I Want My MTV

I just finished the absolutely riveting “I Want My MTV” by Craig Marks and Rob Tannenbaum which documents the heyday (for those of a certain age group) of the groundbreaking music network. The story traces the arc of MTV as it rose from scrappy startup in 1981 flying by the seat of its pants to the juggernaut it soon became as it changed the face of popular music. The book's narrative ends in the mid 90s as the network began its transition away from groundbreaking cable powerhouse towards reality-show warehouse. All along the way, there is a ton of juicy gossip and decadence to sink your teeth into.

At almost 600 pages, “I Want My MTV” is a surprisingly breezy read- every time I picked it up, I fought to put it down. So many images from MTV that have been seared into my memory sprang back to life as I read the book: Larry “Bud” Melman kicking Run-DMC out of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; David Lee Roth swinging across the stage on a pulley while holding a boombox to his head; Axl Rose getting off the Greyhound bus at the bus depot. "I Want My MTV" comprehensively documents all of the music movements that MTV blasted into our living rooms, from post New Wave to rap to metal to grunge. Also included are the stories and remembrances of the executives who worked behind the scenes as well as the VJs who were in front of the camera. As I turned the pages, I had a lot of “oh yeah” moments about things I hadn't thought about in a long time about like MTV Spring Break, Remote Control, and MTV Unplugged.

By them time you're done reading this book, you may find yourself saddened at the current state of MTV. As Dave Holmes says at the end of the book, no one is going to remember anything in particular about "My Super Sweet 16" as they will a Duran Duran video. Thankfully, all of the good bits are preserved forever online. When you read “I Want My MTV”, you will find yourself scrambling to YouTube to relive some of the best memories of your upbringing.

Cometbus

I've been checking out the new Cometbus anthology “Add Toner- A Cometbus Collection” that Last Gasp just put out. For the uninitiated, Aaron Cometbus has been putting out his zine Cometbus since the early 80s. The fact that someone is willing to publish a zine comp in 2011 is a nice little reminder that the small press underground has not been completely obliterated by the blogsphere and e-world. Every issue of Cometbus has been handwritten and assembled in true DIY bare-bones fashion (though I'm not sure if they're still xeroxed). The zine has covered Aaron's travels around the country (and more recently, around the world, as documented in his recent memoir of touring Asia with his old friends in Green Day). Over the years, he's documented his life as well as the lives of punk rockers and other under-the-radar types who dwell outside the bankers' hours existence that for many defines the epitome of American existence. In this compilation, Aaron covers the years 1998-2002 when he was living in Asheville NC, St. Louis, as well as his hometown of Berkeley. He documents the romance, travel, and (of course) music that shaped his life in those years. The section on Berkeley, “Lansky", ties all of this together as it covers a decent chunk of Berkeley history and sites as well as Aaron's own history growing up as a punk in Berkeley. The stories are chock full of the eccentric characters that weaved their way into his life. Rounding out “Add Toner” is “Back To The Land”, a collection of interviews with those who have chosen to abandon city life for simpler living and “8 Out Of 10 Days”, a collection of previously unpublished stories. Having been a fan of Cometbus for over 15 years, one undercurrent that has always resonated with me is Aaron's journey of growing older while embracing the punk DIY ethic that's guided him all these years. I've always pictured Aaron as a monastic punk who survives on just the bare essentials. He always seems to travel light and because of this, he's not forced to make decisions that are based on the necessity to accumulate goods or preserve an expensive lifestyle.

My reading of this collection is particularly interesting timing for me as I am now closer to 50 than 30. I've been thinking a lot lately about where I am in life. Hey, I have it real good these days so I am hardly suffering. But each day, I put on my middle-class uniform and shined shoes before hustling to a really big gleaming office building where I put in 9-10 hours a day doing work that is virtually meaningless to me beyond the fact that every 2 weeks there is money in my bank account that was deposited there by those who own my soul. When I was in my 20s I had a notion that I'd get older but somehow maintain my youthful spirit but somehow life got in the way. I've sworn repeatedly that I would never again take an office job but when The Man came around jingling the dough and bennies, I was roped like a steer. I've admired the way that Aaron has been able to keep true to himself all these years. His simple living reminds me of the old saying “that which you possess also possesses you.”

Somewhere along the way, I made a decision (or perhaps an indecision) due to a perceived need for more stability in my life. Perhaps complacency has led me to a point where I am yearning to do something more fulfilling with my life besides helping some wealthy people become even more wealthy. When I see my company's executives beg their investors for more money, I know that the master plan is to ensure that the fat cats get fatter and not to necessarily build something that will sustain all of us. If the grown-ups at my job pull off their scheme they will walk away very wealthy and re-convene down the road to start up the engine once again in an entirely new setting. Frankly, there's no reward for me if/when this happens. In fact, it could very well mean the end of my job.

So what separates someone like me from someone like Aaron Cometbus? Is it plain old fear? Is it attachment to what I think I need to have in my life to be content? Do I lack humility? I really don't know and I guess I'm processing my mid-life crisis in front of the handful of people that will actually read this. One of the motivations in starting this blog was to provide myself with an outlet where I can express my true self as a reminder that some ember of that still exists. The destination at the end of this is a mystery to me but I'll never know if I don't take steps in the direction that is calling me. You've just finished reading a small milepost on the quest to figure out where to set the sails.

Buy "Add Toner" by clicking here.

They Walk Among Us

I just finished reading “The Psychopath Test”, the incredible new book by Jon Ronson. What starts off as the investigation of a hoax evolves into an exploration of psychopaths and the psychiatric industry. Ronson meets with leading psychologists as well as institutionalized patients in his quest to gain a clearer understanding of the psychopath personality disorder.

Much of the book centers around the Hare Checklist that was developed by Dr Robert Hare to help evaluate potential psychopaths by rating people on 20 components including:

• superficial charm
• lack of remorse or guilt
• callousness
• lack of empathy
• shallow nature
• failure to aceept responsibility for one's actions
• grandiosity

Early on, Ronson points out that while psychopaths represent barely 1% of the population, they seem to be prevalent in positions of power to a much greater degree. They're not all muttering to themselves in the streets or chasing people around with butcher knives. Some, like the former Haitian death-squad leader Ronson meets in Queens, certainly fit some preconceived notions of how a psychopath might behave. Others, like legendary headcount killer CEO “Chainsaw” Al Dunlop, become more vivid as Ronson uses Hare's Checklist to illuminate their behavior in this context. The point is that not only do these people walk among us, they are leading our industries and exist in the upper echelons of our society. The scary thing is that there is no cure as the root causes seem to be with the brain's own wiring.

While reading this book, I started thinking about the people who packaged sub-prime mortgages and subsequently bet against them. Their calculating ways led us into an economic crisis that ruined lives and made its architects obscenely wealthy. Did they sit around in their steel towers considering for a second the people who were going to suffer greatly if their bets paid off? I don’t believe they gave it a single thought. My belief is that these people do not possess the ability to think beyond spreadsheets and numbers to drill down to the level required to feel empathy. What they saw on paper looked like a sure thing and that was the end of the discussion.  If I were to come up with a plan to make a lot of money, I don’t think I would be able to move forward if I thought there was a chance that a lot of people would be seriously harmed in the process. If you look at the Hare Checklist, you might cite the bullets above as proof that these people possess traits of a psychopath. Who really knows?

As Ronson points out, there is a danger in putting people into neatly organized categories and making sweeping conclusions about them. He brings up childhood bipolar disorder as an example of how so many children have been medicated and labeled without thorough oversight. As I read “The Psychopath Test”, I started to wonder about myself. (Thankfully, Ronson takes the time to point out that if you become nervous as you read his book, you're not a psychopath). I don't think that most people are all one thing or another. The majority of us live on the in-betweens but I have to admit that there are people in my life that I'm seriously re-considering now that I've read this book.

Photo courtesy of http://neuroanthropology.net.

Hobo Envy

I just finished reading “Riding Toward Everywhere” by William T. Vollmann. I've wanted to sample his work for a while but wasn't ready to dive into one of his weightier tomes. This relatively short book is his account of “riding the rails”, or surreptitiously hopping aboard freight trains as they make their way up and down the coasts. Inherent in these trips is the attempt to stay a step ahead of ever-present danger. As it is illegal to sneak aboard trains, there's always the risk of getting caught and/or beaten up by the security guard “bulls” who patrol the train yards. Also, jumping on or off a moving train poses the potential of broken limbs or death.

As a “feauxbeaux” (or fake hobo), Vollmann always has a bed to come home to at the end of his journeys. He gets to dip his toe into the waters of the hobo life without worrying so much about material comforts. Driving all of this is a passion for the wide open spaces that are attainable only by rail routes that plow through unspoiled areas. While Vollmann doesn't have to live in hobo villages, he still takes part in a lifestyle that is beyond the grasp of the non-hobo “citizens” who live traditional, structured lives. Throughout “Riding Towards Everywhere”, Vollman documents the fruits of his journeys: the interactions he has with people who cross his path and the bounties of natural wonder that he experiences through the open door of a rail car. For me, the lesson that's made loud and clear is that if you want to experience things in life that not everyone gets to experience, you have to take routes that not everyone is willing or able to take.

As I read “Riding Toward Everywhere”, I couldn't help but feel envy for the people that Vollmann meets who seem to be freer than the rest of us who worry about jobs, apartments, 401Ks, etc. I've spent a lot of time feeling like I have no choices because I've created a narrative that dictates certain requirements and tangible anchors in order for me to feel safe. I don't feel like I could just shed everything and walk away. As the old saying goes, “the more that you possess, the more that possesses you”. To me, these folks seem to embody freedom as they are unencumbered by the pressures of working for The Man. Much of this viewpoint is fantasy, of course. I have no idea where these hobos came from nor do I have any sense of the pain they may experience on a daily basis. All of this eludes me as I type this on my shiny iMac that sits on a beautiful wooden desk within the confines of a comfortable apartment.

At one point, Vollmann quotes part of this passage from “On The Road”:

In an instant all the city of Gregoria could hear the good times going on at the Sala de Baile. In the hall itself the din of the music — for this is the real way to play a jukebox and what it was originally for — was so tremendous that it shattered Dean and Stan and me for a moment in the realization that we had never dared to play music as loud as we wanted, and this was how loud we wanted. (Bold emphasis added.)

I feel as if those who live more freely than me (hobo or “citizen”) are the ones who crank the dial of life to 11 and let 'er rip. People in this category are the ones who have traveled, lived in other places (sometimes not so glamorously), and have been willing to throw caution to the wind without worrying so much about the results. They have stories instead of regrets. I've lived most of my life terrified of risk and unable to speak out and be who I wanted to be. I did what I was told when I was young while others told off the teachers, got high behind their parents' backs, and didn't give a shit about the mythical “permanent record” that supposedly tracked all of your youthful discretions for the purpose of screwing you as an adult. Those running on 11 tend to do things that are seemingly unwise with the potential of having their actions backfire in their faces. If I knew then what I know now, I would've taken the governor off long before I did because those who flaunted the rules won the game in terms of adventure and fulfillment. I can assure you that keeping the music muffled at 2 or 3 won't get you there.

I'm taking steps these days to get out of that self-made prison of fear and someday I might document some of that journey. Each day, I try to do something that makes me uncomfortable so I can prove to myself that I can get through the experience unscathed. As I make these small gestures, I feel a little bit better about myself. I may never ride the rails but I can still move towards a greater sense of freedom.

Photo courtesy of www.thehobosoul.com.