black or white

along with old compositions, some old blog comments resurfaced today. naturally cautious about arguing hot-button topics, i think this was an interesting discussion on nicholas' blog. you can read the original post here:

http://www.candancealittle.com/2007/04/black-and-white-wrong-and-right.html

the discussion continued 25 comments later, ending with one if my own:

Jenni-beck said...
I have been following this exchange, and while I hesitate to jump directly into the discussion, I will comment on a few of the topics mentioned.

One exchange particularly caught my eye:
"The woman and the man are merely experiencing the consequences of their behavior, an important life lesson. Remember, over 50% of women would prefer to have the baby but have abortions due to pressure from the man or her parents."

As a woman, (and furthermore, as a woman who is acquainted with women who have had abortions), I couldn't disagree more with the above statements. Yes, I will concede that, in the majority of cases, the men and women who find themselves contemplating abortion are indeed experiencing the consequences of their actions. What I take issue with is the suggestion that over half those women would prefer to have the babies in question. First, where can the data be found on which that statement is based? I know Nicholas has already addressed this, and I admit that I will be using a far more emotional argument than either of you. However, I think you would be hard-pressed to validate that statistic, because it is not easily quantified. Due to the fact that the issue of abortion is tied to issues of morality, even the emotions/preferences/mindsets surrounding the act itself are not clear-cut, but similarly, lie in grey areas. The emotional questions lie in the very nature of femininity and a woman's role…and as a result, could be spun into at least a dozen tangential discussions on those subjects. On that note, I will say that it interesting to follow the arguments of two men arguing both sides of the debate, but what is woefully lacking in this discussion is a woman's voice. (I only wish I had more time to address the full discussion.)

Historically, reproduction (and the nurturing of offspring) has, for better or worse, been considered the primary role of a woman. Until the very recent past, women were as valued as the number of children they were able to produce. In some cultures, this remains the case to this day. This is obviously considered neither fair nor right to most contemporary women, but thousands of years of history (and a clearly embedded pattern in human nature and nature itself for that matter) cannot be undone so easily. Given that females host the offspring into life, the burden lies with us. It is for that reason that I oftentimes find it difficult to hear the matter argued by men. The issue, while delving into universal questions of morality, is a uniquely feminine dilemma. Infanticide may be committed by either a man or a woman. With abortion, however, the onus seems to fall on the woman. I digress…

Given the moral implications of abortion, a woman's role in society, and the women's role as reproductive enabler, how can this be an easy question for a woman? Of course, it is not, and thankfully, no one seems to be arguing that point. Yet, I question the ability to objectively define the preferences of a woman who has had an abortion. Think about it. Using Nicholas' war example, what soldier would not state that they would have preferred not to kill? If that soldier's primary function is to avoid killing civilians and it nonetheless occurs, where does the fault lie? Is that the soldier's burden or is it the burden of the state that sanctions the war? Would not that soldier, in retrospect, have a tendency to shift that burden off his or her own shoulders? Without use of that clumsy example, would not a woman similarly prefer to cite pressure from significant others or family as a reason for going through with an abortion? Isn't that only natural given what is at stake? We are only human. Can we really objectively define the appropriate female stance on the matter…especially when it becomes a question of morality and of a woman's very natural function? I do not think so. I am not arguing the validity of abortion; I am merely stating that a woman's feelings about abortion are going to transcend what I believe your average man can understand…with all due respect, of course. Perhaps that is why I find it absurd that we argue such things in our courts: laws that pertain to only half the population.

Anonymous said...
OK!!! my son....you have as usual created a wonderful dialogue with good thinking people....I have always been very proud of the fact that you are an intelligent thinker and I do appreciate that my values and ideas have been influential in your thinking process...after all I was the community health educator for Planned Parenthood of Central Oklahoma for eight years and I taught you well my son....And by the way Neil, the issue of termination and the right to choose for a woman....is similar to the Israeli/Arab situation ( if you would like to start a dialogue on that matter, I assure you it will be as everlasing as the termination right issue.....) But for now I would like for you and Neil to get into a discussion of what is Motherhood....with Mother's day approaching....let me hear some of your ideas about what is it to have a Wanted- Loved child that you can mother for the rest of your life..... Motherhood is a priviledge that no one should take if the resposibility is not present and available, because you can never return a child for credit ...please remember that......
Nicholas you are one of my shinning sons and I am a very proud mother.....I love you...(Nicholas') Mom

Neil said...
Good questions are motherhood. I'm a father - one of the great joys of my life - and I assume motherhood is swell as well. Being a parent is arguably the most important thing we'll do in life.Not surprisingly, I think motherhood begins before the baby's brief journey down the birth canal. Arguments used to justify abortion at, say, 7 mos. could easily be used to justify infanticide (economic conditions, privacy, freedom). Intuition isn't always right, but it often is. Ask an expectant mother what is inside her and she'll typically answer, "My baby." She is already bonding and caring for "it.""Motherhood is a priviledge that no one should take if the resposibility is not present and available, because you can never return a child for credit"Amen! You can give her up for adoption. But you can't un-abort a child. Abortion is forever. People change their minds all the time on important life issues - especially when circumstances change. I am completely in favor of children being wanted. But I am against the notion of destroying those that aren't currently wanted and in favor of changing hearts to want the ones that do exist.

Neil said...

Re. the historical perspective - I think it is interesting that someone like Susan B. Anthony would not have been running a PP clinic - see This is feminism?!

Jenni-beck said...

Regarding the historical perspective and the Susan B. Anthony reference, I don't think the Susan B. Anthony quotes really address the point I was endeavoring to make. First of all, I would prefer to see the quotes in their original context. Secondly, the below quote is working on the original assumption with which I took issue:

"[Is the woman] guilty? Yes. No matter what the motive, love of ease, or a desire to save from suffering the unborn innocent, the woman is awfully guilty who commits the deed. It will burden her conscience in life, it will burden her soul in death; But oh! Thrice guilty is he who drove her to the desperation which impelled her to the crime!"

I noticed that the last phrase was bold. This is precisely the type of statement that prompted my initial response. "He who drove her" assumes that it was not a decision the woman in question made herself. I am not arguing that this is not ever the case, but the supposition that women make that decision under male pressure the majority of the time is, to me, impossible to determine.

I respect Susan B. Anthony's position as a personal one. Due to the fact that this blog quotes her without including any particularly relevant arguments backing her remarks, I see her words as opinion. (An opinion to be respected, no doubt.) However, just because a feminist leader supports one idea, it does not make her words the gospel for all those who champion feminist ideals. It is a complex, pluralistic world...even within specific interest groups. I take issue with the contrary assumption on the same basis on which I take issue with so many religious groups. Prescribing whole-heartedly to a belief-system (whether religious or political) without taking the time to form one's own opinions seems only problematic to me. Does this make the task of law-making very complicated and difficult? Of course. Yet, we would be short-sighted and superficially addressing the issue (or any issue for that matter) if we endeavored to over-simplify and classify things as black or white. Alas, my problem with our current political system. Again, I digress!

Secondly, I take issue with the last statement on that webpage:

". . . abortion is the ultimate male chauvinism. . . . abortion rips off women as much as it rips off the unborn, and allows male chauvinists to run free. " -Rev. John C. Rankin

John Rankin? Not sure I consider him the authority on the female perspective, but I doubt anyone would argue that point. The thing that bothers me about his remark is that it doesn't make any sense to me. How is prohibiting the right for a woman to do with her body what she wants not a sign of male chauvinism? Are we to assume this is the case because sometimes, female fetuses are aborted? My opinion is that is a weak argument.

I also noticed the comments below the blog post.
"The ready availability of abortion also makes it easy for men to not even use birth control: 70% of women who abort were not using it at the time. I really don't see why allowing a man to not use a condom so that he enjoys it more, then having the woman abort so that he doesn't have to pay child support, is anything but the height of chauvanism."

I see mention of birth-control and child-support. Interesting alternatives indeed. The thing that I never quite understand is how oftentimes these alternatives are touted as genuinely easy things to obtain. This idea works on the false assumption that everyone is educated about birth control and is able to easily obtain it. The claim was made that birth control is frequently not used in an effort to make the sexual experience more pleasurable for a man. Does this happen? Sure. Yet, is it not as frequently the case that birth control is either not available to everyone, its use not fully understood, or the need for birth control not fully understood? I am thinking of the dozens of teenagers I knew having sex in high school. (Does this mean I associated with a crowd with lax morals? I do not think so. I think there is quite a bit of premarital sex occurring in all schools, parochial or public, to which many people prefer to remain ignorant.) Do all these kids understand how to use birth control? Do they fully understand that birth control is absolutely necessary to prevent pregnancy? Absolutely not. (I distinctly remember overhearing a teenage girl talk about using the rhythm method. I ask you if your average teenager can understand that.) Furthermore, imagine a teenager whose parents do not approve of her sexual activity. Is that child going to be likely to seek advice or support in obtaining birth control from her parents? Of course not. Will she get that guidance from her school? Probably not…and she shouldn't, according to the conservative viewpoint. Does this mean she won't have sex? No, of course she will. So, what is the right answer?

The greater contention I have with this statement is that it suggests that men won't want to use condoms due to the ready availability of abortions. The fallibility in this statement lies in that I would argue that most men (who don't use condoms) don't think about the resulting circumstances of unprotected sex at all. Most men (that don't insist on using condoms) simply assume that the woman is using oral contraceptives…or they are simply not thinking about it. More often than not, even the responsibility of birth control lies solely with the woman.

On child-support, I find the suggestion that, by not having a baby, the woman is saving the man from having to pay child support (and that it is the ultimate chauvinism) particularly absurd. How many women having both wanted and unwanted babies have a difficult time collecting child- support? Is someone suggesting that, if a man isn't thrilled about having a baby, he might be thrilled about paying for one? I doubt it. I can speak from my own mother's personal experience that child-support is not always easy to obtain, even when the child is wanted. In her case, she never received a cent. (Thank goodness my brother was both loved and wanted!) So, given this set of circumstances, a woman is not only burdened with a child, but with the responsibility of potentially caring for it on her own…in the name of stifling chauvinism perhaps?

The main point that I maintain is not that I support abortion, but that I do not believe men understand very much about the female dilemma. I am not shifting the blame to men. To the contrary, it would be ideal for women who choose abortion for themselves (excepting those few who are pressured into it) to boldly (notice I don't say proudly) take responsibility for their actions. Until they do, they form a quiet faction whose thoughts and feelings are allowed to be misinterpreted and miscommunicated. Yet, this is the root of the debate: an issue of privacy. How can a woman even fully explain that type of choice when the act itself carries such a stigma? Even cold-blooded murderers are innocent until proven guilty. Again, with all due respect, I am convinced that a man is ever going to have the full picture. Does this mean all women agree on these issues? No, and I realize that. However, I would be interested to see how a vote would turn out if women (not politicians with agendas) were left to determine these things for themselves.

mem'ries

stuck at home today, i was cleaning out and organizing some files on my computer when i came across something i wrote 10 years ago for my junior english class. the assignment was to retell a fairy tale or well-known story in the style of an american author. and here is mine:

I saw the green thing in the distance. We walked toward the green thing. We walked toward it through the red flowers. They smelled good. Dorothy held my hand and we walked together. Then she let go and I tripped. I saw red shapes. I tried to stand, and I fell onto the grass with the red flowers. I felt tired and started to cry.
"Stop your snivellin." said the grey man with the ax. "Your stuffings comin out."
I stopped crying and got up. The lion looked at me and gave me a flower to play with. The flower was pretty and I liked holding it. Then I got tired and fell down again. I dropped the flower, and I tried to cry. I opened my mouth and made a noise.
Dorothy came to me. "What is it. Are you hurt." said Dorothy. I tried to say. She pulled me up and put straw in my sleeve. Dorothy held my hand again. Dorothy smelled like flowers. Dorothy held my hand and I stopped crying.
"I'll show you what I can do, my pretty." said the lady in the big black hat. I reached for the place where it was warm. I pulled my hand back and there was fire. Dorothy screamed.
"Put it out." Dorothy said. Her voice was loud. Then my voice was loud. The lady in the black hat laughed. She laughed and laughed, and then she went away.
"Hush now." Dorothy said. "You are alright. I'll take care of you."
"You are alright." Dorothy said. "I have to go away now, but I'll never forget you." Dorothy held me. She didn't smell like flowers and I started crying. Dorothy's eyes got red, and she let go and went to the big red balloon. I reached for her, but I couldn't touch her, and I cried and cried.
"Stop that moaning." said the grey man with the ax. "How can anyone get anything done with you whining all the time." The grey man with the ax glared at Dorothy.
Dorothy pressed my hand and I was quiet. She smelled like flowers. She picked up the flower I dropped and gave it to me. Dorothy yawned. We walked through the red flowers toward the green thing and I got tired. The man with the ax layed down in the flowers and tried to sleep. The grey man with the ax layed down, and then Dorothy layed down. She pulled me next to her. She smelled like flowers. The lion tried to pull Dorothy up. He tugged at her arm, and he couldn't keep her up. Then he layed down and went to sleep.
The birds screamed. The birds flew around my head and I got scared. Then Dorothy uncaught me, and she pulled me from the big stick I hung on, and the birds went away. I liked Dorothy. She was pretty and smelled like flowers.
"Who are you." Dorothy said. I tried to say. "Who are you." Dorothy said. I opened my mouth and tried to say. "You dont have a brain, do you." Dorothy said. I made a sound.
"Dont worry." Dorothy said. "I'll take you with me to the wizard. We'll take care of you." Her voice was like wind.
The wind was cold. I opened my eyes and mouth, and I felt something cold and wet go in. Then my mouth was cold. I looked and there was white on the red flowers. Then the white covered up the red, and I started crying. I couldn't smell the flowers.
"Get up, you idiot." said the grey man with the ax.
"Leave him alone." Dorothy said. She reached for me. "You've got to get up." Dorothy said. "It's too cold for you in the snow." She pulled me up.
The lion was already up. He looked at Dorothy. He looked sad.
I got up and we walked toward the green thing through the white.


I walked through the forest, and the shadows of the trees, casting some sort of divine judgement upon me, appeared to follow me wherever I walked. The wind was cold, and I remembered what I had done wrong. My paws were dirty, and I proceeded to clean them, but I couldn't get them clean enough. They were stained red. The red of poppies. Poppies. Poppies for anyone but her. Courage was not mine. It was the tin-man's. Let him have it. Do you have it? Do you?
I never had it. Because the wizard said he couldn't give it to me anyway. He said if I were to ever have it, I'd have to get it myself he said. He said men lie about being cowards.
The shadows followed me. Followed me out of the forest and into the field. Yes. That's what happened. The shadows followed me into the poppies. That's why she fell asleep. The shadows. No, I remember, the shadows came after the poppies.
I licked my paws again, but they wouldn't come clean. Only red. Red. Red.
Why did she lay down in the field and not in the palace? Why?
And after I watched my shadow on the leaves, I saw it. I saw him. The other lion leaped from the bushes and took his prey. What did I do wrong? I should have killed all of them. I did.
The witch hurt her, but I should have done it. I should have eaten her, but I couldn't. If only I could say Witch. We were all wrong to her. All four of us. But she said get Dorothy out of my land she said.
In the shadow of one particular tree, I saw a red apple. I took it in my paws. I knew it would taste good, but then the red became brighter, and I couldn't eat it. Couldn't eat it. The red. The red on her. Would she have eaten the apple?
I wanted to talk with you I said and he said he knew
he said he knew everything he said
I said wizard, why am I so afraid
and casually he said everyone is
But why am I a coward when I am a lion I said
he said you'll find out some day he said
and I please help me find strength and he strength is only yours to find and I why did she do it and he because it is like a woman to succumb to spells and I why couldn't I stop it and he you tried and I I just couldn't get her up and he I know and I I failed and he she's not your responsibility and I why couldn't I eat her then and he did you want to and I no and he you worry too much and I I only want to be what is expected and he there is your mistake
Red poppies. Red on my hands. Red. Red. Red.


Once a bitch always a bitch, what I say. She should work like me, cutting down apple trees all day long, instead of wearing those damn gawdy-looking, ruby-colored shoes. She goes tripping down that yellow-brick road with that idiot of hers and that feeble feline and expects me to believe in her schemes. I'll drink to that! I don't need a heart anyway. I'll get everything I need when I sell those apples of mine. Still she says,
"But you've got to come with us to see the wizard--"
"What do I need with a wizard?" I ask her.
She thought about it for awhile.
"If you don't have a heart, then you'll never love."
I reply that I don't need love either and that she better stop bothering me or I'm liable to knock her upside-the-head with the butt of my ax. You see, no one ever appreciates the simple fact that I need to work. I need to work all the time, and I don't need to be trapsing off to any damn Emerald Cities anytime soon.
I start to think about the witch, though. She's pretty old. Obviously, the old bag's gonna die soon. Moreover, she can't be too quick on her feet or with that broom of hers. If I were to go with the stooges, I may have myself a chance at the witch and her treasure.
So, I went with them. Mind you, it was irratating as hell. The fool was always moaning and crying and losing his straw-stuffing, and the lion was always worrying about his shadow or his dirty paws or something. I'll tell you something, though. Those paws were more worthless than dirty to me. That lion probably never worked a day in his life, let alone ever killed anything.
As we were making our way to Emerald City, it rained. Of course, you know that rain is just about the worse damn thing that can possibly happen to me. That's my luck for you. But that Dorothy didn't help my luck none too much, either.
I never did get any money from that witch, or even the heart that was promised me. I didn't get nothing at all, as usual. It just goes to show you that you've got to depend on yourself, 'cause no one else out there will be looking after you if you don't. I'm just happy that that girl is gone for good over that goddamned rainbow. Now I can get back to my own affairs.

*********************
it's fairly easy to guess which novel i was imitating. please be kind, as i was 17 when i wrote this...

the sage words...

of mr. joe crump. future rockstar columnist. couldn't agree with him more.
reposted from his blog:

querulous conservatism

In 1962, after losing the California gubernatorial contest, Richard Nixon despairingly remarked to reporters (I like to imagine it with violin accompaniment), "You won't have Nixon to kick around anymore, because, gentlemen, this is my last press conference." Perhaps you are pondering- why would the press be so wicked and cruel as to "kick around" the Republican candidate running for Governor of California? If you are fortunate enough to own a radio, then you might tune into the Sean Hannity Show (or any other conservative talk radio) to satisfy your inquiry. Sean's answer is simply that "the press" or "the media" disproportionately targets Republicans because, being entirely comprised of liberals, it is invested in America's defeat. This line of reasoning is, of course, utter balderdash. That conservatives found the need to establish a right-leaning Wikopedia and Youtube, since the general public is now thought to have a liberal bias, is laughable. Nowadays, one thing that definitively characterizes the right, at least for the most part, is its Nixonian paranoia and antipathy regarding the news media.

True, the left controls most of the newspapers. And, the left will always have a monopoly on the arts- actors, comedians, musicians, and Kanye West. But I think we can all agree that the overwhelming majority of Americans get their news from that wondrous box of meretricious infotainment, where FOXnews reigns supreme. I would be remiss if I failed to mention talk radio, lest they should scream even louder in order to be noticed, where the right dwarfs the left. There are also conservative publications like the National Review, the Weekly Standard, Human Events, etc. In other words, the right has its own prodigious and formidable news media that is, for all intents and purposes, an endless fusillade aimed at the Democratic Party. Respectfully, it might behoove Mr. Hannity's constituency, before they decry the "omnipresent" and "inescapable" liberal media, to consider the innumerable avenues of thought controlled by Rupert Murdoch, not the least of which is FOXnews- "Real journalism: fair and balanced. That's why we're No. 1 — FOX News Channel." But does anyone really doubt that it leans to the right? It is also worth noting that, if FOXnews is, in fact, "No. 1", then they must be the "mainstream media" that the Hannitites bemoan so incessantly. According to Merriam-Webster's online dictionary, the word mainstream means: "a prevailing current or direction of activity or influence." Thus if FOXnews is the most watched news network, as its punditry often asserts, it is also "mainstream." Hannitites are kidding themselves if they think that their champion and his cohorts have aptly labeled themselves the "new" or "alternative" media. It is also more than a little remarkable that Sean Hannity and Bill O'Reilly can complain about the ubiquity of the liberal media and then, in the same sentence, boast their own exorbitant ratings. Let us hope that I don't need to explain why that is absurd.

I wish to stress that it is not the bias that I find irksome, it's the whining. Isn't it possible to be anti-gay marriage, anti-evolution, pro-life, pro-guns, pro-tax cuts, pro-Nascar, pro-small gov't, pro-death penalty, and pro-torture without being so querulous? Stop calling the media "liberal" or "elite" and start calling it what it is, indolent and sensationalistic. To the media en masse, Paris Hilton's profligate behavior is more newsworthy than 9/11 and all the right can do is whine about how they are out to destroy George W. Bush (as O'Reilly asserted in between his softball questions to Mr. Bush in a recent interview). Other than Bush's plan to privatize social security, has the liberal media stopped the Bush administration in any shape or form? Was the liberal media able to preclude the invasion of Iraq or Bush's re-election? No, but the conservative media has been a little more efficacious (i.e. immigration, Harriet Myers).

There are, of course, conservative intellectuals that choose not to blame the messenger. Incidentally, this is one of many distinguishing features that set George F. Will and David Brooks apart from Michael Reagan and Sean Hannity. This immeasurably small portion of the conservative mansion is acutely aware that we do not live in Russia and that everyone, ranging in ideology from the far left to the far right, is free to exercise astonishingly poor judgment when choosing their sources of info. The misinformed dolts on the left are free to imbibe and parrot Rosie O'Donnel's inane blather just as their counterparts on the right are free to trust Mr. Hannity. Many of you make it sound as if you are forced to read the NYTimes and watch CNN everyday when, in truth, you rely exclusively upon Rush Limbaugh's partisan interpretation.

If it's objectivity you seek, I have some discouraging news: Everyone is biased. "Fair and Balanced" is a trite and meaningless phrase that is, what Charles Dickens might consider to be, a "pretense of equity" (Bleak House). The only thing you can do to get both sides of the story is diversify your news sources by venturing outside of your comfort zone- an intellectual calisthenics, if you will. If you are a liberal, read George Will. If you are a conservative, read Frank Rich, or just read for God's sake. The problem today, and the left is equally guilty of this, is that many of us don't actively seek out opposing arguments or points of view. That most conservatives watch only FOXnews and most liberals read only the NYTimes, is truly lamentable. If we're to deal with the challenges we face as a nation, we cannot remain so firmly entrenched in our respective partisan ideologies.

True, there is a liberal media, and a big one at that. But are we supposed to blame liberals for getting jobs in the media and, come to think of it, in academia? Perhaps you should instead blame your fellow conservatives for pursuing career paths apart from the former and the latter. And while you're at it, go ahead and blame them (and yourself) for their monolithic support of Bush in 2004. His presidency will inexorably result in liberal control of more than just Congress. Undoubtedly, many of you have, by now, considered the looming spectre of a Hillary presidency; to say nothing of the "pinkos" she's likely to nominate to the Supreme Court. Then you'll really have something to cry about.

JCCrump 7-10-07

an open letter to my collaborator

i have it. finally.

searching for my next project has been like finding inspiration in a can of split pea soup. but in a moment, it came to me:

i want to explore secrets.

i've been sitting here meditating on things...topics...thoughts. points to discover...points to ponder. things that interest me...things that make my blood boil. things that turn me on. things that thrill me...and things that wrap me up and under like buttermilk crusts.

i find myself checking postsecret.blogspot.com a thousand times over. just for distraction...and it hits me. i am fascinated by people's secrets. not even the sort that people divulge anonymously on some public forum, but with a voyeuristic fascination nonetheless. i want to know the tiny secrets people carry with them everyday. the insignificant and momentous motivations... drawn like a chord from that tiny locked door in our hearts and minds. the secret reason i can't stand the name 'amanda.' or why he has a scrawny blonde fetish. the secret reason he is driven to make his fortune. the reason she looks at pork and thinks of her first boyfriend. or why he cries when he sees his mother's slippers in the closet. the reason my kitchen floor is the saddest place on earth to me.

i want to create a piece about secrets. an exploration, if you will. an expedition. perhaps vignettes. perhaps extracted scenes riffing on the theme...presented together through some loose connections...ties that bind. ties that break. ties that...untie. or unite.

am i sometimes too busy concerning myself with my own secrets to listen to the secrets around me? yes. absolutely. when i stop...when i remain silent, i can usually hear them. i hear them clearly. but i've been creating so much white noise lately. static. internal chaos spit out onto the tabletop and thrust into the room like a walrus in an aviary. my distractions reflected back in on myself. i'm ready for some silence...and then, the hum. the hum accompanying the stifled silence in the air...the suspended sentiments. of others. of myself.

let's do this. i think you know what i want. i think you have the means to show...and feel...what i think...and need. let the hunt begin. who knows what we may find.

sublime

would you like to hear sublime?

listen to chopin's Piano Concerto No. 1 In E Minor, Op. 11: II - Romance: Larghetto.

i've heard it time and time before... but currently, i'm listening to a recording of emanuel ax. absolutely stunning.

the recording is part of a compilation... a rather pedestrian collection entitled 'chopin for relaxation.' i think i may have bought it for my mother once upon a time... and then, subsequently stole it back as soon as i realized some of the pieces were performed exceptionally well.

however, i take issue with this recording of one of my favorite chopin pieces: Etude In A-Flat 'Aeolian Harp,' Op. 25 No. 1.

i used to play the 'aeolian harp.' it was one of the last pieces i learned before theatre distracted my attention from my piano studies. i do not know who is playing this particular version, but it is not how i hear the music in my head. too fast. too casual. too steady.

the first time i heard that piece was in the final credits of 'the turning point,' a movie with shirley maclain and anne bancroft centered around ballet (the other love of my life). in the final moments, leslie brown dances this beautiful solo in front of the footlights to the etude... so graceful and lovely. an orchestral arrangement was added for the movie soundtrack... and it is so very effective. rubato... overwrought... emotional... satisfying.

i fell in love with that piece the moment i heard it. i was a young girl at the time...perhaps 11 or 12. as this predated IMDB, there was no way for me to know the name of the piece without tracking down the soundtrack... which is even now only available on LP. once i found it, tucked away in a pile of records at the dance studio, i begged my piano teacher to play it and fortunately, she complied.

this piece is called an 'etude' for a reason, though i know its difficulty pales in comparison to some of the other etudes. nevertheless, i was still a child and never before had my hands hurt so much while playing. i was unprepared for the cramping and the pain...but it was so sublime. so wonderful. i have no words to adequately express how i felt as i poured every ounce of my being into those 6 pages of rapid arpeggiated figures. i can't begin to explain..........

i was not born with a desire to play. to the contrary, i was forced to take lessons by my mother. the hour of practice each evening was as important as the daily chores... if not more. it took years of being chained to the piano bench before a genuine appreciation took root in my heart. and then, with an introduction to chopin and debussy (romantic and impressionist), i discovered the dormant desire in my hands. i now thank my mother for offering me this gift.

i now know that i am a complete musical whore. i remember that rhythm was always my weakness. the intended played second fiddle to my idea of how it should be played. i saw no reason to learn the rhythm if i had heard it before... i needed only to see the notes, to know where to place my fingers...the rhythm was dictated by the sweep of my wrists, the surge in my breasts. disrespectful to the composer? perhaps. blasphemy? i know. surely i would be denounced by my teutonic peers... deemed tacky and overemotional. indeed. but what came from my fingertips was the purest expression of who i was at the time. innocent, tender, and sentimental. in retrospect, i sometimes long to play as i once did. utterly lacking self-consciousness. it almost makes me cry to think about it. my love of the piano was never about dexterity...only expression. perhaps an interesting parallel (or contrast) to my life.

as i write this, i realize that this must be what self-taught musicians and composers experience... those unable to read music. when the rigid notes and values are written in an unintelligble language, how can one be accused of disrespect? it then becomes 'interpretation.' how fortunate they are to escape the burden of this responsibility, unfettered by rules, staves, and note values. how liberating.

i have never envied other pianists. what i experienced was so personal...singularly satisfying and precious... and thus, invincible. it didn't matter what anyone else thought of my playing. good or bad, it didn't matter. in all my life, my piano was the one thing that was mine... for no one's benefit but my own. i don't mind playing for others, but i play best when alone. perhaps it is my secret.

i ask only that other pianists show reverence for my music... and it is indeed my music now. and will always be as it was ingrained in my heart and memory.

responsibility

i am angry.

i am angry because i have a neighbor who is a complete jackass.

as i sat on my couch with my boys this morning, i thought to myself that i'd like to write about my dogs...how they bring me such happiness. how fidel's little velvet face makes me melt...and their games with the ball or their toy squirrel never fail to put a smile on my face. but then, i thought, 'no one really wants to read about my gushing over my dogs. we all love our animals. i don't need to brag.'

i take pretty good care of my dogs...sometimes to the point of indulgence. they are fairly obedient, with a few exceptions...most evenings when i open the gate to the yard, they do a quick romp to the end of the block and back before i can corral them inside. on the other hand, i can take them to memorial park and remove the leashes with no fear of their running away. still, i keep an eagle eye on them most of the time, and the few times they have escaped from the yard have nearly given me a heart attack.

sidenote: i have a severe weakness for animals. i can proudly say i have never hit an animal of any kind with my car...though i've nearly destroyed cars in an effort to avoid doing so. but in short, i'm a sucker. i get this from my father. as a child, my dad worked in an area surrounded by open fields, and every week, he would bring home a new stray he had caught...probably some dog the family no longer wanted, cast aside on the side of the road. (i will never understand how people have the heart to do this.) having 2 dogs and 3 cats already, we couldn't keep these animals... so dad would bring them not to the pound, but animal rescue centers where, with a contribution, you could prevent the animal from being euthanized before finding a home. so, one doesn't grow up in this environment without it rubbing off. whenever i see a dog running loose anywhere, i stop my car and try to make sure it's not lost and hurt, etc. (poor cynthia has been in the car with me at least 4 or 5 times in the last couple months when i've embarked on dog rescues...most of the time, in high heels. she drew the line the other day when i tried to shoo the raccoon out of the middle of the road.)

all that being said, my neighborhood is overrun with dog lovers. people are ridiculous about their dogs in southhampton. at any point, you can catch 4 or 5 people walking their dogs down north and south boulevards. i love this, though there are slight annoyances. (the dog park down the street is a tightly run ship...you are almost made to feel as though your dogs should pass some kind of inspection before they are accepted within the gates.) regardless, my dogs are very popular in my area, as they are left visible behind an iron gate on a heavy-traffic corner. they like some of the people who pass by the yard and dislike others. (i can't quite figure out the pattern, but i'm confident they are good judges of character.)

all that being said, i have a neighbor who has a dog that closely resembles mine. his is a miniature pinscher and mine are manchester terriers. it is not unusual for me to see this dog running in the middle of the street at night. alone. sometimes, driving home from an evening out, i can't clearly see the dog, and i momentarily panic that my dogs have escaped. i didn't know where this dog lived...if it was a stray...if it had a collar...why it was in the middle of the road. i have stopped many times, worried about this dog, trying to get him to come to me so that i could safely escort him home. aside from that, people have come knocking on my door several times now...asking if my dogs have gotten out of the yard, having just seen this little min pin. i've seen this dog scurrying around in the rain...at night. mind you, it's a small, BLACK dog. if any animal is aching to get run over, it is this one. so, one morning, i saw it running around, and i tried to follow it. (the comical part is that i followed this dog 2 blocks in my nightgown and robe.) finally, i saw it hop up the steps in front of this house around the corner. the man of the house opened the door (that was closed) and calmly let the dog inside, as if nothing was out of order. i was shocked.
'is that your dog?' i ask.
'yeah. i just let her run around the block. she always comes back,' he says.
'you're serious?' i ask.
'sure,' he says.

i am struck dumb. i am so angry, i don't even know what to say. so, i walk off.

today, i get another knock on the door. another random stranger.

'have your dogs gotten out? there is a little black down down the street, and he is limping,' the man says.

my dogs safely on the couch and knowing exactly which dog to which he was referring, i grab my keys and brush past the man, asking him to follow me.

as i walk the two blocks and around the corner, i explain the situation to him. i am livid. i am tired of this asshole letting his dog run around the neighborhood, leaving the rest of us to worry about hitting it. i am ready to give him a serious piece of my mind. and my partner in outrage(mark, who turns out to be another neighbor down the street) is equally ready to punch this guy's face.

so we knock on the guy's door, and he answers... the dog is somehow at his side, having run home immediately. mark explains that the dogs was limping, and the man says that the dog always favors one leg. (perhaps an injury from running haphazardly around the damn neighborhood?) but this time, his explanation is that his dog is an escape artist. he proceeds to explain that they just can't seem to keep the dog inside. he says that other neighbors have talked to him about this. (yeah...no shit.) and again, i find myself so mad that i can barely speak to this idiot. after hearing his pathetic excuse, mark and i walk back to my place, shaking our heads.

the moral of the story: the NEXT time i see this little dog running around (and i walk up to his house to see the door closed), i am catching that dog and instead of bringing him home, i am going to give it to someone who will take better care of it. and to the jerk who lives at 1622 milford, take responsibility for your animals.

me talk pretty online

i am not fond of webspeak.

i appreciate that internet slang saves time...but i have a beef. we use words like 'awesome' and 'fabulous' all the time in our everyday speech, and i am just as guilty of this as the next person. but how many things are truly awe-inspiring? i choose not to get up in arms about this, because these words and phrases are firmly entrenched in our language along with any number of colloquialisms.

yet, the thing that really bugs me: LOL. i can't stand LOL. you might ask why. because! because when i write LOL, i had better be laughing out loud. like...for real. i had better get a hearty guffaw out of whatever it follows. because otherwise, it is a useless phrase. and believe me, writing something stupid and then, writing LOL after it does NOT make it more funny. to the contrary, it makes it LESS funny...or maybe just distracts me...because suddenly, it reminds me of a 13 year-old girl in a chat room. (not that 13 year-old girls should ever be in chat rooms.)

example of unsolicited myspace message from random stranger: 'miss jenni, you seem like a trouble-maker. LOL.'

okay, so i'm not laughing...are YOU laughing? i mean, is that funny? i know they are trying to be cute and flirty...but all they've made me do is think of goofy, socially-inept guys glued to their keyboards AND 'hello kitty.' AND it prompts me to change my settings to private.

men should NEVER use this phrase. repeat. men should NEVER use this phrase.

smileys, on the other hand, are completely acceptable. :)

NYer than you

i vowed that i would not renew my new yorker subscription when my year was finished. why?

1. the articles are too long...7-10 pages a piece at times.
2. it comes every week, leaving me no time to finish one issue before the next arrived in the mail.
3. i'm convinced that the editors don't read through all the cartoon caption entries, as i've submitted countless captions far more clever than those that win.
4. i'm starting to feel both falsely validated (being one of the pretentious, self-important elitists who subscribe) to intensely inferior and inadequate because i can't manage to finish a single issue before either losing interest or getting frustrated by the esoteric ego-stroking evident in the articles (how's that assonance for ya?).

so, the last 4 or 5 issues have arrived with a dustcover announcing the impending doom of my subscription...'last issue before service interruption'...'don't miss your opportunity to stay up to date with the new yorker'...'no more cartoons?' and i've turned my nose up at each issue. 'i can take you or leave you,' i say casually. i toss it aside...to read later...IF i get around to it.

and so, i finally pick up the last few magazines. and there's this great article about the progress in criminal lie-detection utilizing fMRI technology...the area of expertise of the very friend who turned me on to the NYer in the first place. and then, this great article about the music industry's conundrum with the advent of easy downloads...and how it has actually benefitted the classical music portion of the business. (seriously, what layperson actually downloads schoenberg?) and there was also that great article about the new biography on charles schulz. highlights from the book, his cartoon, and his life outlined in the 10-page article, along with personal anecdotes (such as revealing the squawking, nonsensical speech of the adults in 'peanuts' to be reminiscent of schulz's first wife). not to mention an absolutely fabulous short story ('mr. bones') by paul theroux (of 'mosquito coast' fame), as well as a depressing, but fascinating article about babies with colic and the potential long-term effects it has on both child and parents....that i am both tempted and hesitant to share with the million pregnant friends i have currently. but if that wasn't enough, let me not forget the article on elizabeth lecompte...my hero. the OTHER person i want to be when i grow up...julie taymor being the first. (the founder of the wooster group in NYC, famous for experiemental theatre productions juxtaposing classical rep, pop references, and contemporary aesthetics in a dangerous multimedia blitz.) the feature outlining her childhood, her break-throughs, her relationships, and her recent production of 'hamlet'...all along with a great photo. her hopes, dreams, and fears in a 10-page spread.

and i'm annoyed. i'm annoyed because it seems as though the big guns were brought out in my honor. why, just when i'm content to let my subscription lapse into obscurity, i read the five or six best articles all year?! so, is this the MO? is this the grand plan? skate by with filler until my renewal time?

well, damn. you've won, NYer...you've won. my check is in the mail.