The moment Punk Rock was born

Some may disagree, but I believe Punk rock is one of the few movements that's birth can be pinpointed to an actual moment in time. October 20th, 1967 The Doors played a concert in front of a bunch of drunken frat boys in University of Michigan's Yost Field House in Ann Arbor. Morrison, himself so intoxicated the show had to be paused and restarted, became irritated by the attitude of the crowd who chided his long hair and "girly" hippie attire. Morrison decided to mock the crowd by singing in a false falsetto voice, and squirming in a provocative, satiracly feminine frenzy. He berrated and taunted the preps in between sets and the crowd responded by throwing objects at him and yelling insults. It became quite ugly to the delight, it seems, of two people in particular: Morrison and a high school student in the audience, James Osterberg. The boy who would be grow up to become Iggy Pop was struck at that very moment with an idea for a new possible performer-fan relationship. A relationship fueled less by envy and worship, and more on confrontation, mutual aggression, angst and violent expression. James left that concert with the wheels turning in his head and soon began experimenting with new stage personas, tactics and provocative sets. When he took these ideas to New York City, he spread a virus to all the early Punks who started the NY, London and West Coast Punk scenes. No one was doing this before Iggy, and all the early punks saw an Iggy show at one point or another. I think the simplicity, the do-it-yourself attitude and the anti-rock god elements of Punk may have been an inevitable response to the state of commercial rock at the time, but the Punk attitude may not have ever caught fire without Iggy's influence.

Thus, I can make the bold statement: Punk, like most great things, was born in Ann Arbor, MI.

DOB: October 20, 1967

Location: Yost Field House

Is faith a popularity contest?

The very foundation is flawed.

It get's a little tricky when you actually read the bible

Should we all be more aware of public policy?

§  While I'm not worthy to criticize the great Bertolt Brecht I have to say I disagree. The truth is that no matter where you go – and all throughout history - most people do not want to study and toil and fight to keep their leaders on track. They want to live their lives. That’s it. They want to work and spend time with their families, have a little fun, eat a nice meal, love and chat. There is nothing wrong with that. Sadly, the powerful will always take advantage of that basic human truth. But the answer isn’t to expect everyone of become aware and educated about public policy and get involved. It’s up to us. Those of who do want to put in the time and energy and passion to get involved.  It’s our job.  When we realize how few of us there actually are, we can’t get discouraged; we need to use that to get even more motivated. We need to work that much harder on behalf of all our neighbors. I’m not the least bit interested in joining the PTO, but I’m damn glad there are others who are. I benefit from their efforts, even though I contribute nothing. We each have a role to play in this world. Don't curse those who have a different part to play. Do your thing like a man or woman possessed so everyone else can do theirs without fear or limits.

Memories of 9/11 - I'm a lucky man!

Every September 11th for the rest of my life, I’ll be reminded both of the depth of evil that humans are capable of and how lucky I am to have the family and friends I have. When it happened I was fortunate enough to have a boss who – even though we were in the middle of a very important meeting people had traveled from all over the state to attend – immediately sent everyone home to “take care of your families.” I was lucky enough to have a good friend who was a child psychologist who coached me through how to talk to my 11 and 13 year-old daughters about the tragedy as I sped home. But most of all I was lucky enough to have two incredible daughters who handled the news better than even the most mature and insightful adults. After I hit all the talking points suggested by my brilliant friend, I asked them what they were feeling. Without a second’s hesitation, the only thing they wanted to know was what they could do to help. I said, “Uh… okay!” We heard about a group who was collecting supplies for the hoped for survivors (we didn’t know at the time there would not be any) and the emergency responders. After a trip to the store we headed to the collection point in a little Ford Escort stuffed with batteries, bottled water and other suggested items. Honestly, my mind was racing and I had no clue what to do – but my young daughters knew the answer was simple: find out what we can do to help and get busy! What amazing girls.

I certainly don’t believe in god and I’ve become generally skeptical of other “spiritual” theories. However, events occasionally force me to reconsider. There’s the big stuff: love, the birth of my children, natural splendor. But what really gets me is the potentially divine camouflaged as routine. So, this happened to me again today: Of all the mountains and mountains of pages published every year, somehow the exact pages I need to read happen to find themselves before my eyes at the exact moment I need absolutely need them. Today it was a book I’ve considered reading at least a half dozen times – even checked out of the library and checked back in unread - but never got around to. But there it was today, after a series of unbelievably dramatic and borderline tragic moments (that now seem almost scripted) left me shaken, shamed and lost. I’ll try to describe the impact of this novel without hyperbole or melodrama, but the first two chapters touched me to my core and illuminated everything (okay I failed). I guess if something as crazy as a platypus could come to exist by circumstance, chance and natural selection, so could these books find me at the right time. But today, trying to read through tears, I wonder…