Avenue G

Michael's HIStory statue in Europe -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
When news of Michael Jackson’s recent death reached me, I was shocked but not entirely surprised. In the 80’s, People ran an MJ byline that said, “Is this guy weird or what?” At that point, he was just known for harmless eccentricities -- an Elephant man here, a chimp over there, maybe a hyperbaric oxygen chamber next to that. By the 90’s, his behavior verged upon reactionary neurosis and mental melt-down. He veered from child molestation charges to weirdly arranged marriages and then baby-dangling episodes. His odd plastic surgery evolution had to be (at least in part) outwardly indicative of his inward mental implosions.

Probably in part as a reaction to all his bad press, he had been treated for pain killers and rushed to the hospital on various occasions. Now if TMZ and various tabloid sources can be trusted, it appears that Jackson was getting daily Demerol injections from a live-in physician. How much emotional or physical pain do you have to be in to require such dosages from a Dr. “Feel Good”? This drug is potent, and Jackson probably cheated death innumerable times before the grim reaper came and stayed.

His death reminded me in some ways of other tormented celebs -- Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley and Judy Garland to be sure. Marilyn was found in “barbiturate coma” a time or two by agents and housekeepers prior to her actual death in 1962. At 42, Elvis was a bloated vestige of his youthful persona -- chowing down peanut butter & banana sandwiches and popping tranquilizers. He also had a Dr Feel Good in the wings at the time of his 1977 death.

What to make of these things? Marilyn was 36, Elvis was 42, Judy was about 47 and MJ was 50. All were around mid-life but still young enough for reinvention and new career moves. A modest being might just be content to do like Greta Garbo -- retire at 38 and live happily off of investments. You’d have lingering mystique and privacy to boot; she certainly did. Somehow with others, the out-size fame and fortune brings out-size expectations… “I’m famous and beautiful, how can I be so alone?”

Michael and Elvis in particular created insular, make-believe worlds even similar in name -- “Graceland” and “Neverland”. Both were surrounded by sycophants, servants and doctors wielding needles and vials with mighty elixirs of sleep and relaxation. One supposes that out-size egos might want out-size medications that exceed the limits of ordinary budgets, FDA laws and even common sense.

It’s a mighty shame, because all of the aforementioned had so much more to give the world -- in spite of low self-esteem moments they might have felt at the times of their demises. I was very much looking forward to a Michael Jackson comeback -- musical redemption was in the offing. We (and they in the beyond) can settle on the weird consolation that the world will never see their bodies buckled with age or faces withered like leather masks. To the athlete (or entertainer) who died young -- we will miss you terribly. Thank you for what you gave us while you were here.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Labels: Music, Retrospective

Turning on and Tuning in -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
LSD will turn 70 next year. What is LSD? It's lysergic acid diethylamide. It was invented at Sandoz Laboratories in 1938 by a research chemist named Albert Hoffman (who just turned 100 last year). Hoffman was working with a rye fungus called ergot, looking for nothing more than a headache remedy. It wasn't until five years later, 1943, that Hoffman began to suspect the mind altering qualities of LSD by accidental ingestion. He then took a deliberate dosage of 250 micrograms to verify his suspicion. That was an enormous dose by current standards -- 25 micrograms is the "norm". LSD is very potent. Hoffman then took a famous bicycle ride in which he hallucinated that trees were melting. The next day, he awoke with a sense of expanded awareness and credited LSD with his newfound wisdom.

LSD quickly garnered attention for its mind-bending effects. Sandoz gave it freely to doctors studying schizophrenia (among others) and gave it the commercial name Delysid. As it grew in popularity, some doctors actually prescribed it for depression and anxiety. In 1961, Harvard psychology professor Timothy Leary received an LSD study grant. In one of his studies, he found that 83% of LSD users had profound, beautiful insights from their drug use. LSD became the "super muse" of the art and music community. Aldous Huxley, Allen Ginsberg and Anais Nin were among its users. People claimed to feel visionary and born again under its influence. The Beatles, the Doors and the Grateful Dead were among the multitude of musicians that turned on and tuned in. Oddly, some of the most beautiful music of the 20th century ("A Day in the Life", "Tuesday Afternoon") was probably LSD-influenced.

Alas, nothing good is forever. There had to be some kind of bummer to bring everyone back down and there was. LSD caused "bad trips" where people would experience pain or ghastly imagery. It was thought to cause permanent psychosis in some users and traumatic flashbacks in others. For these reasons, it was banned in the USA in October 1966. LSD took some other bad raps at about the same time. Both the Army and the CIA had been using LSD for mind control experiments (eg, Project MKULTRA). The subjects of the experiment were soldiers and citizens unaware that they were being used as guinea pigs. Such experiments were outlawed under the Ford Administration and laws of informed consent were later enacted.

And so, what is the status of LSD today? It is alive and well in the underground recreational drug market. It's frequently dispensed on blotter paper in tiny dosages of 20 to 30 micrograms. In 2006, the British Journal of Psychiatry actually suggested that LSD might be reevaluated for its medical use. Maybe after the passage of 40 years and the reduced hysteria, the drug could be tested in a more controlled fashion. I can't imagine what illness I might have, where the antidote gives me melting trees and time dilation. But what the hey -- I've had some killer head aches. What harm is a Salvador Dali world, if I can feel good again? But maybe we should refrain.

Speaking of refrains, I'm thinking of, "I read the news today Oh boy ...” LSD gave us some bad trips and some really good music. What to make of something that has such powers? The genie needs to stay in the bottle for now. When Sandoz comes out with a version that only makes us visionary or only sends us on a good trip -- then maybe we can let the genie back out of the bottle.

© 2007 blogSpotter

Labels: Music, Society

All you need is love -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I was just a ten year old Air Force brat when 1967's Summer of Love took place. At that young age I was unable to appreciate, much less partake in the amazing cultural phenomenon. 1969's Woodstock is frequently cited as the seminal Earth-shaking event in American Rock history but nay -- Woodstock is the offspring of that certain summer, that summer of California Dreamin' that took place two years earlier. The Summer of Love actually started as nothing more than a marketing gimmick for the June '67 Monterrey Music Festival. To help promote the event in May '67, The Mamas and Papas' John Phillips penned a little song with a big impact: San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair). Scott McKenzie's eloquent recording of the song became a #1 hit and it served as a quasi-invitation for hippies worldwide to converge in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco for the summer.

The Monterrey Music Festival dovetailed with several other amazing things. An event called the Human Be-In at Golden Gate Park got the ball rolling in January of '67. Then the Beatles came forth with the drug-influenced, George Martin-produced tour-de-force known as Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. There was already a certain hippie momentum and the Beatles' magnum opus (arguably the best album in Rock history) added fuel to the fire. Basically, the whole world converged on San Francisco that summer -- people from New Zealand, Europe and everywhere else. There were hippies to be sure, but also tourists, gawkers, soldiers and middle aged people. Some of the drug-addled attendees actually thought that utopia was to occur then and there. It's easy to see why. They had free food, free love and even a free clinic (which still operates to this day). There was even a Free Store which gave basic supplies to anyone in need.

As all good things must, the Summer of Love came to an end. Overcrowding, crime and drug problems began to take a toll. Those ultimate wet blankets, practical people and realists, all had to go back to school and back to their jobs. It turned out that you couldn't give everything away free, forever without something like that pesky Social Contract becoming necessary. Nevertheless, and you knew a nevertheless was coming, the Summer of Love was beautiful in both its utopian intentions and its musical expression. Nothing since has held a candle to the "turning on" that happened that summer in Haight-Ashbury. In 1987, the 20th anniversary of Sergeant Pepper and the Summer of Love, the album was released in CD format. Wags the world over argued over the question, "Is love all you really need?" Sociologists and pragmatists everywhere claimed that you need money, work, social security a sound roof and central heating. They finally approached the expert himself, George Harrison, to seek his opinion. George answered without any hesitation at all: "Yes, all you need is Love". Thank you Mr. Harrison; this blog author is in whole-hearted agreement with that lyric. The Summer of Love was a perfect antidote to a world rocked by racial strife and the Viet Nam War. Some 40 years later, we are rocked by the war in Iraq -- maybe it's time to revisit Haight-Ashbury and its themes. I'll close with my favorite bumper sticker from the era:

"Make love, not war".

© 2007 blogSpotter

Labels: Music, Society

courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
What can you say about superstar Madonna, that hasn't been said already? The Material Girl has been a fixture in our musical world for nearly 3 decades now. She's gone thru so many stages, it's hard to keep track:

• Early Madonna -- Like a Virgin temptress
• Material Girl -- Making material demands, showing mastery over men
• Who's that Girl Madonna -- Blonde and independent, asking Papa not to preach
• Like A Prayer Madonna -- Cavorting with a priest, breaking more taboos
• Vogue Madonna -- Justifying her love, playing the sexpot in Dick Tracy
• Evita Madonna -- Don't cry for Madonna here, probably her best movie role ever
• Kabbalah Madonna -- Speaking with a British accent, married to Guy Richie

Madonna is now in her late 40's -- her youthful temptress days are over, but she's still a pop culture force of nature. Other divas have recently, previously passed the same age milestones -- Barbra Streisand, Cher and Dianna Ross to name a few. Interesting how perception of age has evolved. In Sunset Boulevard, Nora Desmond was washed up at age 52. In All About Eve, Margo Channing was an old gray mare at 40. Nowadays, a woman can qualify for babehood all the way to 60, if she embraces the right attitude and has a good plastic surgeon. Age is no longer a crime, just a number.

Madonna’s list of hit records is a mile long, and her influences on pop culture are, if anything, more impressive. When she came along in the early 80’s, the women’s movement and taken large strides in the work world, but there was still a rigid double standard with regards to sexual freedom. Men could act out freely; any woman doing so was a ‘slut’. Madonna helped bring about the concept of an empowered woman who could do as she pleased. Today, a woman can be both provocative and seductive (and smart) without also being designated a prostitute. Actually men (and in particular gay/bisexual men) have benefited from the same evolution of attitude. If the legacy of our lady Madonna were simplified to a single phrase it would be:

“Let people be who they are”.

Thank you, Madonna. You might not have done it single-handedly, but you helped make the world a better place.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

Labels: Music

Sir Paul

by blogSpotter
You only need to see a couple of my previous blogs (e.g., "The Beatles Forever") to know that I'm a big Beatles fan. It's sadly ironic that two of the four are already gone -- one from a crazed fan's bullet and one from throat cancer. In their prime, each Beatle fell into some category, be it guru, philosopher, dreamer, cut-up. Paul was to many "the cute Beatle". In reading the Beatles biography, it seems Paul was a very pragmatic businessman, and possibly the glue that helped keep the band together until 1970. Toward the group's end, Lennon and McCartney lost their creative mojo and started taking potshots at each other. Paul accused John of writing drug-induced mantras, and John accused Paul of writing jingles for grandmas. George was disgusted with both, because he felt that they patronized him and played his material half-heartedly. Yoko ("Oh-no!") did not help matters by trying to convince John that the other Beatles lacked artistic 'purity'.

Thus in 1970, they parted ways. Each Beatle enjoyed some individual success, but Paul by far scored the most hits in his new group, Wings. The Guinness Book of Records has Paul as the most successful composer of all time; ironic because Paul also makes it into Dave Barry's "Book of Bad Songs". Barry has a point -- "Silly Love Songs" and "Someone's Knocking at the Door" do not leap to mind as the best works of a musical mastermind. Be all that as it may, the songs of Lennon and McCartney will probably be remembered in the same way that Shakespeare sonnets have been captured for the ages. The Beatles discography already has more staying power than that of Aha, Oasis or Coldplay.

Paul has had 3 'main squeezes' over his lifetime. He dated actress Jane Asher during much of his Beatles' stardom. In 1969, shortly before the group's demise, he met up with American Linda Eastman. He was with Linda for decades to follow, and one might say she was the love of his life. In 1998, Linda succumbed to breast cancer, and Sir Paul was single again. In 2002, Paul married Heather Mills, a former model young enough to be his daughter. They signed no pre-nup and the relationship ran out of gas after 4 years. Tabloids have recently blasted headlines that Heather is a former call girl. Legal experts say that if those allegations are proven, it may help Paul's case regarding divorce settlement and custody. Nonetheless, it's a weird irony that a man so beloved and so long in monogamous couplings gets ditched as he turns 64. Paul actually wrote "When I'm 64" in 1958 -- who would've guessed it would end up on a psychedelic album a decade later, in the hippy era? It may be ironic with regard to Heather, but Paul's listening public will always need him. He will be loved well past 64.

[Quick category is *MUSIC].

© 2006 blogSpotter.

Labels: Music