Daily Blues & Views

While spending this week in the Bay Area, some things have become quite clear. The vibe is so different from Portland. It's only been two years, but I feel the pace and tension down here constantly. Air quality is miserable because at the moment there are about 800 fires currently burning in California. Oakland is on a record homicide pace with 5 unrelated murders occurring in the last 5 days alone. People drive much faster here. There is no sign that the $4.69 gas is deterring many from driving SUVs either. In walking, which has been curtailed because of the smoke/ash in the air, the dryness is noticeable. This morning, with the smoke mixing with fog and haze, visibility is nil. People are less friendly. When I pass a mother with a baby in a stroller, no smile. Every place is crowded. Grocery store aisles, surface streets, lines in the coffee shop, lines on the faces. I wander around like someone whose been gone longer and notice which stores and restaurants are gone,...

A few days after Tiger Wood's gutsy performance in the U.S. Open revealed he would need a lengthy recovery time for a knee injury, the rumblings began. First the sports commentators complained that without Woods, there would be nobody worth watching. OK they get paid to make statements like that, I excuse the shallow reasoning. Then I heard it again. A boisterous contingent of 30 something golf enthusiasts were saying the same thing in my local coffee shop. They even used the N word-Nobody. "Nobody's worth watching anymore," one of them said. I'm reminded of the many times a student would enter my classroom a bit earlier than usual, glance around the room, see about ten people, roughly a third of the class, and then announce, "nobody's here," and walk out the door. We know what they are saying, these nobody's here declarers. We don't even need to say the chopped liver line in response. But could they be saying something more? ...

My father never promised much. So when he did, the expectation was always a little overboard. Like the time he was all set for his vacation and lost his job on the eve of a special dinner to celebrate the event. The bottle of white wine chilled in the refrigerator for the next ten years. At his worst, he was distant, brooding, obsessive-compulsive, and underachieving. At his best, he was warm, tactile, intelligent, and romantic. I owe my interest in literature, history, politics, and music to him. He often told me that I reminded him of my mom, and that brought us closer after her death. I don't think he ever got over the fact that she died at 54. His death came 10 years later at 71. My father bought into his own chiseled version of the American dream. I love this photo of my sister and me smiling as he dutifully cuts the grass. Could this moment in time bring contentment? Aside from the house payment and the two kids in the suburbs, his was a world of July 4th...

I think I've done a rather good job of entering this new century. Eight years in and I've already let go of most fast food, many fat and sugar loaded baked goods, owning every book I read, and using my truck everyday. I walk daily. I remain fairly open-minded about music I buy and listen to, (blues music will always come first) I get that life in the first half of the 21st century demands change, flexibility, humility, and tolerance. I am trying to age gracefully and use my considerable experience and knowledge with precision and empathy. Some things, like Levis are not negotiable. Chocolate, real, dark, antioxident loaded 75-85% chocolate is here to stay. Last weekend, while buying a Sunday paper in my local convenience store, I noticed something revolutionary. Dots, the gumdrops we all grew up with, have gone new age. On the shelf, next to the traditional rainbow of familiar gumdrops were the new names and flavors. Dots now come in 4 elements: Earth Wind, Fire, ...

I Cliches either contain a grain of truth, or their accuracy is such that they couldn't become cliches if they were not recurring themes that are useful from time to time. So it is that... "90% of life is just showing up." Big Brown didn't show up yesterday. The minute he was jostled on the first turn, as Desormeaux angled him out for position, I knew his trip was doomed. Maybe that's why I was more relieved than shocked to see him eased. For the uninitiated, eased means the jockey eased off the pedal, it means he slowed him down for the purpose of the horse's safety, health, and well being. It's not easy to slow down a 1200 pound animal, especially in front of 120,000 screaming fans who expect you to win. Props to Kent D. for making the tough decision. We all wanted to see a Triple Crown winner. Even the jaded cynics who can't help themselves wanted to be eyewitness to history. But you can't always get what you want. We needed this supe...

Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird; it's a plane, it's...it's... it's neither. It's 2008. Go Big Brown! GObama! Who needs Superman? Sometimes the stories just write themselves. It's June 4th, the 40th anniversary of the assassination of RFK. 35 years since Secretariat's Belmont, and the eve before Big Brown takes the Triple Crown and Obama the Presidency. Predictions? No, just observations. But also a wonderful yardstick to measure the last half century. Since we, as a culture, are still throwing off the crusty veil of mean-spirited cynicism, I have to pre-date my thoughts carefully to maintain my street credibility. Both Obama and Big Brown are poised for the history books. What is written from this day forward will be the stuff of critics and true believers. It matters little. A page of life has turned. Two names inscribed; quasi immortality, the only kind. Sure I'd like to see a Triple Crown winner and the first African-American presid...