Meditation in the Morning

It usually begins before dawn with small birds, like finches and chickadees, chirping and flitting about the mulch garden before the neighborhood and I are fully awake. I’ve labeled this my ‘quiet time.’

During the winter months, it’s that peaceful segue when the cloak of night gives way to the first glow of sunlight on the horizon. It’s during those silent minutes when the darkness dies and morning is born that I come alive.

It’s an hour or so each morning when I drag my fingers across the tablet to peruse, study, make a mental note of articles there, tidbits and other crumbs that just might fit someplace in that jumble of thoughts and ideas spilling into my brain. It’s priceless time to gather, collect, discard and refill that cauldron of ammunition with which to fire up my imagination.

This is often when I get my best ideas on a wide variety of interests. It’s a brief respite before the day becomes crowded, bumped, and distracted by life’s everyday distractions. Current writing projects are often still churning in the mixer of my mind. They twist and turn over dialogue, scenes, and a plethora of my story-telling vernacular ventures. Characters come alive and talk to me. Scenes come together whereas before they were clouded in doubt and confusion. New projects are constantly crowding out each other for my attention.

The ‘Debris Trilogy’ release was realized there one morning. I was anxious to find a way to get my books in front of an audience. Past efforts had failed and I was at a loss as to how to reach folks. Then I realized my blogs had been steadily growing to average of about 75 readers per week. So, I thought I’d create a folksy approach to tell folks how the idea for ‘Debris’the trilogy came about. Vida, my editor, using my text and photo ideas, created a mini website that brilliantly told the story and attracted readers at the same time.

Vida also came up with a very catchy series of press releases for ‘Waleed, the Skinny Hippo’ which I then messaged and managed to send to numerous outlets across the country.

It doesn’t hurt that perusing my tablet each morning has introduced me to a host of story ideas, song lyrics, possible venues, etc. It’s a morning ritual that’s been paying big dividends for years.

When I first started coming to Palm Springs, I used to haunt ‘third places’ around town in the early morning hours.

Those hovels of caffeine and sugar were a kaleidoscope of homeless skeletons, day laborers, non-sleepers, early morning husbands and loners like myself. Together, they were all the perfect place to blend in, take in the sights, sounds, and smells and let my imagination roam. In time, the safe haunts changed and I eventually retreated to my backyard and the comfort (defined: creativity) there.

Now, the practice continues here and there. Early morning is my special ‘window’ to a world of ideas full of ‘what ifs’ and ‘why not?’ For me, it’s the best place to be… year-round.

Conversations with a Madman

He always seems to be mad at something, about something, against something, because of something. That ‘something’ can range from government action, inaction, the governor himself, politicians (unless they see it his way), taxes of any kind, liberals, young people, women, old people, minorities, immigrants….  And the list just goes on and on.

He always has excuses for Trump’s behavior and that of his fellow Republicans. Yet, if I asked him to define his version of conservatism, he probably couldn’t. In the history of modern American conservatism, there were three distinct waves of change. The first wave was best symbolized by William F. Buckley and Ronald Reagan. The second wave, by Paul Ryan and two Bush presidencies and the third, now best represented by the sometimes confusing, sometimes scary present party in power.

If I were a betting man, I’d say his philosophies run more along the lines of ‘I just heard it on Fox, so it has to be true.’ Like many of us programmed to believe the ads of the sixties, what he sees and hears, he believes. Political news on the radio that morning is gospel and can’t be challenged. Even my occasional ‘You’ve got to be fricken kidding me’ doesn’t seem to faze him or his firm belief that if they ‘said it on radio,’ it has to be true.

He doesn’t respect women and, in fact, seems to fear their intellect, power and agility in the face of stupidity. In other words, normal strengths given to the more powerful of the tribe. Any man who doesn’t see women as an equal missed that train a long time ago.

Photo courtesy of Bob Getterz

It was so much easier when we were all younger and the biggest argument centered around which radio station, KDWB or WDGY, was the best Rock and Roll station in town (the twin cities of Minnesota.) Oh, for those happy days again.

While my friend is ‘a piece of work’, we have actually found, somehow, common ground upon which to carry on some pretty interesting, stimulating and intelligent conversations. The key I discovered, right up front, was to respect his point of view even if he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about … from my point of view, of course.

Without apology, I willingly conceded that my ‘left wing crazies’ were just as off the charts as were his ‘right wing crazies.’ We agreed that term limits should have been placed on most if not all politicians starting with George Washington. We agreed that down through the ages both parties were guilty of any and every indiscretion, crime, unethical, and immoral action possible. We agreed that a good number of politicians’ only real focus is to get reelected which they, in turn, see as their sacred duty to their constituency. Most self-serving politicians speak out of both sides of their mouths, depending which way the political winds are blowing ‘that day.’

Having agreed on some of those basics, my ‘friend’ and I are actually able to find even more common ground in which to have calm, ‘mostly’ rational conversations. He plays the stock market every day and seems to understand value-investing. He studies trends, changing political winds, the economy and makes his decisions based on his own gut appraisal of the marketplace. And he seems to be doing pretty well at it. Of course, he is also an avid gambler and I suspect loses much more than he would care to admit.

Ninety-nine times out of ten, I find our conversations quite educational. I like to hear about stock market trends, emerging companies, particular stocks and the current take on the market from one who plays it on a daily basis. Just to catch a glimpse into his slant on things is fascinating for me as a writer and ever-present voyeur into other people’s lives.

I’ve told my friend that one of my greatest strengths is knowing and admitting that there is so much I don’t know about everything; the stock market in particular. The handlers of Sharon’s retirement account and the good folks at Ameriprise have placed us in stocks and bonds that fit our (not too) conservative approach to the market. It seems to work for us and I don’t lose sleep at night no matter what gyrations the market is going through on any given day. I can’t say the same for my friend.

I think that Noam Chomsky in his book: ‘Requiem for the American Dream’ is able to capture the essence of my friend’s grudge with the world. He says: “There’s unfocused anger going on in self-destructive directions.” He calls this phenomenon ‘generalized rage.’ “It’s most white, working-class, lower-middle-class people, who have been cast by the wayside during the neoliberalism period. Everything has been taken away from them (they feel). There is no economic growth for them, this is for other people. The institutions are all against them. They have a deep concern that they are losing their country because a ‘generalized they’ are taking it away from them.”

Interestingly enough, I meet several guys like that in the service, determined to save their country from the perceived threats within. While my friend and I have never directly addressed this particular slant on life, it certainly sounds like him from everything he’s said to me. I have several other acquaintances back home like the one here. Their political slant on life is so different from mine that only by finding slivers of commonality between us can we keep our conversations going.

One thing that struck me, right from the beginning, was the sincerity from which my friends claimed their knowledge and defense of their political views. It’s hard to argue with someone who feels that passionately about things. It calls for respect in the face of (my own) reality and the challenge of trying to see the argument in question from their point of view.

Yet, like so many other challenges in life, I see it as a win-win situation. If my friend is able to change my point of view, that’s great, I’ve learned something new that day. If not, then my own point of view (after calm, thorough examination) has been justified and reinforced. I win either way.

I hope I can say the same for my ‘friend.’

My Journey into Songwriting

As if I don’t have enough to do already? This idea of songwriting has been creeping into my brain for some time now. What was I thinking? There are movie scripts to hustle, plays that need a venue to perform at and a dozen other projects that are begging for my time and attention.

That being said, I’m finding myself spending more time delving into the always challenging, chaotic and usually frustrating exercise of putting words (called lyrics) into some kind of melodic form sans the rich coat of many sounds to accompany it. Talk about a new experience all together.

Reflecting back on a lifetime of skirting the edges of this stress-induced exercise, I’ve often tried to add music to a lot of my writing projects. Back when I was a younger man, I produced two travel documentaries of my children’s study abroad programs. Brian went around the world on his program and Melanie spent time in Ireland. I added musical numbers to both films; Irish music for Melanie’s travelogue and the ‘Smashing Pumpkins’ music for Brian's.

The first three plays I had produced at the Steeple Center in Rosemount had music as an integral part of their storyline.

‘Hair’ was the climatic song in ‘Riot at Sage Corner.’ It solidified the collective rioting of gray grannies and hopping old men against senior management. The actors really got into the swing of things and the audience loved it too.

For Club Two Ten, I had an accomplished singer songwriter write two original songs for the play. The songs best illustrated the still simmering feelings between old classmates. The songs were a welcome reprise for the scene and added to its depth and emotional clarity.

‘With a Little Help from My Friends’ was the theme song for my last play in Rosemount, ‘The Last Sentinel.’ It perfectly encapsulated the comradery felt by the three old women nearing the end of their stay on earth. It was a song-along that the audience really got into themselves.

In California, my award-winning play ‘Widow’s Waltz’ ended with a performance of ‘The Tennessee Waltz.’ It proved the perfect musical wrapping for my two actors finally accepting their relationship. ‘By the Salton Sea,’ is another play I’m shopping around the Coachella Valley. It has the old classic ‘Wayfaring Stranger’ as its climatic piece. ‘Tangled Roots’ is a musical concert wrapped around a storyline (a play) that is heavy on Americana music. Another play written around the same time, ‘Wake; the Musical’ has a number of song (lyrics only) that still need music added.

When both families gather in Palm Springs, we started a tradition of hosting a staged reading. Papa writes a new play each year and the children perform it for family, friends and neighbors. Over the last half dozen years or so, we’ve added music to the plays. Maya and Samantha choose the song and everyone sings along. It’s a group effort and their harmony is really quite good.

When I decided to add original music to my play ‘PTV’ I knew I would need to find an accomplished musician to help create the melody to accompany my song lyrics. I had asked my editor for some recommendations for songwriters she might know. She is into the musical scene in town and knew a lot of the players. After describing a number of them, their area of interest, expertise, and talent, I added one more caveat. I told her: “They can’t be assholes.” She didn’t know a one I’d want to work with.

Fortunately, another friend had meet someone in college who seemed to fit the bill. He was very talented, smart and a pleasure to work with. I gave him a call and it turned out to be the best call I ever made for that purpose.

When we first meet, I felt it was important to lay down some of the ground rules. My caveats were simple enough. I can’t read music and I’m not going to learn. I don’t play a musical instrument and I’m not going to learn how to. I can’t speak music language but I believe I can communicate what I’m feeling/thinking how the music should go/feel/accompany/add to the scene.

I told my friend that I was willing to learn anything and everything there was to know about composing a song….as long as it meets my criteria and reaches the conclusion, I felt it needed to communicate with my audience about the core message within. This was especially important for my PTV audience because each song had to emulate/continue/enhance/augment/and reinforce the emotions felt by my characters in that particular scene.

Lastly, I said that while I absolutely respected the talent and dedication of the musicians I would be working with, I also expected (no, demanded) that same respect toward me as the lyricist of the songs. If we couldn’t work together in mutual respect, then we couldn’t work together… period.

The results, I am happy to report, are nine original songs written just for ‘PTV.’ My musical collaborator, AJ Scheiber, was able to absolutely capture the mood of each scene, cloaking each with the musical intricacies of that time period. I couldn’t have been happier with the results.

The real test came when AJ took my lyrics, rewrote some of them to fit his melody and then agreed to let me tinker with particular words he had changed. In the end, it was his melody and my words (mostly) that accomplished what each song was meant to do.

Music is now an essential part of any new writing project of mine. My latest movie script ‘Rock the Tree of Life’ is about a country western singer-songwriter down on his luck. Part of my job is to write the lyrics for some of his new songs and then watch as my heroine Ariella, plays the role of co-writer for his new material.

Working with a couple of talented artists as they go about writing new songs is going to be a real challenge for me. Yet if I’m going to step into this new role of songwriter, I can’t think of a nicer couple to do it with.

So says my imagination.