Seal

"Prayer for the Dying"

"Crazy"

U2

"Vertigo"


"Beautiful Day"

Miles Davis

"All Blues"



"So What"(Duet with John Coltrane)

Hank Williams Sr.-"Hey Good Lookin' "

Roy Orbison

"Only the Lonely"


"Pretty Woman"


"Crying"

The Police

"Synchronicity II"


"Every Breath You Take"

Carlos Santana-"Oye Como Va"

Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers-"Moanin"

Dave Brubeck Quartet-"Take Five"

Memorial Day 2008

Went to Cincinnati to see my niece Linzi graduate from High School. Saw my Mom, Dad, and sister and her family. Here's the highlights.

-Bought a new jazz CD-"Go", by Dexter Gordon.
-Laura got some Gold Star Coneys and I got a bag of Sliders (White Castle Hamburgers) and some Onion Chips.
-Failed utterly, hopelessly and miserably on Rock Band, and it was for "Message in a Bottle"! (May need counseling after this)
-Went shopping at the outlet mall in Fremont, and found that my big ole Patas(Spanish for Hooves) fit seamlessly in almost any type of Bass shoes! Talk about freakin' nirvana! I have always had a hard time finding dress shoes!
-During my 5 hour trip to Cincinnati, I have finally mastered sucking all of the cheese filling out of a Pizza-Flavored Combo.

Ya Basta.

Thanks.

Muto

The New Mascot for Cinco De Mayo

The Fiesta Platypus



A little goodie from the good folks at Found Magazine. I really like the mustache and the maracas.

50 cent interviews

Alex Chadwick from NPR does these interviews where he pays people fifty cents to let him interview them in public. He sets up a card table in a busy public place and talks to all kinds of people. It's really fascinating. This one is about an airbrush tattoo artist and a lady with cancer.

The Boss Backs Obama

This is not an endorsement for either candidate, I just loved this video. But if Celine Dion ever endorses any of the candidates, I would have to choose whoever she didn't choose.

Death of a Salesman

My wife and I have a list of the books that we have read. This is a list of the sort of classic literature that makes you a better person, not just any book. Harlequin Romances, Louis Lamour, those detective stories where the detective's cat always helps find clues, those are not on the list. Things like "Uncle Tom's Cabin", "Fahrenheit 451", "Leaves of Grass", "Jane Eyre", the literary equivalent of steak, potatoes and steamed broccoli is what I am describing.

My wife is 10 books ahead of me at present, but I'm not giving up.

I recently read "Death of a Salesman" by Arthur Miller. It was a very good book. It's actually a rather long three act play. It's about a salesman named Willy Loman, nearing the end of his life and trying to come to grips with how things have ended. He is not the success he would have liked to be, and neither are his sons. Throughout the play he tries to determine what were the pivotal points at which things went wrong for he and his family.

Now from the title, you know he's going to die and you know its not going to be a happy story. I actually liked knowing that from the first. Even though it was not happy, it was a good book because it forces you to ask questions about life that are worth asking.

"What is success in life?"
"What is truly valuable in life?"
"Do we all have to be a success?"

Before I quote from the book, here are a list of the characters and their backgrounds.

Willy-the salesman-spent his life selling on the Eastern Seaboard States, always middling, never truly being a great success. He is at the end of his life now-trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

Biff-His oldest son-started out as a huge success as a High School athlete, but then never could make anything of himself. Biff has went from job to job, finding some happiness in working as a ranchhand in the West, but always being haunted that he never met his father's huge plans for him.

Happy-Willy's youngest son, works in an office job, has high ambitions of being successful so he can please his father.

Linda-Willy's Wife-The one that holds the family together, always believing in Willy no matter what, she knows he is at the end of his rope and is falling deep into depression. She loves him regardless and defends him to everyone.

In the first act, Willy is trying to get off the road and work as a salesman in the New York office, he's so close to having everything paid off and finally retiring, but nothing is working out. He begins to lose touch with reality and starts going in and out of conversations with people from the past. These are Linda's comments:

“I don't say he's a great man. Willy Loman never made a lot of money. His name was never in the paper. He's not the finest character that ever lived. But he's a human being, and a terrible thing is happening to him. So attention must be paid. He's not to be allowed to fall into his grave like an old dog. Attention, attention must be finally paid to such a person.” – Linda

“A small man can be just as exhausted as a great man.” – Linda

Willy goes to his boss, and asks for help. He has worked there all of his life, but he is not profitable anymore because of his erratic behavior, and because he is not the most successful salesman. His younger boss, finally tells him he has to leave.
This is Willy's response:

Willy: You can't eat the orange and throw the peel away — a man is not a piece of fruit.

Willy: After all the highways, and the trains, and the appointments, and the years, you end up worth more dead than alive.

Throughout the play, Willy tries to convince his oldest son Biff to try again to be a great success, to use what contacts he has to start a great sales campaign to make lots of money. Biff wants so hard to please his father, he goes and waits all day to see an ex-employer to sell him on his scheme. The man ignores him, and finally tells him to leave. Biff, in a moment of anger, steals the man's expensive fountain pen off his desk and flees. Afterward, Biff has an epiphany about life, work and what's really important in life:

Biff: ...I ran down eleven flights with a pen in my hand today. And suddenly I stopped, you hear me? And in the middle of that office building, do you hear this? I stopped in the middle of that office building and I saw--the sky. I saw the things that I love in the world. The work and the food and the time to sit and smoke. And I looked at the pen and said to myself, what the hell am I grabbing this for? What am I doing in an office, making a contemptous begging fool of myself, when all I want is out there, waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am! Why can't I say that, Willy? [He tries to make Willy face him. but Willy pulls away and moves to the left]
Willy [with hatred, threateningly]: The door of your life is wide open!
Biff: Pop! I'm a dime a dozen, and so are you!

Shortly after this exchange, Willy becomes more and more out of touch with reality. He goes from hating Biff for being a failure like him, to being ecstatic at the success he knows Biff will finally be. In a moment of delusion, he decides that he will kill himself so Biff can use the life insurance money as capital to finally be the big success he never was.

The last act of the play is called the requiem. Its Willy's funeral. The life insurance paid off all the bills and his little family is at the graveside. No one came but them to the service.

Biff explains why he died.

Biff:He had the wrong dreams. All, all, wrong.
Happy [almost ready to fight Biff]:Don't say that!
Biff:He never knew who he was.

Happy refuses to accept that, and vows to fight on to be a success.

Happy: I'm gonna show you and everybody else that Willy Loman did not die in vain. He had a good dream. It's the only dream you can have - to come out number-one man. He fought it out here, and this is where I'm gonna win it for him.

When I finished reading the play, I didn't know what to think. It was a shame for a man to die an ignoble death, grasping for a success based solely on material wealth, and the fame and notoreity.

What struck me most was how it seemed to illustrate a sociological term called False Consciousness. Here's a definition:

"An awareness mystified by ideology and unaware of its own basis in relations of oppression; failure to recognise one’s own oppression as a result of internalizing dominant political discourse."

A little more simply, society programs us to believe that by working harder we will always be rewarded. When this does not happen, we always blame ourself instead of wondering if maybe its not our fault, but an unfair world system around us. If we always think that working harder and playing by the rules is the answer, we will never realize if we are being oppressed by a system that favors the upper classes (Bourgesie) and keeps the lower classes(Proletariet) under their thumb.

No surprise that Karl Marx, one of the founders of Communism was the first person to come up with this theory. Do I believe all of this? No, I don't believe all of it.

I do, however believe that there are forces at work in this world that do, whether consciously or unconsciously, seek to control our beliefs about what is valuable and what is not. There are ideas that have taken root in our world that say that success is more important than truth and love, and that making money is proof that God has blessed you.

The most important truth we need to take away from the theory of false consciousness is that we have to not take anything society tells us at face value. What we do and what we become needs to be based on a truth that is outside of the jangle of messages that society markets to us.

Willy became so obsessed with success that he forgot his family. He wanted the material wealth and the notoriety of this world more than he wanted the true affection, simple love and fufillment of the relationships of the ones he held dear. He would rather die for an illusion of success than live with the happiness of being a mediocre man who was well-loved by those around him. Throughout the book, all his wife wants is for him to love her and not leave, his boys just want him to be proud of who they are, but instead, he trades it all for the delusion of what could have been and that delusion ultimately takes his life.

Arthur Miller may have meant the play to speak to some anti-capitalistic ideas, he may have had Marxist values behind some of it-that's conjecture on my part. What I do know is that when Willy gave all he had to his job and to the god of business, it used him up and threw him away like a rind from an Orange. That should not be a surprise to anyone, business is about making money and the corporate entity surviving. If we expect more than that, we are naive.

Willy should have spent less time obsessed with success, more time working on the relationships with the people who loved him. That is where there would be true success, only what we do in the lives of people can last for eternity.

My Playlist for the Day

Sometimes at work when I am doing one of those tasks that goes on forever and is tedious, I mix a playlist on Windows Media Player and name it for whatever I am doing, or eating or feeling at the moment. One of my favorite playlists is called "Celebration for a New Chair", it was one the day I received a brand new office chair as my very own.

Today I came back to my cubicle after a very long meeting and settled in to clean up the messes of the day and mixed up this little gem of a playlist.

I titled this "Wasabi Peas and Diet Coke", in honor of my snack at the time.

"Who can it be now?" - Men at Work
"Be Good Johnny" - Men at Work
"Overkill" - Men at Work
"Every Breath You Take" - The Police
"King of Pain" - The Police
"Float On" - Modest Mouse
"Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes." - Paul Simon
"Would I Lie to You?" - Eurythmics
"Sultans of Swing" - Dire Staits
"Romeo and Juliet" - Dire Straits
"Las Vegas Nights" - Hootie and the Blowfish
"Working in a Coal Mine" - Devo
"The Nightfly" - Donald Fagen
"Man of Constant Sorrows" Soggy Bottom Boys from "O Brother Where Art Thou?" Soundtrack
"Country Girl" - Lord Melody from the album "Putumayo Presents: Calypso"
"Clocks" - ColdPlay
"Middle of the Road" - The Pretenders

Coffee

Some mornings I find myself not looking forward to my shower because I have to stop drinking coffee and my cup is cold when I get out of the shower. I know I could probably use some sort of commuter mug in the shower if I wanted, but there's always the danger of getting water in my cup, or worse yet soap or shampoo. I can't take the chance of soapy coffee.

Some of you may be concerned and leave a comment that this may be indicative of an addiction. I appreciate the concern, and would like to point out with that kind of quick-witted amateur psychological diagnosis I am sure Dr. Phil is shaking in his cowboy boots. The bigger indicator to me is that I get a headache in the morning if I don't drink it.

I don't mind that, because coffee makes me happy. There are times when I have a feeling of well-being and peace that comes from coffee,at times, it almost feels like a religious experience.

Henry's Blend from Seattle's Best is my favorite. I do not like Starbucks. Except for their Breakfast Blend, they do not know how to make any kind of mild blend. There are times that all of their coffee tastes like a burnt expresso blend. On the other hand, I do like to hang out in their stores, sit on the leather couches and eat bagels and hang out with friends.

Burritos and Politics

On Friday, a group of about six of us went to my favorite Mexican Restaraunt, Los Gallanes. Now I have my own ideas about what makes a great Mexican restaraunt. Of course, the food should be excellent. There should be a lot of it, and it not be too expensive--'cause I'm cheap.

More than that, the vibe should feel uniquely Mexican. Which perfectly describes Los Gallanes. Its in a supermarket that was renovated from a True Value Hardware Store and painted in bright yellow and green. There is blaring music, and the sort of garish posters everywhere advertising upcoming concerts with guys in big cowboy hats and women with too much cleavage showing.

Then there's the service and the food. I come in one day and order a chicken burrito, and am told "no chicken today". The next time I order Eggs and Chorizo, and they have no eggs. Sometimes we get free appetizers, other times an incredible free black bean and mushroom soup. Sometimes its closed and once we came in and were told they had to wait for a health department inspection (They had just remodeled-its a very clean place).

Some people don't like this kind of uncertainty. But I love it. Its the sort of adventure that living in Latino culture can be like. Nothing runs with the same Gringo efficiency, but the latin charm and good humor makes it worth the trouble. There's enough places where you can go and get the same food for the same price in the same amount of time-go to McDonalds or Wendy's if you want this kind of banal dining experience.

Anyway, my credibility with my friends from work was about shot. They told me this was my last chance and were starting a pool with reasons why the restaraunt would not be open. So I called and spoke to the waitress (and check-out girl) and she assured me the cook would be in before lunch and it was ok to come. We came, we ate and had a great time. The service was slow, but the salsa was outstanding and we were given two great big plates of really good guacamole. The next day at work, my friend Chad and I had the following conversation:

"I had a dream Friday where a burrito came to my house and talked to me. I think that means there is something wrong with the burritos. "
"Really? What did it talk to you about? Was it Chicken or Beef? Did it have the yellow sauce?"
"It had the sauce. We discussed how cold it was, and how John Edwards makes empty promises. Wish I could make stuff up that cool."
"So did it have arms and legs and eyes?"
"It didn't have arms, but it had legs and was wearing tennis shoes."
"Did it have an accent?"
"No, it just sat down on my bed and talked like a normal person. I told my Mom about it, she got mad and told me not to say anything bad about John Edwards."
"Maybe if he would have reached out to the Latino community like Hilary has, he could have got more support from giant talking burritos."
"Yep..."

While he seemed almost blasé about the whole thing, I could tell it was eating at him. I told him he needed to let it all out or the burrito would win. He'd see the burrito everywhere. Finally, he aquiesed and did some informal art therapy and drew the burrito. Here is the burrito in his room. Note the Jarritos Pineapple soda on the nightstand.




It seemed to help a little. So he pushed through the pain and drew the burrito again. This time as a defiant and powerful figure for change, leading this new political revolution against insincere politics. At first, it almost reminded me of Diego Rivera's iconic murals of Zapata, but then I cleaned my glasses and realized it was just a burrito.



Three days later, I tried to talk Chad into going for burritos again today, but he had this haunted look in his eyes and he began to shake visibly. I decided to let it drop-it was still all too fresh...

Juanito

Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band-Cherchez La Femme

You ever find yourself liking something, but you aren't sure why? At first you are confused, then amused, annoyed, then quietly overjoyed over something that is dissonant yet makes you happy anyway. That's how I feel about this video.



So, what is with that outfit she is wearing? Is it a dress, a jacket, a robe, what? The rest of the band is is really cool, and being in the musical instrument business, I love seeing the vibes, timpanis, and brass and woodwind. What's up with that guitarist? He is funky in an almost creepy way, like David Byrne from the Talking Heads.

Anyway, tell me what you think.

Juanito

Bunnee

One of my favorite websites to visit is Found Magazine. They collect all manner of notes, letters, drawings, and any other media that was found. This one really caught my eye.

I find myself afraid to go rabbit hunting alone now...

Juanito

My Nerd Score

It's Coming Closer...

There it is.

Over the horizon, just out of view, but edging closer every day. I can feel it just out of sight, waiting for me. I walk down the streets and I can feel its prescence out there in the shadows. If I spin around when I'm walking I might see a flash as it disappears down an alley. Sometimes I think I hear footsteps, and I stop and then I don't. I know I tend toward a little paranoia, but this is real.

We have to meet someday, but I thought it would be so much later. I've seen other people go through this, but I never thought it would happen to me. I've tried to ignore it, avoid it, but it's no use. There is nowhere I can run, nowhere I can hide. It will finally hunt me down and stare me straight in the face. I'll look away and it will finally grab my face and force me to stare at its horrible visage.

My fortieth birthday will be here on the 31st...

I'm still trying to figure out what to do about it.

If you want to help, click on the Amazon Wishlist over on the sidebar, because no matter how old I get, I still become an 8 year old gift mercenary between Christmas and January 31st. I'm ok with that. I'll say that my mother spoiled me, because I was the baby, but I'm getting a little too old to blame things on my Mom any more.

Juanito...

Jazzy Little Christmas

It's been a good Thanksgiving holiday. Last night, we stopped at Wal-Mart for some groceries and I made the most incredible buy on a boxed set of the Charlie Brown Christmas Collection, a three cd collection with everything not just the soundtrack from the original TV show, but also a CD with the soundtracks from other Charlie Brown specials and a tribute CD of the same music done by other Artists.

To those of you that may not know, the Vince Guaraldi Trio is responsible for the incredible music on the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. Probably their best known piece is "Linus and Lucy" with that incredibly catchy piano riff we all love so well.

I never really never listened to Jazz as a kid. My dad and I would listen to country music most of the time in the truck. My father didn't sing much in the truck, but the times I do remember him singing, he was partial to Hank Williams Sr., who I still like.



We also listened to the other popular country artists, like George Jones, Merle Haggard, Red Sovine and the like. Since we went to CB Jamborees and worked in construction, country music was everywhere around me. At one point I remember owning a silver belt buckle, cowboy hat and boots-but I never really liked horses. I remember every Saturday Night, we would watch Hee Haw, which was torture to me except after the age of 12. At that time, I started appreciating the girls in the Daisy Duke shorts, but I decided it was best not to point that out to my folks. My mother liked Gospel, especially Nancy Harmon, and the Gaithers.

Around thirteen or fourteen I started becoming interested in Rock and Roll. It was the 80's and New Wave was really popular. I started off listening to Blondie, with such greats song as "One Way or Another" and "Atomic Love", and sadly, the disco hit, "Heart of Glass", (I'm not proud of that last one).



Then I remembered hearing the Talking Heads, and I knew I would probably never wear my silver belt buckle again. When I heard "Burning Down the House" and "Once in a Lifetime", I felt like every kid, in every generation, when they finally discover their music, their voice, their symbol for their time--the soundtrack for their time that will always be playing in their memories when they remember being young.



Sure, I rejected Country Music and most forms of Southern Gospel for Rock and Roll, but, I had never been introduced to Jazz. My parents didn't listen to it. No one I knew in my hometown of Bend, Oregon listened to it. The only time I ever really remember hearing it was at Christmas time, when the Charlie Brown Christmas Special came on. But there was something about it that went beyond the simple labels we give music. It was beyond genre and beat and lyrics, and was simply good. It was good the same way that no matter how educated your palate may become to truffles, fois gras and fine wines, you can always appreciate a hot brownie with vanilla ice cream. When I listened to that music as a kid, I didn't know how to express it in words, but I knew there was more to music than top 40 and MTV. I just didn't know where to look.

What I'm getting at is that there is something special about Vince Guaraldi's music that goes beyond image. Look at this picture:

Vince may be one of the least cool-looking guys ever, with his bandido mustache, flat top and nerd glasses. I mean compare him to my earlier pop heroes. He didn't have spinning, fluffy guitars, classic hot rods, and the type of girls that my mother would have never approved of hanging all over them.



He didn't have the kind of ultra, ironic, tongue-in-cheek humor of Devo-not to mention those cool hats!



Vince Guaraldi never had that permanent, hip sneer that the Police had. He never had songs like Synchronicity I where he explored Jungian philosophy.



But you know, Guaraldi's music has the kind of coolness that transcends what I thought was cool just because it was different from my parent's music. Maybe I just don't have the same attention span I did then. Maybe I'm just getting older. I still own CD's from all those bands, and even some new rock from today. I still listen to the music from my generation, but I always seem to go back to Jazz, especially the small combo stuff like the Vince Guaraldi Trio.

If you dropped Vince Guaraldi and any of the musicians I worshipped as a teenager in the middle of a tribe of people who knew nothing about modern music and had them play their best song for them, I would bet real money that Linus and Lucy would be the most popular song.

For me, Jazz speaks a language that is more essential, more complete. The vagaries of lyrics, marketing and trying to outdo the other band, are stripped away. The musicians use a framework of sheet music as a starting point and then seek where the groove will take them, starting with notes on paper and ending with the notes in the spirit.

Have yourself a Jazzy little Christmas...

-Juanito

How Well Do You Know Me? Take the Test...

Useless time wasters about esoteric information-isn't that what the internet is all about?

How well do you know John?

New Photos

I had to change my picture hosting service for my blog. Some of you may not have read some of the older entries, or have not seen the pictures with them. Below are links to some older entries that now have pictures on them. I also added some pictures that were not there before. There will be more to come later.

The Haircut of an Honest Man.
The Day it All Changed
"Remember Who You Are."
I'm Sorry
37 Years Old

John

La Hora Latina, (Living on Latin Time)

"Punctuality Drive to Combat Tardiness."

"Peruvians, Set Your Watches"

(Click the first link above to read a Reuters article about a government program to combat tardiness, and the second link to listen to an NPR segment about the same program)


The NPR Program on this explained that it is normal for Peruvians to be an hour late for business meetings. It also said that it was common for the previous president of Peru to be two hours late for meetings. At the start of this campaign, there were bells and sirens and even a cannon that sounded at Noon. This was the signal to everyone to synchronize their watches and start a new era of punctuality and order and efficiency.

Right...

Here's a quote from the president of Peru:

"We must stop this horrible, pitiful, disastrous custom of failing to be punctual," he intoned in a speech, inveighing against the $5 billion in annual economic damage caused, he said, by being late."~Peruvian President,Alan Garcia,Reuters Article

The NPR reporter explained that most Peruvians ignored the whole thing and life went on with life as usual. A government program is rarely able to make any real changes to entrenched cultural norms. I guess if they started handing out tickets to late people and taxing them for lateness, they might cause some changes, but I'm sure voting out politicians who make dumb laws would be the most substantial change.

The Latino world has always seen time differently than European and Asian cultures. It's obvious that Peru has a larger problem with time than most Latino countries. In fact, the reporter explained that when Peruvians plan to meet someone, and actually want them to be on time, they ask that they arrive on "English Time".

The most common word for "now" in Spanish is "ahora". One of the literal translations of this word is "this same hour". Certainly, there are ways in Spanish you can say this "this very moment",("este mismo momento" is one), but anyone who has been in Spanish speaking countries would agree that time seems to slow down to a certain extent.

When I was in Costa Rica, I was always showing up for everything way too early. If I was 5 minutes early for school, sometimes I would have wait for someone to open the building. Church generally started about twenty minutes late. I finally embraced what expats in Costa Rica call "Tico Time". For once, my life was unhurried, and even if I was a little late, I knew no one would be offended. There was a new social contract I had never known before. You would let me be a little late, and I would not care if I had to wait for you. For a gringo, it felt like I was getting away with something. There was time to smell the roses, time to gossip and drink another cup of coffee. Time stretched out unhurriedly before me, unrolling and stretching out like the endless blue water on the black beach of Playa Samara. It felt good...

I know this isn't just limited to Costa Rica and Peru. Mexico has long has a reputation of being a country famous for "mañana", meaning whenever you ask when something will be done, they off-handedly say "mañana", which means "tomorrow" as an exact translation, but really means "whenever" (cuandoquiera). The times I have been to Mexico, I haven't seen this as bad as uptight gringos describe it, but I have experienced that same time warp I felt in Costa Rica where everything slows way down.

I do remember rolling up to the border one day during the World Cup. Everything ground to a screeching halt as we waited in lines at windows and could hear "Goooaaallll!!!" coming from crackling portable TVs behind the frosted glass windows at the customs offices. We sat around on benches in the stifling afternoon sun, lingered in queues, and fed pesos to the pop machines for Coca Light and Fontana Naranja refrescos, but eventually paid for our permits, got our visas and climbed back into the delicious air conditioning of our Ford Econoline vans.

My own opinion about the Latino concept of time is somewhere between cynicism and romance. I know the attitude about time comes from both good and bad sources. The fatalistic attitude that comes from the conquest of the New World by Spain, continued on through the oppression of the rich and powerful over the desperately poor. The names changed, even the faces of oppressors and crooked politicians looked less and less European, and more and more indigenous. Sometimes things go slow because no one believes they will get better, or sees no reason to pursue efficiency when it only seems to benefit those with more money.

The romantic side of Latin time is this: removing the oppression of time leads to a slower, friendlier world. Over and over, I remember back to my teacher in Costa Rica telling me that people are more important than goals. Time spent building relationships, lingering over another cafecito, another dance, another song with friends, just one more taco, just a little more time with those you love...

I don't care if the sense of Latino time is from an ancient sense of passive-aggressive fatalism, or the prioritizing of people before soulless efficiency. I have lived a long time in the fast-paced gringo world and I find myself wanting a slower world. I know the old saying "be careful what you wish for" is true, but I just wish we could have the relaxed pace of Latino America combine with some of the efficiency of Gringolandia.

It may take longer to get things done, but we could spend that time getting to know each other instead of enjoying a solitary,modern life where you never have to wait more than five minutes for a cup of coffee...

Juanito.

John's Nitrous Oxide Play List

I went to get a filling today. I have a really cool dentist, he has the poshest office you have ever been to. It has gourmet coffee, fresh cookies, bottled water and all other kind of cool amenities.

I like it all except for his obsession with Bruce Springsteen. I have some respect for "The Boss", but I don't particularly like him. He seems like if Bob Dylan was a little taller and from New Jersey.

So I brought my own music. As they put that magic airmask over me, and I started smelling the cold, minty smell of Nitrous, I hit play and was ready for essentially a nap while someone beat on my face.

Its really hard to get the right kind of music for being under anaesthesia. The Police make me feel a little paranoid, and ZZ Top is a little scary. Yanni and Enya work really well, but most other things just sound like a blurry Captain and Tenielle song that wont go away. Then when the dentist actually starts drilling, the music is not that hot unless you turn it up way high, which I really cant do anymore.

Today I was tired of messing with the music and just set it to play all. My player holds about twelve albums or more, so at least I would have some variety if nothing else.

When I started feeling the numbness in my feet and the general feeling of ease, I was listening to the Country Swing Stylings of Charlie Adams singing "In The Army Now." I've been giving Country Swing a real chance lately. This is a mix of jazz, big band, and classic country music. Its happy, doesn't take itself too seriously and I love a good steel guitar. This is a much different and better kind of country music than the pop country stars like Garth Brooks or Shania Twain.

After that, the drilling started in earnest. For this time, the MP3 player started playing "Faint" by Linkin Park from the "Live From Texas" album. Some people dismiss Linkin Park as EMO rap, but I think they have some real talent and inventive lyrics. The hard guitar, heavy synthesiser and rap went perfect with the drilling noise.

After the filling was done, I had to lay there for about five minutes as I breathed Oxygen to clear my head. During this time, I listened to the Bob Marley and the Wailer's classic hit, "All In One." Classic happy music and so incredibly mellow. The album name is "African Herbsman", which leads me to believe it may have been inspired by more than just growing Oregano and Marjoram in the sun.

-Johnito

Why Santa is Wrong.

It's funny that as you get older, you find yourself thinking about things you really never gave a second thought to when you were younger.

Take Santa for instance.

No, it's too late for me, I know that he does not come down the chimney, and he is not getting any more of my cookies and milk. If he did exist, I'd probably be on the naughty list after this! My problem with Santa is not due to the generous mythology that has developed around him. My problem with Santa is that he is a bad symbol to celebrate the birth of Christ.

Let me show what I mean, here's the lyrics to the popular Christmas song, Santa Claus Is Coming To Town*:

"You better watch out
You better not cry
Better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town

He's making a list,
And checking it twice;
Gonna find out Who's naughty and nice.
Santa Claus is coming to town

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!"
(J. Fred Coots, Henry Gillespie (c) 1934)

If we believed this song, Santa Claus is a combination of the Pope and Homeland Security. He judges our sins and weaknesses with omniscience and infallibility. His agents are lurking behind every tree and corner. There are elves stationed on every rooftop and hill, aiming parabolic listening devices and night vision goggles at our houses and apartments, spying on each child day and night. Out in the community, in coffee shops, bars, beauty shops and other "adult places", out of sight of kid's eyes, are posters telling adults how to report bad behavior to Santa. It's no wonder kids get extra squirrelly this time of year, Christmas must feel like some childhood version of George Orwell's 1984.



This invention of Santa Claus as a symbol of judgment and unflinching righteousness does not seem to be based on any common stories of Saint Nicholas as a person, yet in many of the celebrations around the world, he continues to reward the good children and punish the bad children.Click here to read about the historical Saint Nicholas). I guess that society unconsciously looks for ways to control behavior any way it can.

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast."~Ephesians 2:10

That's what I don't like about Santa. The stories we tell kids about Santa reinforce the wrong ideas about Christmas. He only brings toys to the good boys and girls, and coal to the naughty ones. But when God brought us the gift of Jesus Christ, he brought that gift freely to a world of bad children, stained by all manner of sin and naughtiness.

We did not deserve this gift. Christmas is not about being good enough to deserve God's free gift. Its about God giving us what we don't deserve, and us having the faith to accept it freely.

Merry Christmas.

-John

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

I'm sitting on the couch enjoying one of my favorite holiday specials, that Rankin-Bass classic, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". I'm wondering what I would look like in a bowler hat, I mean I've already got the plaid Christmas vest. Maybe I could dye my goatee white every year. I love Christmas so much, it could be a two month holiday as far as I am concerned.

Back to the movie, ever since this has come out in the 70's or 60's,(I'm not sure when, I can't decipher that "MCMLXV" stuff on the credits), most people near a TV have watched the show over and over. I love everything in it, from the little poodle pulling Yukon Cornelius' sled, to the "Charlie in the Box" on the Island of Misfit Toys. I also find myself repeating Rudolph's catch phrase, "I'm coot! I'm coot!", you know, 'cause I am.

The music is so memorable. I find myself singing "Why am I such misfit? I am not just a nitwit!", or "Have a holly, jolly Christmas! Its the best time of the year!". The funny thing is, this year I realized this show was actually really subversive for its time. I'm not kidding. This year I realized that Rudolph could have been written by some Liberal-Arts Sociology Professor. Let me explain...


Rudolph and Hermes don't fit in. They are misfits. I love the part in the first part of the show when the elf-boss mocks Hermes for wanting to be a dentist. "Who ever heard of an elf that didn't like to make toys?". It's like he is saying "There is only one kind of elf-you are wrong for wanting to be different", it's classic social-conflict theory. Both Hermes and Rudolph are alienated from the group because they don't submit to its wishes, or they don't appear like everyone else. They in turn, leave the group and make their way on their own and in the end overcome the group stigma and become valuable on their own terms. This is classic sociology theory, when people are unable to submit to the mores of societies, they have to find alternate methods to gain status and resources.

The island of misfit toys is kind of the climax to this thought. Santa finally determines that misfits can be main-streamed throughout society and will be great toys because of their "different-ness".

To take this even farther, Santa doesn't want to be fat, but he is pushed into overeating by other people's images of what he is supposed to be. "Eat, Papa eat! Whoever heard of a skinny Santa?", his wife tells him. He's got food issues I tell you! He could be like a bulimic trying to get in a size 0, except exactly the opposite.

You can even see feminist thought in how Rudolph's girlfriend and his mom strike out on their own to join the search party, even though it was dangerous for women.

With all this in mind, I have formed the skeleton of a thesis and I will start continuing research on a paper I have decided to call "Themes of Alienation as Seen in Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". I have checked out the academic search engines, I will be the first to present this ground-breaking research.

Or maybe that's just the egg-nog and cookies talking, I get kind of goofy when I get all sugared-up. After all, it's just a bunch of puppets...

Merry Christmas.

Johnito.

Parent Teacher Conferences

Last Wednesday, I worked as a translator for parent teacher conferences in a local elementary and junior high school. This wasn't the first time I had done this, I did it in January also. It was a pretty good gig, not only did I get to be a help Latinos with everyday problems, but I got paid and a free lasagna dinner out of it. I would have done it for nothing, but I'm gracious enough to take money and lasagna if they want to give it to me.

Translating on the fly, going between someone speaking English to someone speaking Spanish is fairly tough. It feels like the mental equivalent of weight lifting without taking breathers. What's really strange is those first few minutes, its like you are trying to start a car in the middle of Winter. You stutter and stop, and then finally are able to start speaking fluently. I've asked other non-native Spanish speakers, and this is pretty common. The best I can figure out is that bi-lingual thought processes require some sort of mental priming of the pump.

I started studying Spanish starting about 1995, but I still feel nervous walking into these jobs. Each time I'm less nervous, though. I can remember all the other times I translated, or spoke to a group of people in Spanish and it always worked out fine.

Most of the night I stayed with one family going from teacher to teacher. It was a boy of about 13 and his mom that was about my age. This was great, because while we were waiting for the other students to finish with the teachers, we talked about all sorts of things. By the end of the night we were great friends and talking about politics, cooking, the immigration problems and all kinds of things. The great thing about doing translation this way is that you have the time to develop a relationship with the people you are helping.

This is optimal. While it may be irresponsible to make generalizations about any group of people, most people agree(including Latinos themselves), that personal relationships play a larger part in communication to Latinos than to Anglos. In short, trust without some sort of intimacy is not likely. Without some time spent getting to know one another, or giving people reason to believe that you will treat them fairly, things will always seem a little cold.

An extended get-to-know-you session may not be possible every time, but even in those rushed times, you still stop and shake their hand, tell them your name, and generally take time to be pleasant and human. It's never wasted time.

Juanito