brainsplotch

I'm writing this from my phone, while watching Gangnam Style on  New Years Rockin' Eve or whatever it's called these days. This television experience is not one I've chosen myself--I want to make that clear. I just want to wish everyone out there a Happy New Year.

I'm taking a break from politics to switch gears entirely, (though it could be argued that this post is somewhat political). First a little background. In 1988-1989, when I was a junior at Michigan State, I took a particular interest in the 1961 Detroit Tigers baseball team. The '61 Tigers were quite possibly the greatest 2nd place team in baseball history, winning 101 games but still finishing 8 games behind the pennant winning New York Yankees. '61 was also the first year that the Tigers had prominent black players who made significant contributions to the team. The Tigers were, unfortunately, tardy to the integration of baseball. Almost every evening from autumn 1988 through almost all of 1989, I spent a minimum amount of time on my school work and trudged over to the MSU Library to study microfilm. I took voluminous notes on the '61 team, from infomation gleaned mainly from microfilmed back issues of the Detroit Free Press and a few other newspapers. I have ove...

At home with a sick kid, watching A.N.T. Farm on Disney Channel. I'm still thinking about Friday's horrific mass shooting in Newtown, Connecticut, though I have done my best to avoid the news and I reflexively turn away when I see school photos of the little children who were murdered. I just can't take it. Like I wrote in my previous post, I am cynical and question whether anything will be done legislatively after this incident. Is it that much to ask why ordinary citizens need to own semi-automatic weapons? Here is how I see it: Those who argue that it's perfectly fine for civilians to own semi-automatic assault weapons are those who swear by the Second Amendment, and are also distrustful of the federal government (the "tyrannical government") and feel that they need these weapons in the event that they need to defend themselves from the government if and when it becomes "tyrannical." To be blunt, I think there is a lot of (unjustified and irr...

Dick DeVos, Rick Snyder, and the conservative contingent in Michigan got their way. They have made the first step in undoing everything that this state was built on. Let the union busting begin. I attended the protest at the capital building for about an hour on Tuesday morning. The union crowd was spirited and a little raucous, but I didn't experience any of the violence that allegedly took place later. My impression is that most of that violence was overblown. I'm now coming to you in the wee hours of Saturday, the 15th of December. The Michigan state legislature passed several bills that, in my opinion, set the state back many years. Most of these bills went through in a marathon session late last night. To top off this bad week, the U.S. had yet another mass shooting, this time at an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut. I suppose unless you've been living in a cave, you already know. As usual, there is the usual hand-wringing and calls for gun control by the...

(NOTE: Apparently, somebody in cyberspace doesn't like the photos I took of the Tragically Hip show, because they vanished). On Wednesday, L. and I went down to see The Tragically Hip at the Fillmore (formerly the State Theater) in Detroit.  As I've gone on ad infinitum in this blog, I am a huge fan of The Hip, so I was giddy for this show. Unlike the last time I recounted a concert experience in this blog (our aborted attempt to see Meat Puppets last November) we actually saw the band we intended on seeing.  The Hip had no opening act and hit the stage at about 8:15 PM. Negotiating the freeways in Detroit always leaves me a little frazzled, so I was a bit dazed when we finally parked the car in the structure across the street from the Fillmore. We went from one confusing line outside the theater (guys strapping paper wrist bands on those who intended to drink alcohol) to several take-no-shit security people in the theater who were way more intense than any airport se...

I just spent about a half-hour debating a complete stranger on Facebook. Why do I waste my time in this manner? It's not worth it. I will not change his mind and he sure as hell isn't changing my mind. The guy, who commented on the post of a mutual Facebook friend, had a Barry Goldwater profile picture--featuring ol' Barry's famous quote, "Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice." That should have been my first clue that this debate would only succeed in pissing off the two of us. I am proud of myself, though, in that in my final post I took the high road and praised my Republican foe for his intelligence and insight. I must say that he at least was able to write thoughtful, though extreme, retorts that demonstrated true intellect.  I knew full well that this "debate," which mainly amounted to the two of us hijacking this poor woman's pro-Obama post, was doomed to never be resolved. It was best to just take the high road, extend an olive b...

My copy of the Tragically Hip's new album, Now for Plan A , finally arrived in the mail today one week after it was released and over a week after I ordered it.  Yeah, I know, I could have downloaded it and been able to listen to it the day of its release, but I'm old-fashioned and wanted a physical copy of the album. I was willing to wait for the thrill of finding the package in my mailbox, ripping it open, and popping the CD in the disc player in my kitchen. I get no thrill from downloading music, and in fact have had some horrible mishaps in which I've lost downloaded music into some electronic black hole, so I will probably be the last person on earth to continue buying CDs. Once I have a chance to give it a proper listen with pen and paper in hand, I'll bore all of you with a little review in this blog.  I like what I heard when I played it earlier today, but it was more background noise as I was busy doing other things around the house. Oh yeah, not only did...

I finished reading a great book called Life after Death by Damien Echols. For anyone who doesn't already know, Echols was one of the "West Memphis 3," a trio of teenagers who were wrongfully tried and convicted for the murders of three eight-year-old boys in Arkansas back in 1993. Echols spent 18 years on death row, while the other two, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Misskelley, Jr., were serving life sentences. Last year, the three guys, now in their mid-30s, were finally released from prison when they agreed to an Alford plea. The completely bizarre Alford plea essentially allowed the three men to acknowledge that the State of Arkansas has enough evidence to convict them while still maintaining their plea of innocence--and this allowed them to be released from prison. Makes no sense, right? Essentially, it allows the State of Arkansas to cover its own ass, because if the WM3 went to trial again, they would be found not guilty and would be able to sue the state for millions o...

Hi folks, I'm still alive. I know I've said it before, but it seems as though I never make it to a computer long enough to write a blog post (except when I'm at work, and I'm not allowed to blog at work--for obvious reasons). So what's new with me you ask? I've been reading quite a bit lately, for one thing. While on vacation, I picked up an old book called Going All the Way by Dan Wakefield. It's a coming-of-age story ( bildungsroman , if you will) that takes place in 1950s Indianapolis. The book has been a pleasant surprise and well worth the $3.50 I spent on it at the used book shop in Munising, Michigan. The used book shop in Munising is this place: Falling Rock Cafe, Munising Great food, good coffee, and used (and some new) books. It replaces the dearly departed 84 Charing Cross, which was the previous book shop in Munising that closed back in about 1999 or 2000. So if you are passing through the upper peninsula, or plan on going on the Picture...

(I started this blog post on August 21, did not finish it before I went on vacation, came back to it after vacation, and just ran out of steam. Here it is, warts and all--and it has plenty of warts): I'm off for a five-day camping vacation in the Upper Peninsula, and will be on the road starting tomorrow morning. I've wanted to post in here for a while, so here goes. Better to do it now before I'm off the grid for almost a week. I'm just going to let it fly and not worry too much about grammar, spelling, linear thought, paragraph construction, or the like. Just write like I did back when I was 21 and lamely and unsuccessfully ripping off Jack Kerouac. (Doesn't almost every American male go through a Kerouac phase? And if you don't go through a Kerouac phase, you go through a Jim Morrison phase at about the same time or maybe younger. In any case, it was a  rite of passage for every sensitive, English-major-ish guy back in the '80s, probably not so much a...

I feel bad that I have not posted since early June, and am in danger of going "0 for July", so let me just update you on what I've been up to, since I'm sure you're all dying to know. July was, quite unintentionally, "Mark's Surgery Month", or "Mark's Hernia Month".  In late June, I went in for my annual physical, and my doctor discovered a hernia.  On her recommendation, I went to a specialist and he recommended--or more accurately, commanded --surgery.  So on July 17, I had the hernia repaired.   I had never been under general anesthesia before, so I was nervous beforehand, but it really was a piece of cake.  I remember absolutely nothing about the surgery: one minute I was pulling myself from the gurney to the operating table, and what felt like two seconds later, I was waking up in recovery.  The whole thing has made we wonder about the nature of time. Does time really exist or is it merely a human construct. It's like the who...

Jacob G. Revels Jacob G. Revels (1863-1944) is one of the many people I profiled in my book, The Portland Area, 1869-1939. Along with Pedro Pratt, previously discussed in an earlier Brainsplotch blog post,   Revels was one of a handful of African-Americans to live in Portland, Michigan in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  I guess for this reason, he became of special interest to me.  Okay, not just "of  special interest"--who am I kidding?  I became completely   fascinated with Jacob Revels. The first time I ever saw the above portrait of Revels, in the 1969 centennial history of Portland, the questions flooded my brain. How did this man end up in, of all places, Portland, Michigan?  What led him to Portland? What was it like to be one of the only black people in a rural Michigan village only a few decades after the end of the Civil War?  Unfortunately, I have not yet been able to answer these questions, but it hasn't stopped me ...

Levon Helm (1940-2012) Within the last few weeks, we've lost two musical treasures, and two guys I have admired for many years, Levon Helm and Adam (MCA) Yauch.  Both men died of cancer: Levon at age 72 and MCA at the ridiculously young age of 47.  The loss of these two great musicians has led me to dig out their discographies--thankfully I have a lot of their stuff--and listen to their music with fresh ears and also consider my personal relationship with their respective musical groups, the Band (Levon) and the Beastie Boys (MCA). My parents had copies of the Band's self-titled "Brown Album" and Stage Fright .  I have memories of hearing the Band when I was a kid and just not getting it.  It just wasn't music that had any impact on me as a youth.  Plus, the five guys glowering on the cover of the "Brown Album", unsmiling and with big beards, just looked mean and scary (except, perhaps, for Garth Hudson. He could have passed for Santa Claus...

Way back on November 29, 2009, I published the first installment of "Bargain Bin Finds".  It was intended to be the first in a long series of record reviews in which I philosophized and pontificated about whatever cool record or CD I found somewhere on the cheap.  Though I've periodically intended on finally publishing #2 in the series, it never actually came to pass.  Well, you need not wait anymore, because at long last I bring to you a brand new "Bargain Bin Finds". Several weeks ago, my 10-year-old and I were at Schuler Books & Music (a place with which, if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know I have a long and close association--and absolutely adore).  Of course, the second we walk past the bargain CDs, I was like a moth to flame.  I spied The Edgar Winter Group's They Only Come Out at Night and my son saw it and immediately exclaimed with horror, "That's creepy!"--which I found funny because it's...

Hi folks!  How are you all doing? Sorry it's been awhile since I've written in here.  I've been consumed with March Madness lately, and have now just resurfaced after my guys, the MSU Spartans, bowed out of the tournament. So what's new with me, you ask?  Well, I'm looking forward to the start of one of my favorite TV shows, Mad Men, which finally starts its new season at 9:00 PM.  It's been a long wait for the new season, so I am excited. I'm still plugging along on my "Bargain Bin Finds" post.  I thought I'd get it done earlier, but it's turned into a monster.  I worked on it a bit today and hope to get it out there within the next week--but we'll see how that goes. Next week is Spring Break, and we've decided to take the kids to North Carolina, where we'll be spending time in Asheville and then driving across the state towards Durham and Chapel Hill.  I had hoped to make it all the way over to Kitty Hawk, but don'...

As I was rummaging through some old college notebooks, I excavated this archaeological find, ca. 1986. It's a list of music videos I'd seen on what was probably one of the first episodes of MTV's 120 Minutes.   This was the time that, as a college freshman, I was discovering what was then referred to as "college music".  I can distinctly remember being home from Michigan State, perhaps for either Thanksgiving or Christmas break '86, and staying up late in my parent's den watching this particular music video program, all the while feverishly writing down my (now) laughable observations.  Many of the bands on this particular program are artifacts of the '80s, and are now simply footnotes in musical history. Unfortunately, I only wrote down the artists' names, and not the song titles (with the exception of New Model Army's "51st State").  Maybe I only had time to write the artist name and didn't bother with the song title--I don...

Hello, friends in cyberspace.  I'm here to let you know that I'm slaving away on a few posts that I hope will eventually see the light of day and be reasonably entertaining. Right now, I am up far too late on Saturday night and really need to go to bed, so I'm going to say goodbye now.  Perhaps I will add more tomorrow.

This is an experiment to see if I can post from my phone. It may be successful. ...and it was, though I made several typos that I have since corrected.

Okay folks, I don't know what the hell was up with yesterday's post, and I have no idea if it even made any sense.  That's what happens when one starts writing at 11:00(ish) PM after being up since 5:30 AM: one comes up with some bizarre, incoherent fever dream.  But it is what is (which is probably crap) and I'm going to leave it up anyway. Here are some random observations from the world around me: Our 17 year-old cat Shadow and one year-old toy poodle Bodhi are an endless source of amusement.  They have a fascinating relationship, if it can even be referred to with that term.  Bodhi always wants to play, and tries to engage Shadow in playtime by feinting with him as if he, Bodhi, was a toreador.  Shadow usually sits still, swatting and hissing at Bodhi.  Shadow is completely fearless and usually gets in some good licks.  The cat has faster fists than Muhammad Ali had in his prime.  Bodhi thinks this hissing and swatting is wonderful, and th...

It's funny to me that just a few days after I posted my "Grandparents' cars" post,  Josh Wilker, author of the blog Cardboard Gods (and the book of the same name) has a new post about the first rock concert he ever attended (AC/DC in 1979, if you're keeping score at home) in which he writes "... I think my generation, perhaps the most backward-looking generation yet to walk the earth, is the first blessed with ample concrete evidence and artifacts of what, in earlier times, would have been the utterly transient particulars of fleeting youthful experiences."  (Wilker, who is almost exactly my age, is one of the most perceptive and fluid writers around, and I have to admit I am supremely jealous of his talent).  The point he's making is that with the internet and all the far-flung and obscure information it contains, we Gen-Xers (who do seem inordinately obsessed with our youthful experiences) are able to double check and verify all of our ghostly mem...

1965 Pontiac Bonneville 1968 Dodge Polara This may be interesting only to me but, hey, it's my blog--so nah, nah.   In my previous post, I mentioned my grandparents' cars: the first two that I can remember, in any case.  Above is the 1965 Pontiac Bonneville (to the best of my recollection--and upon research, I've narrowed it to the '66 model), and the one featured in this vintage advertisement looks exactly as I remember my Grandma C.'s car.  Oh, how I loved that automobile.  I can distinctly remember the large steering wheel, which was sort of an opaque gold, almost like amber. One could almost see straight through the steering wheel.  And the chrome.  Both this Bonneville and my Grandpa N.'s '68 Polara (pictured below) had a fair share of chrome.  Though they were put of shame by the automobiles of the chrome-crazy '50s, these cars of the '60s had just enough to accentuate their streamlined bodies and interiors. So why were ...

Hi folks, just checking in while I have a few minutes (or so I think...we shall see). In an earlier post, I mentioned that, on Martin Luther King Day, we'd be going to the North American International Auto Show.  (Nothing honors Dr. King's legacy more than slobbering over new cars, eh?).  As it turns out, that trip was delayed until Saturday the 21st.  Half of the adventure was just getting to Cobo Center in Detroit.  We had trouble with our van's windshield washer that required us to pull over and fix it.  Then, as we were approaching Detroit via the Lodge Freeway, we were diverted off the freeway because of a car accident.  So all told, it probably took us an additional hour-and-a-half to get to Cobo Center. The auto show itself was insane--incredibly crowded.  It was fun to see all of the different cars from practically every auto manufacturer, foreign and domestic, you can imagine; but I dared not take my eyes off either one of my kids for more t...

Random thoughts on a Thursday evening: I had to go the dentist yesterday for my semi-annual cleaning.  I do not enjoy going to the dentist, but not for the reasons you might think.  I can take the poking and prodding of my mouth with steel utensils.  Sure, it's not what one would consider pleasant, but it really doesn't bother me that much.  The main reason I dislike going to the dentist is the inevitable "flossing lecture" I receive from my somewhat high-strung and dentally pious hygienist.  The thing is, I really do floss, just not the three times daily that she demands.  Is there anyone in the world, outside of dentists, who actually flosses three times daily?  If there is, I would really like to meet this person (or persons). Anyway, the semi-annual flossing lectures are annoying, to say the very least.  I feel like saying, "I'm 43 years old, I'm set in my ways, I ain't changing.  If you don't like my teeth, I'll find som...