Death was a proto-punk band from the 1970’s made up of three brothers from Detroit. I heard about the new release of Death’s only album on NPR and ordered it on a whim. I put the CD into my computer about half an hour ago. Wow. Buy this CD and you’ll hear what I’d my band to eventually sound like. Buy it!
I live in Brooklyn and I play in a band. That’s not really unique. It’s not even unique in my building. In Brooklyn, 43% of the population has a band or makes beats or sings piano jazz or plays mariachi music on the train. Ok, I made that number up, but the point stands. There are a whole lot of bands in Brooklyn.
Let’s imagine that we are able to get every musician in Brooklyn to meet in a single large room. Then, let’s ask all of the not-so serious, I just play for a laugh folks to step outside. At this point you will have a room full of thousands of people who spend their lives practicing, buying gear, booking gigs, making flyers and doing everything else they can think of to get their music heard. Most of these people do so with the full knowledge that more than likely their music “career” will never earn them a dime of profit and will never see them performing in front of anything but small groups of other folks with an unhealthy interest in music. These people will have had to deal with petty tyrant promoters, miserly bar owners, sleazy hustlers with get rich quick schemes and lots of self declared experts who have never created anything bursting with eagerness to bad mouth the work that they have struggled and strained to produce. All of this just for the dream of possibly having their music heard and appreciated.
Now, let’s imagine that we have access to a new wonder drug that will allow singers to increase the resonance of their voice, guitarists to increase the strength and speed of their fingers and drummers to increase their stamina. Since this is hypothetical, we’ll also imagine that it allows lyricists to come up with better couplets and producers to come up with better hooks. The drug has some potentially dangerous side effects, but is prescribed by doctors to genuinely sick people all the time. Let’s divide our hypothetical room in two with a thick white line. Everyone who is interested in taking this new wonder drug will stand on the left side of the room and everyone who wants to abstain will stay on the right side. Does anyone really think it would be a challenge to get a seat on the right side of the room? There will be some purists, but they’ll be plenty of people clamoring for the drug regardless of the cost or side effects.
Now replace musicians in that example with artists or dancers or actors or stock brokers. Win at any cost has been the mantra of our society for years. Maybe it always was. We love the image of the renegade lawman who is willing to take matters into their own hands. We want our interns to work marathon shifts at hospitals, our college students to study all night and our computer programmers chained to their desks sucking down Mountain Dew. We know that sometimes these efforts require pharmaceutical assistance and we either willingly turn a blind eye or secretly admire the willingness to do what it takes to get things done.
This morning, I read (via Peter Gammon’s column on ESPN.com) a post on the Only Baseball Matters blog about the history of performance enhancing drugs in sports and it really got me thinking. Go ahead, read that now.
Back?
As I alluded to regarding the furor over Michael Phelps being pictured with a bong, I feel that our culture is like a wrestler. We love to pick people up just so that we can get maximum leverage when we smash them back down to earth again. Let’s take a look at the life of the athlete in our society.
We choose from the most apparently gifted at a young age, drive them to exchange childlike play for regimented practice, ask them to shoehorn all of their time and energy into the relentless pursuit of excellence in ever narrower fields of achievement and then we carry them on our shoulders in celebration of their absolute commitment to winning. We pay for special trainers, special equipment, video lessons, cutting edge athletic gear and anything else that we can find to give them any edge, no matter how slight.
We laud only those who have proven that for them life is solely about victory regardless of what sacrifices are required. We make exceptions and excuses for them whenever anything non-athletic becomes too much of an impediment in the way of their progress. We excuse away their failings away from the field as long as they keep putting up the correct numbers while they are on it. We hold those who achieve apart and remind them at every opportunity that they are something special and the thing that makes them special is being just a little bit better than everyone else at one single activity.
We shower the tiniest sliver of those at the very pinnacle of the heap with riches that would make most CEOs jealous and then lambast anyone who appears to be less focused on wins and losses than we are as fans in the stands. We turn young men with a physical gift and a compatible mindset into walking engines of business responsible for supporting extended families or even whole villages and then we demand that they perform consistently at the highest levels of human potential all the while appearing as if they are having the time of their lives playing children’s games. If the day comes when they are unable to meet the ever increasing expectations we place on them, we throw them on the dust heap of history and rush to embrace the new blood pressing forward to take their places.
We ask them to sacrifice their childhoods, time with their families and just plain relaxation. We offer them a dream of success and fame with full knowledge that only the smallest percentage of them who have the correct mix of genetic gifts, mental make-up and old fashioned luck will ever succeed. We push them towards that chimera even though we know the dangers. We drive them to rush back to the field of play after injuries and we celebrate those who are willing to play through pain even if that takes a shot from the team trainer or some new surgery. We do this knowing full well that these things will lead to shorter life spans for many of them, even the ones who will never touch the brass ring.
In short, we throw young people who are physically and mentally strong into a dark closet, arm them with knives and promise them that the few who survive will be showered with huge sums of money and universal adulation.
…and then we’re surprised that maybe just maybe those athletes might take performance enhancing drugs?
I hear what you’re saying, what about the kids? The kids are going to be influenced by these role models and their choices regarding drugs! Maybe that’s true. However, aren’t those same kids going to be influenced by the drugs ads that they are constantly confronted with on TV and in magazines? How about all of the alcohol ads that are shown every five minutes during almost any sporting event? What about the anxiety pills they see mom taking after a stressful day, or the double shot vanilla soy latte they see Dad slugging down every morning?
I don’t have an easy answer for any this. I’d like to live in a world where all competitors are playing on a clean slate and pure talent and skill decides the victors. I agree with the one year ban placed on Antonio Margarito after he was caught with doctored wraps on his hands. At the same time, I think it’s time that some folks came off their high horses and took a look at their own lives.
This quote from another post at Only Baseball Matters really stands out for me:
I have some context, that perhaps a writer like Lupica doesn’t. I’ve worked in construction for most of the last 25 years, and I know what it’s like to work through pain…I’ve worked
with my body since I was 14 years old. In that time, I’ve taken every pill, literally, everything I could get my hands on, to make sure I could go to work every day. Until you do, maybe you can’t understand. But I know that my readers who come from a similar background understand.
What about you? Would you consider taking a drug if you new it would get you a promotion at your job and maybe get your kids into a better school?
Has their been cheating in baseball? Probably for as long as people have played versions of the game. It’s not the only sport and more than likely not the worst. Sports are not the only field of endeavor where we as a society have embraced drugs as a tool. It’s time to end the hypocrisy and discuss this with a little less self-righteous absolutism.
About a year ago I posted a great quote from Mark Cuban: The one thing we control is effort. I’ve tried to keep that as my mantra on occasions when I haven’t gotten the breaks or when other people have let me down. The only thing we control is our own effort.
Now there’s no way I’ll forget it!
Ah, so now they are after the golden boy Michael Phelps. He’s 23. Are we so ready to throw our supposed heroes on the trash heap? Yes we are. The writers who shape opinion, more than likely all of them having smoked marijuana, sit back in judgment and wag their fingers at the law breaker. I slept on this post because Lucas doesn’t dig the tune, but it seems appropriate right now.
A law which cannot be equally applied to all becomes nothing more than a tool for tyrannical persecution. It allows those in authority to selectively choose who will be punished and for how long. Prohibition doesn’t work.
Children bear the scars
deep in their hearts,
it’s the way of war
families ripped apart.
Another young boy
raised by (a) single mom,
families destroyed
worse than those by bombs.
Victims of Drug Wars
The saddest part of all
is that it makes no sense,
There’s no magic in walls
there’s leaks in every fence.
There’s no sense in a law
that cannot be enforced,
overindulgence is a flaw
(but) morals cannot be forced.
Victims of Drug Wars
Fight till there are no more
Let’s struggle till there are no more
The most dangerous drug of all
is not sold in junkie dens,
it’s ethyl alcohol
it’s both our enemy and our friend.
It brings life to celebrations
then kills us on the road,
it causes tribulations
it (also) lightens up our load.
Victims of Drug Wars
Some tools also bring danger
most good comes with some bad,
today it’s only strangers,
just someone else’s dad.
It’s a war where some are hunted
for their choice in how they live,
freedom is organic
it’s not up to them to give.
Victims of Drug Wars
Where? Here:
Having talented friends is the type of good fortune that can’t be bought or earned. All you can really do is to count your blessings and try to enjoy the wonderful opportunities that inevitably come your way. Lisa Uhlig is one of my closest friends and she also happens to be a great artist. I’ve had the wonderful pleasure of watching her skills and her confidence in her talent grow dramatically over the last few years right in front of me.
Lisa’s been working very hard on a piece for a show at an art space in Bushwick called Division of Human Works. The show was titled “Gentle Now: An Examination of Safety and Balance” and it concerned the relationship between safety and freedom. However, Lisa has been very coy about the actual subject of her piece for the show. I’m unbelievably flattered, honored and humbled that she chose to make your host here in pickabarland the subject of her work. Maybe my jiggly belly will make it into an art history book some day!
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The painting is based on a photo that was taken at Long Beach over the summer on a Monday afternoon. The beach wasn’t very crowded and the five of us (Lisa, Pete, Dave and Amanda) had an amazingly relaxing and invigorating time. The wind was gusting strongly and I raised my arms to let my towel flap in the wind. For a small slice of time it really felt like the wind had blown away all of my cares and I was about to float into the sky. For that one moment concerns about social acceptance, body issues, worries about financial success and all of the other noise that hums along in the background of my thoughts was silenced.
I’m a blogger, I sing in a punk band and I’m a social networking junkie. I’m very much in touch with my own narcissistic tendencies. This is something more than petty narcissism though; I’m overflowing with genuine pride at being associated with something that I consider a truly beautiful work of art. A wonderful moment in my life, a moment that I’d already begun to forget, is now a tangible object.
All of my other talented friends are now on notice!
There’s a Facebook meme going around where people list 25 things about myself. Far be it for me to pass up an opportunity for narcissism.
1. I hate talking on the telephone. Seriously. Every time it rings I curse under my breath. I have a hard time hearing over the phone, the sound quality is irritating and the low quality makes everyone’s voice sound just harsh and nasally enough to irritate me. Most of all you can’t read body language. If you need to get a message to me, send a text.
2. I’m probably going to be deaf before long. You know that cool space to stand near the stage at shows that I always enjoyed? Well, I finally figured out that it was open because the speakers were blasting enough decibels to keep anyone smart out of range. This probably explains at least part of #1.
3. pickabar.com was going to be my “zagat’s guide for partying college kids” type website, but the company fizzled before we got it off the ground. I’d already registered the domain, so I kept the name.
Q: What do you want to do tonight?
A: I don’t know, pick a bar.
4. I’m a collector. It started with GI Joes and Transformers, segued into comic books and science fiction magazines and then directly into records.
5. I own a great deal of music, but I’m usually into no more than ten songs. I listen to those songs on repeat, take every opportunity to get other people to listen to them and even recite parts of the lyrics as a part of my normal life. Eventually, I fall in love with a new song and the cycle starts all over again.
BTW, have you heard The Speedies “Something on My Mind”? Check that out.
6. I’m completely terrified of any form of confrontation. If someone hurts my feelings I just wipe them from my memory like that “Eternal Sunshine…” movie. This tends to hurt me more than anyone else, because it turns out that sometimes some people’s mind reading machine go on the blink and they may not even know that they’ve done something to offended you. I’m still trying to get this one through my thick skull.
7. My birthday is 07/07/77. My first name is gerrard and the first letter in gerrard is G, the seventh letter. Gerrard has seven letters, as does Anthony, as does Lindsay.
8. My real memory only extends about five years, maybe three if I’m really honest with myself. Anything further back in the timeline is a hazy mix of partial recollection, stories I’ve heard from friends and my favorite telanovelas.
9. I usually quit any activity where I’m not a natural within the first few days of my involvement. It feels really good to be making music that I’m personally proud of when I know how much time and dedication it took before I was even able to just hold onto the guitar pick.
10. Until about four years ago, I lived with the assumption that anyone who was in good shape just had good genes. I’m not trying to suggest that I’m an idiot, I was aware that people went to the gym and worked out, but I didn’t REALLY know it. First, my friend Blossom uh…blossomed into an athlete. Then, my friend Adam said “I run because I like to look good” and that somehow made it through the firewall. I’m committed to making exercise a key part of the rest of my life.
11. Everyone I know has a sick record collection, DJs, plays in a band an has an encyclopedic knowledge of anything that vaguely has a beat. Can you people please take a break for a while and let me catch up?
12. I’m trying to live by a very simple philosophy, focus on the people who focus on you. I’ve wasted too much of my life thinking about people who weren’t big fans of mine instead of thinking about the people who actually like me. It’s probably tasteless to quote your own song, but why start worrying about good taste now?
Friendship is spending time,
it’s both a means and an end,
so if you’ve got no time,
then we’re no longer friends.
13. I’m obsessed with watching grown men play a children’s ball game so that a major corporation can sell their goods and services at inflated prices. I say “we” about the Mets even though I own no part of the company and I have never been a member of the team. My grandmother was a Mets fan and the rest of my family members are Mets fans. My favorite childhood picture was of my younger self wearing a new Mets cap and jacket. I live on Metropolitan Avenue!
14. I’m a vegetarian, but I’m not really an animal rights advocate as much as I am squeamish. I try not to even kill bugs. On the other hand, I wear leather and I can’t say hunting and fishing don’t look fun.
15. I’m really way too verbose. Even in person. Sometimes when I get really excited about things I start spitting out words like an automatic weapon and gesticulating wildly. I usually don’t fill out these “survey” things because I tend to write novels. Let’s be honest. No one’s still reading at this point are they? Anyone still reading is either a speed reader or they have an incredibly boring job.
16. I fired my first gun a few months ago in the country part of Virginia. Sarah’s cousin let me use his .22 Luger and it made me feel like a stone cold killing machine. I really want to get into guns this year.
17. I much prefer playing with little kids and their toys to hanging out with adults. Kids are just open minded and unafraid to be excited in a way that adults can only vaguely imitate with booze and drugs. I smile and nod when people say, “oh, he’s so good with kids!”, but really the kids are saving me from you scary old people.
18. I like to dance. All the time. I don’t care if I have to do it by myself. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t dance.
19. I’m a computer programmer. All of this cool stuff we have to waste time with, communicate with and download porn with started from the hard work of someone like me. I haven’t actually done any programming in a few months and it’s the longest it’s been for me since I was 12 or 13.
20. I’m an atheist, but I’ve read the bible a bunch of times. I’ve also read the baghavad ghita, buddhist scriptures, parts of the edda’s and I’ll probably get to the Koran at some point.
21. I swing wildly between being painfully shy and being a shameless extrovert.
22. I lost a spelling bee in elementary school because a kid I’d already beaten in the semi-finals was given a second chance. I misspelled the word “acoustically” and that (two words ago) may be the first time I’ve ever spelled the word correctly. For some reason I always want to add an extra “C” in the middle. I’m still very angry about losing that spelling bee, even though the kid who won was an ok guy.
23. My grandmother is the greatest person I ever had the privilege of meeting and I consider myself very lucky to have had her as the person who raised me.
24. I have more than a thousand nicknames for Sarah Kearns Hoadley and I make up more throughout the day. Hoaderista?
25. I’m really not interested in working for other people my whole life. I want to have my own business, I’m just not sure what that should be.
That’s right, I just re-posted a Facebook survey on my blog. Cat photos coming soon.