Passing Through Pasadena

Song writing is hard. Lyric writing is even harder. It’s not just arranging words to fit the mood, rhythm, sway, or beat of a bunch of notes crammed together into a verse. It goes far beyond what the ear can hear and the heart can feel. A good set of lyrics can capture the imagination like few things in life can.

I grew up listening to great songs that connected with my immature, naïve, and timid way of thinking. The New York tunesmiths in the Brill Building, the hipsters in the Village, the ancients in the West Virginia hills, the South Chicago whalers and slide guitar virtuosos in the Delta were all constructing story songs that spoke to my heart and my head.

I was always enthralled by the ability of a song and its lyrics to carry me to another world, to wrench my heart strings taunt and rip open emotions long left dormant in a sometimes cold and uncaring world. Three minutes of sound that captured my imagination, fueled my dreams and left me breathless sometimes with their self-imposed imagery. I was always left wondering ‘how in the hell were they (the songwriters) able to do that? Now I want to find out for myself.

After creating stories in a wide variety of genres from novels, novellas, screenwriting, poetry, playwrighting, children’s stories, comic strip and hundreds of blogs, I’ve come upon a challenge like few others.

Three of my more recent plays were written as musicals and now I face the dilemma of creating music to go with the plays. ‘PTV,’ ‘Wake; the Musical’ and ‘Tangled Roots’ all have at the heart of their respective stories, songs that are meant to enhance, extend and augment the story line into a whole new dimension. At least that’s the stated goal on my part. Accomplishing that is proving to be the big challenge.

Through a series of fortunate circumstances, I met a musician who seems interested in helping me craft the nine songs I’ve written for ‘PTV.’ To be clear, these nine songs are just a title and some lyrics that I thought best conveyed the feeling I was trying to emote from the proposed song. Lucky for me, AJ seems to agree.

AJ Scheiber is a multi-talented musician songwriter who sings solo and in a band, ‘Wilkinson James.’

We met through a mutual friend and had our first meeting at one of his favorite venues ‘the Amore Coffee Shop’ in West Saint Paul. After trying to collaborate with several other musicians in the past, I was a bit Leary of another attempt at song-writing with AJ. My past track record of collaborations wasn’t the best.

Those past experience usually consisted of initial conversations that seemed to flow nicely until it came down to the songwriter’s definition of collaboration. I thought collaboration meant that we would take the songs I had sketched out with lyrics and then they would craft music and adapted (theirs and mine) lyrics to accompany the melodies. Instead, their idea of collaboration was that they take my idea for the song; write melody and lyrics and there it was; with little to no input from me.

When I tried to explain that the song had to fit the mood and context of the scene I had written for the play, my words feel on deaf ears. It was their song; take it or leave it. That was their idea of collaboration. Instead, AJ immediately seemed to get it. Our initial meeting, e-mail correspondences and discussions of song-writing seem to be off to a much better start.

I was imaging some kind of compilation of the raw, unedited honesty of Woody Guthrie and the modern-day sensibilities of a folk artists like Tom Paxton. Both have captured the deep emotional connection between their times and its relevance to our lives today. AJ got it too.

A great example of this is the analysis AJ did of my nine songs in the play and how he felt they should ‘feel’ to match the moment.

Song            Performer/Scene                       Theme

Song # 1          Candle Stick Maker/stage front          Passing Through Pasadena 

Thoughts:      The song is meant to be a tribute to California and all of its imagery

AJ’s music notes: The setting of the play is 1969 (Edward mentions in a conversation with Flo that 1957 was “12 years ago”). So, this is the year of Woodstock, two years after the Summer of Love and the Monterey Pop Festival, and one year after the horrible year of 1968, with the assassinations of MLK Jr. and Bobby Kennedy (and the election of Nixon). The music of this period is edgy and boundary-pushing, more generational and cultural than specifically political, though remnants of the leftist folk / protest tradition are still in evidence.

California has eclipsed New York as the geographic center of American pop and rock music, so Pasadena can serve as a shorthand for the dynamism, creativity, and danger of this West Coast scene, as well as a metaphor for the “frontier” of what’s next for all of the characters. As we’ve discussed, Candle Stick Maker is something of a Greek Chorus as well as a character, a little like the stage manager in Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. For “Passing Through Pasadena,” I hear a simple folky melody that could be sung in a couple of ways: for the opening theme, just a single voice and guitar, as kind of a hippie fireside song. When it comes back at the end, it could / should be a fuller production, more of an anthem that all the voices in the play have a part in.

Song # 2          Mary/at her desk                                 Nebraska Girl

Thoughts:      Mary is a small-time farm girl come to the big city. But she has big dreams and aspirations for her future.

AJ’s music notes: At this point in the play, Mary is a little uncertain but also grounded and forward-looking. As an introduction to her own history and inner life, it feels to me like a mid-tempo roots-rock song would capture this ambivalence well. (Think Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” for a reference point, at least in terms of rhythm and tempo.)

Song # 3          Ryan / studio                                      Words Unspoken

Thoughts:      Ryan is thinking to himself: Oh, my God, what’s happening to me? There’s something about this girl/woman I’ve never felt before with anyone else. Our eyes spoke volumes in a noisy room.

AJ’s music notes: We’ve talked about this one a bit already. This is a song that expresses new emotions Ryan is feeling in the moment, so I think this song should be less about his backstory and more about the immediacy of his feelings. For that, I think a more reflective pop-folk ballad style would be more effective—for instance, a Beatles-y love song like “If I Fell” or “Here and There and Everywhere,” or something in the Gordon Lightfoot mode (“If You Could Read My Mind” for an example).

Song # 4          Candle Stick Maker/studio                 Crazy is as crazy is

Thoughts:      This place is one screwed up circus. The inmates are in charge and don’t even know it.

AJ’s music notes: Still mulling this one a little bit. It feels like this would be a good place to bring in some psychedelic elements (fuzz guitar, etc.) but there’s part of me that wants to save that for Stuart and Eugene’s feature (“What’s Happening Here?”). (See notes below on that one.)

Song # 5          Edward and Flo                                  what’s next for us?

Thoughts:      Their safe secure world is changing/coming to an end/ They just want out of this place and to move on with their lives.

AJ’s music notes: This song, I think, should be the most stylistically “retro” in terms of sound and feel. I hear it as a pop ballad / duet from the pre-rock and roll tradition, though with simple, folky chords and melody that would still connect it to the other music. Flo and Edward have laid the groundwork for the present and the future. On the one hand, they are anachronisms in the present context; on the other hand, the present would not exist but for what they and preceding generations have done and suffered through. So, we want to see the continuity as well as the sense of times changing. I think that a simple melody, arranged for duet but with American Songbook / pop song chords (as opposed to folk / rock chording) could convey this.

Song # 6          Mary/at her desk                                 what’s come over me?

Thoughts:      Mary has feelings she hasn’t felt before. But she isn’t ready for love, not now, not so soon.  But it’s hard to deny her feelings for Ryan.

AJ’s music Notes: This is one of a group of “reflective” songs in the play, dealing with emotional confusion and ambivalence. We want to make sure each of these songs to have a particular musical feeling that fits both the character and the moment. I would like to have something here that shows Mary’s groundedness and strength (which she brought with her from her small-town upbringing) despite her confusion and uncertainty. These should not be the confusions of an innocent ingenue, but of a person who is growing rapidly to become older, wiser, more complex. Stylistically, I think that something harkening back to female singer-songwriters like Joni Mitchell or Carole King would be both dramatically appropriate and a new musical “color” that is part of this period in American music and culture. Some possible musical reference points: Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now,” “All I Want”; Carole King’s “So Far Away,” “No Easy Way Down”

Song # 7          Stuart/Eugene                                     What’s Happening here?

Thoughts:      Bring on the good times. Electric magnetic moonbeams cruising through our brains, mellow out and enjoy the chill.

AJ’s music notes: I know it’s kind of obvious, but this is where the music really gets to let its freak flag fly. “I Just Dropped in to See What Condition My Condition Was In” would be the musical reference point I’m thinking of. Fuzz tone guitars, but also use the phrase “What’s Happening Here?” as a repeated line that could be sung in a group (perhaps even by the audience, if you want that kind of participation).

Song # 8          Candle Stick Maker                            Make or Break

Thoughts:      It’s a make-or-break world. The auction will either save the station or sink it.

AJ’s music notes: This should be up-tempo and a little funky. I’m also wondering if some of the folks involved in the auction / online fundraiser might not join the Candle Stick Maker, at least on a chorus or the title line—especially Ryan and Mary, whose romance hangs in the balance along with the fate of the station itself. Just a thought.

Song # 9          Candle Stick Maker / Everyone         Passing Through Pasadena (Encore)

Thoughts:      Same thoughts as song # 1 with rest of the cast adding their voices to this iconic image of ‘on the road’ romantic traveling over the horizon.

AJ’s music notes: See comments on the opening version that Candle Stick Maker sings. It will be a fun challenge to figure out a melody and chord progression that will work for both the beginning and the ending of the play . . . though I have a few ideas J

Thus far, AJ has roughed out five songs using my lyrics and adapting, changing, editing and filtering my vernacular verbosity to fit the melodies he has created. He’s batting five for five thus far and I can’t wait to continue this new trail-blazing path for the both of us.

As you can see from AJ’s notes, the man ‘gets it.’ While most of the songs written are strategically placed in the play to augment, enhance and elongate the ‘feeling of the moment’ the first and last song entitled: ‘Passing Through Pasadena’ are something entirely different. It is meant to be iconic for midwestern hopes and dreams looking west for the answer; be that reality or not.

I hope in the months ahead AJ and I can both blaze a new trail of songs for ‘PTV.’ ‘Passing Through Pasadena’ on our respective way to creating a new sound track for my play and adding to its overall merits. When completed, I (and AJ) will have layered another element to this play that I hope will add immensely to its overall appeal.

Then the hard part begins; marketing the play.

What Ever Happened to...?

photo credit: Jerry Hoffman

I was recently commiserating with one of my salon compatriots about old friends and past companions. With our collective miles under the belt, we’ve both had many casual, close and a few profound friendships, relationships and acquaintances.

As readers of my past blogs know, I sometimes reminisce about past experiences, acquaintances, friends, and associates much to the chagrin of my better half. Sharon would say I reveal far too much personal information about myself (even though at this stage in the game, I don’t really care anymore). Despite the criticism, I find myself fascinated with the age old question of ‘what -ever happened to…’

While some of my friends won’t admit it, I do have a number who have acquiesced to ‘Facebook stalking’ and/or perusing ‘Classmates.com’ in hopes of finding old school chums, friends, associates, love interests and other assorted contacts made over the years.

My philosophy is that you leave something of yourself with everyone you come into contact with. Granted, you are a different person now than you were back then but if you have ‘history’ with someone even for a brief period of time, the connection is still there.

The categories where old acquaintances can be found are too numerous to list here. It really comes down to meaningful events in your life even if for only short periods of time. It’s different for everyone and could almost be seen as a memoir of one’s past life.

photo credit: Jerry Hoffman

One of my regrets is that almost all of those kids I hung around with through eighth grade have long since scattered to the winds of time. It would have been so fascinating to find out how their lives turned out after life in Highland Park.

I didn’t reconnect with any of my Cretin High School classmates until well after our 50th Class reunion. Back in school, I had a small cadre of friends; all of them were on the college track in school. Then there was me; preordained to go into the trades or the service. Despite my councilors advice, I chose another track for myself. A few of us reconnected after the reunion and continue to this day.

The Army had a profound effect on me although I didn’t realize it at the time. My two year enlistment was ripe with hundreds of story lines, personal antidotes and character studies. Events happened and were forgotten only to resurface years later when nudged forward by a song, comment or photograph. It was a colorful kaleidoscope of military images buried deep in my memory bank. There were Drill sergeants right out of hell, bunk mates who were anti-social, lost young men, gung-ho John Wayne types, rumblings of a far-off war, and youthful lusting for the opposite sex.

And the list could go on and on. It was only a moment in time but there were enough instances of brain-burn images I still can’t shake. Over time, some of those images have become characters in my plays and novels.

Living in Europe on two separate occasions also supplied me with lasting memories of colorful characters, sad creatures and intimate cerebral partners for late night salons.

There was my old roommate I called ‘animal,’ who only lived with me briefly but even then left a memorable impression. Tiny Bailey, another lost soul from Arizona, who escaped an alcoholic mother to seek solace in Denmark but ended up leaving for Israel instead. The Guy from Canada who lived with a local family and was treated like royalty and Maria, my pal at the Danish laundry.

Then there were closer contacts that never went very far. For some that was a good thing. For others, I wish I was still in touch.

There was Heidi, the University student, who wanted more than just friendship. I demurred and dodged the bullet on that one. John and his friend from Amsterdam who were incredibly ambitious. I would really like to know if they ‘made it’ with their dreams intact. Wendy, a pen pal from Lincolnshire, England that I sadly lost contact with.

KTCA television was still evolving and changing from educational television to public television when I began volunteering there on the crew. I was the oldest among the gang but we had one hell of a time taping television programs and learning the trade. Management, always sequestered in the panel-boarded wing of the building, was the enemy because they were all older. Then there was that attractive blond receptionist who always had a smile for me.

Those memories ended bundled up as a play entitled ‘PTV’ for which I have high hopes in the future.

My film trip to the Costa Rican jungle lasted almost a month.  My fellow travelers and I endured three weeks of heat and humidity and deadly tree-hugging snakes. They were a crazy bunch of writers, photo journalists, adventurers and those two girls who didn’t hesitate to go skinny-dipping with us.

The Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting was less than ten years old and still going through its Camelot period when I joined their Programming Department. The station was a microcosm of very talented, creative types that came in every color, aptitude and disposition. There were the elite power couples, the talented producers and directors, some stoned-out crew members and numerous artists and actors who haunted those hallowed halls in the early days.

Over time, there were a number of interesting folks who rented apartment units from me. Believe it or not, there are a number of those past tenants that I would dearly love to hear from again. They were wonderful folks to know. Most were young and beginning their respective careers.

Past Girlfriends are always a topic of curiosity for most men. This kind of inquiry could seem awkward but it doesn’t have to be. For me, each of those women were charming, interesting, and a delight to know in their own way. They had names like Diane, Joyce, Sheila, Marti, and Susan. There were others but their names are less memorable and my time spent with them more easily forgotten. With each, we had some ‘history’ and it was good.

Where there was history, there are memories. The key here is to glance at the past but not to linger there. I think its human nature to want to know about past acquaintances no matter how close or vapid they might have been. They all were, in a way, a reflection of who you were at that point in your life. A point in time that can’t be returned, replaced or replicated.

But can still hold some poignant memories nevertheless.

PTV: The Play

They say history is what we remember of it. Of course, memories are fallible and oftentimes painted over with pastels of pleasantry that cover some of the harsh reality lingering there. Impressions of the past are both subjective and selective. They summon up what we want it to be as well as what it really was. So it was for the Sixties and me.  I’ve tried to capture that sense of an era in one of my latest play entitled PTV.

Like some old hard rock miner, I went digging a while back to unearth recollections and reflections of my first job in the real world. And what a gold mine it turned out to be! I unearthed rough-cut gems of wisdom and insight into a world long since gone. It was a work world laced with honesty and deception, tough love and forbidden love, betrayal and self-direction all collected in that wonderful time capsule from roughly 1967 through 1972. It turned out my first real career steps occurred during a historic and dramatic transitional period for educational television in the Twin Cities and nationwide.

I started working at KTCA television in the winter of 1967 after living in Europe for a while. I had a used VW bug, a bachelor pad (translated: a hovel on University Avenue) and a hunger for more. I had secured a full-time job as a writer at the Minnesota Department of Health but I needed something else to fill my evenings. 

The ten year old educational television station had no writing positions available but they offered to let me work for free as a crew member. The offer was to learn the many different aspects of television production and perhaps something might open up in the future. I took the gig and never looked back. 

My education began literally from the ground up, learning to string cable, set lighting, assemble audio equipment and handle the studio cameras. More importantly, I learned the many different skills entailed in producing a television program. They were the same techniques, routines and procedures that follow most video, film, cable and television productions. I still use many of them today in producing plays.

In retrospect, it was a very pivotal time period for the entire instructional television industry. There were storm clouds on the horizon hinting of major changes in programming and content philosophy that many in authority never saw coming. The ancient axiom of teaching principles were being challenged by new and sometimes radical ideas of learning.

Young Turks saw major opportunities in television entertainment and program distribution. Those who grabbed the opportunity rode an ever growing wave of exciting and sometimes radical new programming ideas and concepts. Woven into that earthquake of change were seismic events like the civil rights movement, women’s liberation, the drug culture and a youthful challenge of parental and governmental authority. It was the best of times for some. It was the worst of times for others. That is the genesis for ‘PTV.’ Trust me; there was a plethora of material to work with.

That period of my life was a modern day soap opera lived through in a fog of growing up among creatives and crazies. The television station proved the perfect cauldron to observe emotions and angst, fear of the future and drug-induced raptures of imagination. Surrounded by the radical changes of the mid-Sixties, the station morphed organically into a mirror of youthful culture run amok.

The station had it all. There were marital dalliances, infidelity, and drugged out crew members scheming against wannabe Hollywood-minded directors. Rigid ivory tower professors railed against the subtle yet very real changes coming in education. Crafty entrepreneurs pushed their latest batch of Mary Jane. Those early educational TV defenders of the status quo shored up their academic defenses against the changes on the horizon. Off campus parties grew to legendary status.

It was a moment in time when the swirling currents of cultural, social, sexual and political events came together and made our television station a melting pot of change. For a playwright, that was a hell of a lot of wonderful material to work into a play.

‘PTV’ was a veritable trip down memory lane for me. The events, people and ever-changing political and cultural changes were based on some of my own experiences at KTCA over that critical period in my life. It included folks I knew well back then, others I was aware of, and still others who were there but never intermingled with me or the other crew members. Most of us were young, single, rambunctious, adventurous and always searching.

After volunteering on the crew for six months, I was offered a position as Producer/Director. Since it didn’t start for three months I returned to Europe for three months to wander and wonder. Then I began my real career in television and video production.

In retrospect, that turned out to be my wannabe hippie phase; a long stretch of soul searching with friends, especially Susan and ultimately a clearer focus on where I wanted to go with my life. That stretch ended with a simple “Got change for a quarter?” asked of the night receptionist and ultimately solidifying my future life with her forever.

Writing ‘PTV’ proved to be a cathartic romp back to a period of eternal, sometimes misguided, youth, romantic conquests, stumbles in time and falling forward. It was dancing with Mary Jane and sober analysis of future pathways. It hinted of writing and real estate, exotic travel and a place in that warm winter sun. It was a brief time capsule of radical change that fed me so many great memories. It predated Camelot out East but proved its own worthy mind bender.

Now my goal is to see if I can get the Minnesota History Theater to consider it for inclusion in their future play performance schedule. My proposal has just been sent in.

Ghosting in the First Degree

My Friends and I at a High School dance

It was a bit rough when my high school girlfriend broke up with me. I remember her gentle sentences were laced with serrated edges and trite catch phrases like “we should date other people” and “we can still be friends.” But it was high school and the whole process of ending a relationship was new to both of us.

When my college girlfriend broke up with me it was a straight forward surgical cut. “It’s time for both of us to move on with our lives and the best of luck to you.” Short, clean, and honest.

Twin Cities Public Television TPT Building

When I got fired for the first and only time my boss sat me down and simply said “This isn’t working out.” I was out of a job but at least I got to my executioner.

Over the years, I’ve had a few friendships that started out promising enough but then the other party decided to end it with a constant series of excuses that finally convinced me we were no longer salon companions. It wasn’t an honest way of ending our friendship but at least I (finally) got the point.

Breaking up is never easy to do. But at least in the past most folks had the curtesy to speak their mind face to face or by the telephone. Nowadays some people have taken to ghosting. I guess it’s easier and requires less conscience then the old fashion way of facing reality.

I first heard of ghosting when Charlize Theron dumped her then boyfriend Sean Penn by simply disappearing from his life. Apparently it’s rampant among millennials. Statistics show that nearly 80% of millennials have experienced it. Along with new age Tinder and Snapchat, ghosting comes with the territory.  It’s one of the paradoxes of the new fast-paced digital dating culture.

If I were polite I’d agree with the argument that those folks are simply avoiders. They probably avoid any kind of confrontation at all costs. They certainly don’t want to deal with their own uncomfortable feelings. A quote I read says it all: ‘The emotion maturity that comes with giving the person you’re dealing with an ounce of common courtesy is not in their emotional vocabulary or repertoire.’ Well spoken.

Palm Springs Writers Expo

Since I started spending more time out west that old ghost of relationships gone south has raised its familiar head again. I am always seeking out opportunities where I can use my writing or speaking skills. Some proposals are met with silence while others are warmly embraced if the details can be worked out…at least at first.

What is onerous, yet unspoken, to some folks is the fact that I don’t spend twelve months in either place. For some of these potential partners that is a deal breaker. Yet it’s never explained that way. I try to be upfront about my love for both states and concentrated focus when I’m in either.  Yet for some people it’s either all the time or not at all.

Recently I was ghosted. It was nothing as dramatic as a termination of employment or cancellation of a contract. The group I was dealing with simply refused to answer my e-mails requesting a meeting to clarify where the group was heading. They do great work and it would have been wonderful to work with them on future projects. For reasons still unknown or understood by me they decided otherwise.

I scanned the newspapers. Yep, they were still in business. I reviewed their web site. Yep, they were still doing great work. So, they were still around…just not on my radar.

Of course, there are a dozen reasons why partnerships, joint ventures and other assorted collaborations come to an end. Members of the venture may have changed their mind about goals and objectives. Perhaps this particular joint venture no longer fit their criteria. There could have been a time shift or time crunch for future productions. Their production objectives may have changed and no longer fit my qualifications. The possible reasons are many and varied and probably legitimate.  Any and all were probably sound reasons for ending (what I thought was) a budding artistic relationship.

“It’s so Hollywood” my Palm Springs friends have told me even as I tried to explain that some of these past ventures were with Minnesota folks. “Minnesota Nice” and all that I argued but to no avail. Perhaps they’ve taken the refrain that my old boss used to recite whenever given the chance. “It’s just business” he said when he fired me. He got canned six months later and I’ve always wonder if he thought of that same trite phrase when it happened to him.

Perhaps it has been a good lesson for me. People with no spine always try to dodge the bullet but usually shoot themselves in the foot or blame the other party for their predicament. If they didn’t have the courage to tell me face to face that ‘it was over’ I doubt our joint ventures would have ended well.

At least my old girlfriends (bless their hearts) had more class than that.