ThomSchuyler.com

The Physical Cliff

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 17:55:00 +0000

Someone I love asked me to explain the “physical cliff” about a month ago. Rather than correcting the proper delineation of that phrase, I proceeded to offer my best explanation of that which will transpire if our elected officials fail to reach a reasonable compromise on the absurdly large and pressing economic issues we face in our country. I was happy to speak to my dear one in basic bits of data because it helped to clarify the confusion in my own mind, as well.

Following on 30 minutes of our fumbling back-and-forth at the breakfast table, we were both reasonably satisfied that we understood the circumstances and possible ramifications of the “fiscal cliff.” But then I had another thought: she may have had it right in the first place. Perhaps a physical cliff rising hundreds of feet above a rocky canyon would be an effective incentive for 535 senators and representatives to make a decision. Line them up on the edge and give them five minutes to figure out a solution. The alternative awaits them below…

“Come senators and congressmen

Please heed the call

Don’t stand in the doorway

Don’t block up the hall

For he that gets hurt

Will be he who has stalled…”

From “The Times They Are A-Changin’”

By Bob Dylan

Electoral Absurdity

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Sun, 23 Dec 2012 23:53:00 +0000

Last month (November 2012) the U.S. electorate exposed its troubled character in a profound way. As millions of Americans entered voting booths across the country Gallup reiterated their polling numbers reporting that Congress had an approval rating of 18%. This means that of the 535 members of The House and Senate a mere 97 were considered in favorable terms. Or, looking at this from the opposite perspective, our citizens were discontent with 438 members of our governing bodies.

Given these astonishing statistics logic would predict a tremendous shake-up in Washington, D.C. But this didn’t happen. In fact, the re-election rate for incumbents in November was 91%. Again, in terms of actual numbers this means that 358 of 393 incumbents retained their seats in The House and 21 of 23 incumbent Senators also retained their positions.

What does this say about us? We are either mesmerized, paralyzed, incapable of acting logically on irrefutable data or corporately frozen in the fear of the unknown. Perhaps it’s a combination of all of these things.

Whatever it is, nothing will change because we have, essentially, changed nothing. Shame on you, shame on me, shame on us…

A Bomb For Jesus

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Mon, 29 Oct 2012 14:59:00 +0000

For about 200 years, between 1069 and 1279, The Christian Church conducted violent, brutal and destructive campaigns across continental Europe and into the Middle East. These war-like events were intended to bring people into the faith and annihilate the unbelievers—mostly Muslims. As these campaigns progressed they became less about religion and more about gathering wealth and power. Nonetheless, it is a dark shadow on the face of Christianity, no doubt.

On the other hand, Christians have also been persecuted, beginning on the Day of Pentecost and continuing through this very moment. Stephen, Peter and Paul are not the only purveyors of the faith that met a cruel demise. Millions of Jesus believers have died because of their convictions and this is not likely to change.

But let’s examine this very moment. How often throughout the course of a typical week do we encounter reports of Christians strapping concealed bombs to their bodies, boarding a bus, walking into a crowded movie theater or strolling into a shopping mall? How many Christians learn how to fly large passenger jets for the sole purpose of crashing them into heavily populated skyscrapers? How many Christians storm foreign embassies and murder government employees from other countries? How many truly Christian regimes (if any exist) slaughter their citizens with the singular goal of absolute and unquestioned power?

One may question the horrifying acts of Timothy McVeigh, Eric Rudolph, Anders Breivik and the Ku Klux Klan—all of which claimed some variety of Christian motivation. Branding these individuals and this organization as examples of Christian terrorism would be justified but for the simple fact that most believers thoroughly reject the twisted interpretation of faith that caused them to act in such brutal ways.

It is also logical and legitimate to question the moral rights of nations to engage in conflicts and all-out war against those deemed dangerous to global security. Focusing only on recent decades one could ask what justified the US (and its allies) to send troops into Iraq, bombs into Libya, drones into Afghanistan and warships into the waters of the Middle East. Many also challenge those that choose to express utter support for The State of Israel. I can understand this challenge intellectually but I surely cannot defend it when most of Israel’s neighbors have vowed to wipe her off the map. Which leads me to ask: what is the essence of that which we are fighting against? Is it a form of government with which we heartily disagree? Is it the collective brutality of a dictatorship? Is it a small faction of citizens we are trying to protect? Or, I ask boldly, is it a religion antithetical to Christian beliefs and values?

Perhaps my thesis on this subject is sophomoric. To put it plainly, how many committed Christians with whom you may worship from week-to-week are likely to strap on a bomb and cause human havoc in the cause and name of Jesus? I would answer this question like this: none. The cause and the name of Jesus are about salvation, forgiveness, redemption, love and peace. The true gospel gives life and life more abundantly. The human havoc caused by an encounter with The Truth does not result in bloody destruction; it results in the beautiful transformation of a human soul.

God

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Sat, 27 Oct 2012 02:35:00 +0000

My favorite contemporary theologian is A. W. Tozer. I say contemporary; he died in 1963. However, in the long arc of Christ’s Church he is as recent as William Coffin, Billy Graham, C. S. Lewis and many others. Tozer made this statement, “"What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”

You may or may not agree but I find it to be an observation both profound and prophetic. What comes into your mind when you think about God? Do you imagine that ancient fellow with a long white beard and robe sitting on a throne? Or perhaps you conjure the image of a young Jewish man walking across dusty roads trying desperately to get the truth across. I suspect some in our midst reflect on the beautiful sanctuary of Woodmont Christian Church and others consider the gentleman standing on the corner selling newspapers. Do you see God in nature, science, music, art, intellect or human relationships? Far be it from me to judge your perceptions.

However, I would like to share my own. When I measure the greatest blessings in my life, these top the list: being born into a loving family that included a devoted Christian mother; learning about and loving God at an early age; meeting, marrying and spending my life with Sarah and our shared joy in raising three lovely rascals. It is this last blessing I wish to lift up.

Who knows what our children say about us in private conversations? “He’s mean, she asks too many questions, he’s a tightwad, she’s selfish or they’re the best parents that ever lived.” I will say this about myself as a father—it is impossible for me to imagine anything that I would not do for the betterment or protection of any of my children. That is not an arrogant comment; I believe every dad and mom reading this will agree. Would you spend every last cent you have (and more) to bring medical care for them when they are ill? Would you run onto an athletic field in the middle of a game when your child went down from an injury? Would you raise Cain with a teacher if he/she treated your child with disrespect? Would you sleep in their tiny bed all night to make sure that the fever didn’t get out of hand? Would you read to them, hug them, wipe their tears away, tie their ties, braid their hair, drive them to soccer practice and dance lessons, bake them birthday cakes, put a quarter under their pillow from the Tooth Ferry, buy them khakis, whisper that you love them for ever and always, hold them so close you think your heart will break, pray for their future and hope upon hope that their lives are good? Yes, I believe you have and you will and you will and you will…

That is my idea of God…and I am His child…and you are, as well.

“And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.” Luke 15:20

Now That I'm a Racist

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Sat, 27 Oct 2012 02:31:00 +0000

I am a white, conservative male in The United States of America, which, according to MSNBC’s Chris Matthews and the-going-out-of-print Newsweek’s Jonathan Alter, makes me a racist.

I never wanted to be, acted as or knew I was a racist until this week. I am 60 years old; why did it take me so long to know this and why did it take two white guys about my age to point this out to me? I am humiliated. I really don’t want to be a racist; it’s an awful thing to be. I don’t want to be a murderer, a psychopath, a drug dealer, a child abuser, an alcoholic, a Satanist, a thief, the antichrist, an arms dealer, a pervert, a porn producer, a woman hater, a welfare basher or a living, breathing, walking, talking demon of hate. I am so sorry.

Should I suggest that Mr. Matthews and Mr. Alter are arrogant, elitist, race-baiting, over-compensated, loud-mouthed, out-of-touch, politically incapable, incompetent, bile-spilling “journalists” I would also be deemed something worse, I suppose—a Republican.

Well, these fellows can spew anything they wish. They are burying themselves in the Great Pit that buries all Liars and throwing the dirt upon themselves. The good news is that they are so impressed with their own minds and tongues that they have no concept of their ineptness. Their current perch upon The Throne of American Journalism will soon be toppled.

Who are these so-called “men?” Was there not a bar of soap in their childhood homes that should’ve been shoved into their deceitful little mouths? Who raised them and why have they turned out to be so loud and so wrong? Yes, if they can accuse me and countless other guys like me, I can ask those questions! I am utterly offended by these across-the-board, generalized and ugly accusations. Why, because I’m a Republican, defensive racist? No, because I’m neither.

The Obvious and Hidden Glitch

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Sat, 26 May 2012 23:25:00 +0000

I’ve had the great joy and privilege of knocking around Nashville’s Music Row for 35 years. I have made dear friends and also experienced hard times. It is the way of the world, not only in the music business but in this life, as well. It used to be that the hard times were, more often than not, traced directly to my own laziness or lack of focus. That is also a universal truth. However, in recent years I contend that there are other reasons for this current and prolonged season of hard times.

This is not a tale of sour grapes. I have loved my time in this great city and have been blessed with lots of wonderful opportunities along the way. I have some regrets: poor decisions, bad timing, spending too much money and putting my professional life on coast from time-to-time. Nonetheless, it’s been a fulfilling experience and I would change very little, except for this: the plummeting caliber of the country song and my suspicion about why this is so.

The grand old truth about Nashville’s enduring success as a music center is not simply generations of wonderful singers and entertainers, The Opry, WSM Radio or The Hall of Fame. The broad shoulders of Nashville’s music industry is music publishing—the companies, both large and small, that own (publish), exploit and collect revenues from the thousands of songs you and I have enjoyed over the past 80+ years. That’s where the real money is. Did Eddy Arnold, Dolly Parton, Roger Miller, Johnny Cash, Garth Brooks and Alabama (to name just a few) make lots of money in their careers? Yes, of course. However, with few exceptions, artists’ incomes cannot compare to the money earned by owning copyrights like “The Gambler,” “Always On My Mind” and “I Will Always Love You” (again, to name just a few).

Perhaps a not-so-subtle question is appropriate here: Where did these songs come from? The answer: everywhere. The songwriters, composers and lyricists that created this remarkable body of work lack definitive description but for one common characteristic: they had the gift—intrinsic, God-endowed and unstoppable. And here is where this tale takes a turn, both sad and despicable. Guess what? It has to do with greed.

The music industry has unraveled and is in, as it were, the tank. There are many reasons, not the least of which is the arrogance of the Big Boys—the (formerly) Big Five corporate giants EMI, WEA, BMG, SONY and UNI that have been compressed and merged, in recent years, into the Big Three, more or less. One extreme managerial conclusion to “stop the bleeding” in the Nashville sector of the music industry was to sign every new recording artist to a contract that includes revenue participation in every conceivable component of their activities: live performance, record sales, merchandise sales (as in t-shirts and bumper sticker) and, yes, you guessed it, their songwriting and publishing efforts. So, it is now incumbent upon any record label executive to manufacture ways to ensure that Johnny-Come-Lately becomes a songwriter. Fiscally wise, culturally abysmal.

Johnny-Come-Lately may be devoid of any inclination or talent to write a song. That doesn’t matter. The bottom line is now in control. Left to his own devices, J-C-L will likely fail at this endeavor, unless, of course, he does have a gift. If he does not have the gift he will sit in a room with a songwriter that does and pretend to participate in the process of composing a song. During this period of time it is likely that he will receive phone calls from his manager, agent, record label, spouse and stylist. He will text with old friends and family members and, if he is paying attention, will make more coffee for the professional songwriter with whom he is not engaged. He may say things like “J-C-L would never say that,” “Are you hungry” or “Is there any way we can mention Skoal in this song? My peeps would really relate to that.”

There you have it. No matter how great or awful the song turns out to be, the executive at the label will demand that it be recorded because, after all, the company will participate in the revenue stream. How small, how unthinking, how culturally demeaning is this circumstance? Take a brief excursion through your musical memory. Yes, there have always been awful songs that have done well. But my goodness, we can do better than this.

Average Joe

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Wed, 16 May 2012 11:54:00 +0000

It is reported this morning that VP Joe Biden will be delivering a speech this afternoon in Youngstown, OH lambasting Mitt Romney’s career as head of Bain Capital. A quote from his prepared remarks (as if he’ll stick to the script) states: “In the 1990s, there was a steel mill in Kansas City, Missouri. It had been in business since 1888. Then Romney and his partners bought the company. Eight years later it went bankrupt. When the company finally filed for bankruptcy, they reneged on their contract with the workers. No health care, lower pensions. Everyone lost their jobs. But not everyone got hurt. The top 30 executives walked away with $9 million. And Romney and his partners walked away with at least $12 million."

Having, myself, grown up in one of America’s great steel towns, I am well aware of the tragedies visited upon that industry—a tragedy rightfully laid at the feet of management, unions and government. The point is, any U.S. steel producer still doing business in the 1990’s sustained their profitability well beyond the industry average.

Nonetheless, this is campaign season and we can expect lots of “glove’s off” parlance in the coming weeks and months. To be fair, what follows is an in-depth, step-by-step analysis of Joe Biden’s history as a productive member of the public sector workforce:

Thank you, Mr. Vice President.

When Bubba's Eyes Are Crying

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 04:16:00 +0000

I’m not sure why the event of Bubba Watson’s victory at Augusta on Easter Sunday has gotten all up inside me. When he hooked that wedge (or whatever iron it was) 30+ yards off those pine needles and onto that evil 10th green, my body left the easy chair. The fact that it stopped so absurdly close to the pin was miraculous. Several tedious minutes later his 2 putts found the cup and he had accomplished something very few human beings have ever done. And that’s when this event took an emotional turn for me and, I suspect, many others.

Bubba Watson is not a country club kid. He is not, in the current despicable parlance of our culture, a product of the 1%. Bubba Watson is a public school kid, an average Joe whose dad was military and whose mom was determined to keep the family on track. He was not privileged to everyday golf lessons at a well-groomed, gated facility in the exclusive parts of Florida. In fact, he never had a lesson. This sets him apart from so many we have come to understand as “The Golf Set” in America. Surely this is part of the story. Bubba’s is an unorthodox game with a swing that seems to change dramatically based on the end result he desires. He can move the ball in any direction quite significantly: towering fades, low hooks and the occasional, dreaded straight ball. He is not unique in this ability but he demonstrates it regularly and with little fanfare. He putts well (or he would not be wearing a green jacket) and his on-course demeanor is easy on the eye. Significant immediately following his victory was the number of other players that were there to greet him at the end of the round. When do you remember seeing that happen during a regular tour event, let alone The Masters? (Of course, I didn’t see Mickelson or Woods there). That speaks volumes about Bubba’s personality. His peers, comrades and competitors hold him in high esteem. But enough of that. When he sank that mini-putt and captured The Masters’ Championship he was overcome with emotion. Far be it from me to analyze what was going through his mind. Memories of his father, thoughts of his brand new child, love for his wife and mother, friendships, the journey, his pals? Yes, I suspect all of this and more. But hell, for a sport so veiled in propriety, so intensely focused on the individual, so steeped in tradition, so buttoned-down and exclusive, this was a most refreshing turn of events. When I saw—and the world saw—what this meant to this man, I wept with him. When I forced myself to weather the arrogant storms of Piers Morgan just to see Bubba again, I wept with him. When I walked through the minefield of the absurdly-hard-to-watch “Morning Joe” just to see Bubba, I cried with him. It’s funny, I never became emotional watching Nicklaus, Mickelson, Woods, Miller, Player, Strange, Faldo, Crenshaw, Love or most of the other masters of the game. They seemed distant to me, as if they had spent far too much time on the range working on every detail, every angle and every subtle inch. Not so with Bubba Watson. This guy is playing golf—a game he learned on his own—and having fun, honoring those he loves and…winning with tears in his eyes. That’s a man in my book.

Politics

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 02:23:00 +0000

I simply have no more tolerance for politics. I will vote when I have the legal right and privilege to do so. But I can no longer follow nor engage in the cesspool local, state and federal politics has become. It is an affront to my concept of decency, a mockery of human intellect and the biggest and worst reality show in the history of humankind. Count me out…except for my vote.

The good citizens of The United States of America deserve so much better on all levels. First, why do we have to vote for one of two candidates that are both terribly distasteful to our sense of excellence? Second, why does the media find it necessary to uncover any and every speck of impropriety in the lives of every candidate? Third, why have we become so complacent about trash talk between the parties? Fourth, when and how did our two primary parties lose any and every sense of decency and decorum? Fifth, why is there not one politician with the courage to step up and tell the truth about debt, monetary policy, immigration, taxation and all other manner of difficult issues without getting creamed by his/her colleagues (on both sides of the aisle), constituents or the media? Six, why does the so-called media circus continue in which Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Rachel Madddow, Chris Matthews, Fareed Zakarias, MSNBC, FOX, CNN and other slanted “news organizations” have a death grip on the delivery of “news.” (This is not news; this is political commentary, in MHO). Seven, why does disagreeing with policy mark an individual as a leftist, bigot, racist, homophobe, atheist, Christian, extremist, etc.? Eight, what ill-conceived tax policy or budget is going to get our beloved country out of the debt we are in and why do those we have elected keep raising the debt ceiling while we sit idly by and tank our country and our children? Nine, no president, senator or congressman—regardless of party or philosophy--will be able to contain the anger that will rise up from the citizens of this once-great-country. Ten, I will vote…and pray. “He’s got the whole world in His hands.”

The Houston Chronicles

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 03:35:00 +0000

Ours is a culture on life support. If I knew where the plug was, I’d consider pulling it.

Personally, I’ve never been a fan of highly produced pop music but I think Whitney Houston possessed one of the purest vocal instruments I’ve ever heard. Of course, I am not alone in that assessment: a quick perusal of easily accessible RIAA data will confirm that Ms. Houston had millions of record buying fans. Her recordings will sell for decades and beyond. This is as it should be. Her talents moved us.

There is other data relevant to this post that is not so easily accessible. I wish it were. For instance, for the purposes of the point I am hoping to make, it would be good to know how many anonymous individuals met their tragic end this past Saturday. Or, how many children were left motherless. Or, how many in our military were killed in an undeclared and senseless war. Or how many police personnel died in the act of busting a drug ring or responding to a domestic violence call. Or, how many otherwise gifted and capable human beings succumbed to addiction, anxiety and depression. Certainly these numbers would be in the hundreds or thousands. We don’t know these people, we do not honor them, we do not celebrate them and no celebrities tweet endlessly about the tremendous impact they had on their lives. They are the silent ones. Yes, many hearts are aching because of these losses but they are private acts of mourning. Again, this is as it should be.

The deeply gifted, Ms. Houston, was discovered immersed and unconscious in a bathtub at The Beverly Hilton Hotel, just hours before her scheduled appearance at the annual Clive Davis pre-Grammy Awards Dinner. Sadly, in the ensuing hours, she was pronounced dead. For the moment, we are left to speculate about the cause of her demise.

The very tragic, very methodical and very public unraveling of Whitney Houston’s life and career have led many to the conclusion that her demons could not be contained. What and/or who were those demons? I have no idea. Perhaps their name was Legion. But this much is true: talent, fame, prosperity, celebrity, Bobby Brown, Clive Davis and millions of adoring fans could not keep those demons at bay. This is a tale as old as time but a lesson we refuse to learn. In the wake of this great tragedy, we choose not to stare into its reality and call it what it is: madness. No, we choose to marvel at Ms. Houston’s gifts, praise her success, lift her up and celebrate her life. Okay, fair enough. But please, let’s not make her a heroine or an icon. If Whitney Houston is to be an example, she is, at least in part, an example of terrible choices, reckless living, excess and ingratitude. Yes, those are harsh words, but this is a harsh event on display for all eyes to see, young, old and in between.

What is the final message she left behind? Indeed, what is the legacy of Whitney Houston? Well, that is not mine to say. Yes, there was the stunningly beautiful, musically unparalleled, easy-to-adore and articulate superstar. And there was also the emaciated, high-as-a-kite, lip-bloodied, multi-rehabilitated, very human being. It is now being reported that the last song she sang was, “Jesus Loves Me.”

This, I know.

Why You Should Donate to The Salvation Army Bell Ringers

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 15:29:00 +0000

Once again this year, a boycott of The Salvation Army (hereafter The SA), is being widely promoted by a coalition of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender individuals and organizations. It seems that the leading voice in this effort is a gentleman named Bil Browning, via his web site, “The Bilerico Project.” His post is entitled “Why You Shouldn’t Donate to the Salvation Army Bellringers.”

I have zero issues with Mr. Browning’s efforts to grandstand this boycott. On the other hand, I have zero issues with the postures held and decisions made by The SA in this regard. Mr. Browning cites a number of specific incidents, dating back to 1986, in which The SA became actively involved in the politics of sexuality. According to Mr. Browning’s post (and I have no reason to doubt or dispute his report), The SA worked on many levels, and in many global jurisdictions, to fight against legislation that recognized and/or promoted the homosexual lifestyle. Although these activities may seem egregious to many, we would be wise to remember a few things.

The SA is a church. It may well be a church that holds beliefs and promotes ideologies with which you heartily disagree; nonetheless, it is still a church and churches generally function in our diverse cultures without compromising their doctrines. Clearly, The SA’s doctrines include a Biblical interpretation that considers homosexuality inappropriate; yes, even sinful. This posture places The SA on par with a vast number of global denominations and their members. This does not make them right; it simply means their views are not unique and their practices not solitary. And the question follows: why the singular and determined focus on The SA?

Secondly, Mr. Browning’s Boycott seems unmoved by dismissing over 150 years of good works. Directly involved in feeding, clothing and sheltering the poor and dispossessed since its inception in the 2^nd half of the 19^th century, The SA has evolved into a mission that also fights human trafficking, pornography and abuse and assists prisoners and their families, the elderly, intercity youth and many more. Their home page:

http://www.salvationarmyusa.org/usn/www_usn_2.nsf/vw-local/Home. The attitude of “they offended me so I’m going to tear them down despite any good they’ve done” is short sighted, self-centered and embarrassingly childish. If each of us dismissed every person and institution that offended us, no one would be talking to anyone. (Perhaps this is where our society is headed.)

Mr. Browning ends his article with a short list of alternative organizations to which we could donate. Included on that list are Goodwill, The Red Cross, Habitat For Humanity and Doctors Without Borders. Good for him. However, “The Huffington Post,” reporting on Browning’s Boycott, ended an article with the following paragraph:

Andy Thayer, co-founder of the Gay Liberation Network, was similarly critical of the Salvation Army's stance, noting, "If a racist organization was trying to collect money with the message that some of the money was going towards doing good, would you support them? I would hope not." He went on to suggest people would be better served by donating to more pro-LGBT organizations such as the Howard Brown Health Center, the American Red Cross, or The Trevor Project.

The Howard Brown Project’s Mission Statement, as culled from their web site, states: “Howard Brown exists to eliminate the disparities in health care experienced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people through research, education and the provision of services that promote health and wellness…” The Trevor Project promotes itself with the following blurb from its web site: “The Trevor Project is the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and questioning youth.” Good causes. Please give to them if you are so moved. I would simply point out that The Howard Brown Project and The Trevor Project outwardly claim to serve their own and make no mention of helping the poor, the homeless, the disenfranchised, the abused, the elderly, prisoners and their families, prostitutes, drug addicts, alcoholics, the destitute, etc.

Our society has become more twisted than any bizarre projections I heard as a young person. We are more centered on the mysterious and damnable “self” than ever before. I suspect few citizens are aware of this mini-uprising and fewer still interested in participating. At its core we perceive it to be antithetical to the Spirit of Christmas. I fully acknowledge there are young people struggling with sexual identity. God forbid that any of their stories end up like the heartbreaking tragedy of Tyler Clementi. It is good to know there are organizations available to guide them through their conflicts and God bless those doing that good work and supporting it. But please do not discount The Salvation Army; they are serving “the least of these.”

Merry Christmas!

Anger In the Mirror

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Sat, 26 Nov 2011 16:32:00 +0000

In our quiet and typical moments we glide through mundane days and weeks with little discomfort. The internal issues warring inside us are detached from our conscious state and cause us no particular anguish. Our lives may not be soaring in the clouds but neither are we groveling in the depths of despair. Then, inevitably, something occurs that unsettles the peace and there we are, face-to-face with an ill-defined demon, armed with little else than our own dull swords of cowardice and blame.

I had one of those moments this week and I hope it has changed me forever. This unsettling event shone a great light into my darkness—a formidable black box located somewhere in my mind, heart and/or soul. I suspect any honest individual will admit to harboring their peculiar pack of demons. We humans are experts in the field of demon keeping: we know our demons well, have raised them from pups, have fed them as needed and, for the most part, can name them, one by one. I’m not going to name all the members of my secret flock here; that would be ugly, shameful and read too much like a maniac’s confessional. But I will name one because he is legion: Anger.

I’ve encountered lots of angry people in my life; as it has been said, “It takes one to know one.” Some people seem to exist in a state of perpetual anger and live a life dictated by it. They tend to be monosyllabic, uninterested and anti-social. I don’t fall into that category. Generally speaking, I conduct myself in a congenial manner and I sincerely enjoy the company of others, doing my best to treat people with respect and honor. However, once in a while my little demon will rise up, break out of its cage and overpower every device I have conjured to keep it at bay. It arrives unexpectedly and responds to specific life encounters that cause it to rage. In an eager attempt to keep my anger behind the scenes, I have been tracking the circumstances of its appearance. For the fascination of anyone reading this, I present this brief report. I cannot tolerate arrogance or stubbornness, especially in the areas of politics, social issues or religion. That’s about it; then again, that’s about everything.

In The Age of The Internet we have the opportunity to be bombarded with arrogance and stubbornness minute-by-minute. Social media sites thrive on the exchange of ideas, opinions and self-promotion. For reasons I cannot explain, I am often incapable of turning away from arrogant, this-is-the-way-it-is opinions so often expressed in these portals. Occasionally I become enraged and find myself heartlessly engaged in equally arrogant responses. This is unhealthy, at best, and exceedingly unsettling. I have pledged to stop. Nonetheless, this new pledge is on the heels of a mini-tirade I blasted off to an offender a few nights ago (ironically, it was on the Eve of Thanksgiving.) Rather than “counting my blessings” I was intent on humiliating a stranger and removing his right of opinion and expression. (The only decent thing about it is that I had the wisdom to send my tirade to his private e-mail address rather than posting it for the world to see.) The next morning I opened my e-mail and read his simple response: “And Happy Thanksgiving to you, too!” I was appalled, ashamed and duly kicked in the gut. I wrote him a brief apology and have not—and suspect, will not—receive any further response.

Where the hell does this anger come from? Well, I’m pretty sure I know: it was a singular event that I never processed adequately, an event of unacknowledged grief. And so, the question now, is this: can such a well-formed demon be defeated after years of tyrannical rule? I am very ready to do battle, but time will tell if I have the courage to fight it out in the trenches. However, there is one thing I know: I’d much rather bear the scars of this very private war than ever turn my anger on another fellow traveler, again.

Joe PA

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 04:58:00 +0000

I am a Pennsylvania boy with tears in my eyes, outrage in my mind and confusion in my heart. Joe PA is gone and from what I’ve read, heard and seen these past few days, this is the appropriate outcome. Nonetheless, where the hell do we place this in the catalog of horrible decisions and an otherwise remarkable, untarnished career?

One despicable pervert, of course, is the underlying culprit in all of this. His unspeakable actions have caused the unimaginable heartache of countless young men and their families. Justice must be served to this ugly perpetrator and mercy and healing, somehow, to his innocent victims. How this happens is yet to be determined. I trust it will happen swiftly.For these young victims, I hope they come to understand that the citizens of this country fully comprehend that your innocence was violated. Find ways to remove the shame that you may be suffering and know we are on your side. We may not have had the same experiences, but we all have our own, deep shame. Come join us in the healing.
As for Joe Paterno, this is another tragedy. I am not suggesting this is a greater tragedy than visited upon Sandusky’s victims. Joe’s lack of judgment may go down in history as a flagrant violation of his own ethical standards. It has certainly ended and forever tarnished an otherwise stellar record: that is my confusion; at least for the moment. Give us PA folks a little time to process losing a guy that meant so much to us.

Hall of Fame Induction - Thank you...

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 03:34:00 +0000

Several individuals have requested that I post the comments I offered at the 2011 Nashville Songwriters Foundation's Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony. And so, with appreciation to so many, I do.

I am honored to be part of this community of songwriters in Nashville, TN. I am not referring to the astonishing event of my inclusion into this Hall of Fame – I don’t think that will ever sink in. I am talking about you: to have been able to walk the streets with you, share jokes, write songs, rejoice in the success of friends, sing harmonies together, work toward the common good and take great pride in the fact that this is the greatest songwriting community on God’s Green Earth – that is the true honor you have bestowed upon me. Not tonight – but for 35 years. Thank you for setting me a place at your lovely table.

I am most grateful to Don Schlitz for taking on the challenge of making me sound worthy of this honor. And to Fred, Tony, Jellyroll and Lacy for breathing life into those humble folk songs. They sound pretty good when I’m not singing them.

On some forgotten evening during my blurry college years in Philadelphia, I picked up my gut string guitar and started writing songs – really bad, self-indulgent, remarkably dull, long, shitty songs. My ego allowed this to continue, unchecked. Some days I would write 3 or 4 of these hideous compositions. Of course, it wasn’t enough that I had convinced myself I was good at this. Soon the night arrived when I took my guitar to a party and shared some of this dreck with my friends. The next time I showed up at a party I overheard someone say, ‘Oh shit, here comes Schuyler and he’s got his guitar.’ (Actually, I heard that at The Bluebird Café’ 2 nights ago.)

So yes, somewhere in my distant past there is a catalog of about 300 songs that no one should or ever will hear again. And yes, 40 years later, every time I sit down anew to try to make something up, it is likely that I will compose something that no one should or ever will hear again. But I wouldn’t trade those hundreds of failed attempts for anything; those were the stepping stones; that is how I worked my way through to a few moments when I recognized the power of a good idea and found the focus to create a few modest songs that, because of your kindness, invited me onto this stage to join such a profound group of gifted men and women. Yes, I am truly honored.

This honor, of course, I lay at the feet of so many that have shared this journey with me. And if my words amount to little else tonight, I so wish them to be a love letter to these dear companions. So I gratefully share this honor by saying:

Dear Nashville, TN: Thank you for receiving so many poets from all over the world and making them feel at home. Thank you for providing such a fine city in which to buy a home, raise a family and make a living.

Dear Jim: Thank you for your encouraging words and the example you and Toni set for all of us.

Dear Keni: Thank you for discovering that reel-to-reel tape on the kitchen table next to my lunch pale.

Dear Even: Thank you for your wisdom, humor, kindness, generosity, enthusiasm and lifelong friendship. You should have preceded me into this Hall of Fame by many years. I will continue to work on that.

Dear Jim: Sarah and I and our children are ever indebted to you for adopting us into the DebDave family. Our affection for you is unparalleled.

Dear Paul: Thank you for sharing your remarkable talent with me and for all the laughs we had in the process. We were an odd couple but what we accomplished together were the rare moments when 1+1 equaled 1.

Dear Robin: Given your diminutive stature I was surprised that you were from Texas. Nonetheless, I loved you the minute you walked through the doors of 1214 16th Avenue. Big, tall PA kisses to you.

Dear Frances, Del, Jody, Mark, Ima and the entire BMI family: Thank you for your unwavering support across these many years. You have been faithful to me and it has meant a lot.

Dear Adele & Dan, Jackie, Kirsten & Diane: Things change, but not what your friendships mean to Sarah and me. We could never have made it without you.

Dear Nancy & Wayland: What a blessing it has been to watch our children grow up together, to share songs, meals and golf. Your family is dear to us.

Dear Linda & Layng: There is a beautifully powerful adage credited to St. Francis of Assisi that reads, “Preach The Gospel and, if necessary, use words.” That has always reminded me of the two of you.

Dear Harlan: You never had to talk to me or any other juveniles in this town; but you did.

Dear Amy: Can I ever thank you enough for allowing me into your club and onto your stage? You, The Bluebird Café’ and all the wonderful human beings who worked that floor over the years offered so many a respectful platform. You are my hero. Dear Eileen & Craig: The best work I’ve ever done as a songwriter was having the privilege of writing words to your astonishing melodies, Craig. However, the best things I’ve witnessed as a father was watching the two of you care for, love, embrace, fight for and raise your beautiful children. Jake Bickhardt is one of my favorite songs.

Dear Susan & Mike: One day we’ll share that evening together, just the four of us, and talk about it all. In the meantime we will cherish our friendships with you.

Dear Karen & David: Simply want you to know how very much you mean to Sarah and me and how deeply connected you are to this moment.

Dear Norro: For a talented veteran to have taken the time to give me a passing moment is astonishing. That you shared so much of your humor and wisdom is extraordinary.

Dear Shirley & Roger: Few have ever reached out to us so completely. Roger, you are my mentor, my companion and still the only guy who makes me laugh so hard that milk or gin runs out of my nose. (The gin burns.)

Dear Phran & Joe: Thank you for your faith in me and for the kindnesses you always extended to Sarah and our family.

Dear Mary Jo & Jellyroll, Jamie & Tony: Thank you for allowing me to drag my suspect talent onto so many stages with you. Your talents are unsurpassed and your friendships are lovely gifts.

Dear Kirke & Margie: There’s nothing we can do about our spouse’s family members. When Sarah and I got married I never expected that her cousin and her cousin’s husband would become our dearest pals. What a beautiful bonus.

Dear Dennis, Beverly and Richard: Few privileges in life compare to being your little brother. I love you dearly.

Dear Fred: Through the booze, the butts, the buses, the tunes, the trials, the tears, the laughs, the losses and the lingering hope you, more than anyone, have remained consistent. We have been transformed from reluctant strangers to brothers. Thank you for being both on and by my side for all these years.

Dear Don: Thank you for having a big head so I don’t stand out in a crowd. Oh, by the way, a funnier, kinder, more gifted, dependable, generous, interesting, caring and concerned BFF does not exist on the earth.

Dear Tallu & Robbie, Roy & Luke: For your mother and me there is no greater treasure than you.

Dear Mom & Dad: You have no idea how much I wish you were here.

Dear Sarah: To have shared these joys with you is the one thing I hold true. “I’m on your side, forever.”

So I’ll cherish The Old Rugged Cross Till my trophies at last I lay down… God Bless you.

Life On Ice

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 23:14:00 +0000

I will participate in something very sad tomorrow: a memorial service for a gentle, humble and presumably happy young husband, father and professional athlete – Wade Belat: NHL hockey player with a beautiful family, a bright future and an impressive 14-year career. The details of his demise are still sketchy but indications suggest he may have taken his own life. If this, indeed, turns out to be the reality it is very important, for reasons that should be exceedingly obvious.

I have come to believe that suicide is the end result of a disease we struggle to comprehend or accept. Yet, few of us have escaped its ravages within our own families and/or circle of friends. Yes, it is dark, mysterious and otherworldly but it is also real. It ends life just like cancer, heart attack, leukemia, kidney failure, Lupus and other diseases. But it remains foreign to those of us who, but for the grace of God, have not wandered into the shadowy canyons of despair, depression and hopelessness.

In my younger years suicide caused me to be very angry toward the perpetrator-victim. How dare they leave this awful, embarrassing mess behind? Couldn’t you pull it together and realize that people love you and need you? What a selfish thing you’ve done. Look at us – those who loved you. We are riddled with grief and anger. Well, I have changed my tune. When it strikes closer to home than one would ever wish there is a new and gentler conclusion. Is it ugly and terribly horrifying? Yes, indeed, that doesn’t change. Is it something to be treated in some special spiritual manner? No. It is part of the circle of life – perhaps a part we have yet to embrace in any appropriate way. But I believe we must be gentle in these moments; forgiving, arms wide open. I am confident God knows the circumstances and God is All Loving.

Finally, back to the important, earthly reasons. The NHL, NFL, MLB and NCAA need to get upfront about these health issues. People are dying because of the brutality of sport. Please regulate this stuff. Are we as a people so bent on the profit of violence that we need Enforcers on every NHL team? Must we have brawls in every 3rd MLB baseball game? Should we be honoring the ‘hardest-hitting linebacker in the SEC? Sport, in its purest form, is about speed, hand-eye coordination, accuracy, elegance, balance and a host of God-given abilities. Leave the bullshit to the WWF and roller derby.

I will participate in something very sad tomorrow: something that should never have happened. But it did. Rest in peace, Wade Belat. And may the God of Lights watch over those you left behind. Amen.

What My Dad Missed

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 22:18:00 +0000

My dad died of lung cancer in February 1969. He had just turned 48. I was 16. I have often wondered how he may have responded to some of the people in the news and events that have transpired over the ensuing decades. I believe I knew him well enough to make some suggestions. Here’s a list with occasional commentary:
1. The First Moon Landing
2. The Watergate Scandal – I’m certain he voted for Nixon and this would have broken his heart but he probably would not have admitted it.
3. The End of the Vietnam War – As an U.S. Army veteran I’m sure he would have been very happy with this. My hunch is that he would have editorialized a bit (I paraphrase: ‘Democrats had to get their noses in this, The Texan had to escalate it and a Republican no one likes got us out. Huntley and Brinkley won’t be reporting it this way.’)
4. Black Sabbath – Given his initial response to the comparatively tame Beatles, I’m pretty sure dear, old dad would have wanted to kill them.
5. The Presidency of Jimmy Carter – May have caused him to use the F-word for the first time in my presence.
6. The Demise of Bethlehem Steel – As a lifelong employee in the management area he would have been angry, embittered, arguing loudly with his dear brother – Uncle Tommy (a dedicated USW member) – and devastated by the end of a 100+ year industry. Damn the government, damn the foreign dumping, where did my pension go?
7. Meeting Sarah, my Beloved Wife – I know he would have loved her and her family. They never met.
8. Meeting Tallu, my daughter and our first-born – Tallu would have been my dad’s 8th grandchild and 5th granddaughter. I saw him in action as Granddad. He was really good at it. This would have been another most appropriate love affair.
9. AIDS – My dad could be pretty grumpy as he spent the 2nd half of his life sober and dedicated to AA. Nonetheless, he seemed to have a remarkable compassion for those in need. I reserve any further comments.
10. Meeting Thomas Roy - his 9th grandchild, 4th grandson and namesake – I can only imagine the Roy Joy.
11. Attending the CMA Awards – I know he would have gone to support me but he would have preferred that Benny Goodman was performing rather than Alabama. He hated country music.
12. Michael Jackson – No comment.
13. Iran-Contra – No comment.
14. Meeting Howard Luke – his 10th grandchild and 5th grandson. He would have been 67 with a huge grin and that wonderful gap between his two front teeth! (My secret exposed.)
15. George H. W. Bush – Is this the best we’ve got? Okay.
16. O. J. Simpson – ‘Guilty.’
17. Desert Storm – ‘Nicely done, boys!’
18. Bill Clinton – No comment.
19. Snoop-Dogg – ‘Turn that shit off! It sounds like I’m in Hell! ‘ 20. 9/11 – ‘Find those sons-of-bitches and make them suffer.’
21. Seeing His Beloved Like This
22. Walking His Beloved Down the Aisle at Tallu’s Wedding

And what did I miss all these years? My Old Man.

Hope and Change: A View From the Right

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 15:05:00 +0000

For socially and politically conservative U. S. citizens the current crop of Republican presidential contenders is ill defined and weak. Those waiting in the wings – governors Rick Perry and Chris Christie – will not necessarily change this status. The perceived leader in the race – Mitt Romney – seems to me to be the least likely to actually win a national election against anyone. He represents more of the same old tired rhetoric with a handsome face, a tailored suit and a wad of cash. And with all due respect I am doubtful that the body politic is yet willing to elect a Mormon to the highest political office in our land. I recall the dark cloak that surrounded JFK in 1960 because of his Catholicism. Yes, he won a very close race against Richard Nixon but the Catholic issue – rightly on wrongly – was a palpable factor in that election. I predict the Mormon issue will be a prominent issue – in a negative way – for Governor Romney; to such a degree that I’ll bet he won’t make it through the primaries.

However, there is one candidate that makes sense and speaks sense: Representative Ron Paul (R-TX.) The question: is he electable? Once again, there is history and it is, sadly, not on his side. I refer, of course, to Senator Barry Goldwater (R-AZ) in 1964. Goldwater suffered a crushing defeat in his presidential bid against his incumbent rival, Lyndon Johnson. He only garnered about 38% of the national popular vote and carried only 6 states – his home state of Arizona (by a very slim margin) and 5 states that traditionally make up the ‘deep south.’ He was much more a libertarian than a run-of-the-mill Republican. Goldwater fought against unions, championed states rights, tried to bring down FDR’s welfare state, rallied against The United Nations and voted against The Civil Rights Act – not because of its goals but because it mandated federal jurisdiction and interference in both state and personal decision-making. He was very much an anti-Communist and also perceived to be a military ‘hawk’ during our early years in Vietnam. Notwithstanding his devastating defeat against Johnson in his presidential campaign, Goldwater is still considered a brilliant thinker, a conservative standard bearer and a clearly defined, unwavering politician. He did not mince words; he did not lie; he did not marginalize his position.

And now we have Rep. Ron Paul; not exactly a parallel story, but similar. Here is one extreme and misunderstood example of Pauls’ political posture: he wants to immediately end every war in which the U. S. is currently involved. He does this for 3 fundamental reasons: why are we meddling in the affairs of other sovereign governments; why are we losing American lives in the process and why are we spending so much money doing so? Is this radical? Is this right wing? Is this unacceptable? Is the posture of ending all current wars an unelectable political stance?

Another extreme example of Ron Pauls’ extreme message: The Federal Reserve has ravaged (and will ultimately ruin) our economy, our wealth and our country; it should be dismantled. Is this radical? Is this right wing extremism? Is this unacceptable? Is the posture of exposing a protected, mysterious and ruinous organization that has systematically destroyed our freedom an unelectable political stance?

Rep. Paul (much like Goldwater) seldom involves himself in the polarizing debates over the social issues of our day. His is a posture of individual freedom. Extreme? Unelectable?

What nobody heard (or what the media and other politicians chose not to hear) during this debt ceiling debacle was Paul’s simple reasoning (I paraphrase:) Freeze spending at current rates for 10 years and the debt problem fixes itself; no bizarre calculations; no rabbits out of the hat; no cards up the sleeve; no line item bickering; no pork, etc. Extreme? Unelectable?

When we refuse to listen to the truth because of its packaging or branding the debate becomes flat-lined (business as usual.) Give this guy a chance: he is down to earth, a bit unusual, wonderfully refreshing and logical. Sadly, in our selfish, angry and devolved society these may be his biggest flaws.

The Glass Debt Ceiling

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Tue, 21 Jun 2011 14:26:00 +0000

An old man was on his deathbed following 30 years of failing health. Throughout his steady regression no doctor, medicine, witchcraft, health food, exercise, prayer, money or love could restore him. He simply slipped further and further into ill health. And now here he was: old, tired, burdened, weaker than ever and unable to care for himself.

His family gathered ‘round him one afternoon in a solemn effort to make some very difficult decisions. The inevitability of this moment had weighed upon them for a long time but they each found ways to avoid it. Now the time had come and something had to be done. They had two choices and they were both distasteful: prolong the agony or pull the plug and see what happens. The old man had grown so weak he was unaware of the circumstances. From his perspective the shadowy figures standing in his room may very well have been strangers, enemies, foreigners or even people that wished to do him further harm.

The End

. . . . . .

Glass ceiling has a bad image. At this time in the history of our beloved country I wish I could change that. It would be good to see the consequences of the conclusions our most inept politicians make in early August regarding our government’s ability to borrow more money. Many claim to know the calamity that will surely and immediately follow a decision to keep the debt ceiling where it is. Others seem to be willing to take the risk and escalate the inevitable. I, for one, have no blooming idea. I will say this: Timothy Geithner and Ben Bernanke belong to the Calamity Group (this is appropriate on many levels) and I have witnessed them fail at every turn. If our politicians set new and higher limits on our borrowing ability you can rest assured that Old Ben will have the printing presses fired up within seconds of the vote. More fake money, more real debt.

My hunch is this: ‘His family gathered ‘round him one afternoon in a solemn effort to make some very difficult decisions. The inevitability of this moment had weighed upon them for a long time but they each found ways to avoid it. By the end of the day they had each found another way to avoid it.

'Quiet, please.'

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Tue, 21 Jun 2011 03:10:00 +0000

I watched most of The U. S. Open Golf Championship with my son, Roy, over the past 4 days. If you watched or read about the tournament you know that some great golf was on display and one young man, Rory McIlroy, ended up the runaway victor breaking many records during his remarkable stroll around Congressional Country Club in Bethesda, MD. Yes, the play was stellar. The coverage, on the other hand, was awful, just awful. Were it not for Johnny Miller - his observations and complete understanding of and respect for the game – the daily coverage could have been viewed with the mute button engaged on the remote. Surely Andy North and Paul Azinger added professional and educated commentaries before and after the hole-by-hole coverage. Everything else about it was boring, repetitive, opinionated, unnecessary, over-the-top, aggravating, boring and repetitive. ESPN and NBC were the co-conspirators in this drivel they passed off as sports coverage.

I suppose the least egregious – other than Miller’s unique perspectives – would be the hole-by-hole announcers. Across the board they are former players with big-time playing experience and, for the most part, they offer interesting and accurate commentary on specific shots and situations. My favorite of these reporters, by far, was Roger Maltbie because of his ease in communication and common sense. My least favorite in this category include Curtis Strange and Peter Jacobsen – the former is stodgy and dry while the latter tries too hard to be funny with little or no success. The balance of the on-course reporters were, as usual, stationed on the same tees, fairways and greens throughout the entire 72 holes resulting in monotonous banter like, ‘The fairway cants right to left’ or ‘You simply can’t go at this pin’ or ‘The smart play off the tee is a fairway metal.’ They also cow-towed to every question and remark served up to them by Prince Miller: ‘Yes Kimo Sabe.’ Pathetic.

Perhaps more maddening were the special interest cutaways to people like Bob Costas, Jimmy Roberts and Tim Rosaforte. These men and these segments should be banned from all future telecasts. It feels to me like I’m being forced to watch the talent portion of a Miss America contest or a rerun of The Galloping Gourmet. Few of us wish to know background stories on these players – especially the little fairytales about kids who grew up playing golf everyday at a country club. Yes, there are some very compelling stories and that’s all good. But how many times in 4 days (not to mention every weekend since The Masters) did we have to suffer through McIlroy’s wash out in Augusta? How many times did we need to be reminded that Poor Leftie has yet to win an Open? Who really cared how many presidents were members of Congressional? How many times on Sunday were we made to feel as if our own fathers were no-count pimps compared to the oh-so-special relationships between these golfers and their dads? Zip it, guys. Just zip it.

Finally, there is Chris Berman. 30 years later and I still can’t stand this guy. He should never be allowed near a sporting event, a television or a microphone, again. I long for the day when I can write – Finally, there is no Chris Berman.

On the other hand – I hope Young Rory is around for a long, long time!

The Internet and The Music Industry, Part I

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 20:23:00 +0000

My good friend, JF, recently pointed me to a few articles on the Internet speculating that Google, Inc. – and/or other large Internet and computer-based corporations – has so tired of negotiating fruitlessly with record labels that they have entertained the notion of ‘buying the music industry.’ I include the quotation marks around that last phrase for a reason: this is a quote from one of the reports. This is beyond simplistic; indeed, it is uninformed; no, it’s stupid.

The music industry consists of layer upon layer, decade after decade of complexity in which record labels represent but one (albeit significant) sector of the whole. The challenges faced by Google, Amazon, Apple and all other Net-focused companies negotiating with ‘the record labels’ are mere skirmishes. Wait till they go up against the music publishers, songwriters, musicians, managers, agents, venue owners, royalty representatives, performing rights organizations and other license and rights’ holders.

It is understandable that a journalist reporting on a music industry story would wrongly misappropriate the moniker ‘record labels’ for ‘music industry.’ When the average consumer thinks about music they likely ponder their favorite artists, songs or live shows. When the average consumer gets pissed off at the music industry (paying too much for a CD, a rancid collection of songs on a new project, poor sound quality, a regurgitated ‘Best Of’ release) they likely imagine the greedy bastards running the record labels. Some of these reactions are justified but many are misguided. Indeed, record labels (and for the moment I use that phrase to represent the Big 5: EMI, Universal, SONY, Warner Brothers and sometimes BMG) function as the hub of the wheel in the music industry. At various points in the process they interact with – and even represent – the music publishers, artists, managers, booking agents and – for the most part – all other factions of the industry. But they have little, if any final authority over any of these entities. So, let’s move beyond the idea that ‘the record labels’ represent the final frontier in difficult negotiations faced by these potential buyers of ‘the music industry.’

I suppose the next of many related issues is the true value of that which would be purchased. It is almost impossible to place a dollar value on ‘the music industry.’ The most current, unbiased and accurate statistics I could find today suggest that the total revenue generated by all aspects of the industry in 2010 was $68 billion worldwide. Roll that number out over 4 years with modest growth estimates and you come pretty close to $300 billion. Just for grins let’s use that number as fair value for such a transaction. Here are the current market caps for the companies suggested as possible suitors for this global business: Apple: 291B; Google: 156B; Amazon: $85B; eBay: 37B. The combined market cap of these 4 behemoths is $569B – less than twice the suggested value of the global music industry. (Facebook is estimated to be worth $50B and plans are being made to take it public. How would you like ‘the music industry’ to be run by Mark Zuckerberg? Would that make things better? Is he a good guy?)

And finally, to end Part I of this tirade, I choose to share a few personal conclusions about the music industry as I have known it and experienced it in my lifetime. The major label model began crumbling in the 1980’s, probably before. It needed to crumble: decades of arrogance, huge salaries, absurd artist advances, really bad music and apathy were the large contributors. And yes, it is proving to be a long, slow death. Here’s more bad news: when the patient is finally pronounced dead the reading of the will is going to take at least as long as the lengthy death, probably longer. Each of its myriad sectors has millions of hands and eyes, claims and rights; they shall not go away quickly or easily. Best wishes to the lucky new owner(s.) If anyone reads this and truly believes that a little tape copying here and a little file sharing there had no impact on this industry’s demise – you are ignorant, uninformed and naïve. (As a professional songwriter I can only suggest that you teachers, doctors, CEO’s, truckers, firemen and accountants slash your income in half 3 times over the next 15 years.) And there’s one more bit of very significant information that speaks to the heart of this matter: 2 major Grammy Award Winners from 2010 (Arcade Fire and Esperanza Spalding) were signed to record labels – independent record labels! The natural processes have long been in the works – a new era has already begun. Let's allow it to happen...

Hell in a Hand Basket

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 18:08:00 +0000

I recently attended an all-day retreat with the ministerial staff of my church. As prompted by a document prepared by our senior minister we each shared responses to questions regarding our core beliefs, the future of The Church and our personal and professional goals for the coming year. One of the questions urged us toward a view of humankind – where are we headed?

The answers that rolled forth were marginally varied but all very positive - until it got to me. My response was, ‘We’re going to hell in a hand basket.’ These folks know me well so this answer did not really surprise them. They responded with mock groans and comments that chided me for being so negative and pessimistic. They know me as a happy-go-lucky guy so these friends and colleagues are always surprised that I hold such a fatal view of our human destination. As much as I love, respect and admire these colleagues I find their ‘faith in humankind’ postures astonishing on at least 3 levels: logical, intellectual and scriptural.

Soon after this time of sharing we took a break for lunch. I invited anyone present who wished to speak with me about my global pessimism to grab a sandwich, a Bible and the front section of any newspaper and join me for lunch. I had no takers. It is not a good feeling to be perceived as a fatalist – especially when you’re nothing of the kind. Frankly, ‘I have the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart!’ But that ‘peace that passes all understanding’ is not a product of my faith in humanity; it is anything but.

Thirty minutes in front of any television newscast should give any rational mind reason to be a pessimist. Fifteen minutes reading any newspaper should bring any breathing human being to his/her knees. Momentary consideration of the need in front of us all should have any sensitive man or woman crying out for mercy. Logically, I have concluded that this world is going to hell in a hand basket.

For 59 years I have witnessed our world wobble to-and-fro from one war to another; one leader to the next; one super power to another; one plan for peace to another war; one dictator to more corruptness; this poverty to that poverty; this crisis and that crisis and those crises all at once. I have heard pledges, speeches, kings, presidents, religious leaders, reporters, talking heads and all manner of promises and plans to bring permanent change to the ravages we face on planet earth. As I write this my country is engaged in at least 3 wars (call them what you will) and toying with at least one other. Genocide is being perpetuated by evil ones cross the globe. Greed has all but destroyed our world’s economy. Drug wars annihilate countless of innocent citizens on every continent. Diseases once eradicated from the face of the earth are returning. This is not what I call progress. Intellectually, I have concluded that this world is going to hell in a hand basket.

The Bible has called us to help usher in The Kingdom of God. The way I read it we are expected to do this by loving one another, serving one another and assisting the least of these. Also, we are expected to carry The Gospel message of repentance, forgiveness and grace to the ends of the earth. However, real peace will not be realized on human terms. Whether we like it or not the very best we have to offer is as filthy rags to God. We are incapable of final, total and eternal reconciliation with one another; it is not in our human DNA. Peace will only come with the return of Christ. I did not make this up. Spiritually, I have concluded that, without Christ, this world is going to hell in a hand basket.

You don’t want to know what we discussed after lunch.

What To Do With The Westboro Baptists

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 15:11:00 +0000

On Monday, June 13 a funeral was held in Nashville, TN for Nashville native and Marine Sgt. Kevin Balduf, age 27, killed in combat in Afghanistan one month earlier. News spread quickly that a group from the infamous Westboro Baptist Church were planning to be present to further spew their misguided beliefs and cast a shadow of shame and humiliation on an otherwise reverent moment. Although I was unable to attend the memorial service for Sgt. Balduf I am proudly aware that our community turned out by the thousands to celebrate his life and selflessness and to peacefully counteract the presence of this band of dark marauders.

Having been raised in a small, conservative, Bible reading, memory verse reciting Baptist congregation I must confess total bafflement by the mean-spirited shenanigans of these so-called Christians. In general Baptists can be misunderstood, stern, immovable, harshly conservative on social issues and downright difficult. Believe me, I know. (The ether is full of wonderfully funny perspectives on Baptists morality: Don’t make love standing up or the Baptists will think you’re dancing. Jews don’t recognize Jesus; Protestants don’t recognize The Virgin Mary and Baptists don’t recognize each other at the liquor store; Always invite 2 Baptists to go fishing with you – if you only take one he’ll drink all your beer.) It is also a widely observed phenomenon that Baptists – generally speaking – have an uncanny knowledge of the scriptures. This makes The Westboros particularly hard to understand.

We know that The Holy Bible includes 2 Testaments. In The Old one we encounter a God of foreboding – fierce, powerful, at times very angry and punitive – The Father. And then we open the pages of The New and are introduced to a gentler, kinder, more human, relatable, story-telling, healing, comforting and forgiving God: Jesus, the Son. And with His death, resurrection and ascension we are introduced to a third: The Ever-Present Comforter and Guide – The Holy Spirit. They each have their own identity and role. According to the definition of The Triune God – The Trinity – The Three were together (One in Three, Three in One) in the beginning, are together now and shall be for eternity. Further, the scriptures tell us that none of them has or ever will change. Now, with that simplistic overview I return with basic questions for The Westboro Baptists:

1. Have you read The New Testament?

2. Did you realize that Jesus taught forgiveness?

3. Have you tried to practice grace?

4. What did Christ mean when he said, ‘Let him who is without sin cast the first stone?’

5. Is heaven going to be filled with people like you?

6. How do your actions live up to these commandments Christ left with us: Love The Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind and all your spirit; love one another; serve one another; repent; love your neighbor as you love yourself; whatever you’ve done unto the least of these you’ve done to me?

And a few humble suggestions:

1. Open up that New Testament.

2. Keep your condemnation to yourselves (it is not your role.)

3. Repent and seek forgiveness.

4. Become less miserable.

5. Dance

6. Do something kind.

The Genius Bar and Other Joints

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Tue, 31 May 2011 18:44:00 +0000

I became a Macintosh devotee’ about 12 years ago. I started with a Blueberry iMac, picked up a couple eMacs along the way (cheap and suitable for specific needs)and eventually purchased a MacBook and the newer version of the iMac. Six weeks ago I left my very-used, 6 year old MacBook on our back deck as I raced in to witness the ‘puck drop‘ on one of The Predators 2nd-round playoff games against the Canucks. About 30 minutes later The Preds were well on their way to a loss and my MacBook - laying wide open on a deck table - was drowning in an unexpected downpour. With a towel, hair dryer and great patience I did everything I could to minimize the damage. Nonetheless, it would not boot up. I walked to another room and booked the first appointment for the next morning at The Genius Bar in our local Apple store. This would not be my first visit there; nor would it be my last.

The wise and polite young man I met the next day removed the hard drive and instructed me to go buy an enclosure and, with luck, he stated, I could probably capture most of my data. He was right. I was happy. I grabbed the rather large collection of stuff and dumped it onto an external hard drive.

Last week, while taking a brief sojourn to Georgia’s beautiful and rugged Atlantic coast, my home in Nashville, TN was visited by the remains of the awful storms that ravaged Joplin, MO and other midwestern towns. 135 human beings lost their lives; I just lost an iMac to a strike of lightning. Why would I even mention it? Well, I think I have a good idea: I believe that Apple, Inc. should consider hanging a sign on both sides of the Help Desks within their retail stores: They should definitely stick with ‘The Genius Bar‘ on the employee side and then I’d suggest something like ‘The Ignorant Son-of-a-Bitch Desk,' 'The Stupid Bastard Corner' or 'The Dipshit Bar' for their customers ' customers like me, at least.

The Donald (and Other GOP Concerns)

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 02:51:00 +0000

I have always voted for Republican presidential candidates although I have never been a registered member of the GOP. I have often voted for Democratic representatives during my many years in Tennessee because I have respected their intellects, fiscal policies and generally conservative postures on social issues. I’d rather not be a political person but I am. However, in recent election years the rhetoric has become so hateful and unproductive that I am doing my best to wean myself from the fray. I’ve no longer got the stomach for it. But this is not an election year and I figure I have a little time to toss out some thoughts and responses to whomever will listen.

In recent weeks the news has been filled with bait about the possible presidential bid of Donald Trump. This makes me sick. Yes, our beloved country is in dire straits but not yet that dire. Donald Trump is an arrogant buffoon who claims to be bright, attractive, capable, tough and possessed of myriad other traits that make him a more than viable candidate for POTUS. I disagree with The Donald on all these line items. I respond to him as I respond to a barker on the midway of a carnival passing through town: he is temporary, loud and obnoxious. Also, when he talks his lips mimic the lips of a goldfish floating through a small aquarium. It is not quite as revolting as Bill Clinton biting his lower lip in shallow remorse but it comes close.

The Donald is now in second place in the Republican presidential contender polls - tied with Mike Huckabee and several points behind Mitt Romney. This also makes me sick – and – for the moment, at least, hopeless. Sarah Palin is DOA (thank goodness) and I surely hope that Michelle Bachman arrives in the same manner. We do not need mindless fools speaking on behalf of reasonable and sound conservative principles but it seems there are few – if any –willing or capable of articulating these policies.

Once again, I turn to and support Ron Paul. He may very well be as unelectable as Ross Perot but every fiber in my body screams that he is telling the truth. A large dose of truth would not hurt our beloved country at this moment in time – if we could recognize it. And there is the problem: I don’t think we can. It has been so twisted and perverted by so many that the truth is unrecognizable.

The Bible states that ‘We shall know The Truth and The Truth shall set us free.’ In other words, knowledge precedes freedom. Listen closely and do your best to hear The Truth in the coming months and years. It is so terribly important.

'I'mMelt-ing'

noreply@blogger.com (Thom Schuyler) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 04:17:00 +0000

It is not news to anyone paying a modest bit of attention to the daily news that General Electric (GE) – a massive and stalwart giant of global industry – paid no corporate taxes to the United States of America for their fiscal year 2010. This, of course, is startling. Upon brief reflection two things bubble to the surface that are deeply troubling and filled with great irony. One: the champion of liberal political thought, reporting and promotion is MSNBC. This network exists to slam conservative policies, ridicule conservative thinkers and slam conservative economics. A primary and repeated demon on the tongues of every MSNBC anchor is ‘The Bush Tax Cuts.’ ‘Money to the rich,’ they scream. Horrible, Outlandish, Archaic, Regressive, Anti-American! MSNBC is owned by General Electric. Two: Recently President Obama handpicked an individual to serve as icon, spokesperson and leader of a U. S. government initiative to assess and jumpstart our lagging economy: Jeffrey Immelt, Chairman of General Electric (GE.) No further comments.