It Was a Great Time to Be a Saxophonist

Man, I'm bad at this blogging thing. One year and one month ago I posted about Space Camp, and promised it wouldn't be another whole year until I posted again. Guess what...

I even started a WordPress blog a few weeks back, hoping a change of servers would get me back in the game. It didn't. I'm a stinky blogger. When I went back in today, I found that my WordPress username isn't being recognized, and neither are any of my passwords, so I've decided to come back to Blogger. Hope I don't overwhelm their servers.

Anyway, I've been giving lots of thought to my blogging tendencies lately, and have come up with the following observation: no one really cares what I have to say, so I don't have to worry about what I write about! I have the freedom of irrelevance. A forty-five year old guy doesn't have much for a hipness factor. I'm not really on the cutting edge of anything, except nostalgia. I can go on for quite a while about the pitfalls of aging if you want, as I watch my parents' health deteriorate. That could make for some serious belly laughs. Even my kids don't provide quite the same fodder as they used to; sophomores and eighth graders are pretty self-sufficient and aren't quite as prone to malapropisms or missed meaning the way they used to be. They are, however, pretty funny and awesome in their own rights, and I would much rather read what they have to say than anything I write. We'll work on that.

But today I think I'll write about something near and dear to my heart: 80's music.

A couple weekends ago, the family and I were crammed into the pickup, dropping off a bed for my mother for her new room at Woodlands Memory Unit. But I don't want to get off on a tangent on my parents' aging...

On the radio (yes, sometimes we still listen to the radio, rather than plugging in an mp3 player) there was a re-run of the American Top 40 from July 24, 1982. Casey Kasem's voice sounded as vital as it did bak then (probably because it was recorded, well, BACK THEN...) and far better than Ryan Seacrest's ever did.

You know what I found, as my son cringed uncomfortably in the back seat, and I sang along shamelessly to songs that (for good reason, it turns out) I'd forgotten existed? EVERY SINGLE SONG HAD A SAX BREAK. Do you remember the early 1980's, when saxophone equaled emotion? Kind of the same way cello=emotion these days? Strangely, all it took was a bar of each of the songs for me to say "Oh, yeah, 'HEY, PLAY THE GAME TONIGHT/CAN YOU TELL ME IF IT'S WRONG OR RIGHT/IS IT WORTH THE TIME, IS IT WORTH THE FIGHT?/CAN YOU SEE YOURSELF IN THE BRIGHT SPOT LIGHT/AND PLAY THE GAME TO-OO-NIGHT...' ", while my wife looked at me quizzically, saying "I honestly have no recollection of this song."*

Beyond that, I was struck by how horribly unadventurous the music was. They were the Top 40 songs in America for that week, and there were maybe ten that were worth remembering. That was somewhat reassuring to me. Back then, the Top 40 was what I lived for. I listened every week. I was just beginning to follow more underground music (I literally cheered when artists on this particular countdown such as Kim Wilde, Human League, Haircut 100, Soft Cell and the Motels made the countdown)** but I was still a Top 40 kid. 

But I could name you hundreds of artists now who were much more influential and important than most of these Top 40 artists, but who rarely, if ever, made the countdown. My education as a music buff went far beyond Casey Kasem. And this is encouraging to me now, as I watch my students, and sometimes my own child, idolize the crappiest music out there. I could tell them they won't remember One Direction thirty years from now, but they won't believe me. However, I have faith that their tastes will, for the most part, improve with time. Their horizons will expand. And yet some of them, will still line up for that 1D/Jonas Brothers/Hanson triple bill tour in 2043. I hope they have fun, and are ridiculed roundly by their kids.

But it really dawned on me, the early 80's were a great time to be a sax player. 

*I don't think this song had a sax break. But I don't want to listen to find out.

**Okay, so not every song had a sax break. But most of them did.

It's been so, so long since I last wrote. More than a year...good lord. Sometime last spring, in the middle of writing my Capstone and a couple months before presenting, I made a top ten list of what I would do with my free time when I was done. Re-posting it here would only be depressing, but suffice to say, I've only accomplished about two things on that list. I haven't written more. I haven't written any songs. I haven't played my guitar any more. Mostly my "free" time has been occupied by fretting about things over which I have little control, and playing games on Facebook. Oh, and I have exercised and lost some weight so I could participate in everything at Space Camp. What, you didn't hear? I was chosen to attend Honeywell Educators @ Space Academy in Huntsville, Alabama at the U.S. Space and Rocket Center.

A little over two weeks ago, the day after school let out, I boarded a plane in Portland and headed off to Dixie. Honeywell picked up the tab for my air fare, as well as nearly everything else, during this week. More about the great things Honeywell's employees do later on in this post, but for now I'll continue with the narrative.

Upon landing in Huntsville, I was struck by the variety of aerospace and military contractors represented on the kiosks at the airport. Boeing, Grumman, Honeywell, and many I hadn't heard of; all have a presence in Huntsville. The airport itself looked like Portland: neat, tidy, about the same size. Not a lot of direct flights.

We were instructed to find a person in a blue flight suit near baggage claim, who would collect us and get us on the bus to UA Huntsville. I was disappointed to find the flight suits had been foregone in favor of navy polo shirts. It must have been casual Friday there, too.

After gathering our luggage, about eight of us from flights coming in from Atlanta and Chicago--out of 85 total--got on a bus and headed to campus. My first reaction was that Huntsville looked a lot like Bangor. The dirt was red, and the plants were different, but surprisingly familiar. After a short while the rockets of the U.S.S.R.C. came into view, and what I came to recognize as a Saturn V later in the week, dominated the landscape. Near the Center, we got off the interstate and in a couple of short minutes we were on campus and being dropped off at the dorm.

After a short check-in procedure, and invitation to dinner at 5:30,  I was in my quad, meeting my quad-mate Tyler Johnstone from Sacramento, CA. I took a shower, moved in, and we went down to dinner. I found out Tyler is a teacher in a STEM (Science/Technology/Engineering/Math) program called "Project Lead the Way" . His students start out using Sketch-Up to design in 6th grade, but by 7th grade they are using high powered CAD programs. I vowed to find out more about PLTW. So the even cooler thing I found out about Tyler was that he got a grant from Disney some time back, and they asked to film his classroom. Occasionally the ad still airs on the Disney Channel, so now I have to (reluctantly) spend some time watching the Disney Channel in hopes of catching it. Phineas & Ferb it is. But EVEN MORE impressive: he's a private pilot. But STILL EVEN MORE IMPRESSIVE THAN THAT: as a result of being in California, and having some ties with Disney, he was asked to serve on a panel in Los Angeles about having more reliable science in the movies. Did anyone ever see "The Elegant Universe" with Brian Greene on PBS? Tyler was on this panel with Brian Greene. Have any of you ever seen "The Naked Gun"? or "AIRPLANE"? Jerry Zucker directed those movies. Tyler was on the panel with him, too. That was the panel, those three people. Tyler is pretty impressive...for a young guy...and, spoiler alert, he ended up earning the "Right Stuff" award during our week at camp, signifying the camper of the week. I felt kind of like Michael Scott, consoling himself as being the guy who was able to entertain Dwight Schrute: "Dwight gave a great speech. That's the word on the street, anyway. And I entertained Dwight to no end with my bar story, so I captivated the guy who captivated a thousand guys. Can you believe that? A thousand guys."

After dinner we found out there would be a bus running to Wal-Mart at 7. If you know nothing about teacher conferences, know this: teachers love to socialize. And sometimes socializing is facilitated by trips to Wal-Mart. I was relieved to find that Sam Adams has made it as far south as northern Alabama. By the time we were headed back I was already being referred to as "Sam" and "Variety Pack". I also picked up some almonds, cherries, and grapefruit. It wasn't me, but our trip also led to one broken bottle of wine on the sidewalk. It was kindly replaced at no charge by the store, on grounds of "faulty bottle". Point, Wal-Mart.

That night I was able to get in a short run, though the humidity, even after dark, was absolutely stifling. After a cold shower, I repaired to the t.v. lounge, where I met a few more people from Team Destiny as well as people from other teams. We decided to have a door decorating contest, but I think most people chickened out when they realized there were elementary teachers among us. We knew we had no chance. Tyler and I did, however, fashion a little something out of the Sam Adams Variety Pack box for our door. It looked classy. The final thing we decided was that whenever we heard the words "Team Destiny" that we would do jazz hands. It just seemed right. Quite late, another busload came in from the airport, bearing our third roommate, Tim from Washington (state). Later on would come Josh, from Minnesota, sometime after the rest of us had gone to sleep.

The next morning we boarded a bus at 7:30, and headed to the USSRC for breakfast and to start our day of Space Academy. Not long into the morning, we found out how strong fate can be. We filed into the auditorium to meet our crew trainers. Team Destiny (JAZZ HANDS!!!) met our crew trainer, Michael Kelley, who was a microphone guy (male cheerleader) for the Auburn University Tigers. Michael, whenever showing enthusiasm or excitement, gave spirit fingers. Not quite jazz hands, but pretty similar.

I'm going to have to end this entry here, and pick up later on. I promise not to take another year before my next post.

Sharpen Your Bubble

The other day at the beginning of school, I passed a couple of my homeroom students in the hallway. One of them embarrassedly said something like "oh my gosh, Mr. Buck, I didn't mean to say that with you there!"

Not having heard what she said, I told her "I don't know what you said, but if it was that embarrassing you should probably be more aware of your surroundings. What I thought I heard you say was 'sharpen your bubble'."

This caused some giggling, and we soon began to come up with different meanings for the phrase "sharpen your bubble", as in, "come on guys, sharpen your bubbles!", or "we really need to get our act together and sharpen our bubbles". It can be an admonishment, or encouragement. I love it, and have been using it since. We've decided to try to make it become a part of the vernacular, so if you hear it being used anywhere please tag me back. You heard it here first, and if it becomes a commonly used phrase, we want credit given to my 2010-11 home room.

Don't You Forget About Me

Blogging hasn't been a priority for some time. Simply too much going on around here, and any free time is spent on Facebook. (I'm only half-joking there...)

At any rate, my Capstone is starting to seem surmountable, I feel good when I write, and who knows, with the current economy and state of our school budget, having writing skills on which to fall back might not be a bad idea.

In true procrastinator's form, here is an (incomplete) list of things I can't wait to do when my Master's degree is done:

1) Eradicate all evidence that Microsoft Word ever lived on my hard drive. For the purposes of being able to communicate with my professors, and trade papers back and forth, it has been necessary for me to keep using Word to write this paper. It is redundant and inferior, and I can't wait to throw it out the Window. (See what I did there?)

2) Blog. And write. And write, and blog. Maybe I'll write my book.

3) Play my guitar. My calluses are gone, but every now and then I still pick up my guitar and realize how much I enjoy playing. I want to put together a set of classic punk and new wave tunes that I play on an acoustic guitar, and play them for no one in particular.

4) Write some songs. I saw John Prine the other night. I'm always amazed how he says so much with three basic chords. I want to try it.

5) Ride my bike. My belly's too big, and my wedding ring won't come off my finger.

6) Hang out with my family. I have a great family, and they're growing up and changing by the minute.

7) Learn to use my USB microphone/recording studio.

8) Take pictures with my cool waterproof camera.

9) Live beside the ocean/leave the fire behind/swim out past the breakers/and watch the world die.

That's what I have for now.

I Ain't Afraid of No Ghosts

We took the trip to Portland last night to see Guster.  It's been a while, at least a couple of years, and I wasn't really sure how they would age.  As it turns out, Guster is still great.  As a matter of fact, Rach declared them her favorite band going.  They played a nice mix of old, new, and middle.

Everything about the show was a testament to why we loved them from the first time we saw them warming up for Barenaked Ladies, about ten years ago.  Since then we've seen them numerous times--I want to say six or so--and every time it's been like seeing old friends.

But last night the circle closed a little: a band called Jukebox the Ghost opened for them, and because I subscribe to the YepRoc Records mailing list, we were a few of the only people in the audience who'd heard them prior to the show.  It went like this: YepRoc sent out a link for video of Jukebox playing on Letterman.  I clicked, and was instantly hooked: ("Schizophrenia")


So after seeing that, being a netizen in good standing, I YouTubed them and found some of the songs from their older album: ("Hold it In")


I really enjoyed them, and Weather Lad REALLY dug them.  I ended up buying both albums on iTunes, and then found out that Jukebox the Ghost would be opening for Guster when we saw them!  At that point, I became more excited about seeing the opening band than at any time since Soul Asylum opened for the Spin Doctors.  But the coolest part of the night was just before the show, when we were finishing dinner at Mesa Verde.  I looked up and saw a couple of young, geeky guys headed to a table at the back.  It dawned on me that it was two of the members of Jukebox!  I said to the kids: "Those guys are members of Jukebox the Ghost, and they ROCK!"  They asked if we were planning to go to the show, and made a little small talk ("Hey, my name's Ben, too!"...really nice guys!), then went back to their table.  After a little convincing, the kids went and got Ben and Tom's autographs, and on the way out WL asked if they'd play his favorite, called "Lighting Myself on Fire".  They said "well, we hadn't planned on it, but we'll definitely think about it now!"

Lo and behold, about seven or eight songs in, and with us completely blissed out, they pulled out WL's request, which was no small feat since the song goes about six-and-a-half minutes, coupled with "My Heart's the Same".


So earlier I said the circle was closed a little.  What I meant by that is Jukebox the Ghost will be touring with Barenaked Ladies on their upcoming tour.  BNL was our first introduction to Guster.  Guster was our first (live) introduction to Jukebox.  It makes me wonder who we'll discover when Jukebox is a headlining act.  And they will be.

Don't Call Them Twinkies

With my Red Sox out of the playoff picture, and nearly all the other teams left on my short list of most-despised teams (though the Padres and Giants are fine, Texas is okay, and the Reds have suffered some horrible times since their last go-round) the Twins are my team this October.  Incidentally, I can't wait to hear Dane Cook utter those immortal words: "There's only one...Oc-TOE-berrr!" I hope that brilliant campaign hasn't been mothballed, even though I think it's been Dane's only paying gig over the past four years or so.

So it was kind of cool to hear the Baseball Project, a supergroup of alt-rocker/baseball fans (Peter Buck, Scott McCaughey, Linda Pitmon, and Steve Wynn), had enlisted Craig Finn of the Hold Steady to write and sing a song with them.  The result is predictably contrived, as will be a band that sings only about baseball, but it is obviously written with love and with Finn's inimitable pop-culture referential style.  Whatever, for what it is, it sure kicks the hell out of "Play Ball",  and "Sweet Caroline".  I'll still put "Tessie" and "Dirty Water" up against it--or maybe along-side it--but I envy the Twins their playoff run and the love of one of their bigget fans, Craig Finn.  Click to hear the new best baseball rock anthem, in Hold Steady style:

Keep On Rockin' in the Free World

As much as my wife complains about the late nights and long drives, my wife is still a rocker at heart. If she weren't, she wouldn't bring things like this and this to my attention. Yeah, two of our favorite bands playing in Portland at the same venue in the same week. And she wouldn't ask me if I was interested, because she knows the answer.


(Fountains of Wayne-"Hackensack"...who knew Katy Perry did a cover? Who cared?)


(Hold Steady-"Party Pit"...they didn't play this when we saw them back in April...I may try to contact them and make a special request...)

Then I found out that the mighty James is playing the Paradise Rock Club in Boston on a Saturday night in September. We'll probably make that road trip as well.


(James-"Sit Down"...the guy singing isn't James. He's Tim. James is the drummer, but the band's not really named after him. Don't know why the photographer has to focus just on Tim, but the song is awesome and it's the one Rach and WB danced to in the recital a couple of years ago so it's even more special.)

So as old as we are, the music hasn't left us behind. I swear I could follow my favorite bands around for a living, even as I enter my golden years.