From the Desk of a Son…

My dad sent me an email that shared a letter from a retired Marine Corps Colonel.  A quick online search shows that this letter is available on Allen B. West’s website.

I responded to my dad this way:

Hi Dad,

I think you know me to be a very pro-American person.  I find the opportunity to stand during the National Anthem to be a time to reflect on the wonderful opportunities afforded me in this country.  Furthermore, I stand not out of compulsion but out of desire.  I am reminded of my time in uniform, when I watched young men (we only trained men at RTC San Diego) go through boot camp and graduate before being shipped off to faraway places to risk their lives.  We used to play the National Anthem at each graduation and each time it was incredibly emotional for me to experience what felt like the weight of a nation being supported on the shoulders of the young men that stood in front of me.

With that as context, I have a few thoughts.

  • I personally cannot relate to Colin Kaepernick’s (CK) method and venue for protest.  However, it is his right as an American to do so.  It is your/our/their/his/her/etc. right to disagree with CK’s choice(s), but we should fully support his right to take the actions he did or else we are trying to deprive him of the very freedoms for which men and women died.
  • The Marine below states that CK’s actions are “disrespect(ing) what brave Americans fought and died for”.  If the brave Americans fought and died for our freedoms (which I believe they did do) then I think they died so that people like CK could take actions that others find to be distasteful.  Furthermore, I don’t think he is disrespecting them, he is communicating that he thinks there is room for improvement in the lives of certain groups of people in America.  And I will say that anybody who disagrees with this is welcome to their opinion but in need of some perspective.
  • I do not think CK is disrespecting those who died, but rather he is using the freedoms they fought for in a way with which some might disagree—but that is the beauty (or should be) of America—we can agree to disagree.  Hopefully in a peaceful and respectful manner.  (Note that CK was peaceful—he didn’t disrupt anybody else—and respectful—at least in terms of not saying anything offensive nor undertaking any offensive actions other than not standing.)
  • Is it true that if they disrespected the refs or the owners or the other team’s players that they would be fined?  Yes.  But those are the rules and regulations of the NFL.  The rules and regulations of the USA state that he has a right to express himself. 
  • The author refers to CK (and others who take the same approach to protest) as “scum”—I’m not sure CK is scum.  Perhaps he is a man of extreme privilege who does not adhere to the image of the Marine’s idea of how a man of privilege should behave, but, really—scum?  As soon as you call somebody “scum”, especially for this, then it’s hard to get mad at Hillary Clinton for referring to Donald Trump’s supporters as “deplorables”—you can’t have it both ways unless you are okay with being a hypocrite.

 As I said earlier, I disagree with his method and venue for protesting, but I fully support his right to do so and am glad that we live in a country that, through the blood shed by uniformed men and women, we are all able to partake of such freedoms.  And we should strive to build a country where people want to stand and do so not out of compulsion (which is the very antithesis of freedom) but out of desire.



David Bowie: 1947-2016

Little known fact: David Bowie helped me get into college.

My first exposure to Bowie was around 1980, when a friend played a couple tracks from “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars”. I was immediately enamored of the album, bought it in La Grange, IL from Beautiful Day for $6.75 (including tax) and proceeded to try to wear it out on my record player. I made a cassette copy of it to play on my Walkman (actually a Sharp-branded knock-off) and probably did wear that out. I could recite all the words for every song on the album and used to write them on my notebooks in school. I got a book, the only one that I could find at the time, called “Bowie: An Illustrated Record” and pored over it. As a sophomore I got a “Ziggy Stardust” haircut (sans the orange color—wimp!), something that eventually became known as a mullet. I watched the “Ziggy Stardust: The Motion Picture” and nearly cried when he announces that not only is it the last show of the tour, but it’s last show they will ever do (even though he had already, thankfully, gone back on that statement. Three times.) Shortly thereafter when he toured in support of the “Let’s Dance” album I was so worried I might lose my ticket I bought a second one and I went to the concert with two tickets.

When I applied to Stanford, one of the questions was to describe a person, real or imaginary, alive or dead, with whom I would want to spend a day, and why. I thought about it for a while. My initial reaction was Bowie, but I started to think about how that would play on a college application and I immediately started to doubt. I remember thinking I should write about Jesus, or Ghandi, or Mother Theresa—you know, somebody “safe” that couldn’t be questioned. In the end, however, I stuck with my first choice. My mom helped by encouraging me to be real, and that if they didn’t accept me because I chose a crazy rock and roller then maybe I wouldn’t be a good fit anyway. I don’t remember the entire essay, but I remember talking about how he changed, moved forward, and reinvented himself, and then created some cheesy connection to how being at Stanford would allow me to change, move forward, blah blah blah.

Dean Jean and her team apparently had a small sense of humor and decided to grant me admission, even if I might show up with a mullet and some old glam rock albums. And although not perfect by any stretch, my time at Stanford was a big part of setting me on the path that led to the rest of my life, all the good, the bad, and the other, none of which I would trade for anything.

In college I continued to be a huge fan, and enjoyed telling people who I chose for my essay (it was a common question amongst other freshman in the dorm—and if I recall, the number 1 and 2 answers were “my grandfather/mother” or “Jesus”). I spent a small fortune for an import version of a Bauhaus double album simply because they covered “Ziggy Stardust” on it. I saw him again in concert. As CDs became the new media for music, I began buying CDs of the albums I already had sitting back home and continued to think “Ziggy” was the best album of all time.

I saw him one last time in concert, in 1990. Although his music and theatrics and stage presence were great on the previous tours, that show was the best one for me because he played, for the first time since the 70s, “Ziggy Stardust”.

After college I didn’t follow him obsessively, but I’d tune in to the news a bit, or hear about and buy the new albums, even though none of them captured my imagination like Ziggy. I enjoyed his appearance as Nikola Tesla in “The Prestige”. I was amused at his Bowie Bonds. I was impressed by his long-time marriage to Iman. And I continue to wear out the music (if digital formats are able to be worn out that is). And he remained faithful to who he is–always comfortable in his own skin whether his music or his movies were praised or panned. Even if he was, in any given moment, out of step with what was popular, it never prevented him from changing, moving forward, re-inventing himself, trying new things, and forever being who he was gifted to be.

Just last week I was on my commute and listening to the live version of “Hang on to Yourself” from the “Live Santa Monica ‘72” album. I worry about hearing loss as I get older, but this song usually causes me to throw caution to the wind, turn it up and sing myself hoarse, and last week was no exception. But it’s weird thinking about that and not knowing he was not only sick, but that he’d be gone in a few days. All the posts and links on Facebook have been awesome to read and reflect upon, while at the same time reminding me of the loss that his death leaves for so many.

And although I don’t have a lot of answers, I believe in an eternity and I hold out hope that I’ll still get a chance to spend that day with him.

Barrel-Aged Negroni

I’ve been a wine guy for close to two decades.  I re-started drinking beer a couple years ago, but I probably drink 5 beers/year.  About 18 months ago I had a gin and tonic that forever changed my opinion of a cocktail, and, for better or for worse, has opened up a new world to explore.

One of the drinks that everybody should try is a Negroni.  Equal parts gin, vermouth (the sweet, Italian variety), and Campari, it’s a great combination of sweet, bitter, citrusy, boozy.  You can have one in the afternoon, or make it a nightcap.  Just use good ingredients–in particular, don’t skimp on the vermouth, and make sure it isn’t good vermouth that has been opened for months and is now oxidized.

Several weeks ago we went to dinner at Cut in LA.  We arrived a bit early and had time to go to the bar, and I noticed on their menu a barrel-aged Negroni.  I was fascinated to see what this would do to one of my favorites.  Wow.  It was awesome.  It retained the fundamental character of the drink, but added complexity as well as taking a bit of the edge off the bitterness.  I like it so much that when I got home I ordered a barrel and put together my own batch (Aviation gin, Cocchi vermouth, Campari).

It’s an experiment for sure.  After three weeks (my first taste) it tasted like a Negroni to which somebody added maple syrup.  I love maple syrup, but in this case it changed the character too much.   After four weeks it was great, and I probably should have pulled it out of the wood.  After five weeks it took on a bitter, woody element–almost highlighting the bitterness of the Campari but in a negative way.  At close to six weeks, that has toned down and it is, hopefully, moving in the right direction again, but I’m tempted to say that 30 days, in a new, 2-liter barrel, would be the perfect–for my palate–amount of time, although I’m going to keep it going and probably either discard it if it gets way too oaky or maybe I’ll find that there is another good age at which it can be pulled out of the barrel.  I will say it makes me want to try this with some other drinks but there are so many variables I think I need to hone the craft a bit on this one.

The Best Laid Plans

A new year, two full years after I updated this site, made one post, then promptly got engaged with the rest of life.  Maybe this year I’ll write more instead of just thinking about it.  Maybe this year I’ll engage in those myriad topics, everything from theology to mixed drinks to musings on political topics (dangerous in a presidential election year).  Or maybe I’ll come back to this in 2018 and laugh at myself.  Again.

2014’s Resolution: Rhythm

Our Christmas holiday is over, school and work recommence, and we are going to be back at “it” in less than 12 hours.  That’s not a bad thing, but having two full weeks away from work (Carolynn and the girls had three away from school) has been a long enough time that I have really had a chance to change the pace of life.  The big question I’m asking myself now, however, is “will it stick?”

There is a rhythm to our lives, whether we are intentionally beating the drum or whether we are simply responding to it.  Furthermore I think that there are natural ways to be in synch with how we are created, but we too often find ourselves following the lead of a different conductor.

There is a rhythm to each day, each week, each season (even here in San Diego) and each year.  Unfortunately, too often I find myself ignoring those natural drumbeats and try to do things that don’t work.  I forget to take vacations (or rather, I assume that they will just happen, but I don’t actually plan them, and then they never take place).  I focus on my to-do list at the expense of a to-be list.  Although I need to pay bills, go to work, make dinner some nights, exercise, etc., I place too much importance on accomplishing those things instead of  being a good husband, an involved father, a co-worker who listens.

I’m not sure what the answer is, but one of my main goals for 2014 is to figure out how to be more and do less.