Of Pandemics, Performing and Toilet Paper

Nobody told me there'd be days like these
Strange days indeed
most peculiar, Mama
-        John Lennon, from “Nobody Told Me.”

The lyrics of this Lennon tune keep running through my head.  It seems almost quaint that a mere three weeks ago I was writing about the upcoming baseball season and how my Brewers were in jeopardy of laying a big old egg.  I would take the egg at this point, as even bad baseball is preferable to no baseball, and with the MLB pulling the plug on the start of the season – wisely so – humanity is left to squander away its evening hours without the benefit of America’s Pastime. 

So what to do?  Be productive, I guess, or at least spend time with things that make you feel good.  So far I’ve managed to stay sufficiently busy during the social distancing phase of the Global Pandemic, but I recognize many factors are in my favor.  There are many people who are suffering either from illness, anxiety, loneliness, or sundry other ailments that afflict mankind without the added misery of a pandemic.  It’s important to keep that in mind and spend a moment each day giving thanks.  I am thankful for the following:

1)    I live in a safe neighborhood that allows me to go outside regularly.
2)    I have enough money to buy food, pay for utilities, keep up to date on my mortgage, etc.
3)    Neither I nor anyone in my family is sick.
4)    I live with two other people and have an additional two visitors, so I have plenty of social interaction.
5)    My neighbors are out and about and I’m able to enjoy conversations with people outside my family.
6)    My wife still has her job.
7)    My religious institution is doing a wonderful job of having a virtual gathering each day to learn or converse.

Add to these blessings that we all live in the age when connectivity allows for so many time-sucking pursuits – some of them even moderately noble – that many of us have no excuse not to use our time wisely. A pandemic thirty years ago would have been much more challenging with fewer opportunity to kill time, though I’ve somehow managed to accomplish a number of goals in an old-fashioned manner.  I’ve almost completed gutting my basement, I built a wooden record rack with one or two more planned, I finished recording demos for my next album, and I performed for my neighborhood block with an impromptu duo, to wit, The Highland Avenue Coronavirus Band.

Unfortunately, haters love to hate, and a very sanctimonious and unobservant woman took it upon herself to record a video (while driving her car!) and share it on our neighborhood Facebook page in an attempt to publicly shame us for failing to pay heed to the seriousness of society’s current predicament. I think it’s important to note that social distancing does NOT mean no socializing.  It means socializing at a distance.  When my neighbor Dean and I performed for an hour yesterday in front of maybe three dozen people, families sat in clusters because they’re…um…families, but then sat at least six feet apart from each other, as per Governor Pritzker’s orders for our fine state of Illinois.  The poster of the condemning video apparently doesn’t understand this. Fortunately she received a number of negative comments online and promptly removed the video. Chalk one up for humanity.  And good neighbors.  And music.

Even the toilet paper shortage – a shortage of our own making, mind you – hasn’t gotten me down.  I arrived at a Target store last week right at the opening bell but still too late to grab a package of Charmin, and as I walked out empty-handed, a woman hoisting two large toilet paper packages – one in each hand – offered to share some of her lot with me.  Really, it was the least she could do, as she shouldn’t have grabbed two packages to begin with, but so often humanity fails to do the least it can do, and in this instance she met my low expectations. I told her no thank you and felt a warm fuzzy feeling that maybe, just maybe, we’re all in this crazy pandemic together. 

All this is to say that I hope you’re all doing okay.  If you’re able to volunteer at a food pantry or call on an elderly neighbor, please do so (if you’re healthy).  Keep in touch with friends and neighbors – at a distance – and take some time to do a crossword puzzle, read a book, play with your kids or cook a nice meal.  Hang in there, and pray that come June or July we can once again spend our evenings enjoying nine innings of baseball.

Speaking of which, I may need to amend my predictions for this year’s Milwaukee Brewers.  I’m on it.  Now if only the Milwaukee Bucks would do right and return the money I spent for three tickets to this Friday’s game!

The 2020 Brewers

It’s hard for Brewers fans not to be a wee bit excited for baseball this year beyond the usual reasons (springtime, listening to Bob Uecker, watching a boatload of TV), not necessarily because the Crew is expected to win the NL Central this year – or even compete for it – but because there are so many new faces and moving parts, not to mention that we just learned about all-star Christian Yelich’s extension.  I look forward to learning more about the latest Brewers, but I must admit that I’m having trouble keeping track of all the new guys.  You’ve got Josh Lindblom, Logan Morrison, Eric Lauer, Luis Urias, Justin Smoak, Mark Mathias, Brett Anderson, Avisail Garcia, Omar Narvaez, and don’t even get me started on the new relievers.  It’s all a bit overwhelming, but it’s also exciting to imagine how it’s all going to play out.

Less exciting is to think realistically about how the Crew is going to perform this year, not only because of the talent on the field, but because of a new rule change that eliminates a late-season strategy the benefited them in a huge way over the past two seasons.  The Brewers are coming off two playoff appearances in a row for the first time in franchise history (unless you count 1981’s strike-shortened first round playoff, which I don’t), but look behind the numbers and the off-season pickups – particularly in the pitching department – and there’s cause for concern going into the 2020 season.

To put it bluntly, September call-ups saved the Brewers during the last two years, as beleaguered pens were allowed to take a breather during the home stretch.  On August 27 two years ago the Crew found themselves 13 games over .500 but 6 games back in the NL Central and clinging onto the second wild card spot.  They then went 23-7 the rest of the way, with a 20-7 September (including one game in October), winning the division in a one-game playoff with the Cubs.  Pretty remarkable, but then they did it again in 2019!  Another 20-7 September!  At the end of August last year the Brewers were in third place, only three games above .500 and 6.5 games back and 4 games behind the second wild card.  Twenty-seven games later they made the playoffs, losing to the eventual World Series champions.

These were very exciting finishes for Brewer fans, and Craig Counsell’s skill at maneuvering personnel in these successive Septembers probably should have won him at least one NL Manager of the Year, but 2020 will allow no such opportunity.  Major League Baseball has initiated a new rule that limits the active roster to 28 during September and 26 during the rest of the season, up from 25.  This rule change could be huge for a team like the Brewers who doesn’t have a pitching ace and who has to rely on short stints of 4-6 innings throughout the season, taxing the bullpen.  There will be little relief in sight when only two additional pitchers can be added come September.

For the record, I agree with the rule change; it makes no sense for teams to field a very different pitching staff in September than the team that got them through the first five months of the season.  But the new rule is going to affect the Brewers in a big way, akin to how the NFL’s kickoff rule change in 2011 effectively penalized the Bears the most since they had the most talented kick returner in Devin Hester.

So what does this mean?  To me, it means that the Brewers are going to have to have a more consistent pitching staff, better able to manage a 162 game season without the cavalry coming in and saving the day.  But in a flurry of off-season activity largely aimed at plugging in the holes at third, first and catcher created by outgoing Mike Moustakas, Eric Thames and Yasmani Grandal, respectively, the Crew didn’t make the big splash expected in starting pitching.  They instead dealt around the margins, attempting to find value in arms that won’t break the bank and that won’t demand a long-term contract.  This has worked successfully for General Manager David Stearns at times with pickups such as Jhoulys Chacin, Wade Miley, Drew Pomeranz and Gio Gonzalez.  But the Crew’s pitching strategy has also backfired at times, such as last year when the Willy Peralta and Corbin Burnes experiment didn’t go according to plan.  You can’t win them all. 

So, will this year’s experiment work?  Will newcomers Lindblum, Anderson and Lauer joining an effective but still fairly inexperience duo of Brandon Woodruff and Adrian Houser be enough?  And will they be able to eat as many innings as Zach Davies and Chase Anderson, who ranked first and second in innings pitched for the Brewers in 2019?  Will Corey Knebel be effective when he returns from last season’s surgery?  And will Josh Hader and Corbin Burnes be able to limit the number of home runs this season (granted, this was a problem throughout Major League Baseball last year)?

I asked similar pitching questions a year ago, and the feeling going into 2020 feels very much like the feeling going into 2019, except that this year we don’t have the nearly-guaranteed offensive production of Moustakas and Grandal.  Instead, we’re praying that Urias, Navarez, Garcia, Smoak and Eric Sogard take up the slack. And them of course we have the September rule change.

A year ago I predicted 88 wins compared to their eventual 89 wins.  I’m excited for this season – I truly am – but I’m not optimistic.  I think the pitching is finally going to get the better of the Brewers with no September call-ups to save the day.

75 wins.  Fourth place.

Screens, Streams and Creativity

In my last post I posed the question, “Is creativity in jeopardy of diminishing or dying altogether?”  It was inspired by Amy Nicholson’s comments on the Raiders of the Lost Ark episode of Unspooled, a podcast devoted to discussing the AFI’s top 100 American films of all-time.  She remarked, “I feel like something in us is just stuck because we’re not using our imaginations anymore, we’re just hitting rewind.”

While few would claim that there aren’t still amazingly creative things happening in the arts, if recent successful films are any indication Amy’s observation isn’t entirely unwarranted.  One need look no further than Disney’s recent output to conclude that original content isn’t always a major priority of film studios.  According to film critic William Bibbiani of @WilliamBibbiani, “35 of the top 50 films domestically (in 2019) were sequels, remakes, reboots, spinoffs or other films based on pre-existing blockbuster multimedia franchises.” 

That’s a staggering statistic.  Gone are the days when the most celebrated films were also the most-watched (think Forrest Gump, Silence of the Lambs, Rain Man, etc.).  Broadway has also fallen into the reboot trap.  I wrote about this seven years ago, and its sorry state certainly hasn’t improved in the ensuing years (think Mean Girls, Frozen, Moulin Rouge, Shrek, Tootsie, Dirty Dancing, and on and on…)

So why the devotion to reboots?  For film, the obvious game-changer has been streaming, which has dropped the average theatrical run to only four weeks.  Given this, it’s no wonder that studios are devoting fewer funds to riskier ventures.  But just when you think that all is lost, you hear the flip side of the same coin.  Yes, streaming may have shortened theatrical runs which has directly led to studios relying on well-established franchises, but it’s also opened up a world that heretofore was difficult to enter. 

Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio recently appeared on Marc Maron’s podcast, WTF, and they both discussed how as producers they are being given the green light to make films that wouldn’t have gotten financed years ago.  Streaming services are now making smaller films viable options (to hear this particular segment of the interview, go to the one-hour mark, though the whole interview is worth a listen). DiCaprio goes on to say that in the past these films would have to win an Academy Award to get any viewership at all, but now “millions and millions of people watch these documentaries as opposed to having to go through a theatrical system.”

Isn’t this exciting? 

And from my limited experience DiCaprio is correct.  I’ve watched more documentaries in the last ten years than in the previous forty years combined, and more and more of my friends are recommending documentaries, small films, and of course dozens and dozens of TV shows (some of them even worth watching).  Add to this the accessibility of short films that would never have been viewable prior to the Age of Streaming, and we’ve got so much wonderful output right at our fingertips, no one will ever be able to check the box that says, “All caught up.”

So it’s not all doom and gloom.  Creativity is alive and well, but like much of art these days, it may be fragmented.  You may not be hearing about a film or a book or a TV show by viewing the best-seller or highest-grossing lists, but with a little word-of-mouth and targeted searches you can find the original content that appears to be lacking in mainstream theaters.  I would argue that even theatrical runs have shown signs of life recently.  I’ve watched eight out of the nine Best Picture nominees and there’s not a dud among them.  2019 may be one of the best years of film in recently memory.  And it’s very likely that films like Roma and The Irishman, both of which appeared in theaters just long enough to qualify for the Oscars, have done far better with the new business model than they would have with the old one.

Yes, things are changing.  I imagine Walt Disney himself would be disappointed in his company if he were alive today.  But others are taking that creative torch and carrying it boldly in this century. Some things may be lost along the way, but creativity and human originality won’t be among them.

Freedom and Creativity

In Frank Capra’s film Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, the idealistic young senator says to Miss Saunders:

Men should hold (liberty) up in front of them every single day of their lives and say: "I'm free... to think and to speak. My ancestors couldn't - I can... and my children will."

Liberty has taken on an expanded meaning these days as we have access to virtually any piece of knowledge ever conceived of by the human race – good, bad or otherwise.  And it begs the question: can you have too much freedom?  Can having the freedom to do everything keep you from doing anything?

I thought of this while listening a while back to the podcast Unspooled, a fine series in which actor Paul Scheer and film critic Amy Nicholson spend an hour discussing each film of the AFI’s top 100 movies compiled in 2007.  It isn’t a perfect podcast, but I like that the two hosts lack pretension and are often watching movies for the first time, enabling them to see through some of the hype. 

Scheer and Nicholson also make astute observations about society from time to time, and no more so than during their podcast for the film Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Near the end of the episode, Nicholson reveals her concerns about human creativity, and whether its been stunted since this movie’s release, when VHS tapes allowed for cheap home viewing.  She says: “What changed in our generation when we were able to make Raiders the number one VHS tape and watch Raiders non-stop…are we stunting our imagination?  It worries me not because I don’t like this movie, it just worries me on my larger scale of somebody who wants more random creativity in the world.”  She goes on to share a story about Quentin Tarantino coming of age just before the VCR became ubiquitous, when after seeing a movie he’d buy the film score on LP and imagine the scenes while the music played, eventually coming up with his own scenes, reimagining the movie over and over again.  Similarly, Scheer said that after watching Return of the Jedi, he’d go back home and write down everything he could remember in chronological order so he could read it back and get to experience the movie again.  Viewing it at home wasn’t an option. Had Tarantino and Scheer grown up in the home movie era, perhaps they wouldn’t have become filmmakers or actors.

Does having immediate access to so much information at our fingertips hamper creativity?  Do we – in effect – have too much freedom?  Freedom to see almost any movie at any time at any place.  Freedom to look up almost any fact about science or human history with a few keystrokes.  To read any piece of junk written by morons.  To watch gangs of people fornicating.   In the Age of the Internet and constant connectivity, do we have the ability to say no to what’s available to us and proactively pursue an original thought?

In the aforementioned Unspooled episode, Scheer concludes, rightly so, that “we’re always living in a culture that adapts to what we have.”  After all, were it not for recorded music, we’d have to rely on performances or hearing music in our own mental jukeboxes.  Were it not for the written word, we’d have to remember stories our grandparents told us so that we could then tell them to our children and grandchildren.  The written word has given us much, but it would be foolish to say that it hasn’t hampered some of our capacity to tell stories verbally.  Likewise, being able to look up facts on Google at any time has probably hampered some of our ability to remember, and studies have shown that the Internet has most assuredly shortened our attention span.

Nicholson concludes, “I feel like something in us is just stuck because we’re not using our imagination anymore, we’re just hitting rewind.”

Next week I’d like to look at films in particular and how it’s not all doom and gloom. Creativity survives.

Stay tuned…

A Death Poem

Death has been on my mind lately because there’s been a lot of it, some of it personal, some of it the public figure variety, most recently that of Neil Peart of Rush who I’d seen perform live numerous times.  The outer circles insulating my charmed life have been breached by the passing of those around the same age as me or just a few years down the line, so mortality has taken on new resonance.  I’m not depressed about it nor am I fatalistic, but I can’t pretend it’s not there.  It has to be reckoned with.  So, time for some poetry!

WHEN DEATH IS ALL AROUND

When death is all around
not even breath can be assumed.
Hyper-conscious.  Present. Aware.
It’s what you’ve been aiming for all along.
Yet the privilege shared by
witnessing others’ passing
falls flat upon weary ears
like a stone on the sunken earth.
Whether it’s “wrapped in the cradle of His bosom”
or “a dot of light in the sky’s sphere,”
there is no comfort in words of comfort.
Because lately it’s been friends
and friends of friends,
and mothers and lovers and brothers and sons,
wives and husbands
and old acquaintances.
No, not even breath can be assumed,
nor the sunrise,
nor lilac’s bloom,
nor pangs of hunger,
nor sated desires,
nor sacred moments.
For in another’s absence 
beckon those final empty seconds,
when all we hold dear
will be loosed into the ether
of God’s hollow embrace.