If you've ever been to Five Guys Burgers and Fries, you know how good they are. The regular burgers are actually two big patties, and you can choose from so many good, fresh toppings. Then, a serving of fries is about 2 lbs. worth of potatoes. I have never been able to eat one serving by myself. Yesterday, we had a particularly fresh serving of both burgers and fries. (They ONLY do burgers and fries, and they do it very well.)
A couple of months ago, I went with some of my kids, and one of the Five Guys slogans became my new catch phrase.
I may be just gettin' old, but I just saw one of the best concert dvds ever, from legendary singer-songwriters Carole King and James Taylor. Great old classics are performed. The video trailer here doesn't do the concert justice, but it's a good sampling. Go buy it, and watch it on a nice video/audio system.
This is about as close to a spiritual connection as I can know. I know it, but I couldn't possibly describe how profound it is. It is no accident to me that I discovered this thing called the music of the Beatles. From that earliest of ages, almost as far back as my memory goes, it was in my life. What seems so trivial to most, defines a way of life, and understanding of life, to me. When I look at the pictures of the Beatles from 1960-62, I see something that absolutely runs parallel to my own life. No, not fame, or rock stardom. Nothing of the kind. Gaze at this picture of scruffs, from a club in Hamburg, Germany. At least one of the members of this fledgling band knew he could follow his dream, and make it work. Long before it ever happened. Look closely. The attitude is there.
It is something I can understand. With all the determination and defiance in the world, I was bent on taking that world on. Like those Liverpudlian teddy boys, taking a journey to a strange land just to prove themselves, to try to do it their way, I can so completely relate. I had the faith, and the will (and plenty of self-doubt, too), but I knew what I needed to do to try to make a successful life. Though a teacher's work is never done, on my best days, I feel like I've made it.
Again, look at this photo. How did those young boys have so much confidence? That's amazing to me. As proof, there exist enough photos from the time that their friends also knew this band was onto something. Now, I don't have photos from my formative days to offer up, but ask anyone who knew me then, and I have a feeling they'll tell you I had plenty of attitude. Plenty. And, as I know now, a lot of guidance from whatever it is out there that brought me to this place in time.
I could talk forever about the Beatles, and why they are still, to this day so great, and the impact they've had on me. But that thing we share, that drive to "the toppermost of the poppermost," is the most profound.
If you know me at all, you know what a nerd I am. Well, check this, for evidence. While perusing a blog I frequent called Boing Boing, I happened upon a fascinating piece illustrating the wondrous nerdi-ness of the Library of Congress.
"The Library of Congress has nearly 150 million items in its collection, including at least 21 million books, 5 million maps, 12.5 million photos and 100,000 posters. The largest library in the world, it pioneers both preservation of the oldest artifacts and digitization of the most recent--so that all of it remains available to future generations. "
One of the things the LoC preservationists do is to create "a high-resolution digital map of a record's surface without touching it. Recordings on warped and damaged vinyl can be recovered and restored, then played back by a computer program that emulates the movements of a stylus passing over the modeled grooves." Now, just think about what that information does to the mind of a music collector. Rare, damaged, and otherwise lost recordings can be recovered! They do similar things with books, and film.
I've always wished I could go there, because research is one of those nerdy things I like to do. But just taking a virtual tour of one small part of the LoC is to absolutely stretch one's imagination. If you're a nerd, go check it out. Give yourself some time to read, view and watch video, too. Great stuff.
Brilliant songwriters have a way of taking words and music and striking a chord that resonates in all of us. Billy Joel's brilliance is pounded out in his 1982 song, "Allentown," one that still rings in my head, and reminds me of who I am, and from where I came.
No, I've never been to Allentown, Pennsylvania, but, like many others, I came from a place much like it. My Allentown is called Flint, Michigan. Flint wasn't a steel town, but a town of car factories. One day, the folks with all the money, the same folks for whom the town was built, left. They left for new places like Mexico, because a 4.5 billion-dollars-a-year profit was somehow not enough. Free enterprise, ya know. It's the American way.
But tell that to the tens of thousands of Americans in that town left with nothing but unemployment, crime, and hungry children.
That, and Billy Joel's words.
"Well we're living here in Allentown And they're closing all the factories down Out in Bethlehem they're killing time Filling out forms Standing in line"
As a kid, I stood in the unemployment line with my dad, for hours. There were a lot of desperate people there, and it's an awful feeling.
"Well we're waiting here in Allentown For the Pennsylvania we never found For the promises our teachers gave If we worked hard If we behaved"
I remember my eighth grade history teacher constantly reminding us that if we worked hard, if we behaved, if we attended school everyday, we too, could share in the American Dream. A lot of people believed those words. I believed them, and was one of many standing empty handed when it came time to live my American Dream. No one expects to be handed anything, but, what happened to those promises?
"So the graduations hang on the wall But they never really helped us at all No they never taught us what was real Iron and coke, Chromium steel And we're waiting here in Allentown"
When I was working three jobs to pay for college and my step-father was hounding me about getting a real job with good pay, and my college advisers said that if I studied math education I was guaranteed a career, I found a way to get my graduation. But I still had not learned what was real. Like when the only horse in a one-horse town runs off, and leaves you stranded. No jobs for thousands meant no jobs for a shiny, new, wanna-be teacher. Factories, schools, and dreams had all been shut down. I applied to a couple hundred schools. I went to over a hundred interviews. More than ninety of those folks bothered to send me a letter to say "sorry, we don't need you, but thanks for your inquiry." I kept those letters in a stack bounded with rubber bands for years, to remind me where I came from.
"But they've taken all the coal from the ground And the union people crawled away"
Yep, the biggest labor union of all started in Flint. Where are they, now?
"Well I'm living here in Allentown And it's hard to keep a good man down But I won't be getting up today
And it's getting very hard to stay"
Well, I did get up, everyday. One day, I got up and left. I got a job in Texas, and I'm doing the best I can. I've been doing it for 22 years, now, and I still have a lot to do. That's the real American dream.
The thing is, I left my hometown, but it has never left me. Everything I ever learned about life is somehow attached to that experience. I doubt I'll ever forget, but if I do, there's always Billy Joel's song to remind me.
Lisa and I have seen several concerts in the last year, and I was never able to report on them. Well, we saw Everclear last Saturday (1/23), and this time I must at least say something.
This occasion was the first time I'd seen them, and it came long after the band's biggest years. Essentially, Everclear is Art Alexakis, and what amounts to at least the third incarnation of his group.
Alexakis has issues. Boy, does he have issues, and he lays it all out there in his songs. Here's a little clue for ya, via song titles: "Father of Mine," "Heroin Girl," "Everything Is Wonderful," and for cryin' out loud, the band is named "Everclear," after all. Alexakis responded onstage to a fan chiding him to at least smile: "Yeah, I have four ex-wives who all said the same thing!" No doubt.
We sat up on the balcony for this one, not wishing to fight with the general admission crush on the floor. We had good seats, too, and enjoyed it all. We even stood up for a while, taking it all in.
Everclear is supporting a "new" CD, one consisting of remakes and a couple new songs. If Art and his band should come around again, I'll make sure to buy some tix.
A teacher by day, a family guy, rock and roller, hockey player, and caped crusader by night. Thank you for visiting, and if you care to, please post your comments!
