2011 September

	2008, SEPTEMBER

September 28

Unless you happen to be a guitar person, you may have missed the news some weeks ago when the federal government raided the Gibson Guitar factory and seized 10,000 ebony fretboards as well as guitar necks and bodies containing rosewood because they ”may have been” imported from India in violation of the Lacey Act. The Republicans think this was a stupid thing to do and are gleefully using it as an example of why we need less regulation and less government. The Democrats think it was a stupid thing to do because it was a stupid thing to do.

The 1900 Lacey Act, as amended in 2008, bans importation of wood products logged in violation of American law or the law of the country where the trees grow. Gibson broke no U.S. law in importing the wood cut to rough size, but not as finished pieces. But under Indian law, ebony and rosewood cannot be exported in their unfinished, sawed state. Gibson and other guitar makers have been doing it this way for years, apparently with the blessing of the Indian government, but that seems to be beside the point.

So what is the point? The legislation was enacted to protect the American forestry industry, and was supported by environmentalists in hopes it would help reduce deforestation abroad. We don’t grow ebony or rosewood in America, so that can’t be the objection. And it wouldn’t save any trees if Gibson had the wood finished in India before putting it on the boat. So apparently the reason the feds confiscated a million dollars worth of inventory is to punish Gibson for the sin of using workers in Nashville instead of Calcutta.

September 20

My son, That Dave, is a responsible adult, but keep that under your hat: he works in a Creative field, and if the word got out it could ruin his professional reputation. He has a closet full of shoes—all Van’s. He wears the checkerboard models to work, and has black Van’s for formal occasions.

When I was a kid we wore sneakers. Tennis shoes, they were called, although hardly anybody I knew even played tennis. We wore tennis shoes for everything: running, taking out the trash, playing ball, even kick the can. P.F. Converse, mostly—and none of these sissy low-cut things, either. The kids from Beverly Hills wore dress shoes: Keds.

These days, every activity has its own specialty shoe. The idea of having a shoe for walking and a different shoe for running would never have occurred to us back then. Now there’s a shoe for walking fast and a shoe (“casual”) for walking slow. There are trainers. What you might be training for is not specified, but if you are training for something else, you wear cross-trainers. You don’t have to believe what That Dave says, that cross trainers are what curmudgeons wear—he’s Creative, after all. They have crew shoes, pit shoes, volleyball shoes, shoes for riding your bike. There’s even something called the Oakley SI assault shoe, developed with the military but now available, like Hummers in their day, to any old slug.

There are shoes for skating, shoes for skateboarding, and shoes with skate wheels built in so you can fall down in the mall. You can buy a “TT3 Business” shoe, but you can’t wear it for business.

Big 5 has a full page ad just for sneakers. Shoes for walking, running, and hiking as well as “lifestyle” and “casual” shoes—I’m sure there is some difference. They have court shoes, but they don’t say what court they’re for. Not basketball, since there are separate basketball shoes. Not those wing tips lawyers wear, either; whatever else they may be, court shoes are definitely sneakers.

There are, of course, any number of models to choose from as well. I made note of the bewildering variety of shoe names once before, but I hadn’t realized that they change the names every week. This week you can buy “Dual-D-Hoop,” “Double Double,” “Storm,” “Livingston,” “Take ‘Em,” or “Slam Time.” And that’s just the basketball shoes. Shoe names range from the cryptic (RD 1.5, Pure) to the bizarre (Hedgehog, Speed Killers [how’s that for a name for a running shoe?]), from the mundane (General, Premier) to the exotic (Vendetta Snow, Jazz Lo Pro Vegan) to the downright scary (Rikers, Overboard, Crook Select, Munition).

I guess this is progress. But how many of these shoes can you wear to creep silently partway down the stairs so you can hear what the grownups are saying? That’s what sneakers used to be for.

September 13

Malcolm Gladwell, whom you should all read if you haven’t yet, propounds the “10,00 hour rule” in his book Outliers. Basically he theorizes that there is no such thing as innate talent, and what distinguishes an expert—in any field—from a shlub is that the expert has worked 10,000 hours to master his subject. I found this encouraging for us shlubs until I got to wondering what makes somebody put in 8 or 10 hours a day practicing anything. I wrote this letter to Gladwell:

As a man who first attempted to learn a musical instrument at age 66, I have been heartened by the theory that virtuosity is merely a matter of putting in 10,000 hours of practice. I figured if I played my guitar 10 hours a day (admittedly unlikely, but not impossible) I'll be good at it before I hit 70. Then I thought maybe there's another explanation for the data. To take your musical example from the Berlin Academy of Music, all of the musicians began at age 5 practicing 2-3 hours a week. By age 9, the future stars were up to 6 hours a week while the duds were out playing soccer or whatever. But isn't it possible that the elite players practiced more because they had something special--talent--and were excited and stimulated to practice more because they got better?

I know, I know--everybody gets better with practice. Even me. But at ten hours a week it takes months for me to notice significant improvement. I'm pretty sure I'd practice more if I had some immediate feedback that led me to believe I could really do it.

I'm just into "Outliers" and I realize you may have answered my question farther along in the book, but I'm at the age where I have to ask as soon as the question occurs to me because I have no idea how much time I have left.

I'll let you know his answer.

September 6

Time for another quick peek at the old Laxicon.

ANTEDELIVIAN: before the pizza guy gets here.

BANALYST: a psychiatrist who deals with routine problems.

CARBUNGLE: the consumption of a doughnut in the mistaken belief that it is sugar-free.

DOPELER EFFECT: the tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

ERONEOUS: mistaking the location of the “G” spot.

FALLOON: a hot air craft whose pilot light has blown out.

GIGOLOO: a male prostitute who does sex acts in bathrooms.

HABITOT: a day-care center.

IBINERARY: a list of places you’ve already gone.

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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