Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Only Music Class Will Tell

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
When MTV first came into the Francis family home, circa 1982, every time I turned to that channel, I saw this video from Asia.



What's more, we studied this song in my fifth-grade music class. From time to time, our music teacher would play a hit record and we'd study the elements. With Asia, you had a lot of elements to study: you had a powerful synthesizer track, powerful vocals, soaring guitars, and that distinctive "phooom" of Moog Taurus bass pedals.

We studied other pop hits in that class:
"Silvery Rain" by Olivia Newton-John
"The Devil Went Down To Georgia" by Charlie Daniels (the cleaned-up version which had the line, "I told you once you son-of-a-gun" instead of the more famous retort)

Asia mastered progressive rock with a pop sensibility, and they did it a lot quicker than Genesis. Still, unfortunately, they took a lot of flak for being too commercial.

This is one of the songs I have watch out for if I play it in the car. I could tend to speed up over its power and enthusiasm. That's the kind of thing that led to a criminal speeding ticket when I was driving to Las Vegas. I won't make that mistake again.

Monday, June 26, 2017

No Good Ball Goes Without Emptiness

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
In 2006, before Hamilton hit Broadway, the hottest show ticket in New York City belonged to Wicked. I scored a seat by standing in the cancellation line on Easter Sunday and waiting... waiting... waiting for an hour and a half. The blinds in the cancellation window would go up, and somebody would hand out tickets a couple at a time. The blinds would drop again and as I got closer to the window, I kept hoping something would be left over. I ended up paying more than $100 for an orchestra-level ticket, but the show was absolutely worth it.

I knew I wanted to see it the moment I saw the show's breakout performance on an episode of Martha Stewart's daytime talk show:



I bought the cast album not long after I returned to Tucson and loaded "No Good Deed" into my iPod Nano. It got a lot of plays, but not as much as when I was driving back from Prescott following the We Make History Buccaneer Ball in June 2006, part of what was shaping up to be an epiphany year of wonderful balls and wonderful people. And this one came with some miracle moments before and after. After an intensely blessed experience like that, the afterglow is strong and the comedown from bliss even stronger.

I must've played "No Good Deed" at least a dozen times in my state of mourning over having to journey back into reality, in that long drive home. But why that song? Why not something else? I think it has to do with the theme of reluctantly accepting reality, doing what I didn't want to do. At that time, I was happier living in the past than in the present. It would take several more months before I would confess it before friends who would step in to make the save.

Sunday, June 25, 2017

You've Got To Get In To Get Out

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
I have never seen my favourite band, Genesis, live in concert -- at least not live in person. I have several bootleg CD's and recordings, including their 1976 concert film. I originally taped it off USA's "Night Flight" when they broadcast it circa 1987. I made a cassette recording of that concert and played it over and over, especially while riding the bus to speech and debate tournaments. Once again, my musical tastes diverged from the pack, but I couldn't resist trippy sets like this: a mashup of "Broadway Melody of 1974" and "Carpet Crawlers" from The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, that double-album rock opera which the band doesn't seem to want to call a rock opera.



This version of "Melody" is my favourite. Omitting Peter Gabriel's lyrics makes the piece stronger -- along with Tony Banks' combination of RMI Electric Piano (which has been run through a chorus pedal, as far as I can tell) and Mellotron M400 (featuring string section tapes likely embellished with echo or reverb). Notice also that guitarist Steve Hackett is wearing a puffy Jacobite shirt!

When I needed to think, I put this on. When I needed to write, I put this on -- along with a lot of other Genesis music. But ultimately I wouldn't be able to either think or write because I would be too busy listening.

Saturday, June 24, 2017

Walking On Baroque-n Glass

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
One idea I've played around with for awhile is wanting to have a Georgian/Colonial/English historic dance party with non-period music. Some pop songs have enough historic flair to lend themselves to longways sets, and this one from Annie Lennox would definitely be on the list:



It has a couple of pauses I would have to work out, but I think I could find a dance that would fit -- or I could construct one.

Another candidate for the non-period period ball -- this one by The Left Banke:



The Fab Four would get their due:



Surprisingly, and probably much to the concern of some of you purists, old disco records might actually work very well for non-period-correct English Country Dance. They have a solid, four-on-the-floor beat that's easy to dance to. As such, I'd have to include this one on my playlist from Yvonne Elliman:



This particular record could pose a few challenges because it has some variations that could throw a few dancers. But how many of us dance adventurists have backed down from a challenge?

Friday, June 23, 2017

Across The Distance

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
One my favourite Genesis songs that never made it onto an album comes from the 1990's, when they recorded We Can't Dance, and left off "On The Shoreline," a song that deserved to be on the disc rather than "Since I Lost You."



I hear this and I think about this moment near Monterrey, standing on the rocks of the shoreline on New Year's Day of 2010.



The lyrics nearly sound like a worship song... and it could very well be, in the proper context. But more, it's about uncertainty and decisions and reaching a crossroads in your life. It reminded me of where I had been, and where I wanted to go.

Well there's a place where two worlds collide
The pile of stone against the pull of the tide
You can stay with your feet on the ground
Or step into the water, leave the dry behind

On the shoreline
Meet me on the shoreline
Where you can only swim if you try

Well, if there's somewhere on the other side
It might be better, it might be as bad
Someday soon you'll have to make a move
Cos you can't stay forever, ah just waiting

On the shoreline (on the shoreline)
Meet me on the shoreline (on the shoreline)

Take me over, lead me through

Well can you take me there, to the other side
Where everything is new, uncertain and strange
Don't ever let me go till we're there
I don't know what it is I'm looking for
And until it's found I won't be sure...

Well, there are squares in the game of life
When you can keep on moving or turn aside
Yes, there are times when you have to decide
To put your feet in the water, or stay

On the shoreline (on the shoreline)
Meet me on the shoreline (on the shoreline)
Where you can only swim if you try
I'll be there - oh
On the shoreline (on the shoreline)
I'll be there on the shoreline (on the shoreline)
Where you can only swim if you try
I'll be there
I'll be there - oh
Yes, I'll be there
I'll be there...

Thursday, June 22, 2017

Be Still My Curious Eyes

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
In the late 1980's, when my Queen Mother was pursuing her Master's degree in education, she made many a trip to the UMKC library with your young servant along for the ride. One one cold February day, as we journeyed from Raytown towards downtown Kansas City -- and through the seedier, trashier, run-down parts of town lining Swope Parkway -- I remember this song coming over the radio, which I had tuned to KYYS ("KY-102") as I developed a taste for album-oriented rock.



"Is that Sting?" the Queen Mum asked.

"Yes," I said, surprised she knew that.

"He has a very distinctive voice."

Mother knew best, and she crammed her head with all sorts of knowledge in those days as she researched at that library. I liked it because it had oodles of magazines I couldn't find at school, including Radio/Television Age, that trade publication that let me read about everything going on in the broadcast world that didn't make the regular newspapers. Not far away from that collection on the shelves sat World Marxist Review, the kind of magazine you didn't want in your mailbox, one that claimed to chronicle peace and progress. I couldn't digest more than a couple of pages of it, and what I did read, I couldn't comprehend. International politics and wonky policy didn't appeal to any of my senses. That was even though I was researching heady issues as part of the debate team. I remember drawing upon the library's vast resources as I prepared to debate the topic "Resolved: that a candidate's public policy is more important that his personal reputation." This came before Google, when the only computer search I had linked to the library's card catalog. Feeding a few keywords into a green-screen Wyse terminal brought up a few hits on a few books, which may or may not have the information I sought. Then I actually had to go find the books on one of three floors, organized by the a system other than the familiar Dewey Decimal System.

What did I learn from this library work? That I had a lot to learn. That very little information I was finding was useful in building my debate cases. Maybe I would score a useful chunk here or there. At least the Queen Mother was having better results as she took notes and put together what would be an epic research paper laying out a teaching plan for Hemingway, long enough to resemble a thesis, even though it wasn't. I helped her get AppleWorks -- on our trusty, reliable Apple //c -- to print it all out correctly.

Some years later, when I went to college at the University of Missouri-Columbia, I would tuck myself away in Ellis Library next to the stack of TV Guide. Whenever I needed a study break, I would reach for one of the bound archives on the shelves and see what was on the air in March of 1972.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

How About A Song That Fits The Hat?

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
When I came to Tucson in 2000, my colleagues turned me on to singing karaoke after my first weekend on the job at KOLD. After putting the 10pm Sunday night show to bed, we went down the street to the Old Father Inn for beers and amateur crooning. That would be the first of many such ventures.

I belted out Earth Wind and Fire, James Brown, AC/DC and too many other artists to remember. For some unexplained, incomprehensible, and unrecallable reason, I started wearing my tricorn hat to these outings. Paul Revere and the Raiders I wasn't, let alone Prince or even Genesis -- once known for art-rock costume theatrics. I once decided to do this Paul McCartney number because the hat lent itself so beautifully to a section of lyrics.



I could pose like Captain Morgan for at least a couple of stanzas while indulging my Peter Gabriel-esque desire to belt out some progressive rock. "Supper's Ready" is way too long for karaoke, although I could've handled it without breaking a sweat or destroying the furniture. I had to settle for the next best thing.

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Get Down, Stay Up

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
As I mentioned in a previous posting, when my family and I went to visit friends in Pittsburg, Kansas, it always seemed to rain in La Cygne, Kansas, on the way back. And sometimes, it stormed. I think half the time we came back, Kansas City would be under a Severe Thunderstorm Watch or Tornado Watch.

As a kid, I had a hard time falling asleep in severe weather. Not only did the lightning scare me -- along with the thought of a Tornado Warning in the middle of the night -- I wanted to watch what the weathercasters were saying on TV. So one Saturday night after getting home from a Kansas trip, I stayed up late, very late, past 1 in the morning to monitor the weather via TV. I didn't see any severe weather bulletins (save for a "Severe Thunderstorm Watch" icon in the lower left-hand corner of KCTV 5), but I did see this video from Kool And The Gang.



I always remember this video for its use of computer-generated effects -- a little messy, I'll grant you, but groundbreaking for 1981. I think I ended up falling asleep in front of the set, waiting for that weather update that never came.

Monday, June 19, 2017

Amadeus Rocks!

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
In the spring of 1985, a relatively-unknown Austrian rapper exploded all over the radio with a funky take on a classical genius. Requests poured in for it, and I remember hearing it several times on a St. Louis station while on an outing with my church youth group. Falco's "Rock Me Amadeus" eventually became one of the few 45-rpm singles I ever bought.

The release came with two versions: Falco's original with the German lyrics and an American edit substituting a timeline of Mozart's life.



This was the one I preferred. I also dug the video, which featured the original German and a heap of 18th Century fashion -- years before your servant would dress up in it himself.



Notice Falco rubbing his hands together about 45 seconds into the above video. I incorporated that same hand gesture into a church play before I sat down on a throne as King Darius. I don't know if anybody got the reference.

Falco represented white rap at its whitest and classiest. To me, he didn't culturally appropriate anything as much as adapt it for a different audience and different subject matter, blending it with mainstream rock and white soul. Weeks after "Rock Me Amadeus" rocketed to number one, he got a follow-up onto the charts, "Vienna Calling." This time, he had no English version. It played on the radio in the full German, cracking the top 20 in the summer of 1985. He never had another big hit in America, although he kept going for years before dying of injuries from a drug-influenced car wreck in 1998.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

Changing Times And Changing Towns

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
A few days or so after I moved to Tucson in 1999, and with some time on my hands before I started my new job, I was going through the alt.music.genesis Usenet group (remember Usenet?) and ran across a posting from someone who had come across several Genesis outtakes and b-sides compiled onto a CD. He offered to share it with anybody who wanted a copy, and I quickly responded, offering him to pay for postage and media. Remember, posting and downloading of music had not yet come into fashion.

Not long after, I got a CD with about a dozen tracks I had never heard before. I fancied it a brand new Genesis album after the disappointment of ...Calling All Stations..., in which Mike Rutherford and Tony Banks tried to replace the departing Phil Collins with new singer Ray Wilson and some help from session drummers. The album bombed, and deservedly so. Genesis without Phil just wasn't Genesis, even though I felt the album had some promising tracks. This one, "7/8," was an instrumental left off the album but tacked onto the CD single of "Shipwrecked."



I'm not sure if the title was a working one or not, but it refers to the song's time signature. Genesis did a lot of great instrumentals, and I consider this one of their best. It starts small, rises, envelops into a wall of sound and falls back into a comfortable refrain. I can remember this song going through my head many mornings at KOLD during the week, when I served on associate producer duty, helping other producers write. This song reminds me of that respite I had from the grind of line-producing two shows every weekday. I still had to do that, but now I was only doing that on weekends.

Several weeks later, I noticed the $5 check I had sent to my musical benefactor hadn't been cashed. I emailed him back, and he told me that he had gotten it, but it ended up forgotten on his car dashboard. He didn't mind: "Merry Christmas!" he wrote back.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Raining All Over My Heart

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
Every time I hear Brook Benton's "Rainy Night In Georgia," I think back to August 1994 and a lonely drive from Harlingen back to McAllen after seeing my mother off on a flight back to St. Louis. This song came over the radio of my battered Chevy Celebrity.



Benton sings about it "raining all over the world," and I could feel it. I had just arrived in the Rio Grande Valley to start my first television job, and I had been living in motel rooms for the past couple of days with the Queen Mother as we looked together for apartments. And then, while we were watching TV in an aging room in Weslaco, we got the stunning news that my Grandma Francis had died. This heaped an anvil onto my emotional weight, as I was already tired of driving and looking for apartments only to find them in seedy neighborhoods, not open for viewing, or not available.

Now we had to decide whether I should go back home to be part of the funeral. After discussions with Mom and Dad, we agreed that I should get myself settled in my new community and get to work. Grandma would've wanted it that way. Grandpa Francis understood completely. Mom moved up her flight rather than staying an extra day. And now, in the car, I heard Benton singing on KSOX-FM in Raymondville, an oldies station that became one of only two I liked in the Valley. We had no rock station or all-news radio to divert my mind from my sadness and feelings of being a displaced person, a foreigner in a strange land without a home.

I would somehow pull myself together and get the apartment, which wouldn't be ready for 30 days. The manager at the complex gave me a lead on temporary quarters, and so I rented a Winter Texan's trailer for a month. And then I called my new boss and said I was ready for work.

Friday, June 16, 2017

Feeling Hawkish

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
A classical track or two has made it onto my devices. This one is both a wonderful classical piece and a chunk of a classic movie score: Erich Wolfgang Korngold's The Sea Hawk.



It sounds even better in this version than it does in the original film. This is how Hollywood movie music used to sound: big and majestic and powerful. You don't hear it like this anymore. Maybe from John Williams or Danny Elfman you do, but how many movie scores burn themselves into your head?

We had the soundtrack CD laying around the studio when I worked at KBIA-FM in my University of Missouri years. Occasionally, on our in-depth news program "Between The Lines," we would pop it in and play it for bumps between reports. It shook things up from the jazz cues we usually pumped out. It has energy, and you need to be pumped up when you're anchoring a hectic half-hour radio show and watching the board operator behind the glass hurriedly load up reel-to-reel tapes and cartridge machines. Sometimes the technology -- and the operator -- would not work as expected.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Nose, Meet Grindstone

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
The news business can be draining on multiple levels: physically, emotionally, intellectually. And in those times where more is demanded from less, time is too short and the list is too long, my brain starts playing this early classic from Steely Dan:



The lyrics are about an extramarital affair, but it's the hook that resonates:

I'm a fool to do your dirty work, oh yeah.
I don't want to do your dirty work, no more.


This song was featured in the opening minutes of American Hustle, when a key character tells another he has to clean up the messes of another. I've had to do that a few times -- mostly outside of work, fortunately. And yet, for all the times I didn't want to do the job, I did it. I don't know if that makes me foolish or wise... but I do know it has kept me employed.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Ain't A Party If Nobody's Dancin'

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
I remember hearing Rufus & Chaka Khan's "Ain't Nobody" at a friend's Christmas party a decade ago. Or was it Halloween? I don't remember, and seeing as how the song came out in 1984, I can't figure out how I missed hearing it for the first time.



This song was featured in the dance flick Breakin', and my younger brother had the soundtrack -- and the moves. Your servant was in full geek mode at this time, meaning the only moves I had were shifting bits around in my computer's memory, although I bet you if somebody had introduced me to Scottish or English Country Dance at this time -- outside of school -- I might have let it fly.

The song has enough funk, in my opinion, to escape an expiration date. It fit the break-dance craze, but it's not married to it. Once I acquired this for my device, I must've looped it at least 20 times. I've done that with a lot of songs: play them over and over again until my brain wears out on them and ejects the melody so I don't keep thinking about it. Torture? Only if somebody's waterboarding you.

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Give Me Just A Little More Space

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
Driving away from the Rio Grande Valley in December 1999, I felt liberated and free. A new, exciting job lie ahead in Tucson. And on the radio, the Chairmen of the Board sang about my need for release.



Before my eyes, as I rolled through small town after small town on the way to connect with I-10 south of San Antonio, I saw signs of life as the sun rose on a foggy Saturday morning. Restaurants opened, stores started opening, and people were picking back up on the holiday spirit and sprint. Christmas was the furthest thing from my mind at that moment, even though I was getting my biggest gift right now.

"Give me just a little more time, and my love will surely grow."

I needed time and space. I needed to decompress from what had been a grueling and demoralizing year in a job with a tempermental boss. I needed to get back to other things in life other than work. A road trip -- even though it wasn't a vacation -- fit my needs exactly at this moment. This was going to be an adventure, no matter what. My colleagues had given me an emergency road kit and some snacks. I could only hope the Celebrity was up to it. It had made it from St. Louis to McAllen. I had it checked out and fixed up before the trip. What it lacked in style and a working tape deck, it compensated for with an engine built like a tank.

It powered me through Texas, New Mexico and into Arizona the next day. Before I started work, I had time to enjoy the beautiful new scenery of my new hometown. I would be working and on vacation at the same time. I would be in a desert Oasis. I would have more time to just... breathe.

Monday, June 12, 2017

Break The News To Me Gently

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
One year ago on this day, like many of you, I woke up to learn of a heart-wrenching tragedy: 49 people dead inside an Orlando nightclub at the hands of a gunman. For once, I was glad I was on vacation and not in the newsroom. I could turn it off when things got too emotionally heavy.

Just the night before, I had been at a Scottish dancing ball, reuniting with dancing friends in the Los Angeles area. After fun and frolic, I saw a first alert on my phone about a nightclub shooting in Florida, one considerably tamer than what was about to come. That same phone had served up a ditty from Brenda Lee on the drive back to my parents' house in Upland.



I had a long, sad drive back home to Tucson as the news unfolded all of Sunday morning into the afternoon. The breaking news had broken as gently to me as possible given the enormity of the tragedy. I didn't have to write scripts on it or plow through soundbites of the mourning and devastation. I just had to think about the aftermath and how all of us as a nation would be dealing with it, coming back to the same old questions about guns and violence and missed clues.

A month later, a man would open fire on police in Dallas. Then Baton Rouge would come under the crosshairs. We would jump from tragedy to tragedy in the newsroom, sorrow to sorrow, pain to pain.

I kept thinking, "I am so ready for the Christmas season, when people know how to be kind to one another. Or least, they remember how."

Sunday, June 11, 2017

When They Invade, They'll Go For The Pretty Ones First

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
Donald Fagen's "Kamakiriad," a science-fiction inspired concept album released in 1993, is not a Steely Dan album -- but it might as well be. Fagen re-teamed with Walter Becker to record it, and they both toured it. I would've never heard a note of this album if it had not been for KFXB/WFXB in St. Louis -- "The Fox" -- which regularly played cuts, including this one about an alien invasion of beautiful women.



I later got the entire CD through the BMG Music Club, something I subscribed to through one of those offers in magazines saying, "Get 8 albums for 1 cent, with nothing more to buy, ever!" BMG usually had older, less popular music than Columbia House's similar club, but the terms were less restrictive.



I liked Fagen's album for its adventurous lyrics and storyline, the same qualities that attracted me to Genesis years earlier. Although I don't think it's as good as Steely Dan's group work, "Tomorrow's Girls" worked its way into my devices. The rest of the songs are still mostly in my memory.

Saturday, June 10, 2017

You'll Never Find Another Station Like This

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
During my childhood in Kansas City in the early 1980's, I loved to see what distant stations I could pull in on my bedroom TV. When the weather conditions were right, mainly during thunderstorms, I could get stations from hundreds of miles away. One late summer Sunday night, I remember picking up "Solid Gold" on KOLN-KGIN in Lincoln-Grand Island, Nebraska, and Lou Rawls was singing this tune.



"Solid Gold" was appointment viewing for me. I used to catch it on KQTV in St. Joseph -- another station pulled in from afar -- Saturday nights at 10:30. It featured the latest hits and the week's top ten countdown (different from the one on "American Top 40," skewing more towards Adult Contemporary radio airplay). I even got my Grandmother Lawson interested it at one point when she was babysitting my brother and I over at their house, and "Saturday Night Live" was running a bit too raw for her tastes.

"See, Orton," she said to my grandfather, "you can keep up on all your hits."

I scratched my head as to why that one Nebraska station needed to be on two different channels, 10 and 11. A little more than a decade later, I would be driving through that part of Nebraska on my way to an interview for what might have been my first TV job, and I would be very familiar with this part of south-central Nebraska and its overlapping TV stations and unusual channel configurations, a product of geography, demographics, financial considerations and efficiency.

Friday, June 9, 2017

Long Live The King!

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
If you ask me what's on my music players, I will tell you, "About one-third classic and mainstream rock and pop, one-third classic soul and R&B, and one-third wildcard, which can be anything I like." That includes things like TV show themes... and songs from ABC's "Schoolhouse Rock" like this one.



I put this song in my iPad Nano at least a couple of years before the re-enacting bug bit me. It has an addictive melody written by Lynne Ahrens (who would later go on to compose Broadway shows like "Ragtime"), and even though the lyrics oversimplify the facts, they do plug into the patriot paradigm of the colonists saying it was time to break from the mother country -- something my college American History teacher taught without the earworm melodies.

I have the challenge of explaining to young people why they should care about their heritage, and sadly, "Schoolhouse Rock" isn't on the air anymore in a supporting role. I learned the preamble to the U.S. Constitution from another of its history songs, which came in handy when I had to put it down on paper for a test.



To this day, I hear that people are still learning this and singing it to themselves if they have to pass a preamble test.

Thursday, June 8, 2017

A Delayed Gift

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
In January of 1992, I'm about to start the second half of my Sophomore year in college at the University of Missouri. After Christmas break, I've returned to my dorm in a snow-caked Columbia, Missouri. After unpacking and re-setting for the upcoming semester, I finally remember to check my mailbox. I haven't forwarded anything during the last month I've been away, so a pile of correspondence is waiting for me, including an Elton John hits CD from the BMG music club. I'd forgotten I'd ordered it before the holidays. But now it was here, and I put it into the stereo. Among the songs is this one, which sounds unlike any Elton song I've heard.



Elton barely plays piano on this disco-infused number. He didn't even write it. Neither did his longtime partner, Bernie Taupin. But I remember the bouncy beat giving life during the dead of winter, grey and cold. I would soon start another round of classes, and this was a nice surprise to find before having to hit the books again.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Midnight Soul

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
As a kid, the Francis clan used to drive from Kansas City to the small southeast Kansas town of Pittsburg to visit friends in weekend adventures that could last well into the night, leading to a late-night Saturday drive back home. I remember two things about these trips: 1) It always used to rain around La Cygne, Kansas, and 2) This 1981 song from Champaign on the radio, which I first heard in its entirety during one of those return trips.



I've learned this song had incredible staying power in the Billboard Hot 100, remaining on the chart for nearly six months before peaking at #12. It stayed in my head for considerably longer.

Something about the long stretch of Highway 69 in Kansas lent itself particularly well to soul ballads, although I'm not sure why. And it seems during the early 80's, quite a few of them hit the pop charts and would eventually make their way into my iPad and smartphone. Great road music never dies.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

No, Not The Same Mistakes Again

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
As a newscast producer, getting a ratings report is like getting your report card. In the winter of 1995, I think I've done well in my first months as weekend producer at KRGV in Weslaco, Texas. Then the ratings book comes in and I'm puzzled by the numbers.

"We didn't do as well as we hoped," my boss, the incomparable Rick Diaz says from behind the desk. We're getting beat by the only competition in town one channel down. It's a hairline victory or a tie in all newscasts on Saturday and Sunday, but I'm still disappointed, and I'm pretty nervous. We should be killing it.

Jenny, my mentor and executive producer tries to console me. "You're shaking all over," she says. "You can't see this and say, 'I'm a failure.'"

"No, No," Mr. D says. "Look here, you doubled your lead-in."

"You're taking it all too hard," Jenny says.

I think of the lyrics from that song by Genesis, "Taking It All Too Hard."



No, not this confused again
No, not the same mistakes again
You're taking it all too heart
You're taking it all too hard


This has been one of my all-time favourite songs by Genesis, one that got played a lot on KUDL in Kansas City, even though it just missed making the top 40.

The song is about love gone wrong, not newscast producing and ratings gone wrong, but it's what I'm thinking about in that moment in the boss' office. I needed a comeback.

I got it in the next ratings period -- a vast improvement. Later, my 10pm Sunday newscast would end up beating the competition by 10 points. Vindication at last.

Monday, June 5, 2017

The Low Spark Of Lightning Over Lunch

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
On a bright day in July, 2010, I'm sitting inside one of my favorite pizza joints in Flagstaff -- Alpine Pizza, when a reminder of the summer monsoon comes rolling in. This is the time of the year you can nearly set your watch by when thunderstorms are forming. It's high noon, and I can see the dark clouds over the mountains dimming the skies around us.

On the jukebox, Traffic's trippy "The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys" floats into the air.



It fits my mood perfectly as I munch down my cheese-and-sausage pie -- introspective, drawn-out and melodic. I'm in no particular rush on this day, one day before the Highland Games, exploring downtown Flagstaff and the various shops, chilling out in the mountain air before kilting up tomorrow. I would love it to rain, but the skies don't want to do much. The mountains are getting socked. We're getting what's left over.



As long as the storms don't drown me while I'm driving, I'm fine with it. I know better than to go through high water. I've watched too many people try to do that on the news. It's not really the monsoon until an idiot thinks they can muscle through a wash.

The storm moves off and avoids downtown. We will get no deluge on this day. But it's a lot cooler, a lot less humid, and I'm ready to get back out into the high country once more.

Sunday, June 4, 2017

The Drive Home

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
Some of you may remember a radio format called "Mellow Rock" that popped up in the late 1980's and survived into the mid-1990's. Many stations segued from that into AAA (Adult Album Alternative), a variant of the original. When it came to St. Louis as "The Fox," it quickly earned a car-radio dial button on my battered Chevy Celebrity.

The Fox touted "Quality rock for St. Louis," but I remember it mostly played 70's hits, like "Jackie Blue" by the Ozark Mountain Daredevils.



I clearly remember hearing this song on a trip home from college in Columbia, Missouri, in the middle of the day, travelling down a sparse stretch of I-70. If there was ever a great road song, this was it.



Two hours to home, with maybe one stop for gas along the way in Kingdom City, home of Ozarkland and the famous McStop (as it was called in 1993).



Mid-Missouri reminds you what green looks like as you cruise through the solitude of farm country and gently rolling hills. Someday, I'll drive it again on a visit back there.

I miss home.

I don't miss the snow, but I miss home.

Saturday, June 3, 2017

And The Livin' Is Easy

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
When my Royal Father first got a CD player in the mid-1980's, a compilation titled "Jazz Like You've Never Heard It Before" was one of his first discs. But I think I ended up playing more than he did, as I would put it on late at night in his upstairs study. I wore headphones and typed out sophisticated fiction (or a few messages on bulletin board systems) on the Macintosh while listening to sophisticated music.

My favorite track on this disc was this classic by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong:



One of these days, I would love to sing this for karaoke, if I can somehow do Armstrong's part in a way that won't have people accusing your servant of racism or cultural appropriation. Perhaps if Princess Sherri sang Ella Fitzgerald's part, we'd have something.

Anyway, I thought about this song once again after watching this amazing segment from America's Got Talent:



Ventriloquism is hardly easy livin', but this young girl makes it look so beautiful.

Friday, June 2, 2017

Stepping Out In My Imagination

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
The year is approximately 1982. I have one my father's air-navigational maps spread out on my bed in the fading light of a winter day. Besides the orange sun, the only other light in the room is coming from the dial lamps on a Radio Shack Patrolman-9 radio, tuned to an FM station and playing Joe Jackson's "Steppin' Out."



While he sings about a night on the town, I'm taking an imaginary trip in the air over this map, perusing the lines and topography. I'm thinking of looking down from the plane to everything on the ground. I'm looking at the boxes indicating AM radio stations that can be used as navigational aides. I'm scanning the markings for obstructions -- some with high-intensity flashers. Then I look outside.

From the bedroom windows of home on East 77th Street in Kansas City, I can see at least five blinking TV or radio towers. It's hypnotizing and fascinating for a child interested in broadcasting. With the help of my father, I know who's transmitting from where. I imagine what it must be like to fly over those transmitters at night. I vaguely recall it on a plane coming back from Atlanta in 1978 -- those towers looked like push-pins to my young mind.

I wished I could've flown more places for vacation as a kid. It would've beat sitting in the back of a car for most of two days. The Royal Parents told your young servant that driving was a way to see more of the country -- the same explanation offered by Clark Griswald, by the way. In reality, I think it was code for saying, "Honey, for what it costs to fly, I would have to pawn you and your brother to afford a coach seat."

Thursday, June 1, 2017

I'm Not In Love (And I'm Not Strange, Either)

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.
This month on "30/30," I'm taking you through some of the songs in my smartphone and iPad playlists and why they're there. Sometimes, a tune is more than just catchy -- it's a snapshot of a time and place in my life.

The opening bars of 10cc's "I'm Not In Love" filled the back of the family car early on a Sunday morning when we were on our way to church, an ethereal prelude to worship, if anything.



"Your father always has it on some strange station," Mom commented, fiddling with the dial and using the prefix for one of many micro-lectures about Dad. Actually, it wasn't a strange station at all: it was KUDL in Kansas City, which referred to itself in the early-to-mid 1980's as "Cuddle" for its mix of soft favorites.



At this time in my childhood, I hadn't graduated to the album-oriented rock (AOR) or current-hit radio (CHR) formats yet, so I spent a lot of time fiddling around the dial among KUDL, KLSI ("Classy 93") and whatever else sounded good at the time. Kansas City had a diverse FM dial back then: classic and current rock on KCFX ("The Fox") and KYYS ("KY-102"), classical on KXTR, country and western on KCMO (KC-95), CHR on 104.3 ("Q104") and KZZT ("ZZ99"), and easy-listening elevator music on KMBR ("Stereo 100"). With the help of an antenna on my bedroom stereo, I could also pull in stations from Lawrence, Kansas and Harrisonville, Missouri.

Over on AM, you had music by day and talk by night on KMBZ (980), home to two of my favorite DJ's: Curt "Mother" Merz (a former pro football player turned DJ), and Johnny Dolan. KCMO (810) delivered news and talk round the clock. A little further to the left of the dial, WHB (710) served up 50's, 60's, and 70's oldies and quickly became the go-to station for my parents. We listened to the "Breakfast Flakes" morning show every weekday when Mom drove my brother and I to school. Most of my knowledge of classic rock and roll came from constant listening in the car.

But back to 10cc -- that song seemed so perfect for that moment of the morning and the haze of my brain, not awake all the way as Mom and Dad drug us to church and susceptible to ethereal influence with its painstakingly multi-tracked chorale of voices. It still remains one of my favorite pop songs for that.

Back then, if other kids knew what I was listening to, it would have been more ammunition in their bullying arsenal. Imagine my vindication when the same opening bars that wafted from KUDL back then wound up opening Guardians Of The Galaxy. Ah, vindication.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Where The News Comes First

My biggest problem with cable news channels isn't bias or Bill O'Reilly (who got canned just hours before this post). The problem is there's hardly any news in cable news. The worst offender, unfortunately, is the network that created the genre: CNN.

As I work through the day, CNN plays on a TV next to my desk. I want to see what they're covering. Mostly, though, the cable news network is the cable talking-heads network. A little bit of reporting bookends a lot of talking. Anchors and pundits -- sometimes four or five at a time -- box the screen like a talking yearbook, discussing the news so we don't have to do it ourselves. Meanwhile, also playing on my desk, is CNN's video wire service for its contributing stations. It's filled with stories from around the country and the world that the network distributes but doesn't show itself. I'm talking about the other news that goes on outside Washington, New York and Los Angeles. These are stories reported by reporters, not merely talked about by an anchor and four pundits.

Occasionally, CNN will run a quick "Top Stories" update with a few quick lines about some other news over video before getting back to the boxes. That doesn't cut it. CNN's sister network HLN (which once used to be called "Headline News") doesn't either, having mostly become a dumping ground for "Forensic Files" reruns. I loved the days when this channel was a non-stop news wheel, all news, all the time like KNX radio in Los Angeles or WINS in New York City. When I worked weekends in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas, Headline News was my morning national briefing. I'd turn it on and get up to speed.

Fox News? MSNBC? Forget it. These networks were not built on news. Fox News was built on the news/talk radio model, but mostly on talk. MSNBC was originally designed as a convergence of internet and television -- once it got away from that, it ran off the rails. Ted Turner designed CNN to make news the star, but instead it has tried to make stars out of anchors like Anderson Cooper, Wolf Blitzer and Don Lemon. I've enjoyed some of their documentary series like "The 60's" and "The 70's," but that's not their bread and butter.

If someone came to me and asked, "Christopher, we'd like you to put together a cable news network," I have a plan in mind.

First, we will not hire star anchors. We will make news the star again. We will line up a network of stations across the country, just like CNN has done, and we will use this material. You will hear the latest gunk out of Washington, but you will also hear about the court battles over executions in Arkansas, the students training as firefighters in Wisconsin, the prom queen in Texas who gave her sash away to a friend, or the hero in a kilt in Las Vegas. Have you looked at the front page of the Drudge Report lately? It has a wider selection of news on one page than most cable news has in one hour.

Next, when we focus on breaking news, rather than trying to report it from far away, we're going to let local stations do it with their people and their insight. We'll grab onto their special reports, webcasts or facebook live feeds and take them to air. They know their communities. We don't.

We'll start you off in the morning with a lightning round of stories and eye-openers to get you out the door. We'll go into our afternoon news wheel, around the world every 30 minutes, so you can check in and get on with your life.

I want to do a "breaking-news only" type show somewhere during the afternoon, where we show you the video and stories coming in raw and live.

We'll give you a big one-hour, network-type newscast in prime, with plenty of time for our correspondents to report and gather sound and reaction -- without pundit interviews.

Elsewhere in prime, we can dive deeper into the day's big story. Here is where I'll allow for a bit of analysis and roundtabling. But I want it more like Nightline when Ted Koppel helmed the wheel, dealing with only one, maybe two people at a time.

After prime, we'll update the top stories of the day again, rapid-fire, before you go to bed. For you insomniac news junkies, we'll have some fun. We'll do a show called "Up All Night," where we mix news of the day that just happened with some weird things like ABC's "World News Now" once did. We'll have a segment called "The News In..." where we'll put newscasts from different cities on the air. We'll run news flashbacks to stories that aired several years ago (with help from archive services and hopefully, the networks). We'll look at stories we expect to see in the day ahead. We'll read the morning paper headlines as the roll off the presses. We'll have some cool moments with entertainment news. But we'll still focus on news.

I'd like to do a different kind of entertainment news show, one like Entertainment Tonight used to be in its early days, a hard-news show that just happened to focus on the entertainment industry. Think of it as Variety or Deadline.com on TV. I want a show that deals with the business end along with the artistic end. I would love to get Nikki Finke reporting for us.

I want to partner up with international networks like CNN used to do with "World Report." Use international correspondents to report their stories from their countries. (Obviously, government slants become a concern here, but we'll advise people of this.)

I'd love to do an hour on Saturday mornings devoted to computer and tech news, stuff for hardcore nerds. Let's add some Slashdot flavor in.

News for kids? I would love to do a partnership with classrooms inspired by "Channel One" but more like CBS News' "In The News" segments from the 1970's and 80's.

You notice I didn't mention sports? That's because we'll treat big sports stories as news stories, working them in around other news. We don't need to have an all-sports show. ESPN does this better than we could ever do.

That's the rough outline. Dare to put me in charge?

Monday, April 17, 2017

With A Friend Like This...

Last month, I told you how a Facebook "friend" went on a purge, unfriending anybody who was not congruent with her political leanings. I told you how I had written back to her, saying I was still her friend and apologizing for any harm or hurt feelings on your servant's part. I didn't hear back from her.

Today, I sent this person a private message wishing her a Happy Birthday (albeit one day late) as I could not post on her page anymore -- as I do to send birthday wishes to all my facebook friends, with a virtual courtly bow thrown in. Here's how that message exchange went:

My Dearest Lady [Redacted],

A Belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you! I still wonder why you have unfriended me -- and it has left your servant more than a bit sad. I apologize if I have hurt or offended you. I love all my Dancing Friends, and I would be horrified to know I have hurt someone. I am still your friend, no matter what.

May GOD Bless You, My Lady!
With a Bow To You From Afar,
Laird Christopher
Her reply came within minutes, hastily typed:

Every time I post about the HORRIBLE NIGHTMARE of the Trump administration, i blame voters like you. YOu and all those who refused to vote for Hilary Clinton (who I didn't "like" either) are responsible for our nation sliding into the abyss. Please don't contact me again.
The iciness of the response floored me.

I quickly wrote back, in sadness:

Dearest Lady [Redacted], I am sorry you feel that way. I would have hoped we could be friends in spite of our differences (which may not be that different at all.) I will respect your wishes... with regrets. --YHS, CF

This is a lady I have danced with, a lady who put politics aside in the historic ballroom, and a person whom I thought had the temperament and enlightenment to carry some of that good nature forward into the present. "More fool me," as Phil Collins once sang. Apparently her good nature is only reserved for people who share her same beliefs, and I didn't know that until she discovered I didn't share all of them.

The bitterness and hate directed at others over the last election cycle continues to depress me. This person would rather be spiteful towards me for the way I voted rather than be grateful for the birthday wishes, which she didn't even acknowledge.

Last week, during Bible study with my church friends, one of them told me he hardly trusts anybody anymore because he has been let down by so many people.

"But wait a minute," I piped up, "Isn't that against GOD's nature? I mean, HE says we're to encourage each other day after day (Hebrews 10:24) and like iron sharpens iron man sharpens man (Proverbs 27:17)."

"You're right, Christopher," he nodded. "You're right."

As I said in the previous post, I don't give up on my Facebook friends because GOD doesn't give up on us. If Facebook is going to call connected people "friends," I am going to treat people like friends. That term needs to mean what it says. And remember, this person was not some obtuse collection of bits on a screen attached to a profile person. This person was a lady I had met in real life and had shared in fellowship. I gather I will see her again in Williamsburg next year. She has always treated me kindly on the dance floor.

And one year ago, when I posted on Facebook about leading a historic ball for a Christian school here in Tucson, she left me this comment:

You have done a wonderful thing! Just know you touched many lives and some will remember it forever!

Apparently, none of that matters now.

Friday, March 24, 2017

Better Living Through Self-Censorship

I know some of you in Facebookland have gone down your friends list doing an ideological purge. You have unfriended anybody who is either too liberal or too conservative for you -- or not liberal or conservative enough. You did this to people you called your friends.

I hope you're satisfied. I hope you've sanitized your feeds to your liking, especially now that one major contentious political standoff has ended, and you won't have to move the finger a wee bit more to scroll through those friends so inconveniently incongruent to your ideology.

Facebook says it is working on a way to filter out fake news. I think it needs to work on filtering fake friendships -- no, not those scam artists who are cloning or falsifying accounts, but those people who say they are friends until the moment they decide they can't separate your humanity from your party affiliation. A lot of people have found themselves unfriended over the past year as politics turned volcanic. Some of these people deserved it for being crude, callous creatures to their so-called "friends." Some people just got caught in the crossfire.

A certain lady decided she was going to purge her facebook rolls of all Republicans, and I found myself unfriended. I don't even consider myself Republican. Officially, I'm not. I had only gotten into a brief debate with this person once over Russian hacking and the election. I had also posted -- in the spirit of sharing some eloquent words versus gunk -- part of a speech by then-candidate John F. Kennedy on the role of his Catholic faith in his leadership and how he wanted to be president for all of America, not just Catholic America.

I can't understand why those words set this lady off. Perhaps it was just bad timing, coming in January, when the debate over you-know-who's travel restrictions were reaching their emotional apex. She vented a little, but then she stepped aside. Two months later, I was off her list with no explanation, no warning, not even a good-bye note.

If it had been a lot of other people on my list, I would've shrugged it off. But I couldn't with this lady. She's one of my dancing friends from Virginia.

If you haven't heard me say this before, I give special value to my friends who share my love of history and dancing. They stand apart from the ugliness of this world. They build other people up -- including your servant. I danced with this lady in Virginia, and I had not the slightest hint anything was wrong, and this was two months after that dander-raising post, which I am choosing not to embed here because I do not want to disclose any names.

But I will disclose what I wrote to my dancing friend, feeling dumbstruck and hurt.

Dearest Lady [redacted],

Your servant was quite shocked to see you had unfriended me. I realize you are trying to rid yourself of toxicity online -- which a lot of people are doing nowadays -- but I honestly did not think your servant fit into that category. If I have insulted you, I apologize. If I have made you angry, I apologize. I want to be your friend -- because I love my dancing friends, and I value them highly.

Why? Because they hold themselves to standards of behaviour we don't see all that much anymore. I love that the people I know who do 18th Century English (and Scottish) Country dance can put all of their cares from the current life and times aside and enjoy the merriment of the ballroom. I have treasured the dances I have shared with you, and I do not want that to end.

You also have to know I feel this way because I was bullied as a child, and square dancing in school was especially tough. The young ladies did not want to be my partner. The young gents (if you could call them that) just laughed. So when I rediscovered English Country Dance a decade ago, and when ladies bowed and curtsied to your servant, it changed my life immeasurably... and put me back on the road to GOD. At last, I had discovered the closest thing -- for me -- to Heaven on Earth.

I don't expect you to understand all of this. And I'm far from perfect. But when somebody unfriends me, it hurts. I see my facebook friends as more than just a couple of clicks and a profile -- because that's the way it should be. I have to wonder, what went wrong? What did I do? What did I NOT do?

Be Blessed, My Lady -- and whether you want to friend me or not -- I will still be your friend. I Love My Dancing Friends!

Your Humble Servant And Friend,
Lord Christopher of Dunans


As of this posting, I have not heard back from her, even though I know she read the note. I tried friending her again. For all I know, she is either ignoring me or blocking me for reasons she will not disclose.

This has pained your servant deeply, and I can't understand why. Come on, I keep reasoning with myself, we are talking about one friend out of oodles on the list. Why is this such a big deal? After considerable wracking of my brain, I think I found the explanation in a Biblical parable.

JESUS talks about the lost sheep in Luke 15:4-7 (NIV): "Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent."

That's followed by the parable of the lost coin and the famous one about the prodigal son. The message, in part, is that GOD doesn't give up on the people HE loves. Why should we give up on the people we love, especially if we want to live up to GOD's expectations for us?

I don't give up on my Facebook friends. I count nearly 600 of them on my list right now, and I have not unfriended anybody since I joined the social network about a decade ago. I refuse to go through and purge, because as I said to my unfriended friend, you're more than just a profile. I labour to treat my Facebook friends as if they were standing in front of me. This is in line with George Washington's first Rule of Civility: "Every Action done in Company, ought to be with Some Sign of Respect, to those that are Present." Not only is that rule easy for your servant to remember, it beats having to fuss with Facebook's privacy settings. Further, if I am going to live as a light for GOD, I can't turn it off on social media.

Last year, I began keeping a quarantine list to restrict a limited number of people from seeing certain political posts I thought might ruffle their feathers. It has worked very well, despite a few extra steps involved in the process. Lately, though, I've used it less and less. I just grew tired of posting an opinion and worrying about somebody deciding to cut me to pieces.

I lost even more of my appetite for political posts after another trip -- and another ball -- in Williamsburg.

(In case you're trying to connect dots -- no, none of the ladies you see here are the ones who unfriended me.)











After such a blessed experience expressed in these postings, I couldn't bring myself to discuss politics, at least not on one of my own posts, and rarely on anybody else's. After drawing closer to GOD and feeling closer to Heaven, why tarnish such beauty by going back to the swamp -- even if that flies in the face of the freedom of speech we are given?


This is not the way it is supposed to be. We can not be a nation of tolerance and freedom if self-censorship is the only reliable way to promote peace among us. But given the junk we see online and the off-the-chart response to it, we are running out of options. Your servant is running out of energy to deal with online drama, and I would rather just scroll on.

Be Blessed, My Friends!

This post has been updated with additional thoughts.

Monday, January 30, 2017

The Word Is OVER

This series is inspired by the "Words From
Unity" public service announcements
that ran on television (particularly in
Kansas City) in the 1970's and 80's.
The following originally ran in a Facebook posting on April 13, 2014. I had Easter in mind at the time. But given current events and current attitudes, I feel this deserves to be the closing word.

Something to think about as we enter Holy Week -- so many people around us are trying to tell us it's over. America is over. Our freedoms are over. The economy is over. Our morals are over. Our families are over. Etc, etc, etc.

I'm over people telling me it's over. It's because they're living on a tangent of reality that's keeping them them from seeing what's NOT over. And they would notice it if they just looked up and saw it -- honestly.

GOD is a big-picture GOD. HE sees the beginning and the end, and everything between. We, however, tend to get stuck in tunnel vision, and instead of seeing everything, we will see our narrow view -- and more often, we see how rotten it is.

Is it any wonder then, when GOD sent HIS SON to us, those people who encountered HIM couldn't break out of their plane? Nahhh... can't be THE SAVIOR. THE SAVIOR wouldn't do that, wouldn't say that, wouldn't teach that. C'mon. That's not HIM. The real savior is coming to get rid of Romans, taxes, people we don't like... etc., etc., etc.

It's fascinating to me how people continue to put GOD on their side instead of getting on GOD's side, or making JESUS into their image instead of trying to be more like HIM. Or they create gods of their own: money, sex, politics -- especially politics. Liberalism and conservatism are their own religions, but that's another vent.

So what's really over? Our fear of the future, if we're right with GOD and living for HIM through accepting CHRIST. Remember, this world is not our final destination, no matter how "over" people tell you that it is. And if you look it over, honestly, you'll find where GOD is a part of it. Over here. Over there.

And in spite of us being all over ourselves and the messes we've made, GOD still gives us the chance to serve HIM over and over again and help do HIS work -- which HE didn't have to do. HE is GOD, after all. HE didn't have to send HIS SON over to us. But HE did.

So now, are things really over? Or are you just believing people who say it is rather than GOD, who tells you they aren't? (Jeremiah 29:11).

Over to you...

Sunday, January 29, 2017

The Word Is AFFECTATIONS

This series is inspired by the "Words From
Unity" public service announcements
that ran on television (particularly in
Kansas City) in the 1970's and 80's.
"Let me give you my thoughts on affectations," said a friend of mine as he taught a class on 18th Century English dance. He stated flatly and matter-of-factly that various showy displays of the hands -- such as raising a free hand high during a hands-across figure -- were not fashionable. Instead of portraying courtly demeanor, they would bring about awkward reaction from others. Ridicule was not out of the question. I got a similar message from books on 18th Century dance, which dissuaded deep bows among gentlemen and the spreading of skirts among ladies when curtsying. "Oh just take all the joy out of it," I muttered.

I am one of those people who likes deep bows and encourages courtly curtseys. I love holding a free hand high every so often or shouting "Huzzah!" during a circle-round. I likely break the rules the English dancing masters taught, and then I break them again when I teach Colonial dancing to young people and subtly encourage them to embrace their inner regality. They're not wearing powdered wigs, knee breeches, tricorns or polonaise gowns, but I can at least help put their minds in the right frame with mannered and yet festive gestures.

Still, I look at how I danced during my first Williamsburg ball, and I have to note my gestures are exaggerated.



I'm all in the dance and then some. I need to refine my manners. Still, I was able to get some ladies to follow my lead with free hands high during at least a couple of dances. I have to be thankful for small victories.

One friend has also told me not to bow my head as well as my body when giving honours. I end up doing it anyway half the time because.... well, it's reverent. I always thought it unfair the ladies were taught to bow their heads or cast their eyes down when curtsying while the gentlemen were not expected to do the same. I also see myself as giving dual reverence, not only to my partner but to THE LORD OF THE DANCE. The other ladies don't mind.

"I did not know I was a queen!" one of them said to me at a dance. "Thank you, my subject!"

I say if you can be regal, be regal. It's the closest thing you'll ever get to living in a fairy tale or royal court. Or Pride & Prejudice.

Saturday, January 28, 2017

The Word Is DISPERFECT

This series is inspired by the "Words From
Unity" public service announcements
that ran on television (particularly in
Kansas City) in the 1970's and 80's.
Webster's Dictionary does not list "disperfect" as a word, but my Royal Father does. I heard him use it in the early 1980's, and my family was in the car on the way to a hotel in St. Louis for a weekend stay. Dad was having trouble finding the right turn-off to get to the place. "The directions they have given me have been, so far, disperfect."

It's not technically a word, but it should be. "Disperfect" represents those times when everything is working except for that one small thing that doesn't. Disperfect disses on perfect. Often, it represents a situation more than just flawed or fateful; it describes an abnormality we did not think we would have to account for or one small oversight on somebody else's part that throws everything out of whack.

Some examples of disperfect situations:

  • A cupboard full of delicious soup and no can opener.
  • Parking the car under the awning to avoid rain, birds, and high heat only to have to put up with the gnats that swarm in front of the sodium-vapor light that's above it at night.
  • Having the toll for a highway out of Dulles International Airport in Washington, but not having exact change at a time when the toll booths are unstaffed. (Been there, done that.)
  • Cooking up a candy-store full of treats for a kid's birthday party and then finding out the best friend of the guest of honor has a long list of food allergies.
  • Trying to pay the rent when you realize you've run out of personal checks.
  • Writing a killer book report on the wrong book.

The common thread through all of these is that we are prepared or we put forth effort, but some glitch complicates or ruins what should be a routine and practically flawless exercise. It reminds us life isn't fair or even completely rational.

Friday, January 27, 2017

The Word Is CONQUER

This series is inspired by the "Words From
Unity" public service announcements
that ran on television (particularly in
Kansas City) in the 1970's and 80's.
"Conquer" is one of those words that has deep dark connotations and yet it can appear so antiseptically. I have seen it used...

In textbooks: "Cortez conquered the Aztecs."

On Superfriends: "I will conquer them!"

In the Peanuts comic strip where Sally exclaims: "I've conquered new math!"

It's peculiar how the same word that can describe the joys of mastering fractional division can also describe the decimation and subjugation of peoples. Perhaps that's why I'm reluctant to use it even the creatively hyperbolic sense.

But don't let your servant hold you back from conquering your fears, your prejudices, your bad habits, your weight gain, your bad memories, and your sloth. If you are going to conquer the Annoying Guy in the Cubicle Next To You, this is where I turn and walk away, taking the sharp objects with me.

Thursday, January 26, 2017

The Word Is EXPECTATION

This series is inspired by the "Words From
Unity" public service announcements
that ran on television (particularly in
Kansas City) in the 1970's and 80's.
My pastor recently pointed out that so many people have anxiety or frustration in this world -- and with GOD -- because of the wrong set of expectations. I have to agree. I've seen a lot of people think, erroneously, that GOD is out to punish them without cause -- HE isn't. Or, they think GOD doesn't love them because they are suffering in spite of their prayers and faithfulness -- that's the work of the devil, not GOD (Jeremiah 29:11-13). Sometimes people pray for one thing and get something totally unexpected that answers that prayer. GOD has been known to do that a lot.

One of the things I learned after I got right with GOD is to widen your expectations. If you are intent on seeing them met in only one way, you're going to be disappointed a lot. Of course, this doesn't always apply to the expectations you set for other people. If they're not meeting your expectations, then that's a problem. But if people are meeting what you expect of them, you can't expect they will do it in exactly the way you imagine. Creative solutions come from many a problem.

This is a very obtuse explanation, I know, but I'm sure you know of times in your life when your needs were met in a way you didn't expect because you were looking at the problem from another direction. Expect the unexpected!

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

The Word Is PUSH

This series is inspired by the "Words From
Unity" public service announcements
that ran on television (particularly in
Kansas City) in the 1970's and 80's.
Earlier in this series, I talked about falling in with an international folk dance group here in Tucson. It has definitely broadened your servant's horizons and helped me stay fit. It has also been a exercise in humility: the more I learn, the more I see how much I have to learn. The feet don't want to follow the body, and the body sometimes doesn't want to move period after a long day in the newsroom. Still, I push myself to go. Why? Because I feel like I'm cross-training, just as I attend Scottish dancing to help with my English dancing, which in turn helps for my annual pilgrimage to Williamsburg and the George Washington Ball.

Pushing myself has paid off. It's easier for your servant to get through the two-hour "boot camp" ball rehearsal that precedes each Williamsburg Ball. Difficult figures don't throw me like they used to, and your servant has even had a chance to school some newcomers -- fulfilling that Colonial fantasy of being a dancing master.

It's not much different at work -- having to push myself to make deadlines, rewrite, do a lot of things in a little time to get a newscast on the air. But different from my dancing life, I have found myself guilty of trying to do too much at certain times, and I had to step back and realize I need to ask for help every now and then.

I bet a lot of you don't feel like you're doing your job unless you're taking it to the max. While that's fine, ask yourself if you really should be doing all you're doing. You may find -- as a former boss once told me -- that you have the world on your shoulders when you don't need to be holding it up!

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

The Word Is TENDERLY

This series is inspired by the "Words From
Unity" public service announcements
that ran on television (particularly in
Kansas City) in the 1970's and 80's.
You can approach this word one of two ways. My earliest memory of the word "tender" being used was on the radio. I heard Helen Reddy singing it -- or was it Maureen McGovern? In any event, my Aunt Susan was behind the wheel, taking me to Grandma and Grandpa Francis one day while the Queen Mother was getting ready to have Brother Michael in 1975. Among other things, we washed that car together in the shade of one of the trees. I have always loved that about my Auntie -- she could be as much of a kid as we were.

Maybe you prefer how Ernest Borgnine put it.



Your servant is partial to Dr. Teeth's version.

Monday, January 23, 2017

The Word Is ERUPTION

This series is inspired by the "Words From
Unity" public service announcements
that ran on television (particularly in
Kansas City) in the 1970's and 80's.
Volcanic events are not limited to our Earth. Our relationships and our plans blow up. Our tempers explode, and you don't want to get caught in the lava flow. Watching Gordon Ramsay's eruptions on Hell's Kitchen is a constant reminder of who I do not want to become.

I have stood knee deep in ash and magma in a previous job, when a boss decided excoriating everybody was effective leadership. I soon left, as did many others. This boss was not boss for much longer, although he later admitted to a mutual friend that his blow-ups drove people away. And still, this mutual friend told me although she didn't like this guy's bullying, he was whipping people into shape in a competitive workplace. It was the grudging bargain of living with one thing to have the other.

I know I've wanted to blow up numerous times, and I have had to sit on my temper (James 1:19) because among other things, I know the short-term satisfaction will not equal the long-term guilt, or who knows what other consequences. I have seen people get fired for just one eruption, maybe not loud and boisterous but underhanded and passive-aggressive. This isn't even counting the number of times I've had to hold back from shredding somebody on Facebook.

With all the lava I've had to store up inside, it's a blessing I'm not dead from being burned from the inside.