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Time for a rewrite

Too many of those who write or report for the national media have lost the thread of the purpose of journalism: sharing information. One only has to look at the Washington Post’s White House reporter Annie Linskey’s thoughtless tweet earlier this week (that she quickly deleted…but not before it was captured via a screenshot) to see the truth of this statement.

It was a Sunday. Biden goes to church on Sunday. The hometown church he attends has a cemetery, where his first wife and two children are buried. Any thoughtful White House reporter — who operated from a place of empathy and understanding — would realize that fact. They would also know that legislation gets negotiated — endlessly — before it is enacted. Just because a Republican party that isn’t interested in governing would like us to believe that the Democrats are in disarray, doesn’t mean that good political reporters have to repeat Mitch McConnell’s self-serving talking points.

The best reply I saw was this one on Twitter:

Annie Linskey is the winner of today’s ‘Aw Crap I Forgot Twitter Isn’t A Cocktail Party At Sally Quinn’s House In 1982’ Award.

Please mess with Texas

Dan Froomkin at Presswatch — a site developed as “an intervention for political journalism” — began a new series to help journalists like Ms. Linskey who were having difficulty finding the correct lede. He recently wrote, “As a companion piece to my post on a tragically problematic New York Times article about Thursday’s delayed vote in Congress, I’d like to try something new.

I’ll call it: “Let me rewrite that for you.

I’m going to take a handful of recent articles that I felt badly missed the mark, and offer alternative ledes or nut graphs that I think do a better job of telling the truer story.

Froomkin spent 12 years at the Washington Post, where he served as editor of the website and wrote its enormously popular White House Watch column, which aggregated and amplified insightful political coverage. So he knows whereof he speaks.

He has several examples of bad journalism from this first post in the series. I’ll highlight parts of just one, an objectionable September 28 story in the Washington Post by Timothy Bella with the headline N.C. hospital system fires about 175 workers in one of the largest-ever mass terminations due to a vaccine mandate.”

Froomkin begins by sharing the first paragraph of the original story.

A North Carolina-based hospital system announced Monday that roughly 175 unvaccinated employees were fired for failing to comply with the organization’s mandatory coronavirus vaccination policy, the latest in a series of health-care dismissals over coronavirus immunization.

And Froomkin’s response?

“Let me rewrite that for you!

First, let me rewrite the headline, as per the suggestion of Mark Lukasiewicz, dean of Hofstra University’s school of communication: ‘N.C. hospital network employees accept vaccine mandate with 99.5% compliance.‘”

As for the rewritten top.

“A North Carolina-based hospital system is reporting a stunning level of compliance with its vaccine mandate, assuaging fears that scores of employees would quit and leave patients untended.

Novant Health spokeswoman Megan Rivers told The Washington Post that more than 99 percent of the system’s roughly 35,000 employees have followed the mandatory vaccination program. She said in a statement that Novant Health was ‘thrilled’ those who chose to be vaccinated have given patients and visitors ‘better protection against COVID-19 regardless of where they are in our health system.’”

See. Isn’t that easy?

In today’s world, those who control the narrative too often control the power. As we are beginning to see in the global revelations of the Pandora Papers, those who seek to divide us for their own self interest and financial gain do so in order to rise in strength. And they use media to help drive their agendas.

The use of power to divide and conquer has been on vivid display over the past two decades in America. Writing in Mother Jones magazine, Kevin Drum details how a desire for power and money by an Australian billionaire is The Real Source of America’s Rising Rage. Conspiracy theories, social media, and racism are all part of the mix, but Rupert Murdoch’s hold on the right wing narrative — with his push to create constant fear, anger, and resentment — is the one piece that has been in place since Americans began hating each other in ways not seen since the Civil War.

It is time we all tell our stories and help rewrite the narratives too many of our fellow citizens are receiving.

More to come…

DJB

Image by Anne Karakash from Pixabay.

It’s an old, old story: Power doesn’t corrupt, it reveals

When wise governance is set aside for the acquisition of raw power, the effects can be startling and unsettling. Facts and events that are unambiguous suddenly become areas ripe for dispute. Neighbors are pitted against neighbors. Those who seek to divide us for their own self interest and financial gain rise in strength.

As always, this Weekly Reader features links to recent books and articles that grabbed my interest or tickled my fancy.


“Power doesn’t corrupt,” says biographer Robert Caro, “it reveals

It is a story as old as the history of the world, and one that plays out in the teachings of our philosophers and great religions. The contrast between destructive and uplifting uses of power came to mind recently while reading Anglican theologian N.T. Wright’s 2020 book Broken Signposts.

Wright’s work looks at seven signposts integral to every worldview, including justice, beauty, freedom, and truth. When we do not live up to our ideals in those areas, Wright suggests, our societies and our individual lives become unbalanced. As a priest and Biblical scholar, Wright makes the case that looking at these broken signposts through a Christian lens provides a vision and hope for ourselves and for the world.

Many of his observations from the Gospel of John bring to mind parallels of life today, especially in the final chapter on power. Wright’s telling of the well-known New Testament story of Jesus before Pilate, in a different political arena in a different time, nonetheless creates a clear link.

Wright asserts that there are two types of power. The first, designed to control others, most often happens by bullying and fighting. Casual onlookers consider Pilate and see someone who has the fate of another’s life in his hands, who controls ruthless warriors, and who maintains his power through violence. But Wright sees a weak politician in over his head, angry at being manipulated, and determined to get his petty revenge. Think of today’s U.S. politicians with authoritarian tendencies. Many see themselves as strong, but they too are in reality weak, confused, angry, and easily manipulated by their deep-pocketed donors.

So, what does power reveal about those who do not rely on bullying, violence, and revenge? Many ancient religious and philosophical systems have an understanding of appropriate political power where the world is governed wisely by humans who will be held to account for how they exercise that power. It is built upon empathy, understanding, and love for others. It is a paradox, writes Wright, that “humans are made to exercise power, but true human power was always intended to be exercised through self-giving love.” It is power that will be accomplished by “a grain of wheat falling into the earth and dying,” and so producing many seeds.

The short-term outcomes may not be as easily attained as through bullying, threats, and violence. But power that is exercised through empathy and self-giving love has impacts that last well after the leader is gone, moving us from self to a focus on others. That is the type of power we should seek and support.

Grave of Gandhi (photo by DJB)

Fear is used to deflect attention from the undermining of democracy

In her Letters from an American series, historian Heather Cox Richardson recently wrote of the ways in which anti-immigration fear is used by authoritarians to retain power, deflect from their own scandals, rewrite history, and undermine democracy. Author and lawyer Teri Kanefield has a piece on her blog worth reading about power, and the difference between hierarchy people and fairness people.


New Yorker writer Jane Mayer, author of the book Dark Money — where she asserts that “the Koch brothers and a small number of allied plutocrats have essentially hijacked American democracy, using their money not just to compete with their political adversaries, but to drown them out” — linked to a recent Rolling Stone article and tweeted “All the tentacles of the ‘Kochtopus’ are aimed at killing Biden’s Build Back Better Bill on Climate, Welfare.” All aimed at keeping money and power.


And finally, David Runciman — who teaches politics at Cambridge — has a piece in the London Review of Books that points to what has really failed in America due to Trump’s unceasing push for power.

The institutions of the American republic withstood Trump just as the Founders might have hoped: since federal government is complicated and burdensome and organised around institutional self-interest…But the one institution that was not able to withstand Trump was the one the Founders thought might destroy the republic anyway: a political party. The Republican Party establishment indulged Trump and then discovered that when it was time to move on his voters were staying put….it turned out that they couldn’t undo what they had done.

Enjoy your reading this week.

More to come…

DJB

Image by Pezibear from Pixabay

What if we have it all wrong? Reality and the dislocation of joy

A mentor who is both an astute observer of life and an insightful writer added a comment to my recent post about the scourge of gambling in baseball. It made me stop and think.

What truly disturbs me about sports betting is the dislocation of joy. The joy is supposed to be in watching the game. Monetizing it, as you point out, changes the focus — as if there could be no simple pleasures which are not really about cash.

I’ve written about joy on multiple occasions. But outside of discussions around out-of-socket joints — conversations known colloquially among the AARP set as “organ recitals” — dislocation is not a word I use very often. Yet Deborah found it to be just the right turn of phrase in her comment. Dislocation is defined as a disturbance from a proper, original, or usual place or state. The push to move joy in the game itself towards joy in winning unearned riches could be a poster child for the disturbance of focus from its proper place.

Commercialization is partly to blame for the dislocation of joy onto things and money. We are bombarded by 6,000 to 10,000 commercial advertisements each day. These ads seek to build up envy, dislocating our contentment and joy from what we have and placing it on the newest, shiniest object. Things and money — we are told from a very early age — are what give us joy.

But what we hear from a very early age flies in the face of what our shared experience actually tells us about joy, if we take the time to stop and think.

Another mentor and exceptional writer notes that our language would lead a careful observer to believe that what we see as real is always serious, harsh, and cruel. The words “harsh reality” stand as one word, one idea.

Yet, Frank muses, “what if joy, wonder, and peace are what life is really about?” Can the harshness and bitterness that we too often see as reality be a passing phase? Frank calls on a very personal yet universal memory to make the case for the reality of joy and hope. “All babies are born with the firm belief that joy, wonder, and peace are the norms of life….Babies are born with that understanding of life. And slowly, patiently, the elders of the world teach them that their view is wrong.”

The elders of the world work to dislocate our natural joy in living life and focus it instead on the belief that the acquisition of things and money will provide joy and happiness. But you don’t have to have lived very long to know the truth of the old adage that money can’t buy happiness. We all know, deep down, that road never brings satisfaction. Money can’t buy love or true friends. Money can’t buy back your youth when you’re old.

And yet much too often we accept the dislocation of joy as reality.

I’m on a hope-filled campaign to relocate my joy in the living, the doing, the being. In part, my campaign is a reaction against the forces that suggest we will only find happiness in things with a monetary value, see life as a zero-sum game, and then work to divide the world into the haves and have-nots. Joy is a way to support the work that hope demands.

Rebecca Solnit has written,

“Joy doesn’t betray but sustains activism.  And when you face politics that aspires to make you fearful, alienated, and isolated, joy is a fine initial act of insurrection.”

My campaign is a personal act of insurrection.

There are many reasons to relocate the joy that has been too often dislocated by those who benefit from our misery. And yes, I’m with John Green. You don’t necessarily have to deal with pain to get there.

“Without pain, how could we know joy?’ This is an old argument in the field of thinking about suffering and its stupidity and lack of sophistication could be plumbed for centuries but suffice it to say that the existence of broccoli does not, in any way, affect the taste of chocolate.”

Have a good week.

More to come…

DJB

Image: Mother and son from Pixabay.

The quicksilver guitar stylings of Bryan Sutton

Bryan Sutton’s career — which we celebrate this week on Saturday Soundtrack — is encapsulated in this one paragraph from his website:

Bryan Sutton is the most accomplished and awarded acoustic guitarist of his generation, an innovator who bridges the bluegrass flatpicking traditions of the 20th century with the dynamic roots music scene of the 21st. His rise from buzzed-about young sideman to first-call Nashville session musician to membership in one of history’s greatest bluegrass bands has been grounded in quiet professionalism and ever-expanding musicianship.

Sutton was born in Asheville, North Carolina — a hotbed of bluegrass and traditional roots music — and he came to fame in the field as the hotshot lead guitarist in one of the biggest bluegrass bands of the 1990s: Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder. I first encountered his clean, quicksilver leads and solid bluegrass rhythm, as seen in Bluegrass Breakdown, from that part of his career. His lightening fast guitar solo begins at the 2:55 mark.

After three years on the road with Skaggs, Sutton returned to Nashville where he became the top call acoustic guitar session player for artists ranging from Garth Brooks and Taylor Swift to Dolly Parton (The Grass is Blue), Dierks Bentley and The Chicks. On the latter group’s 1999 album Fly, Sutton takes off on Sin Wagon, first in some interplay with the fiddle beginning at 1:32 and then on a longer solo at the 3:04 mark.

Duets are where I most enjoy Sutton’s playing, as he supports fellow musicians with innovative rhythm work and is not afraid of unlikely detours and explorations when it comes to the leads. In 2006, he took his admiration for his fellow pickers to its logical conclusion, arranging duo sessions with favorites and friends for Not Too Far From The Tree.

He was joined on a range of styles and tunes by David Grier, Norman Blake, Ricky Skaggs, Tony Rice, Earl Scruggs…and Doc Watson.

The latter’s track, a take on the venerable “Whiskey Before Breakfast,” won the Grammy Award of 2007 for Best Country Instrumental Performance. Every bluegrass guitarist reveres Doc Watson, but for Sutton, their shared North Carolina roots made the validation that much deeper. Even coming amid a string of nine IBMA awards, this was a career highlight that cemented Sutton’s name next to Doc’s, and in his field there’s no higher honor.

Here are two tunes from that album, beginning with the Grammy-winning Whiskey Before Breakfast with Doc, followed by Lonesome Fiddle Blues in a blazing duet of the Vassar Clements‘ classic with Tony Rice.

I Am a Pilgrim is not the tune Sutton performed with David Grier on the duo album, but this live version from the Station Inn is pretty tasty.

Sutton does okay in trios as well (he says with tongue firmly in cheek), as seen here with banjoist Bela Fleck and fiddler Casey Driessen.

And what the heck. One of my favorite configurations with Sutton was on Mark O’Connor’s 30 Year Retrospective album. Here is the amazing Granny White Special with O’Connor, Chris Thile, Byron House, and Sutton.

The most recent major chapter of Sutton’s career had its seeds planted more than a decade ago when a call came from banjo star Peter Wernick. The legendary Colorado bluegrass band Hot Rize was taking on infrequent reunion shows. Wernick, Tim O’Brien and Nick Forster asked Sutton to fill the guitar chair of the late Charles Sawtelle. Then about 2012 they decided to release a new album, tour harder and make Sutton a formal member of the group. In 2015 Hot Rize was nominated for two IBMA Awards including album and entertainers of the year. Fans from coast to coast and especially Colorado were thrilled to have this favorite 1980s era band back with the best guitarist in the business tossing out well wrought solos, as well as playing the deadpan role of Slade in Hot Rize’s alter ego band, Red Knuckles and the Trailblazers.

Here’s Sutton playing some straight ahead bluegrass guitar with Hot Rize on Nellie Kane.

Sutton is currently touring with Bela Fleck in support of his My Bluegrass Heart album and I was fortunate to hear this band recently at the Strathmore Music Hall. Here he is just a few days before the Strathmore concert playing Slippery Eel with Fleck, Sierra Hull, Mark Schatz, and Michael Cleveland. Sutton’s first solo comes in at the 1:42 mark, and then the soloists start trading fours (and more) at the 2:32 mark. Amazing!

And to end this Soundtrack, give a listen to Sutton and Chris Thile do a preternatural version of the old Delmore Brothers tune (which most of us know from Doc Watson) Lay Down My Old Guitar. I’d also “wish I could tie it to my side, and take it along with me”…if I could play like Bryan Sutton!

Enjoy!

More to come…

DJB

Image of Bryan Sutton from BryanSutton.com

Touch the earth

With the passage of time, walking has become my favorite way to see the world. Walking is an act of citizenship, helping the citizen know “his or her city and fellow citizens and truly inhabit the city rather than a small privatized part thereof.” I see this through my daily morning walks.

A deliberate practice, such as that found when walking a labyrinth, can tell us, as Rebecca Solnit has written, that “…sometimes you have to turn your back on your goal to get there, sometimes you’re farthest away when you’re closest, sometimes the only way is the long one.” You have time to think when you slow down and walk. What’s the rush? It was Edward Abbey who memorably said, “Life is already too short to waste on speed.”

Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh in the book Your True Home, has his own distinctive take on walking. As I read this passage over the summer, it immediately struck a nerve.

“Walking is a form of touching the earth. We touch the earth with our feet, and we heal the earth, we heal ourselves, and we heal humankind. Whenever you have an extra five, ten, or fifteen minutes, enjoy walking. With every step it’s possible to bring healing and nourishment to our body and our mind. Every step taken in mindfulness and freedom can help us heal and transform, and the world will be healed and transformed together with us.”

Walking is moving at the speed of life. Find time today to put one foot in front of another, again and again, and touch the earth.

More to come…

DJB

Image by chulmin park from Pixabay

Writing is a communal art

Writing well means different things to different people. For me, good writing is like that famous quote of Justice Potter Stewart in reference to obscenity: “I know it when I see it.” Writer Colum McCann has a delightful take as he notes that “On occasion we write a sentence that isn’t, in fact, correct, but it sings.  And the question is:  Would you rather be the ornithologist or the bird?”

As always, this Weekly Reader features links to recent books and articles that grabbed my interest or tickled my fancy. This particular one is devoted to singing like the bird.


In her classic writing manual Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within, Natalie Goldberg suggests that writing is 90% listening. “If you want to become a good writer, you need to do three things,” she advises. “Read a lot, listen well and deeply, and write a lot.”

And, she adds, don’t think too much.

Reading the book over my summer break while on a Natalie Goldberg reading binge, it was clear I was late to the party. Writing Down the Bones has been around for 30 years and is credited with changing the way writing is taught and understood. In a series of short, informal chapters, Goldberg speaks to how to uneducate yourself from what you’ve been taught (stop obsessing about those transitional sentences) and immerse yourself in writing what’s in front of your nose. Name things, because names matter. Focus on verbs, which provide energy to a sentence. Write in restaurants and laundromats to get out of your lonely writer mindset.

In one especially helpful chapter, she notes that writing is a communal art.

“Writers are great lovers. They fall in love with other writers. That’s how they learn to write. They take on a writer, read everything by him or her, read it over again until they understand how the writer moves, pauses, and sees. That’s what being a lover is: stepping outside yourself, stepping into someone’s skin. Your ability to love another’s writing means those capabilities are awakened in you. It will only make you bigger; it won’t make you a copy cat.”

In the grace and simplicity of those sentences, one understands the power of this book. If you know someone who likes to write or wants to write, or wants to understand the value of writers, you might ask them if they have read Writing Down the Bones. Many will reply, “Of course.” But on the off chance that they do not know Goldberg’s work, introduce them as I recently did to a friend who came for a visit. After a few short pages, she was enthralled and will perhaps become inspired, as millions of others have been before her.


One Sentence is a new project by the writer Ben Dolnick. It’s a free newsletter that takes one interesting sentence a week and analyzes what makes it so compelling. In just a few short weeks, I’m hooked.

If you like Edith Warton, check out this post. Or Beverly Cleary fans should click on that link. But because I’m a sucker for biographies, I’m going to encourage you to the edition where Dolnick parses the following sentence from the legendary biographer Robert Caro:

“How could they know about the grass?”

Dolnick writes:

I usually hate biographies. This will, I know, make me sound like a moron, but: they seem as a form almost built to be dull….

However! Robert Caro’s biographies are astonishing.

This unassuming sentence comes in the very first chapter, the little-is-known-about-his-great-great-grandfather part of a biography that is usually as far as I get. But what Caro does, ingeniously, is to tell this story — of the Buntons and the Johnsons, the two sides of Lyndon’s family tree — not as a story of antiquated names begetting other slightly less antiquated names but as a story of place. And that place, the Hill Country, turns out to be fascinating. Fascinating because it is awful. Almost willfully so, in Caro’s telling — it baits people, it traps them, it destroys them. And the way it does so is with its high and luscious grass.


Even before Jeopardy! came to its senses and realized that they had made a colossal blunder, The Angry Grammarian, writing in the Philadelphia Inquirer, wanted to talk about Jeopardy!’s awkward and horrible choice. Yes. Another one.*

I don’t like shouting, and I didn’t want to emphasize that sentence with an exclamation point. I really didn’t. But you had a once-in-a-generation opportunity, and you blew it with a disastrous decision.

While changing the host, you kept Jeopardy!’s exclamation point. That means I just had to ram an innocent, hardworking apostrophe with an italicized exclamation point — something no one should be forced to do.

you could have made everyone happy — and softened the blow of picking a totally forgettable dude-burger to host the most vaunted franchise on television — by doinking that unnecessary punctuation mark off your logo.

Enjoy your reading (and writing) this week.

More to come…

DJB

*Bonus points if you knew which clip was coming before you clicked through.

Image: Writing by free photos from Pixabay.

Uncharted: How to navigate the future

Following the tumult of the past 18 months, this summer has been exhilarating and unnerving. Krista Tippett speaks of this transition when we’ve taken steps toward reengagement as “a liminal space emotionally, psychologically, physically, institutionally, relationally.” We have experienced and learned so much; now we have to determine how to live into our futures.

The future was on my mind when Margaret Heffernan recently skewered one of my sacred cows. Rather than be dismissive, I decided to open up and listen. Her article on Jim Collins’s Good to Great was my first encounter with this Texas-born, Holland-raised, English-educated entrepreneur, CEO, and author. Having long championed Collins’s book, I was unsettled by how much in Heffernan’s analysis rang true. The linear nature of Collins’s work did not account for the complex and changing world we inhabit. Before finishing the article, I knew I had to read more.

Thankfully, Heffernan had recently published Uncharted: How to navigate the future. Released just before the pandemic lockdown, it nonetheless spoke presciently and wisely as to the uncertain world which came to full fruition in 2020.

Given her background and widely popular You Tube videos, Uncharted could have easily been limited to issues of business management and leadership. And there is plenty to consider for the business, nonprofit, and government sectors. But as I read Heffernan, I was struck by how much her thoughts on what we need to do — and what we need to be — to navigate the future were focused on the personal.

She begins with a section on our “prediction addiction,” where we look to business forecasting, history, even genetics to try and create certainty in an uncertain world. Mentally we are all “time travelers,” she asserts. While we talk about living in the moment, Heffernan maintains that “we can’t, we don’t — and wouldn’t want to. What gives life meaning is the rich and constant interplay between past, present, and future.” That requires our attention as humans. We give up that interplay, for instance, when we turn on our GPS and turn off our surroundings, our memories, and our plans all to focus on our phones.

With examples ranging through business, government, taxi drivers, war, science, even friendships, she examines the characteristics that allow some to successfully navigate the uncertainty of life. Just as her article skewered the prediction addiction of Good to Great, in Uncharted she takes on the bogus Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which has no basis in clinical psychology, as just one out of many examples of the silly and shallow ways we seek to predict future performance.

Instead, she calls for us to recognize that we all inhabit complex systems, only parts of which we can see or influence. Heffernan encourages her readers to think like an artist, with a mind that is “febrile, alert, receptive.” She points to “cathedral projects” as those containing experimentation to navigate uncertainty, but also a clear vision of what one wants to achieve. We are not “condemned to short-term, atomized work just because we can’t see far into the future.” Looking ahead allows us to use the uncertainty as a motivator and to build on generations past for work to be completed by and for future generations. Who wants to live forever anyway, as Heffernan titles one chapter.

If we are to navigate the future we must be able to live with paradox and “reconcile opposites — efficiency and robustness, adaptability and long-term focus, just-in-time and just-in-case.”

“What do we need to do, and what do we need to be, to navigate the future? What we need to do is to hold fast to the gifts we have, and to develop them together. What we need to be is human. The future will always be uncharted but it is made by those active enough to explore it, with the stamina and imagination not to give up on themselves or each other.”

Heffernan has created a masterful book that calls out our humanity and creativity. “There is nothing predictable or predetermined about what we will produce with the ingredients of our minds,” she writes. “We neither forsake our past nor are we mired in it.”

Highly recommended.

More to come…

DJB

Image by marandap from Pixabay.

Kyshona: The music therapist gone rogue

Kyshona (pronounced Kuh-Shauna) Armstrong began her career as a musical therapist, writing her first songs with the students and inmates under her care. As she began to write independently, she lent “her voice and music to those that feel they have been silenced or forgotten,” making her a unique figure in Nashville’s creative community and songwriting culture. As she explains in a Tedx Nashville talk, her background led her to “abandon the idea of writing to a ‘hook'” and, instead, she “leans into her therapeutic training to write to a mantra.” We look at her work in this week’s Saturday Soundtrack.

Kyshona’s album Listen — released in 2020 — blends “roots, rock, R&B, and folk with lyrical prowess to uplift the marginalized…It’s for every silent scream, every heavy load, every fearful thought, and the simmering sense of anger that the silenced, the lost, and the forgotten try to hide from the world.”

The title track makes it clear where her sentiments lie.

“Why you gotta interrupt / When I’m done talking / I need you to keep it shut / This ain’t up for discussion...

I’m standing right in front of you / Trying to tell you my truth / The only thing I ask of you / Is listen.”

In describing her thoughts about the album, she told an interviewer,

What I tried to set forth in this album is just: Listen. From every corner that you look at it, we’re all just screaming at each other. Nobody’s really listening. The thing about ‘Listen.’ is that it’s a whole sentence. It’s the most difficult thing to do. When we’re listening to someone share their story we automatically want to relate to them, ‘I have a story similar to that!’ Or, ‘I know what I can do to help them!’ That takes us out the moment with another person.

An early album from 2010 — Home Again — included the song Time, performed here live in 2012. It shows the promise of this young “music therapist gone rogue.”

Kyshona…has a natural gift for using music to tap into emotion. I first explored her music through The Bluegrass Situation. I wanted to know more when I read,

Everyone is making political records. Everyone is making albums that speak to ‘this moment.’ Too few of them are making music that speaks to the people who inhabit this moment.

Burdens Down — included here in a powerful live version — is from the 2017 album The Ride 2.0. “I’ve hit rock bottom…but I’m gonna take that rock / Throw it in the river / And lay my burdens down.”

Another song from the Listen album is Fallen People. She writes about it in the liner notes to the music video,

In a time when we are all so divided, this song was written as a reminder that each and every one of us has an obstacle we’re trying to overcome, an emotional wound we are living with and a struggle that we’re walking with everyday. THAT is where we can all be united… in the hurting.

Over the last few years, Kyshona has shared the stage with a host of top-flight performers. I especially enjoy her collaboration — alongside Adia Victoria*, Allison Russell, and Kam Franklin — with the talented alt-country singer Margo Price in this spell-binding version of Hey Child from Price’s That’s How Rumors Get Started. When you go past the mass market in Nashville, you will discover some unexpected performances.

Near the end of her interview “The gospel according to Kyshona” in The Bluegrass Situation, she says the following:

I have faith in a higher power. That’s what gets me through. But I also know that that’s not how everybody comes at life. Not everybody has the foundation that I do. I’m just here to let people know: I see you. You’re not alone. I know it doesn’t feel good right now, but somebody is out here. You might not even know them, but they get it. And let someone else know that you see them, too.

We could all do better at letting someone else know that we see them.

More to come…

DJB

Image: Cover of Kyshona CD “The Ride 2.0” credit Kyshona.com

*Look for a Adia Victoria Soundtrack in October.

So long, summer

With the arrival of fall, let’s catch up with recent Observations from the road that don’t merit a full post.


Why use an old-fashioned blog

I am not on social media. I like to write and the blog format seems to work best for me. But over the summer I came across data that reinforced my decision. Social media posts have a shelf life.* In ascending order, the shelf lives are:

  • Twitter – 18 minutes
  • Facebook – 5 hours
  • Instagram – 21 hours
  • LinkedIn– 24 hours
  • Videos – 3 months
  • Blog post – 2 years

The July and August trending posts on MTC tell me that many of the older pieces still attract readers. I’ll stick to blogging.


Small surprises

This little signpost, with a saying from Brian Andreas, is a moment of grace along my morning walk.

Driving down 16th Street one morning, Andrew asked, “Dad, have you ever seen Washington’s Russian Orthodox Cathedral?” Why no. We took a turn and over on 17th was this sublime brick church topped with the familiar onion domes characteristic of Russian churches. St. John the Baptist was certainly a small, and welcomed, surprise.

St. John the Baptist Russian Orthodox Church, Washington, DC

Speaking of churches, while we were in Parkersburg, our hosts said, “Let’s drive by Frank Wade‘s old church.” Frank — our long-time and much beloved rector at St. Albans parish — was a native West Virginian who served in Parkersburg before moving to Washington. After a few turns, up pops this pink Episcopal Church in the heart of West Virginia!

Memorial Church of the Good Shepherd in Parkerstown, WV

I took a picture and immediately sent it to Frank, who responded:

“I know that place! There are not many pink Spanish style churches in West Virginia.

The architecture reflects the fact that WV’s first bishop William Peterkin had visited South America.…we were always glad the good man never visited Tibet. Hard to tell what it might have looked like. The pink color came many years later at the hands of a painter who misunderstood his directions. The mistake flourished and the parish takes great pride in it. When I left the paper announced I was leaving the town’s Pink Church.


Cemeteries are cool. Really!

Cemeteries don’t get much love. While many see them as places full of sadness and longing, they can also be places of history, beauty, and celebration. Take the Green-Wood Cemetery, a National Historic Landmark in the heart of Brooklyn, for instance.

Henry Chadwick grave at Green-Wood Cemetery

Former colleague Tom Cassidy was in the city over the summer while his son Sean — a minor league umpire — was calling games in Brooklyn. Tom visited Henry Chadwick’s grave and sent along a picture showing more than a dozen baseballs left as memorials from fans. Why baseballs?

No man did more to popularize baseball than Henry Chadwick (1824–1908). A British-born newspaperman, Chadwick immigrated to America as a youth, and made Brooklyn his home. In 1847, at Elysian Fields in New Jersey, Chadwick played his first baseball game, then dedicated the rest of his life to the promotion of the sport which he helped to become the national pastime. . . . He persuaded The New York Times and other dailies that baseball was news fit to print…

Chadwick assigned numbers to positions, creating the game’s scoring system, and introduced the box score.

He coined many of baseball’s most-enduring phrases, including ‘assist,’ ‘base hit,’ ‘base on balls,’ ‘cut off,’ ‘chin music,’ ‘fungo,’ ‘white wash,’ ‘double play,’ ‘error,’ ‘goose egg,’ ‘left on base,’ and ‘single.’ He…chaired the Rules Committee of the National Association of Base Ball Players and supervised the annual game, at the beginning of every baseball season…where rules changes were demonstrated.

Green-Wood.com

In Marietta, Ohio, we visited The Mound Cemetery — also listed on the National Register of Historic Places. At the center stands a 2,000-year-old burial mound of the Adena culture, surrounded by graves where it is believed more Revolutionary War officers are buried than at any other cemetery in the country. Marietta was part of a land grant given to soldiers in lieu of pay by the new nation, explaining how so many ended up in this beautiful Ohio-river community.

Stairs to the top of the mound.

The blossoms have been exceptional this summer…as have the bugs

Finally, we have seen a profusion of beautiful blossoms in the region, but also an invasion of oak leaf itch mites, which find the billions of recently laid cicada eggs very tasty. When they aren’t eating cicada juveniles, however, they are biting people. Like me! Where did I put that cortizone?

More to come…

DJB

*Most sources credit an IT services company, Mamsys, for these stats.

Image: One of the beauties from nature in downtown Silver Spring

The Outlier: Jimmy Carter’s unfinished presidency

A deeply divided America is grappling with issues that have vexed the nation for decades: environmental degradation, national healthcare, the racial divide, income inequality, Middle East wars, and unchecked presidential powers. While most politicians have sidestepped the hard choices required for meaningful change, one often overlooked president actively worked to seriously address these challenges on a daily basis.

As always, this Weekly Reader features links to recent books or articles that grabbed my interest or tickled my fancy.

Not everyone felt Jimmy Carter had the intellect, world view, and social status to rise to meet the need. When asked during the 1976 campaign about his personal eccentricities and love of beer, his brother famously responded, “I’ve got one sister who spends all her time on a motorcycle, another who is a Holy-Rolly preacher, a mother who was in the Peace Corps when she was seventy years old, and my brother thinks he’s going to be President of the United States. Which one of our family do you think is normal? Hell” he declared, “I’m the only sane one in the bunch.”

Billy may not have seen his brother as sane, but Jimmy Carter nonetheless attempted to take on those vexing national issues and more. And the attempt made his presidency highly consequential — and unfinished — writes Kai Bird in his important new presidential biography The Outlier.

Bird states upfront that Carter’s “distinctive southern sensibilities and his Southern Baptist religiosity” made possible the “revelation that America was hobbled by its myths.” He saw an America that was in need of serious healing. But as Ronald Reagan’s overwhelming victory in 1980 demonstrated, Americans like to portray themselves as “drenched” with a sense of destiny and exceptionalism. We don’t like tough love any more that we enjoy being told there are limits or that historical forces are sometimes beyond our control. We hang on to the myths to avoid the truth.

Bird’s book is part of the reevaluation of the Carter presidency coming as conservativism in America devolves into authoritarianism. It is wide-ranging, thoughtful, and does not shy away from difficult assessments. Carter’s rigidity, for instance, comes in for serious criticism. But Bird also looks with some sympathy through the lens of two of Carter’s intellectual influences — southern novelist William Faulkner and theologian Reinhold Niebuhr — to examine his presidency and its attempts to approach a world that desperately needed fixing.

I spent two years of the Carter presidency living ten miles from Plains. Bird’s descriptions of South Georgia’s racial inequality, the poverty, the patriarchy, the over-the-top religious piety that was part of the atmosphere but that could also serve up deep hatred towards the interracial Christian Koinonia community all rang true. Jimmy Carter was shaped by those forces and also reacted against them.

We often forget the many and varied accomplishments of the Carter administration. On the domestic side Carter began the deregulation of American business that brought everything from lower airline prices to the emergence of craft beer. His energy policies saw a decline in foreign oil imports and led to investments in solar, wind, and other renewable energy sources. Consumer regulations from automobiles to pharmaceuticals led to the saving of thousands of American lives each year. We ended his administration with cleaner water and air along with the protection of valuable parts of the country’s wilderness. Inflation was whipped at a steep political cost and the judiciary saw its first large influx of women and minorities. Foreign policy achievements included the ratification of the Panama Canal and SALT II treaties, normalization of relations with China, and the Camp David agreement between Israel and Egypt.

Too often, however, Carter could not get out of his own way. He would believe he was right and the consequences be damned. “To the consternation of many liberals,” Bird writes, “Carter seemed to be governing more as a Teddy Roosevelt Progressive Republican than a Franklin Roosevelt New Deal Democrat.” And therein lies a big part of the political problem with Carter’s presidency.

Bird does not shy away from the challenges and defeats of the Carter years, the Iranian revolution being at the top of the list. He was unable to work with the liberals in his own party to bring about health care reform, which led to thirty additional years of disfunction. Bird clearly believes that Carter’s inability to control and ultimately fire his hawkish National Security Advisor, Zbigniew Brzezinski, resulted in numerous crises that were avoidable. Bird is also harsh on the Washington media, including Washington Post columnist Sally Quinn, for the seeming inability to focus on issues that mattered and the unceasing insistence on pointing out that the Georgians in Carter’s world were “just plain tacky.” Republican dirty tricksters — from Roy Cohn, to Roger Stone, to William Casey — were very present and overwhelmed an administration unprepared to deal with day-to-day political warfare. Bird also understands the difficulty of the challenges, and how the issues Carter faced still resonate today.

The 1970s were a tipping point in America, the first time the people would have a voice after the upheavals of Watergate. Change was in the air. In casting my first vote for president for Jimmy Carter, I would soon be a part of what Abraham Lincoln noted was the ongoing fight to see if a nation dedicated to the proposition that “all men are created equal” can long endure.

Democracy is a never-ending battle and, as a southern liberal, Carter was pragmatic in that fight. He called us to our better natures, but in a way that recognized limits to American power, limits to what we could inflict on the environment, and — most importantly — limits to our unilateralism. Carter’s presidency, writes Bird, was ahead of its time with its hopes for reconciliation and healing. As we navigate through the harsh partisanship, political division, and extremism that began with Reagan’s ascension and came crashing down on the country on January 6th amidst Donald Trump’s authoritarian lies, it is that pragmatic yet hopeful belief in the ideal of America that we must seek to regain.

More to come…

DJB

Image: Jimmy Carter official presidential portrait