Drum Teacher reacts to Buddy Rich (Solo from 1974)
MDNDrums / MattMDNDrums / Matt Twitter: @MDNDrums Let me know if this solo changed your opinion of Buddy! Or if it didn’t, what you think of him anyway lol. Original video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxN-w… For more in the drum teacher reacts playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list…
It’s late 2:42. Tired but not sleepy.
Next day 11:15 AM
It’s 1:30 PM and I am finally getting my day started. Here’s today’s selfie. Carmen last night was (I need new words). The music of course which is really what opera is all about anyway was just delightful. In French not Italian. I watched some of it, some of it I just listened to from another room. Really excellent production. Most of them are. It echoes the themes of this blog and really my whole life — maybe all life. We’ll talk about that more when I can gather the words. But suffice it say for now “Maleness/Femaleness”. The battle of the sexes but it’s not really a battle. I need to find the right words. I will. There has to be an integration. But make no mistake, gender is a central theme to this opera and this blog. I don’t know which production of Lucia we will get tonight but I’ll be watching.
Getting stoned is for me very healthy because when I am stoned, I feel my body. I feel the tension in my body. I move, I stretch, I walk, and with opera I even dance a little. So the downside of being stoned is that I forget all the wonderful insights I think of but the upside which far outweighs the downside for me is movement, awareness of my physical presence. So with an opera on I can be stoned and enjoy the music at whatever level I want, watch or not, but then also to move and stretch and feel myself, my body for the 2 or 3 hours that it takes to complete the opera. Now do I wish I remembered what I thought of, sure, but I just let it go and if it comes back then great and if not then great. I tried to send Liz an email last night and I was fucked up so it was pretty incoherent. She still answered that she loved that my hair was all over the backyard and the birds would be building nests this Spring with interiors by Ned.
CIM Lesson 18 — I am not alone in experiencing the effects of my seeing.
3 PM — My quads are sore. Probably from squats and stretches last night. Just sat out of the deck for a few minutes. Not too cold today. 61. I drank a cup of hot chicken broth. Took it out of the freezer yesterday. When I make chicken broth I take the bones and stuff from a chicken (or a turkey carcass) break it all up so the marrow is exposed and then put it all in the Instant Pot. Instead of covering it with water, I cover it with those cartons of chicken broth you buy in the store. I’ll add carrot, celery, onion if I have it and then pressure cook it on high for about 4 hours. Once done, I drain it, throw out the bones, drain the fat off (I have a fat separator cup) and then freeze it and take it out when I need to make soup or like now just have a cup of broth. I use low salt or no salt broth and do not add salt to the broth at all. I salt it to taste when I use it. It was pretty good out there on the deck.
So Stephen called me the other night. Stephen is Jan’s oldest and has been going through some struggles of his own lately. He lives outside of Portland. We had a good chat and remembered the time he and 2 other nephews — Ronna’s 2 oldest — Daniel and Thomas came to Atlanta for the Olympics. I had a girlfriend at the time well really a year and half before the Olympics named Colleen. I’ll talk about her when I got to the post I will make about all the girlfriends. It’ll be best to just talk about them as a group. But Colleeen and I were pretty serious. We were getting close to getting married in the church. I got my marriage with Violet annulled and we had looked at house to move into and well, it was getting serious. I decided about a year and half before the Olympics here in 1996 that I would take 2 weeks off from work and buy tickets to something every day and take Colleen and other friends of hers and mine with us to whatever event we went to that day. Great plan. I bought 4 tickets to something every day of the Olympics but the Olympics were still a year and half away. Don’t know how much that cost — maybe 2 grand. But I decided to just throw myself into it. Other folks were renting their houses out and leaving town. Not me. I wanted to be in it. Well Colleen and I broke up before the Olympics. So now I’m sitting here with 4 tickets to something every day of the Olympics and nobody to go with. Well in 1996 I bought my house in Decatur from the Budnicks. They still live around the corner in a bigger house. But I wasn’t able to sell the house in the suburbs so I was carrying 2 mortgages for about a year there. So I made a deal with Stephen, Daniel and Thomas that I would take them to the Olympics IF they helped me move into the new house in Decatur. Violet had long left with her stuff and I’ll talk about that later too but I was still out there in the suburbs by myself and bored to death. Nothing but chain restaurants out there — Chili’s, Olive Garden, Red Lobster. And nothing for a single guy to do which is why I decided to move into town.
So here these guys are. Stephen is in the middle and Daniel is on the left and Thomas is on the right. Stephen and Daniel were 15 at the time, Thomas was 14. I couldn’t believe it the other night when Stephen told me he was 40 now. They made a cake for me for my birthday and they are displaying it in this picture. It says Happy Birthday Ned in M & M’s on top. Thomas and Daniel are (or were at the time) vegetarians but did you know sugar is a major part of the vegetarian diet of teenage boys. Actually all of them – they loved their sugar. They had raging hormones and even when we went to an event, their eyes were wandering at the the young ladies dressed for Atlanta summer weather. It was funny. One day we went to a handball match between Germany and somebody else. Now this isn’t handball you play one on one against a wall. This is a team sport like La Crosse but played with your hands and a smallish ball and goals at both end of the court. Well a few minutes after the match began, the German rhythm gymnastics team walks in en masse to cheer for Germany. I busted out laughing. These 3 had eyes turned right and missed the entire match as they ogled over these nubile teen age girls. It was that kind of 2 weeks. We all were teen agers running around all over town to all the different venues and checking out not just the sports but the scenery as well. I rememebr when I was that age how confused and aroused I was seemingly all the time. We did miss the bombing in Centennial Olympic Park but we were there earlier that day. So my deal was they had to help me move. Well, and I say this with utmost love, Stephen was the only one of the three that was worth a shit in terms of getting any work done. Stephen has a very strong work ethic which he gets from his dad. The other 2, not so much. Thomas has had struggles his whole life and continues to struggle. Good days and bad days. I don’t really know what’s up with Daniel these days.
Here is Daniel when he was about one month old. I went up to the Oregon coast to meet him and just talked to him over and over again all day long. Ronna said she learned a lot from listening to me tell him over and over again how much I loved him. He is the oldest of all the nieces and nephews. I think he has Stephen beat by about 6 months or so. When all this cancer and Covid is over I am going to take 3–4–5 months and drive to Chicago and see everyone there and then to Washington and see everyone there and then Oregon and then down to California and then back across the Southern route. With any luck, maybe this Fall. Or more probably next Spring. Of course a lot of that is in God’s hands whatever that means to you.
Here’s a nice picture of Ronna when she was younger either right after Daniel was born or right before. She is mother to both Daniel and Thomas. She and I had a good visit on FaceTime last Sunday and she sent another CARE package from Oregon if you know what I mean. She’s a love. Also just spoke with Jan, Stephen’s mother a few minutes ago and got caught up.
It’s 6 PM and I just laid down to rest my eyes and breathe with buddha sitting on my chest. I’m gonna let this fly and get something to eat, watch the PBS Newshour and then Lucia.
How to Respond to Uranus in Taurus (where it’ll be until April 2026)
by Olivia Pepper
Reevaluate your possessions. All of them. Give away or destroy items that are holding you back spiritually, especially expensive items that you do not use.
Stop throwing good things away. Now that you have reevaluated your possessions, take deep and attentive care of the things you own. Patch items creatively and lovingly. When something breaks, turn it into something new. Learn to work with your own hands. Move away from a disposable culture.
Celebrate beauty. Revere the rise of new beauty standards and relationships with gender. Let Uranus in Taurus liberate you from oppressive, rigid modes of viewing physical beauty and presentation.
Practice beholding, displaying, and appreciating a variety of physical beauty.
Transform the way you eat. This can be something that is both luxurious and deliberate. We’ll likely be seeing a worldwide shift in diet and food culture, perhaps even the long-awaited downfall of the agro-industrial complex as we focus on local, bioregional, sustainable, and indigenous food sources
Start a garden. Even if it is just a planter box of herbs in your apartment window, take this opportunity to connect with the process of growing your own food.
Invest in alternative economies. Prepare for the rise of cryptocurrencies and the potential of upheaval in the global financial markets. Begin to participate in barter and gift economies in your communities.
Separate your worth from your wealth. It is hard for us in a late capitalist society to do this. We were raised with the adage “time is money,” but time is not money. Time is not anything except an arbitrary way of measuring our experience in a constantly changing universe.
And, while we’re on the subject, money is not anything either! It is merely an outmoded symbolic system that technology can replace, as soon as we are ready to let go of attachment to hierarchy. You are not your bank account.
—Olivia Pepper, https://tinyurl.com/yxzryb29
A Rabbi Asks Whether America Can Bridge ‘the Sea of Society and the River of Time’ to Atone for Its Sins
“How does one confess,” asked 12th-century Jewish philosopher Maimonides. “He states: I implore You, God, I sinned … I regret and am embarrassed for my deeds. I promise never to repeat this act again.” Courtesy of Public Domain.
by JUSTUS BAIRD | JANUARY 19, 2021 (zocalopublicsquare.org)
The Biblical story of the Gibeonites rarely makes it into the classroom of a Sunday School or Hebrew school, but the tale has much to say to 21st-century Americans.
The Gibeonites, a Canaanite group, forged a pact with the Israelites when the Israelites were conquering the land—but, after a series of twists and turns, wound up their permanent servants. The Gibeonites became “hewers of wood and drawers of water for the House of my God,” according to the book of Joshua.
The arrangement persisted for a few hundred years, until Saul became king and slaughtered the Gibeonites. The Bible doesn’t offer details of the massacre, but it does record that many years after Saul died, during the time of King David, God punished the Israelites for the great injustice by bringing about a great famine.
After three years of starvation and want, King David was desperate to save his people. He met with the few remaining Gibeonites and asked how he could make restitution: “What shall I do for you? And with what shall I make atonement, that you may bless us?”
This story is one of the earliest recorded examples of collective apology. King David wants to apologize and make restitution for the sins of a generation long dead—for actions that he had no hand in—but he doesn’t know how to do it. Today, similarly, many Americans are recognizing the importance of making long-overdue amends to the people we have injured—and encountering the same sort of unsettled uncertainty.
These are hard questions: How do the descendants of those who committed a historical wrong find the will to apologize, atone, and make restitution to the descendants of those who were wronged? And how do the people whose forebears suffered so greatly find the courage to negotiate such an apology and ultimately accept it?
My deep interest in collective apology has two roots, one planted in years of work as a rabbi and the other planted in years of activism in social movements. Listening to people recount the hurt they experienced, and the harm they perpetrated, sensitized me to how infrequently we use the tools of apology. Some communities see themselves as inheritors of deep, and unaddressed, collective trauma. Other communities acknowledge past wrongs but feel no personal responsibility for them.
Collective apology seemed like the tool to change the stories that communities tell themselves. It was also a great spiritual challenge, which is why I made it the focus of two years of sermons for the high holy days, that time in the Jewish liturgical year known as the “10 days of repentance,” when the difficult practices of atonement and forgiveness occupy our hearts and minds.
My first sermon drew upon the work of David Lambert, a University of North Carolina religious studies scholar. His book How Repentance Became Biblical shows that our contemporary notion of repentance has few antecedents in the Bible, and instead is rooted in rabbinic ideas that came later on. If our ideas and practices around repentance had already evolved once, I suggested, they could evolve again. I framed collective repentance as a new horizon for American society. Many congregants told me the sermon sparked table conversations over holiday meals. I felt I was just getting started on the topic.
My second sermon drew upon the research of Samuel Oliner, a Holocaust survivor and scholar of altruism and collective apology. Oliner wrote about how large groups of people—societies and governments—collectively pursued alternatives to violence and polarization. In his research, he found that altruism, genuine apology, and forgiveness, though difficult to achieve, often led to reconciliation.
Oliner tracked down more than 100 contemporary examples of collective apologies. The breadth and depth of his list shocked me. Oliner was able to point to five noteworthy examples from the 1990s alone.
In 1993, the U.S. Congress apologized to native Hawaiian people for the American overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i 100 years earlier. In 1995, the South African government established the Truth and Reconciliation Commission to hear from perpetrators of crimes during apartheid. In 1997, British Prime Minister Tony Blair initiated an apology to the Irish people for British responsibility in the 1840s Potato Famine. In 1998, Pope John Paul II apologized to Jews for the Catholic Church’s not doing more to stop the Nazi regime during World War II. In 1999, the president of the west African country of Benin came to the U.S. to apologize to African Americans for his country’s complicity in the transatlantic slave trade.How do the descendants of those who committed a historical wrong find the will to apologize, atone, and make restitution to the descendants of those who were wronged?
As I studied Oliner’s list, one collective apology caught my attention: a Japanese company’s arduous attempt to apologize to American prisoners of war for harsh labor camps during World War II.
In December 1941, two weeks after Pearl Harbor, Japanese forces attacked the U.S. Army base on the Philippine island of Luzon. Seventy-six thousand troops became POWs; Japanese soldiers marched them more than 60 miles (an episode later known as the Bataan Death March), beating and killing some POWs, while allowing others to die of disease and starvation. POWs who survived were taken to camps in Japan, and contracted out as slave labor to 14 different Japanese companies.
A generation after the war, many people in Japan began to think it might be time to make a collective apology to American POWs. The process dragged on for decades, as Japanese leaders repeatedly issued and retracted apologies, sometimes issuing denials of war crimes and approving textbooks that suppressed the true history. It wasn’t until 2015 that conditions for a successful apology developed, in large part because of a Japanese American named Kinue Tokudome.
Tokudome was born in Japan just after World War II. In her Japanese high school in the 1960s, no one talked about the conflict; it was only after she moved to California at age 26 that she learned about the war. In 1986, when a book by a Japanese author denying the Holocaust became wildly popular, Tokudome became so upset that she spent a year crisscrossing the U.S., interviewing survivors and translating their stories into Japanese.
As she worked, Tokudome met American ex-POWs who talked of their continued hopes for apologies from the Japanese companies that had forced them into hard labor. Sensing an opportunity, Tokudome wrote letters to the companies. Only one responded: Mitsubishi Materials, which had forced 900 POWs to work in the snowy mountains, mining copper for Japanese bullets and submarines.
Collective apologies require an apology broker, someone rooted in the society that committed the act who is empathetic to the suffering of those who were harmed. In the story of the Gibeonites, this was King David, who asked, “What shall I do for you? And with what shall I make atonement, that you may bless us?” In Mitsubishi’s apology to American POWs, this was Tokudome.
Tokudome, in negotiating an apology, partnered with Jim Murphy, an American who had worked as a POW in Mitsubishi Material’s copper mines for captors who instructed, “You work or you die.” Murphy told Tokudome there were three things he wanted to hear in an apology: “I did it, I’m sorry I did it, and I will not do it again.” In this, Murphy identified the three elements of a successful collective apology: admission, regret, and promise. The 12th-century Jewish philosopher Maimonides prescribed the exact same formula: “How does one confess? He states: ‘I implore You, God, I sinned … I regret and am embarrassed for my deeds. I promise never to repeat this act again.’”
Mitsubishi was willing to listen, and after many talks, scheduled a formal apology ceremony for Sunday, July 19, 2015, in Los Angeles. During the ceremony, Mitsubishi executive Hikaru Kimura described the harsh life in the mines, without food, without water, without medical attention. Through an interpreter, he told Murphy, “When I understand the sad truth of the matter, I feel a pained sense of ethical responsibility as a fellow human being. As a representative of Mitsubishi Materials, I apologize to you, deeply.”
Murphy had seen a draft of the statement in advance, but arrived that day still unsure if he would accept the company’s apology. Then, as he watched, seven Mitsubishi executives stood up and bowed at the waist. The bow lasted for 14 seconds. Murphy formally accepted the apology.
I told this story in my second sermon, hoping my community might see an apology issued to Americans as a model for how we might offer collective apologies.
Each of us has been wronged by someone in our lives. We know the feeling of distance, disconnect, and anger that we harbor before granting forgiveness. And anyone who has wronged someone else knows how guilt accumulates until an apology and reconciliation have occurred. We understand the basic process of an individual apology. If we choose not to apologize to someone we have hurt, it’s generally because we can’t bring ourselves to do it—not because we don’t know what an apology looks like.
But the pursuit of a collective apology is more arduous, fraught, and volatile, as past experience—Biblical and contemporary—shows. Trauma and guilt travel through time, and collective apologies, when they happen, generally occur generations after the initial wrong.
A Biblical teaching connected to the Ten Commandments touches on the idea of cross-generational culpability. “God does not remit all punishment,” reads a verse that is repeated in Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, “but visits the iniquity of parents upon children and children’s children, upon the third and fourth generations.” This idea may be anathema to our modern sense of individual justice, but there is no statute of limitations for societal sin. Iniquity committed at the societal level is indeed born by future generations, who are responsible for taking corrective action. The bridge of collective apology must span two expanses: the sea of society and the river of time.
This second sermon generated more reaction than the first, probably because I tried to bring the concept home. I reminded my community of the many collective apologies that we Jews have received in recent memory, for the traumas of the Holocaust and for historical Christian antisemitism. But then I also said, “As an American, I can imagine collective apologies that we will one day make to Native Americans for centuries of crimes against indigenous peoples. And I can imagine collective apologies we will one day make to African Americans for our society’s foundational investment in slavery. And as a Jew, having spent time in the West Bank off and on over more than twenty years, I can imagine collective apologies that the Jewish people will one day make to Palestinians.”
Those lines triggered productive discomfort. “Rabbi, should we really apologize to all of those groups? This one, of course, but that one?” Collective apology in theory is one thing. Collective apology in practice is another.
And yet I see signs that more Americans are more willing to consider collective apologies for some of the societal sins embedded in our past. Or at least I can say, I am ready to help pursue such apologies. I pray that others are too. And if those of us who are ready keep talking to others about it, perhaps we can add the United States to the list of societies that mustered the courage to take responsibility for the horrors of their pasts.
RABBI JUSTUS BAIRD is a senior vice president for the Shalom Hartman Institute of North America, a Jewish think tank and educational institution. He lives in Princeton, New Jersey.
This essay is part of a Zócalo Inquiry, How Should Societies Remember Their Sins?
President-elect Joe Biden’s nominee for assistant secretary of health, Rachel Levine, discussed on July 28, 2020 the transphobia and harassment targeted at her. (The Washington Post)
Jan. 19, 2021 (WashingtonPost.com)
President-elect Joe Biden announced Tuesday that he will nominate Rachel Levine, Pennsylvania’s top health official, as his assistant secretary of health. Levine, a pediatrician, would become the first openly transgender federal official to be confirmed by the U.S. Senate.
“Dr. Rachel Levine will bring the steady leadership and essential expertise we need to get people through this pandemic — no matter their zip code, race, religion, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability — and meet the public health needs of our country in this critical moment and beyond,” Biden said in a statement. “She is a historic and deeply qualified choice to help lead our administration’s health efforts.”
washingtonpost.com © 1996-2021 The Washington Post
(Contributed by Michael Kelly, H.W.)
For centuries, philosophers – and more recently, science-fiction writers – have been concocting riffs and variations on a particular thought experiment: if every bit of your body could be perfectly scanned and replicated, in what ways would the replica still be ‘you’? In this interview from the PBS series Closer to Truth, Andy Clark, a professor of philosophy at the University of Edinburgh, dissects a version of this experiment posed by the US philosopher Daniel Dennett, in which a body is scanned, destroyed, and replicated in a distant place. While science hasn’t yet brought us close to putting Dennett’s conundrum to the test, we can still grapple with the intriguing and perhaps troubling metaphysical questions it raises, questions that might become even more material as we careen further into the information age, including: would ‘you’ be dead, or would your sense of self perpetuate in the copy? And, if you were recreated several times, where exactly might you expect to find your embodied sense of self?
Video by Closer to Truth 19 August 2019 (aeon.co)
By Pam Rodolph, H.W., M.
(Please feel free to continue my list and circulate it)
1. People are awake to government now that never were before. Four years ago, if I tried to talk to a teenager about government, all I got were “eye-rolls” and blank stares. These same teenagers now know more about government than I do.
2. We should be grateful we’re awake now to how bad it can get. We were schooled in the weaknesses in our government. Now we can do something about it.
3. We learned we can’t be complacent when it comes to government. I doubt we will take our government for granted for sometime to come.
4. People now know their vote counts and that government is understandable.
5. We will be better at recognizing pitfalls.
6. We have a new respect for politicians. After all, you wouldn’t go to a ditch digger to get your fingernails painted.
7. For the betterment of ALL of us, civility is not an option, especially for our leaders.
8. If anyone was ever in doubt, we’ve had a very good example of rogue mind versus sanity and wisdom. Making this SO visible is to help us make clear choices. I think we should continue to translate sense testimonies centered around believing lies for a long time as, even if they become invisible once again, we know the alt right is not only there but far more massive than we thought. .
9. I feel sad that I don’t feel reverence watching the President’s helicopter disappear in the distance as he leaves the White House for good. But in the same vein, I would have never thought I would feel like crying over a President’s Inauguration.
10. I think Americans have a new appreciation for our Constitution and how it holds together under incredible adversity. It is surely a thing of beauty !!!!
PBS NewsHour Amanda Gorman, a 22-year-old poet, read an original work at President Joe Biden’s inauguration on Jan. 20. After Biden was sworn in as the nation’s 46th president, Gorman read “The Hill We Climb,” building on a tradition of poets — including Robert Frost, Maya Angelou, Elizabeth Alexander and Richard Blanco — who have read for incoming Democratic presidents. Gorman is the youngest of these inaugural poets to offer her verse. Stream your PBS favorites with the PBS app: https://to.pbs.org/2Jb8twG Find more from PBS NewsHour at https://www.pbs.org/newshour Subscribe to our YouTube channel: https://bit.ly/2HfsCD6 Follow us: Facebook: http://www.pbs.org/newshour Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/newshour Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/newshour Subscribe: PBS NewsHour podcasts: https://www.pbs.org/newshour/podcasts Newsletters: https://www.pbs.org/newshour/subscribe