news media is focusing on the presidential campaign and the distressing state of the stock market/economy. Let us begin by looking at those topics.Continue reading “YEAR OF THE MONKEY – 2016”

FOR THE NEW YEAR: HEALING CHANT

For those of us temporally tied to the Gregorian Calendar, the new year of 2016 will begin in just a few days. This is the first of three posts leading to that event.

The whole world probably has some tie to that Gregorian Calendar today, but it was not always so. In earlier times, humans lived according to the broad changes of the seasons without much need to specify any single, particular day. However, the uniting of significant portions of the world under the Romans brought the administrative necessity for a common calendar. In the year we now call 46 B.C., Julius Caesar, after consulting the Egyptian astronomer Sosigenes, decreed that the empire would use a calendar based on a solar year of 365 days, with an extra day added every fourth year.

Thus, the average year became 365.25 days. That became problematic, though, because the true solar year, based on the Earth’s orbit around the Sun, is really about 11 minutes shorter than was recognized by the calendar – and it changes by a second or two every few years. Consequently, the calendar became out of synch with the solstices and equinoxes by a whole day every 130 years or so. As the centuries passed, the celebration of Easter (as determined by the First Council of Nicaea) was moving closer to summer and the dates for the seasons had varied significantly.

The Catholic Church set up a committee of astronomers to study the matter. After many years of research, a papal bull was issued by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582, changing the calculation for the celebration of Easter and modifying the old Julian Calendar. Under the new Gregorian Calendar, an extra day was added every fourth year, except no day is added to years that are divisible by 100, unless the year is also divisible by 400, in which case the extra day is added. In other words, the year 2000 was a leap year, even though 1900 was not. Simple, huh?

The Gregorian Calendar was adopted, sometimes hesitantly, by most of the so-called Western World by the end of the 18th Century. As a result of a need for uniformity in matters of global commerce, the rest of the world began using it for many purposes by the early part of the 20th Century.

While Pope Gregory’s decree established the length of the year, it did not say when the year should start. For a long time, the Church continued to use Christmas, December 25th, as the beginning of its ecclesiastical year. Other groups chose to begin the new year on January 1st – or March 1st – or March 25th – or on a solstice or equinox day. It took awhile, but here in the 21st Century there is a general agreement that the calendar year begins on January 1. That is the date coming at the end of this week.

There are various traditions for celebrating the transition from one year to the next. In the United States, it is common to “ring out the old and ring in the new” with a celebratory party featuring happy people and funky music.

It is also common to look back on years like 2015 with a desire to heal the many things that have gone wrong. We have been through mass killing and terrorist attacks, there have been wars and insurgencies. 2015 was not even an election year but the U.S. has experienced a divisive, media-driven political campaign filled with lies and demagoguery.

On a more personal level, numerous friends and relatives have suffered illnesses, injuries, physical deterioration, loss and pain. There is a need for healing on a personal, as well as a global, level.

Well, I would like to suggest a song you should listen to. It is performed by the Neville Brothers, who are the epitome of of funky New Orleans soul and rhythm and blues. The song is “Healing Chant” from their wonderful 1989 album, Yellow Moon. This is a powerful song that truly can help to bring healing. You should listen to it.