Category: The World

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The price of fear

What is the price we pay for our irrational fear? If I had a dollar for everytime someone that came over immediately locks my front door, I’d be a rich man. Most of my life I hear “Safety First!” everywhere; how can that be a bad thing? Well, last night it cost me $5 for a tip and about an hour of my time. Let me explain.

One of the things that drive me nuts about modern cars ( and I rent one almost every weekend) is that they lock their doors automatically every chance they get.  I understand that it can be advantageous, a locked door won’t swing open as easily in a big crash and if you walk away and forget to press that button on the remote the car is “smart enough” to know you’re not coming back and might prevent coming back to a ransacked automobile. At the same time, I move fast, faster than the car, resulting in endless trying to open the door and having to unlock it again, and again, and again. Last night it got much worse.

It was going to be a rainy night here in Los Angeles and when we got done with our weekly gig at Pip’s I wanted to load up the car with all my gear as quickly as possible. It wasn’t as cold as I had expected so after doing the first two loads I took off my coat with the key fob in it and put it in the car. Normally any car with remote unlock will have tiny little buttons on the door handle that allow you to activate the mechanism if the fob is close by without having to touch it. I put stuff in the trunk, close it and walk back to get the last two thing. Mind you, at this point the car is unlocked! When I return 2 minutes later with the final load, the door is locked again; “no problem” I think to myself, but guess what: the little button on the passenger door does nothing. Wow, is it really gonna make me do this on the driver’s side? Nope, nothing there either!

At this point, I still believe this can’t be true! You mean, the car knows the fob is close, but inside the car? Why in the world won’t it let me unlock? I ask the valet guys and they explain that this does happen once in a while and that there is no other way than to get someone to break into the car! AAA to the rescue; in literally less than a minute the guy that came opened the car, and not with some kind of master remote which is what I expected. Instead he had a kind of inflatable airbag that he wedged in the door jam, and then inflated until the gap was big enough to get the end of a long flexible stick with a ‘finger’ at the end inside to press the unlock button! That goes to show you how silly we are in thinking we can keep out anyone with the intention to get into your car by locking it, although I guess it might have some deterrent effect on someone looking for only the easiest targets.

One big question remains though: why in the world  would it be a good idea to automatically lock the car with the key INSIDE? This is not a rhetorical question. The only answer I can come up with is fear of the outside world. The only scenario I can imagine is if YOU are inside the vehicle and someone is trying to get to you, perhaps to rob you or do a car jack, and you don’t want him to be able to unlock it by the normal method of touching the little button. What other reason could there be? It’s absolutely throwing out the baby with the bathwater isn’t it?

So there it is: defeated by a damn Chevy Cruze and a Western world of snowflakes!

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Cuba

Talk about getting old gracefully! “He’s almost 90 but he looks like a boy!” says the middle aged Belgian presenter. She’s in Cuba at a party for old folks, they are DANCING up a storm; one 84 year old man has all his teeth, healthy as an bear. Free healthcare has its advantages you know. But, but, but “freedom!”, “the free market!” will make it all better. Look, I’m not saying Cuba doesn’t have its problems; met plenty of musicians who came here to escape it. But getting old happy is worth a lot in my book and not being ashamed of being old is a big part. When’s the last time you say literally a hundred people over 80 dancing?

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Conan Without Borders

Here’s an entertainment tip: watch “Conan Without Borders: Mexico” on Netflix if you have it! I’ve always been somewhat of a fan of the quirky ginger, but this had me literally laughing out loud all by myself.  Not only is it hilarious, it really shows the class and kindness of the Mexican people. It makes you realize how incredibly insulting and stupid it is to keep suggesting bigger and better walls between us and our neighbors!

Update: I watched the rest of the episodes and just wow! This has to be one of the greatest TV programs of all time. Talk about walls: when Conan is standing on the Palestinian side of that monstrosity that Israel built it really drives home what kind of damage they can do to our psyche; what an insult it can be, even when there’s such a better reason to build one than whatever our fearless President comes up with. His interviews with especially the kids in the camps still bring tears to my eyes as I write this the next day.

At the same time, the laughs are huge. My goodness, when Conan sits in on a classroom in Haiti, his entrance is goofy, lifting the tiny desk made for 9 year olds and wedging it on his enormous legs; but as the scene goes on, the wonderful kids throwing him a funny look once in a while, he starts ramping up the abstract comedy, ending up turning a room full of some of the best behaving kids I’ve ever seen into the most wonderful chaotic drum circle. By the time he’s leaving, already sitting in the car, the questions and comments from the children are just amazing…. I don’t want to write any more, you have to experience it for yourself. I have NEVER, I repeat NEVER been so moved and made to laugh literally out loud by the same program.

And God bless Conan for going out there and restoring, ever so slightly, the faith of the rest of the world in the USA. As a matter of fact, one of the recurring themes of the whole series is not only that almost everybody despises Trump and especially his never-ending insults to the “shitholes” of the world (responses of those in Haiti are beyond inspirational and hilarious), but more importantly, that they have love for the american people. He gives an angry woman the time to yell at him about the Donald,  then wins her and everybody else over with his genuine interest in them and he ALWAYS makes a point to say something special in their language.

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How much?

There’s plenty of talk about Bitcoin and cryptocurrencies these days; from endless banter from people who don’t even understand the basic premises, completely nonsensical information from folks who have no concept of money and finances in general and even some discussions anchored in fact and knowledge. One kind of vital piece of information is impossible to be found though: how much money has been put in BTC and its derivatives? It’s easy to calculate to the total value of all Bitcoins: quantity times price, just like the market cap of a stock, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I want to know how much money all of us together have spent on buying them and that’s not that easy to figure out.

One more thing: please, PLEASE take all these analyses on the web about BTC’s price movement (moving averages, death cross etc etc) with a pallet of salt. The people writing them are using methods that may hold value when applied to stocks representing companies, for predicting the value of something completely different, and that’s asking for trouble. You see, even if investors would lose trust in Ford as a company, its stock would still be worth something, based on, if nothing else, the company’s assets (factories, inventory, cash), but BTC could be worth $0 overnight if something bad enough happens. I’m not exaggerating; its price is 100% dependent on trust. I’m certainly not saying it’s worthless; I believe we have something incredibly valuable here in the long run, but our old methods of analysis can not be blindly carried over.

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The Choir: Military Wives (Updated!)

It’s summer so in Holland it’s time for “Zomergasten”, an iconic yearly TV show, which is perhaps my favorite thing on this medium anywhere. Presented by a different host every year, it has only one guest who, for the three hours the program lasts, has total freedom to discuss any topic, tell any story or share any observation, while showing video clips from any movie/TV show/documentary he wants. Mind you, there are no commercial interruptions! This years presenter is Wilfried de Jong, a very smart and truly interested person, and the first guest was none other than Freek de Jonge, a living legend in the Netherlands. A true artist, de Jonge discusses many many interesting topics and makes it clear that he’s as free as a human can be in this day and age: his one-man theater shows are completely and utterly uncompromised,  not by commerce, nor the desire to be liked by everyone which plagues so many these days.

In this 180 minute journey, we see a young Charlie Chaplin, discovering his talents in a time when close-up shots had not even been considered yet! We witness the most unbelievable put by Tiger Woods: the movement of the ball includes what looks like about a 90 degree turn, and then a teetering on the edge of the hole for literally seconds before it seems like the growing roar of the crowd provides the last little push it needs to go in. There are many more very interesting parts, but where it really got me was when Freek showed us a few minutes of a British program called The Choir: Military Wives.

It’s the fourth season of a show in which conductor Gareth Malone rounds up groups of people to form a singing group. This is no populist BS though, he works them, but more importantly, literally makes them better people. I’ve said many times the we westerners don’t sing together enough! I haven’t seen the whole show, but in the 5 minutes we got to witness on Zomergasten, at first we see a few dozen women whose husbands are away at war; these are ladies who know each other, but in England there’s not much socializing between folks of different ranks so they don’t know each other well. Also, most are not singers and visibly uncomfortable with the whole situation. In addition, military wives are probably in a similarly rigid system as their husbands, not used to the ‘cutting loose and letting go’ that music begs for.

By the time that they perform in front of prince Charles at Royal Albert Hall (!!!!) their faces have completely changed; I get tears in my eyes writing this, I can see the unity, the peace, the togetherness, the confidence. It’s like they were girls and now they are women. Freek makes some very fascinating observations: “when their husbands come back from the war, they’re going to have a problem!” The women have now far surpassed their partners in this journey of discovery we call life, as the latter have probably regressed in their understanding of balance and happiness. Wives who acted like they had never been listened to have now learned to wield the power of their voices, in the best, most selfless way possible.

One final interesting thing: even though most Dutch public TV shows are watchable online these days, for free by the way, most of the time Zomergasten is not, but this episode was. You know why? Because the restrictions always come due to ‘geographic’ license issues in this over-commercialized world; but true art is not run by money managers! There were no Disney clips, no major network Amercian TV…….. and the result was another perfect example of the potential of this Medium.

UPDATE: found out that the entire three part series can be watched on Youtube in perfectly fine quality! I watched it last night and was so moved……. Choir Director Gareth Malone is quite an interesting character, and at points all his judgements of these women (“they literally have no voice!”) seem quite pretentious and almost vulgar, but then the faces don’t lie and the incredible joy and thankfulness they experience moved me to tears. Wow!

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Jakarta: part three

So now what? It’s Monday afternoon, we don’t have to do anything until Thursday! We haven’t left the hotel except to go to the festival grounds, but we can’t just do nothing and eat and drink everyday. Water is expensive at the Borobodur (think $5 per half liter!) so I decide to see if there’s a market or something around. I bought a SIM card at the festival for $5 that got my phone online with 2GB of data, so Google Maps is working. It was another great demonstration of the plight of the iPhone user, when you see them literally carrying another (local) phone because they don’t realize you can unlock them. Oh that walled garden….but I digress……… My inquiry at the concierge desk leads to the Atrium Plaza, half a mile away. When I ask if we can walk they look very puzzled, suggesting we take a cab, but I convince Dave that we should go on foot anyway! It’s basically a straight shot although there aren’t really any sidewalks; we pass by people fishing in the dirtiest water, moped repairmen, bums chilling and some of the richest stenches I had ever experienced. There’s barbed wire, chemical clouds in ponds in which some are actually fishing….. wow!

The mall is actually quite Western looking; there’s serious security of course: dogs, military police, metal detectors. But when we get inside, it’s pretty nice. We see a Burger King, Starbucks, but also a lot of vendors on the ground level selling clothes, wallets and shoes.  The supermarket is in the basement, but we decide to go up first. All in all there are 6 floors in this thing, with many many restaurants, clothing stores and a few gift shops. Electronics are actually quite expensive here, phones cost even more than in the US, although the selection is enormous. Also in the basement are many, many telecom shops! I’m talking 30 of them with more Samsungs than you could ever imagine. Wherever Dave and I go, people are staring at us; surprisingly we are the only two gringos in the whole joint, a good foot taller than most locals. We end up buying a couple of bags of groceries for next to nothing and head back to the hotel. Still not over my jet lag, a couple of beers after dinner at the lovely Bogor cafe and I’m ready for bed. Tomorrow we go on a real adventure!

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Jakarta: part two

That first Friday we got there, the Java Jazz Festival was already well underway. It was close to 5PM by the time we arrived and Snarky Puppy, whom we really wanted to see, wasn’t to go on until 12:30AM; it was going to be the only time out of three they did when we wouldn’t be playing ourselves, but we were too tired to make it. Getting to the venue required getting on a shuttle bus which could take anywhere from 20 to 45 minutes, so it just wasn’t gonna happen. Luckily there was a Jam session every night at the Borobudur where every musician with a badge got 2 free beers! Dave and I made stayed until about 11:30PM when complete exhaustion took over. Organist Tony Monaco was leading the thing and let me tell you, he was GREAT. A lot of familiar faces were everywhere; sometimes it seemed like another night at Cafe Cordiale! Off to bed, Saturday would be time to work….

Woke up pretty early, but thankfully was able to go back to sleep for a few more hours that morning. Lobby call wasn’t until 4PM or so and by that time I felt pretty good actually. We were told the trip to the Jakarta International Expo could take a long time depending on traffic, but it went reasonably fast and we got there in about 25 minutes. Boy, the part we entered through looked like a deserted Zoo or something, a post-apocalyptic amusement park; just gates and empty buildings! A couple of turns later we’re at the main entrance into what looks like a mall. Again everything goes through metal detectors and luggage scanners and we’re in! The building actually is a mall, with sporting goods stores, restaurants etc. On the other side of it though is the main section with many different halls. In all, there were 19 stages, ranging from conference rooms to a couple in the convention center part that were as big as airplane hangars! Ours seats about 3000 or so and is called C1. When we get there, the band before us is just about to start and it turns out they’re really a pretty complex fusion band, not bad actually. After they’re done, we have about 45 minutes to change over the stage which doesn’t go as smoothly as we’d hoped….

By the time doors open again to let our crowd in, we’re not quite ready, especially when it comes to monitoring, but the room fills up almost completely and we go for it! It’s a good show, but the repressed style of the Indonesian audience doesn’t quite help overcome the jet lag that sets in halfway for the band. As is normal with festivals, people come and go, so by the end we have a smaller crowd, but it’s all good. We have another chance the next day, a little earlier in the same room. It’s really amazing how well-behaved these folks are! With 50,000 visitors a day you’d expect some trouble, or rowdiness, but it almost feels like a church picnic! It turns out that the whole city is really like that, I expect in large part due to the fact that they are very religious over there. The mosques that litter the city go off on a regular basis, blaring Arabic prayers very loudly into the air. Even the last night, staying on the 22nd floor I was still woken up at 3 in the morning.

On Sunday we do redeem ourselves and play an energetic, refreshed show! This time the audience keeps growing as times goes on and the arch is just perfect. Dean West, our regular East Coast tour manager and soundman is actually there because he’s working with India Arie later on, and he helps us get the monitors right. Quite happy, after Keiko is done with her obligations of signing CDs and such, she, Dave and I go and check out some more music. Tania Maria is awesome, the tribute to George Duke featuring Jeff Lorber, Chuck Loeb and many others is wonderful; the whole place is going off! That night, the jam is pretty great too actually. Organist Tony Monaco starts off the night again and when Dutch musicians Peter Beets and Gijs Dijkhuizen sit in Dave gets very happy. Peter is a pianist there to perform a tribute to Oscar Peterson and Gijs his drummer. Boy, these dudes swing hard! Everyone one is there and many are giving me their free beer tickets, so I find myself in a Smooth Jazz sandwich, getting a little drunker than I prolly should, having an awesome time.

The next day, the adventure is over for most musicians there; Dave and I were supposed to fly back to L.A. as well, but we got hired by Brian Simpson to do another gig six days later so we get to stay! Keiko is flying to Japan on a later flight, and being the class act she is, offers to buy us lunch at the Borobudur. She explains that this place is famous for its Oxtail soup and now I know why. Man, it is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten: rich in flavor without being overwhelming, complex but familiar in the best way. Really, the food at the hotel was incredible every time. Even the bread was just perfect, unsalted butter from New Zealand, delicious deserts from all over the world, Sushi to Rendang, homemade ice cream….. and the coffee…….. so what are we to do? We’ve got 4 more days off and if we just keep eating, I’m gonna turn into a tub!

To be continued….

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Jakarta: part one

Where do I begin? What an amazing trip Dave and I were blessed with! We left on the 26th at 10PM for Taipe, to finally arrive on Friday afternoon in Jakarta, Indonesia. Total travel time was a little north of 24 hours, but they are 15 time zones ahead of us, so one loses a day. We flew EVA Air, a Taiwanese airline, which was very good actually. The 13 hour flight was on one of their Hello Kitty jets! I kid you not, everything had the cat on it: the cutlery, pillow, blanket, the cake had it built in and even the outside of the plane was fully painted. The stewardesses were all beautiful and so pleasant too, it was like looking at a fashion show. We were served some pretty good food too, from chicken porridge for breakfast, to Chinese cabbage and Dragon Fruit. Coffee was excellent, and Taiwan Beer, really that’s the name, was free! It’s a long, long way, but I arrived pretty well rested at 1PM.

We were met at the airport by a representative from the festival who took our passports and just walked us through immigration without ever having to talk to anyone. We got them back the next day with all visas properly executed; this is the way to do it! The drive was quite something. By the airport it’s pretty green and not densely populated, but as we started to get into the city, the shanty-towns got bigger and bigger, with big modern buildings dotting the landscape everywhere. Dirty, dirty, DIRTY waterways everywhere, that much was clear, even from the bus with the windows closed and the airco running. Traffic was crazy, but when we got off the freeway into downtown it really got nuts. With mopeds, carrying dad on the back, two kids between him and mom, and then another kid in the front, with no helmets, flying around, even on sidewalks, the cars were stuck. We sat on the same block, which turned out be 300 yards from the hotel, for more than an hour! People pooping in the river, then a little further two fishing! Yet the faces were peaceful, even on drivers……there was lots of honking, but the polite kind, just to let each other know where everybody is. Even the bums sitting by the river, smoking, playing chess, didn’t look unhappy.

When we finally got to the hotel around 4, we entered a different world. Named after the most famous monument in Indonesia, the Hotel Borobudur is right in the heart of Jakarta, a five star oasis, with an Olympic sized pool and guys with AK47s in the lobby at all times! On Saturday some politician must have stayed there because they opened a can of MPs. I kid you not, there must have been 50 men with AKs guarding the joint. You can’t enter any big building in Jakarta without going through a metal detector, but this was kind of freaky. Otherwise, the hotel was quite great. Excellent rooms, tennis courts with free lessons, and for us free food three times a day! The Bogor cafe in there is famous for its Oxtail Soup which Keiko turned us on to. AMAZING! They had excellent bread, soups, fruit for days and of course lots of Indonesian and international dishes; I must have eaten more different foods in these 9 days than in the whole year before! And then there was the coffee…..we were gonna get spoiled, that much was getting clear….

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Nick en Simon in Cuba

You know, all my serious music friends in Holland have no respect for these guys, or at least so it seems. They do sing sappy songs in Dutch, are white as the driven snow, but I dig ’em. First of all, they have talent and real skills, and they know the difference. Here they are in Cuba, where nobody knows their names; wrote a song, translated into Spanish, ended up in what looks like a barbershop, with a 95 year old singer…….the man sings and the tears start rolling….man, the sound coming from this human being captivates everyone…it’s a class act that lets others be the stars of the show. BTW, you can book this man; he’s working on a tour of Europe in 2014. Of course his appearance is dependent on being alive!

I remember an old episode of Dutch TV where Nick en Simon were in South Africa. The ended up on a balcony with some local musicians who still hold Graceland in high regard. They jammed Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes so beautifully, so in tune with each other, grounded in that foundation of admiration for the song and music in general. People growing up half-way around the globe from each other, in perfect synch because of a simple song. It’s these humble, quiet things that commercial TV lacks, at least the kind paid for with advertising.