Freedom From The Press

I've posted this a couple of times today...but it is a quote worth repeating. I believe that the reason America is polarized into the "right" and "left" is the result of advocacy journalism. As Mark Twain said "There are laws to protect the freedom of the press's speech, but none that are worth anything to protect the people from the press."

I believe in freedom of speech and in freedom of the press. I do not believe that opinion, hype and propaganda should be labeled "news". When I read about "The War On Religion" and "The War On Women" I am reminded of George Orwell's novel "1984" where "The Ministry Of Truth" used "newspeak" to shape the public's opinion of events. The basic idea behind Newspeak is to remove all shades of meaning from language. A 'war" means there is bloodshed, property destruction and death. To maintain otherwise is misguided at best and dishonest at its' worst. "Hatecrime" isn't far from "thoughtcrime" and the press is using semantics in a dangerous way. This isn't anything new. George Orwell saw this happening while he worked at the Ministry of Information for the British during the Second World War.

No matter what news source you follow, be it Fox News, MSNBC, or Comedy Central, be aware that there is usually a slant or agenda behind almost all news we hear in America today, intentional or not. The most unbiased news source I hear these days is the B.B.C. It of course, can be very dry and boring which is what you get when you remove all of the rating-grabbing gimmicks and subjectivity out of a broadcast.

Listening to Music in Austin,Texas

I started listening to music in the early sixties, and by 1967 I was recording music from American and Canadian Armed Forces radio stations on a Sanyo three inch reel to reel tape recorder. I was a "military brat" and lived in a valley in Deutschland where the two local television stations were received so poorly that our family never watched them. I entertained myself listening to music and reading "Stereo Review", "Hi-Fidelity" and "Audio" magazines. I was making mix tapes for twenty years before I ever heard the term. My equipment improved considerably within a few short years, and I listened to the recommended recordings featured in those magazines. I owned a few Beatles albums, but my father had a collection of big band and jazz recordings. In high school, I was fortunate to be selected for a work study program at the Armed Forces Radio station in Kaiserslautern, Germany. I read the sports scores for the local American High Schools, and played some music requests from students on a weekly program called "The Get It Together Show". (if someone has tapes of the show, get in touch with me as mine were lost in a burglary.)

I learned enough piano and guitar to know that I would never be their master. I can play along with dozens of songs from the sixties and seventies and I get invited to camp outs of middle aged couples as their Karaoke back up.  I get more enjoyment listening to recordings of artists who have mastered expressing feelings through music. As Marvin Gaye once sang, "Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing". He wasn't singing about Coca Cola. Artists like Miles Davis or Jascha Heifetz. Among singers...I realized, through Ken Burns' jazz documentary, that Louis Armstrong, though not necessarily the first to do so, pioneered expression through improvisation on the trumpet and was even more influential as a vocalist. There was a reason Bing, Frank, Dean, Nat Cole, Billie Holiday and countless others named him as a primary influence.  I thank Ken Burns for bringing me to a greater appreciation of his music. Louis Armstrong's "Zat You, Santa Claus?" is now a part of my Christmas Mix C.D. I give to friends for the holidays.

 I began listening to jazz while I was serving in the Army in the seventies, thanks to some brothers with a collection of jazz records. I had a great turntable by then, a Thorens , and we had recording parties where we hooked up multiple tape recorders  and made mix tapes from our collective record collections. In 1977 they were turning me on to Weather Report, Bob James, and Earth Wind and Fire. Of my music, they liked Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd, and The Doobie Brothers. Listening to good jazz got me away from listening to primarily electric guitar music. It was as much a drug in the sixties and seventies as was marijuana.

Much of the new music I buy are what the industry call, "catalog product", albums that were released many years ago but are still available. Classical works, Klaus Doldinger's Passport, Miles Davis alumni and the occasional electric guitar rock and roll album account for most of my purchases. I have more albums that I haven't had a chance to listen to than most folks have in the entire collections, even in this digital download age. There is so much great music that doesn't get listened to because the media is promoting THE NEXT BIG THING. Much of it is just over- produced product.

As I write, I'm being held prisoner in my condo by the South by Southwest music festival. I live in downtown Austin and in the past have gone out to venues to hear the latest bands. Much of it is guitar based rock and roll. If they're on schedule, Cheap Trick is taking the stage about one mile away for a free concert on Auditorium Shore. I have decided not to brave the crowds there this year.

I have decided instead to listen again to the first newly released album I've bought in the last eight years, Sade's "Soldier of Love". Sade is no Louis Armstrong, but she might be the equal of Billie Holiday. Like both of them, she has a voice and style that are instantly recognizable. I wonder if those reviewers who have written that all of her albums sound alike also think that Picasso's paintings look the same. There is poetry in her lyrics and a palette of emotion in her voice. What I hear is not product, but artistry.

Soldier of Love on Amazon.com
Sade's U.S. Web Site Videos of almost all of her most popular songs. Including Soldier of Love.

Hot Dog Dreams

Hot Dog Dreams

Drive down Congress Avenue any weekday between eleven in the morning till two in the afternoon and you’ll see the Retired Dogs hot dog stand on the west side of Ninth St. and Congress Ave. Like many things in Austin, there is a story behind this simple business that the proprietors, Matt Knezevich, and Dick Strobel, shared with me over a few nights of poker. It’s a story of what can happen when a dream, even a small one, comes true.

Matt and Dick have played poker together for almost two decades on the first Friday of the month at Matt’s house. They proposed inventions, hatched easy-money schemes, and shared their dreams with a support group of medium-stakes gamblers once a month down in Matt’s backyard bomb shelter in Crestview. Matt’s wife knew when they bought the house that Matt was restoring the deluxe 1950’s era underground bomb shelter to its’ former glory so his friends would have a regular place to play cards. It had deteriorated into a water-filled breeding ground for tree roaches. Matt’s poker buddies and his brother Anton helped pump out the water, scrub it out and paint it. Matt and Anton installed telephone and electric lines, a small refrigerator and air conditioning. One of Matt’s buddies donated a sturdy hexagonal poker table.

Matt’s younger brother Anton owns and operates his own heating and air conditioning business and has listened to the schemes and dreams for over twenty years, even before he helped turn the bomb shelter into a playing card parlor. Matt and Dick aspired to self-employment, but many of their ideas seemed half-baked to Anton. He was the practical one, both in business and at the card table. Anton worked hard, saved his money and he didn’t care if the bet was only a quarter, he wasn’t staying in if he thought he was going to lose. At many of the games he would give Dick and Matthew motivational advice.

“If you guys were really serious about any of these ideas, you’d quit your jobs and start working to make it happen right now. It’s one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration. You guys need to move from the idea stage to rolling up your sleeves and getting to work. ”

One of the regulars offered that they were like Ralph and Norton from the Honeymooners television show.

Everyone at the table worked hard, self-employed or not. That’s what they all had in common. The idea was to find a way of living where you were your own boss, master of your own destiny. The idea didn’t have to be totally original, though some were. They wanted something simple. There had been enough bureaucracy in their lives, both twentieth and twenty- first century style. The idea they decided to act upon was from the nineteenth century, a simpler time. When they discussed and thought about it, becoming hot dog vendors had a great deal of appeal. It was an idea proposed by Dick one night while he was reminiscing about walking the streets of New York City. When he moved to Austin over forty years ago to attend college, he found a new home, but he missed the Nathan’s hot dog stands of his youth.

Around the time Dick retired from the school district, Matt’s wife was able to retire from nursing. The time had arrived. Matt quit his job as a network administrator and joined with Dick to start a hot dog stand on Congress Avenue.

They took Anton’s advice, rolled up their sleeves and began the process of waiting in city offices, filling out forms, acquiring insurance and licenses, attending food preparation class, purchasing a proper food cart and going through health inspections. Matt spent considerable time sitting around potential locations, counting foot traffic and feeling the vibes of each space. One stood out from the rest. On February 9, 2009, Retired Dogs set up for the first time on 9th Street and Congress Avenue, in front of the courtyard of the I.B.C. bank. One of the managers at the bank came out, shook hands with them and asked if they might need a business account. They opened an account under the name Retired Dogs. Their dream of self-employment was now a reality.

Dick and Matt have simple fair, but they put a lot of thought into every aspect of the product. A Nathan’s quarter-pounder with a large fresh bun, every topping one could desire, all wrapped in a waterproof sleeve. They charge three dollars a dog, even if you get chili and cheese. Drinks and chips are a dollar. If you get change back, it will be with dollar coins. When you visit their stand it’s apparent that being friendly and providing attentive service is fun for them. Other hot dog vendors have opened for business on Congress Avenue. Mike and mike’s is located just a few blocks south of Retired Dogs.

Their menu is almost identical, but they can’t quite capture the karma of two men working out a dream.

Launching a new business in the present economic climate might be risky, but the economy works in Retired Dogs favor. As people look to economize, many downtown office workers find a tasty, quick and cheap lunch a welcome respite from more expensive alternatives. Dick and Matt would be the first to admit that their timing was as lucky as pulling a full house in a game of five card draw. Dick takes the money and Matt makes the dogs. They’re only open from about eleven in the morning till one o’ clock or thereabouts in the afternoon during work weeks. They have plenty of regular customers, and business is brisk. If you go downtown and buy hot dogs from them, you’re watching two middle- aged boys doing exactly what they want for a living. Others might retire to the beach or in the country. These two like the view from Ninth and Congress of a growing and thriving metropolis. They revel in being part of the mass of humanity that is the community of downtown Austin.

The Friday night poker games continue. Matt’s brother Anton hasn’t given a motivational speech to the first Friday regulars in months. He’s content to offer advice when asked but otherwise he leaves the Retired Dogs alone. He has his own business to run. Dick and Matt still bounce ideas around the card table. Matt wonders if they should introduce breakfast tacos or sausage wraps. Dick would like to franchise the Retired Dogs idea to retired couples, perhaps open half a dozen hot dog stands around Austin. If they get that established, he believes they could branch out into other cities in Texas, maybe other parts of the country, maybe other parts of the world.

Anton sits his cards down, and cautions Dick he shouldn’t try to grow too fast. Dick answers,

“I know, but a man’s allowed to dream here isn’t he?”

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