2009 May

	2009, MAY

May 31:

Have you ever watched a classical guitarist in concert? Unlike other guitarists, they hold their instrument with the fat part between their legs and the fretboard pointing almost straight up. With the fretting hand flying up and down the neck at great speed, it’s actually kind of obscene.

But I love to watch a master at work, so Jeanine and I went to see the semifinals of the Parkening International Guitar Competition last week. Christopher Parkening, one of the finest classical guitarists alive, is Distinguished Professor of Music (though with his touring schedule, I can’t imagine how he finds time to profess) at Pepperdine University, which hosts the triennial competition on its campus in Malibu.

It was a long drive, but well worth it. The judges on Friday had only to eliminate two of the five semifinalists and choose three players to compete for top honors the next day. It seemed like an easy choice to me: three of the five were superb—you could reasonably rank them in any order—while the other two were clearly not in the same league. But I think there were factors—age discrimination?—other than the contestants’ playing involved. The future of classical guitar was Ian Watt, the only teenager in the group. He was wonderful, and a good bet to eclipse the rest of the world of classical guitar in the next decade, but (to my ear, at least) lacked the presence and maturity of the others at this stage of his career. Maybe the judges were reluctant to pass over the next Segovia (or at least the next Parkening), so they bumped the aging (24) but deserving Rafael Miñarro to put Watt into the finals.

Promise wasn’t enough to take him all the way, though: Watt was awarded the Silver Medal the next day. The Gold went to the Italian Emanuele Buono, who should be named Buonissimo. A flashy red-headed Finn, Juuso Nieminen, took Bronze. Remember those names and don’t pass up an opportunity to see any of them.

May 28

I don’t ordinarily give much thought to walking. I just move my feet in the general direction I want to go and, as long as I remember to alternate, I have no problem. But the other day a friend I hadn’t seen in years ran into me in the market. She said she recognized my from behind by my “distinctive walk.”

I didn’t even know I had a distinctive walk. My wife, who has watched me walk on a daily basis, didn’t know I had a distinctive walk. She says she could spot any member of her first husband’s family by the way their toes point east and west while they’re heading north, but I think she’s just being catty. But although she can recognize me from any angle, it’s not by my gait.

There are some people you can tell by the way they walk; John Cleese, the Minister of Silly Walks, comes to mind. But real people, too. Think of John Wayne (yeah, I know, I said real people)—you always knew it was him, even without the hat. In the movies, that is: I don’t know how he walked in real life, without the boots. Or even if he did walk without the boots in real life. For that matter, I don’t know if the boots even made a difference. After all, he was a boy named Marion and he played tackle for USC, so it’s entirely possible that his distinctive gait was the result of injury.

And there was Charlie Chaplin, of course. No one would dream of trying to imitate Chaplin without mastering the splay-footed gait. I don’t know how much of that was put on, but it was not limited to The Little Tramp: in Monsieur Verdoux, he played a desperate bank clerk turned killer with the same walk.

If you watched Gunsmoke, it was easy to tell Chester was coming before you could see his face. But I’m not talking about a bit of theatrical business or an abnormal gait as a result of injury or disease, but rather the way ordinary people walk.

If you do have a distinctive gait, it can obviously work against you in certain circumstances. Lance Williams, a Welsh burglar who wore a mask and disguised his voice, was captured when his victim recognized his mincing gait on the surveillance tape. John Rigg was another criminal undone by his walk. His bow-legged gait was described as “rather like John Wayne’s,” but since Wayne was already dead, Rigg did two years.

He was convicted on the basis of the testimony of a forensic podiatrist. Who knew there was such a thing as forensic podiatry?

There is. There is considerable academic/police/military interest in using gait as an identification tool. The Pentagon has been funding research at Georgia Tech to detect and characterize gait signatures with radar. Researchers whose grant depends on it suggest that it is highly reliable and, more important, difficult to disguise.

This is arrant, and errant, nonsense. Put pebbles in your shoe or wear pants two sizes too small and I guarantee your gait will change. A woman in heels does not walk the same when she’s wearing combat boots. Go ride a bike for 20 miles and see if you still walk the same. See if you can walk the same. See if you can walk.

Consider my typical day. I get up at 3 in the morning and lurch to the bathroom in a good imitation of The Little Tramp groping for his cane. Later in the morning I go to the gym where, as a dedicated non-runner, I set the treadmill for the fastest speed I can walk. But sometimes I accidentally leave my thumb on the speed button too long, which launches me into a typical festinating Parkinson’s gait: torso thrown ahead with my feet in a prolonged forward fall trying to catch up with the rest of me. When I get off the treadmill, if I have new sneakers I may also have a blister on my heel. I walk to the car without letting that heel touch the ground.

If the treadmills are all taken, I might use the rowing machine instead. After half an hour of that, I develop a swooping Monty Python gait as my swollen knees give way with each step.

I don’t think I have a characteristic walk, but maybe I have several.

It might be interesting to try to identify people by watching them walk. I’m thinking it would be good to start with Angela Lindvall, a model who is known for her distinctive carriage on the runway. I had never heard of her until now, unfortunately. I guess we don’t walk in the same circles.

May 22

We haven’t talked about the L.A. Times in a while, so I guess it’s about time we had another look at the southland’s major daily. The Times is struggling to remain relevant in the electronic age and wants to be the primary source of news for the six or seven million people in its distribution area. They are trying to do it on the cheap, having fired half of the staff. Including, apparently, the headline writers. Who was it who came up with this enlightening banner the other day: “Slain Rapper May Have Had Dispute With Killer”? Ya think? And who wrote this one today: “Body is found in midair collision”?

Today’s front page, the place for the hard news, features an article (with photo) on one of the contestants (a musician—what else?—from Walnut Creek) in the World Beard & Mustache Championships in Brighton, England. The article is continued inside, occupying all of page 8, with two more pictures. Big pictures.

They put off the big news to page 14, where we learn (with two pictures) of the re-arrest of a tagger on parole after new grafitti were found. The evidence is pretty damning: officers searching his home found tagging tools and paint on his clothes.

And I note that, while there are plenty of ads on every page (OK, in all fairness, not on the front page—at least not today), eight of the fourteen pages between 1 and 14 (there’s a 12, 12A, and 12B) are devoted entirely to advertising. Tell me again why are they having a hard time? Which reminds me of a small ad I saw yesterday. It showed a picture of a very ordinary looking watch, a brand I never heard of, with the notice: “For two hours only, this watch will be sold for $79.” It gave the address of the store and nothing more. I think they left off the tag line: after the two hours, it reverts to the normal price of $29.95. I can’t blame the Times for this one, but I had to mention it.

I also note, deep in the business section, that the new CEO and chairman of AIG is soon to be the new former CEO and chairman. He’s been on the job since September—hey, that’s over half a year, for crying out loud—and is the only CEO of the last four to resign voluntarily. He is giving up his $1 annual salary (I wonder if he has to give back forty cents) and will receive no severance package.

The Times does print all the news that fits, to be sure. Headline: “3 people stung by a swarm of bees.” Isn’t it supposed to be “man bites dog”? It would be news if 3 people stung a swarm of bees…or a swarm of people stung 3 bees.

I’ve noticed the obituary page is getting bigger, with longer bios and bigger pictures. I’m hoping that’s a change in the paper, and not a change in me.

May 18

We just had a small earthquake. It reminded me that seismologists have said that 2008 was unusually active, with twice as many earthquakes above magnitude 3.0 than in 2007, which itself was the most seismically active year in the new millennium. They say this is important information, because it may be a harbinger of bigger quakes to come. The other possibility is that it may not. Other scientists theorize that the increased frequency of small temblors relieves the stress on the faults, decreasing the likelihood of a disastrous quake.

That’s a relief. I feel so much better now that I know science is working for me. It’s kind of like trying to follow medical science’s latest pronouncements about the importance of this or that vitamin or foodstuff. Like the announcement the other day that all those antioxidants they’ve been pushing lately obviate the benefits of exercise. So I guess you have to decide: cut down on the broccoli or give up exercise. Tough call.

May 11

With all the words in the language, you’d think there would be at least one that means whatever you want to say. But sometimes the precise word you need does not exist in the lexicon. The LAXICON (a carelessly assembled compendium of words that don’t quite exist but ought to) was created to fill this void. It arose from a game popularized by the Washington Post in which a new and desperately needed word is formed from an existing word (or phrase) by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter.

The Laxicon is currently closing in on 50 pages, but new additions (are there old additions?) are always welcome.

Herewith a few of my favorite examples. My beloved spouse threatens me with the skullet (vide infra) if I try more than 3 in one day, but I trust you will be more tolerant.

ABANUENSIS: an assistant who runs off and leaves you in the lurch.

AUTONOBILE: a motor vehicle that is more often in the shop than on the road.

CLAUSNTROPHOBIA: fear of pickles.

ENDOWD: to cause to look frumpy.

IMPROBISATION: making up unlikely stories on the spur of the moment.

MAITRE D’OOTEL: a headwaiter who is prone to gossip.

NONOSECOND: the interval between realizing one’s error and pressing “send.”

POULTERGEIST: a ghost that makes a noise like a chicken.

QUITAR: a musical instrument used for a short period and then stored away indefinitely.

RELICATESSEN: a restaurant that serves leftovers and stale bread.

SKULLET: an aerodynamically-designed frying pan used to settle marital disagreements.

There are plenty more, but I see you hefting the frying pan. I’ll put up another batch next time I have nothing to say.

May 6: In Praise of Media Bias

Serious newspapers take pains to point out that the Editorial Page is separate from the News Department. The implication is that the news is no place for opinion. Any professional journalist will tell you, as Arthur Sulzberger did in his Reuters Memorial Lecture, that his job is “hard reporting and thoughtful analysis.”

But how do you do thoughtful analysis without expressing an opinion? I don’t mean a newsman should start with an opinion, like Bill O’Reilly does, and then present that as news or report whatever he can muster to support his preconceived notion. But if a reporter is in possession of all of the available information, how can he avoid making judgments and conclusions? And if he believes his conclusions are unavoidable, how can he not report them as part of the story, part of the facts? Isn’t part of the job to tell the public what the information means?

Somewhere in the Newsman’s Code it is written that you can’t be considered impartial unless you present opposing views, even when one of the opposing views is patently absurd. That, it seems to me, is where journalistic integrity demands that the reporter reach a conclusion. The concept of equal time should apply only to arguments of equal persuasiveness.

A reporter should certainly look into a story without bias. But if he hasn’t become biased as a result of his investigation, he hasn’t finished his job.

That’s just my viewpoint, of course, and you may not agree with it. You are certainly entitled to your own misguided, ill-informed, and grossly biased contrary opinion.

May 2

In the beginning there was radio. And there were news broadcasts, which told you what was going on. Then Philo Farnsworth came along, and suddenly the news had pictures. In order to distinguish it from the radio news, TV news had to have pictures, even when there was nothing to show. Thus was born the “on-site” broadcast, which required a “live” (i.e., taped) shot of the reporter standing in front of the high school, at 11:00 P.M., where hazing was alleged to have happened. Last week. During the day, when there were actually people in the school. Do they really need to send a crew out to the site for a story that begins “That’s right, John, the woman’s body and the car have been removed from the scene here on Colton Street…”?

The first television news broadcast was on May 10, 1928 (before Farnsworth, in fact, who first demonstrated all-electronic TV in September of that year). You would think they would have come up with a better way to exploit the use of visual imagery since then. Jeanine thinks they have: cameras in helicopters so you can watch the freeway car chase as it happens. Some of us don’t consider that a step forward.

The news certainly needs something. Recent TV news articles I’ve seen include a piece on people throwing parties to celebrate their divorce (with or without their new exes invited), Jamie Foxx’s apology to Miley Cyrus for telling her to make a sex tape and get on with her life, and a ten-minute, team coverage report of Britney’s concert at Staples Center. You will be pleased to know that Britney is back and she looks good.

You can count on at least one “news” article that is a not-even-thinly veiled promo for one of the network’s new or foundering shows. “Coming up: George Pennachio reports on who twisted an ankle taping tonight’s ‘Dancing With The Stars, seen right here on XYZ TV at 9, 8 Central!’” The big news of the day is who’s shtupping (Yiddish for—you know perfectly well what for) whom tonight on Grey’s Anatomy.

It seems like half of the content of the 5:00 o’clock news is teasers on what’s coming up on the 6:00 o’clock news (a hard-hitting investigative report on how you can lose weight by eating tofu), and most of the 6:00 o’clock news is the same stuff they had at 5:00. Even worse are the teasers for what’s going to be coming up on next Sunday’s news. How the hell do they know what the news is going to be next Sunday? Don’t answer that—rhetorical question.

I’m glad they have the weather forecast, even if it’s wrong. But is there any reason they can’t just give it, instead of breaking it into 3 installments? “It was 68 degrees today. Will we have rain tomorrow? Stay tuned.” And I guess I’m glad they have all that fancy meteorology equipment but even the weatherman has trouble keeping a straight face when referring to his segment every time not as the weather but the “Live Mega Doppler 7000 HD weather.” It doesn’t make the weather any better, or the prediction any more accurate, but at least it’s colorful.

The opinions expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect--well, yes, come to think of it, I guess they do.

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