Busy as a Swarm of Bees

Sorry about the lapse of blogs, but a lot has happened between the last one and now, including a Media Ecology Association convention in St. Louis, finishing packing, driving a 26' foot truck to the plains of Canada (where, it is said, it is so flat that if you stand on a cigarette box you can see a dog run away for three days), getting caught in major storms along the way, taking possession of our house, and so on and so on and scooby-dooby-doo.

Fear not, I have been writing in the meanwhile (long-hand!), and will start inputting as I can.

Thanks for your patience.

Lost and Found at the Brooklyn Library

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

As I infamously have dial-up in the apartment, sometimes it is necessary to go to the local public library for means of expediency. Plus, when my partner recently came to town schlepping her laptop computer, she needed a quick connection to the ‘Net for some large files. Again, the library seemed the way to go.

One Monday, we trekked over to the New Utrecht branch and parked in the public lot next door. The librarian sent her to where she could plug in her laptop, but we could not find where to connect the Ethernet cable to get on the Web.

I went over to the information desk and the nice older lady and the sweet guy with the comb-over had no clue what to do, and recommended we talk to the security guard. Vinny is with the NYPD, and works in the library system. I’ve seen him there a number of times, and he has always tried to be helpful to as many people as he can; he also gets cell hone yellers to tone it down (digression: why are cell phones even allowed in libraries? They should be checked in at the door).

Not sure what to do personally, Vinny directed us over to the local computer wiz, who always sits in the same place every day, it seems, which was directly across a table from where my partner was parked. Essentially, there is no plug-in connection, only wifi, which her computer was not equipped. Luckily, most of the work she needed to do was on the laptop, and she only needed to email it at the end.

While she started working away, I signed up for using the library’s public computers to check my own emails, etc. The way it works at the Brooklyn Public Library system is not too smart, nor fair. One gets two 30-minute segments per day and that’s it, no matter how crowded the library is, or is not. Because the system is all connected for the borough, once your hour is up, it is complete for all the libraries in Brooklyn.

After a 10-minute cyber queue, I got to one of the three computers that I can plug in my external 500-gig hard drive, so I could take some family photos I took this past weekend and put them on the hard drive, thereby clearing off the camera’s card and giving me room for when I go to the Media Ecology Association’s conference coming up later this month. Also, I got to organize some of the other pix on the drive and put them into their correct folders. Bonus.

When the first 30-minute segment was up, I checked with my partner and she was still busying working on editing a Word document. She explained that she was still busy, and I should sign up for the ‘Net again. Logging into the library’s queue again, there was a 30-minute wait until a computer was free and I could get access.

The library was quite crowded this day with latch-key kids, older Russian women, moms with screaming babies (including one at the computer right next to mine first time around), older people who can’t afford to buy books yet have lots of time to read, others who are unemployed, and the disabled, all who use the library as a gathering place to read the free newspapers and discuss the hot topics, in tones fit for their living rooms rather than libraries. There are just too many to shush, even for Vinny.

While I waited, I checked out the DVD section. I love renting free DVDs from the library. Yes, it is true that some people have no idea how to treat public property, and some of the DVDs are so abused they are unwatchable, but sometimes I like the more esoteric stuff that less people will rent. Besides, there are some films I would I would only watch for free, such as Hostel and Saw. I occasionally get surprised by what they do have, such as Short Bus and the awful ego-piece Brown Bunny (Buffalo 66 was so much better). The only one that stuck my fancy was the new Patti Smith documentary, but I ended up not getting it, anyway.

My time on the computer came up, and I let my partner know, but she was not yet ready. I took the 30 minutes to answer emails, check Facebook and MySpace, and the like. Then the second and final session of the day was over. My partner was still working away.

I read the newspaper for the day, and the one for the Saturday before, and looked at their splendid collection of graphic novels. Looking up, I noticed that my partner had finished her task, and now needed to send the project by email; but I had no time left of the computer station. We were about to go to the librarian for some help, when she spotted a computer that was vacant, but still had some time on it. In all the occasions I have spent in that library, I had never seen that happen. She jumped on it, used a stick that contained the document, and sent it, just as time ran out. Providence was definitely on her side, for sure.

After our excited Wow, can you believe the luck comments, we went to the checkout desk to find out about access in the future for her. Seems for $3 per day, a card can be purchased that gives one an additional two sessions as a “guest.” Then I realized that is why one is only allowed two sessions per day on their library card, so they have to purchase more time. Evil, but clever.

With that, we left the library and went home.

A couple of mornings later, my partner was sitting on the couch and one of our cats was sitting on the back of couch behind her, splayed out and using my partner’s head as a pillow. She said, “You should take a picture!”

Looking around the apartment, I realized I cannot find my backpack that held my camera and my external drive. I start to panic. Looking and re-looking in every crevasse of the abode and even the car, the bag is simply gone. My stress levels were way up.

We talked it over tried to figure out the last place we remember seeing it. We both come to the conclusion that it was at the library, at the checkout desk. I was carrying the laptop bag and my backpack, and because of weight, I put them down. After the conversation was over, I picked up the computer bag and not the backpack. At least, that was what we concluded.

It was 9 AM, and the library opened at 1 PM. My partner, being the proactive wonder she is, called up the Main Branch of the library. She talked to a couple of people there, who eventually transferred her to the security division. In all the wonders of the world, the person who picked up the phone was Vinny, the security guard who was on duty the day the bag went missing!

She said, “My husband is sitting here vibrating because he may have left the bag at the library” (I’m shortening the conversation for your concern, reader), and he responded, “A blue and black bag?” Seems our imagined scenario was correct, and the bag was being kept behind the counter. Vinny said he’d call ahead and let them know I’d be coming.

We were elated, but still cautious because (a) there was no guarantee that it was my bag, and (b) there was also no assurance that everything would be intact within it.

When the library opened up at 1 PM, I was waiting. Quickly, I went to the checkout desk and told them about the backpack. The quiet heavily accented Russian librarian reached under the counter (in a place that was very inconspicuous), and pulled out what turned out to be, indeed, my bag.

“You have ID?” she asked, as I had quickly already opened the bag, seeing everything was still there: camera bag and its contents, and the hard drive. “Yes, and I’ll prove it’s mine,” I responded. In one of the pockets of the camera bag is my business card, with my name writ large (and a photo of Johnny Thunders I took at the Peppermint Lounge in the ‘80s). Taking out the card and putting it on the counter in front of her, I then reached into my back pocket and pulled out my driver’s license with my photo, and put them side-by-side. She smiled and said, “Okay.”

My legs were a bit watery as I took my bag and went to tell my partner the good news. While I have some obvious problems with the library system, it is more systematic that people-focused. The New Utrecht branch of the New York Public Library has my many and heartfelt thanks and gratitude for being menches.

Conclusion: I told this story to my pal Alan Abramowitz, and it wasn’t the rescue of the bag that amazed him as much as my obliqueness of leaving it behind in the first place. My partner and I had a good laugh with him about that. I’ll definitely be more cautious next time. I hope!

Some Last Look Views of Brooklyn: 2009

Text and photos (c) Robert Barry Francos

Here are some memories of Brooklyn, New York

2009:
What used to be the Walker Theatre, on 18th Avenue and 68th Street. All the great Italian superstars, like Pat Cooper and Mario Lanza would play here. When the theater shuttered in the '80s, the beautiful interior was gutted the night before it was going to be declared a landmark.
Westward view towards the meeting of the BQE and the Prospect Expressway
A snowy evening

A Dream on May 24, 2009

Text © Robert Barry Francos

When the part of the dream starts that I remember I am sitting at a table in a darkened restaurant in a huge room. At the front of the room is an unlit stage. Sitting at the table are a few members of the Media Ecology Association, and Terence M– (one of my professors at New York University when I went for my Masters), and some friends/ex-coworkers, including Cindy.

The waitress comes over for drink orders. I try to tell her I want one drink for myself, one for Cindy, and a shot for Terry, and that I’ll treat. She is an expressionless Russian-looking woman who is in the later ‘50s or early ‘60s. I get into an argument with her about the order, and eventually tell her I’m going to get the drinks directly from the bar, so she doesn’t get the order or the tip.

The L-shaped bar in the back has a line of about 6-7 people ahead of me. It takes a while, but I finally get the three drinks on a tray, and come back to the table. Cindy has already left by that point, and Terry is leaving, not wanting his drink. I down all three, but am surprised I don’t “feel” them.

In dream logic, I realize I am wearing only boxers and a t-shirt (which is what I am wearing while having this dream). While not embarrassed, I am annoyed when I see that my clothes are not at the table, and I wonder if the waitress has taken them.

I walk over to the cloak room at the left side of the stage, and see if they are in there, but all they have is my black, puffy down jacket. After putting it on over the t-shirt, I notice that my friend Dermot is sitting on a bench at the rear of the cloakroom, reading a magazine. I say hello to him, and tell him about everything that has happened, while he is quite bemused by it all.

When I emerge from the cloakroom, there is a comedian on the still unlit stage, who keeps talking through the rest of the time I am in the room, but nobody – including myself – pays any attention to him. It is just a droning background noise.

I head back to the table, which is now an L-shaped booth. There are many MEA faces I recognize (not real-life people), and their families, including children. I think I see Thom G–, but it ends up being someone else I know, and I ask him if he had found my clothes, and he replies negatively.

Figuring it is time to see if there is a Lost and Found, I walk to an ascending staircase just before the bar, and walk up into the lobby of a hotel to which the restaurant is part.

Disgusted, I walk to the front desk, which is located near the top of the stairs. There are two male hotel employees behind the marble desk. An older one is familiar to me within the dream; either I dreamed him in an earlier part that I don’t remember, or it is just dream logic. He avoids me because of our previous encounter, and I start asking about the Lost and Found, and telling him the story of what happened.

That’s when I woke up.

Another Perpective on the Coolness of Fonzie

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

At last year’s Media Ecology Association conference at Santa Clara University in California, I was having lunch with a bunch of academics I like. One of them was from Milwaukee, and she was commenting how she is now part of a growing protest in that town.

Seems the Powers That Be had decided that, much in the way Philadelphia created a statue to Rocky Balboa, Milwaukee would be well served by similarly immortalizing Arthur Fonzarelli, more commonly known by the nickname, Fonzie, or just The Fonz.

This makes little sense to me. While the Fonz was possibly the most lasting character from the series of shows from the ‘70s and ‘80s that took place in the ‘50s (Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, Joanie Loves Chachi), he still seems as strange a choice to me as Potzie or Ralph Malph. Most of the other characters of the shows, such as the Mr. & Mrs. Cunningham (homemaker and hardware store owner, respectively), Laverne and Shirley (factory workers), whichever Al (diner owner), and even Carmine (dance instructor), were basically hard working, lower middle class members of society who strove for something better. They may have been part of the sweating masses, but they were more together for it.

Fonzie was looked on as the epitome of hip, but in essence he was exactly the opposite. Yes, girls lusted for him, he could be scary (though less so as seasons wore on), and he could turn on a jukebox with his fist, but whatever coolness he had was more because of the acting of Henry Winkler, who portrayed him, than was his character.

Let me backtrack a bit. In the first season of Happy Days, when they still used Bill Haley & His Comet’s “Rock Around the Clock” as the show’s theme, I actually do believe the Fonz was cool. He wore a light-colored cloth jacket and was seen marginally as a recurring character that was more flavor than focus; he just “was”. Whatever happened, he contained his composure, and just went with it. He swaggered, but never rushed. Fonzie was comfortable in his own skin. That is part of why he became so popular so fast with the audience.

As the seasons wore on, the cloth jacket was replaced by a leather one, and his personality changed way before he decided to become a teacher around the time he changed the language of culture, by going too far and literally “jumping the shark.”

When one is truly “cool,” one does not care what other people think of them, which is the essence of coolosity. The need to show off is not present because, well, there is no need. This attitude is made pointedly in an episode of Family Guy when Stewie Griffin is trying to prove to Brian that he can get accepted by the cool kids on campus. His entire attitude is “Whatever” followed by the acknowledgement of the ultimate coolness: “Hey, I’m wearing a short sleeved shirt over a long sleeved shirt over a short sleeved shirt.” Of course, he is not truly cool because he has “played” the issue, putting on the situation, yet still nails the perceived attitude. Ironically, one episode of the show centers on a religion formed by patriarch Peter Griffin based on the coolness of the Fonz.

Back on Happy Days, as the seasons wore on with Fonzie becoming more of the focus of the show, becoming the de facto main character (as Michael J. Fox’s character did in Family Ties), he quickly lost his cool. Suddenly he was rushing places, losing his temper, needing to defend his manhood from others, and unable to admit he was “wrr-rr-rr…wrr-rr-rr…” wrong. But the biggest positing that he was no longer the cool icon was that so many episodes focused on his fear of being perceived by others as not being cool.

Coolness is something that just “is.” As soon as one is worried about others losing their perception of being seen as cool, one no longer can be considered that. For example, I have more respect for someone who goes to a punk show dressed in non-punk gear but has the attitude and dedication, than someone who is wearing a ‘hawk and leather-with-spikes. Punking out does not make someone punk any more than believing oneself is cool makes them cool.

What truly makes one cool (or even punk in the example cited above) is not focusing on perception. One has to truly let the vanity part of the ego go, and just be. When one reaches this point, and can let go of egocentricities, one can reach higher levels of true coolness. Look at Heath Ledger’s portrayal of the Joker. What made it so potent was he did not let his own ego block his energy. Fans and writers were wondering how could he possibly be accepted as the Joker after Jack “Wait’ll they get a load of me!” Nicholson. By the time Ledger gave his fearless performance, Nicholson seemed closer to Caesar Romero’s turn than Ledger’s. Ledger’s Joker, along with his deftness in Brokeback Mountain showed just how cool he was.

To sum up, the Fonz was not cool because he needed to consistently defend his coolness. With that defensiveness, he showed that he was not being himself because he was trying to portray an image rather than be himself. Hence, his credibility was lacking, and thus was not cool. I agree with my Milwaukee colleague: putting up a statue of the Fonz, as they did on August 19, 2008, does not symbolize a positive image. I say put one up of a glove on a beer bottle. That’s the true icon of what makes that city proud.

This particular blog was also "insisted upon itself" by my finding the following comic strip by Ray Billingsley, as I was sorting my files:
As a final note to all General Semanticists, my apologies for my use of the verb “to be.”

Live Music in the Fall of 1983

Text © Robert Barry Francos, and display advertisements
Images from Internet

The following information is taken from printed material I found while clearing out stuff I’d collected and am now disposing. This shows what a bustling scene there was in the fall of 1983. I have picked shows from ads at my own discretion, and it is not necessarily the full listings for the space, nor an endorsement of the band (i.e., does not automatically mean I like them). Comments printed in parentheses are from the ads.

CBGB and OMFUG
Thu, Oct. 23: Macambos – The Brood (from Maine) – Headless Horsemen (w/ ex Fuzztone members) – Combo Limbo
Fri, Oct. 24: Iron Curtain – White Zombie – Rat At Rat R – New Marines (Special Guest)
Tue, Oct. 28: Golden Dawn – Jing – Vernon Reid’s Living Colour – Random Facts
Wed, Oct. 23: Giant Metal Insects – Ritual Tension – Greg Ginn – Gone
Sun, Nov. 2: CMJ’s Marathon 2-2: Beastie Boys – Crying Out Loud – Damage – Honeymoon Killers – Offbeats – Random Facts – Rat At Rat R – Ritual Tension – White Zombie

City Gardens, Trenton, NJ
Sat, Oct. 25: Robert Hazard
Sun, Oct. 26: Bad Brains – Dr. Know/Das Yahoos – Serial Killers
Fri, Oct 31: Halloween Party: Gene Loves Jezebel – Until December
Fri, Nov 7: Love and Rockets
Sat, Nov 22: Peter Murphy (formerly of Bauhaus)

The Ritz
Thu, Oct. 23: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – Rat At Rat R ($12.50 advance/13.50 day of show)
Sat, Oct. 25: The Fall – Splatcats ($12.50/13.50)
Mon, Oct. 27: Free! See the Cro-Mags live and be in a movie! You will be admitted at 10 AM-11 AM to stay until 11 PM.
Thu, Oct. 30: Bachman Turner Overdrive ($12.50/13.50)
Fri, Oct. 31: A Halloween Spectacular: The 10th Anniversary Reunion of the Dead Boys – Smashed Gladys – Angels in Vain ($15.50/17.50)
Sat, Nov. 1: Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians – Beat Rodeo ($12.50/13.50)
Thu, Nov. 6; Fri Nov. 7: The Ramones ($12.50/13.50)
Sat, Nov. 8: The Richard Thompson Band – Guadal Canal Diary (2 shows by popular demand) ($14.50/15.50)
Sun, Nov. 9: Rock Hotel Show: Motorhead – Cro-Mags – Dark Angel ($12.50/13.50)
Thu, Nov. 13; Fri, Nov. 14: Iggy Pop ($14.50/15.50)
Sat, Nov. 29: Sam Kinison (limited seating)
Sun, Dec. 6: Slayer – Overkill

One of the interesting things to note is the prices, as listed by the Ritz. At the time, these were seen as expensive, but not compared to now, even when weighted against today’s dollar vs. then dollar. Plus there were no exorbitant ticketing service fees that ripped off the attendee, though one had to go down to the actual venue to pick the tickets up.

In the case of these shows, I must admit that I did not see any of them, though I went to shows regularly during that period. There are a few I would have liked to attended, such as the Ramones (duh), the Brood/Headless Horsemen, Greg Ginn (my ’80s West Coast bands experience is kind of limited), the Splatcats (Yod!), the Dead Boys, Richard Thompson, and Iggy; there are other bands that I would have had no interest in then or now, like the Beastie Boys (sorry Ant & Ricky), Slayer, Gene Loves Jezebel, or Peter Murphy.

Point is, there was a lot going on back then, and it was a great time to be seeing live music in the area.

Musings on Broadcast Television in May 2009

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

The 2008/09 broadcast television season is ending this month, and the collision of the new digital-only demand make a perfect storm of the best and the worst of what is out there. Due to this, I was having some random thoughts about the state of television. In no particular order:

• As a follower of Media Ecology, I found a particular point of interest in the last half hour of The Celebrity Apprentice, a show of which I’ve probably seen maybe two hours worth if you include all of its seasons. In the live finale, Donald Trump asked Clint Black whom he would fire if he had the power, and his response was, “The editor.” These two words say so much about what we know as Reality TV, but it was followed by the sounds of crickets as critics and talk shows ignored it, or missed its significance. It’s a perfect example of what Daniel J. Boorstin coined a “pseudo-event.”

• So far, since there are no other official candidates as of yet, we are being bombarded by commercials for Michael Bloomberg’s illegal run for a third term, even if his own board gave him permission. The people did not give him that, and in fact the voters have twice voted against third terms. It figures he would run though, because he has continually shown he does not care about the people of this city, except those few stockholders of corporate New York. He claims in the ad that he will fight against “special interests,” though he represents them. For example, we taxpayers paid for three stadiums in New York (one still to be built in a ruined historic neighborhood in Brooklyn), and yet we are charged exorbitant fees to attend them. When there was talk of him running for president, the first thing I said was, “Wow, just think of all the stadiums he could build across the country!” Another example of his being in bed with corporate greed was dealing with the closure of CBGB. There he was, in full photo opp mode as he stood there promoting the club, but when it came time to actually do anything for support, again, the sound of crickets. Sadly, he will probably win thanks to tall the people who believe his publicity, but I will not be one of them, as I was rightfully not twice before. Not my mayor, especially again.

• Also, I’ve had enough already with all the commercials for cable. Wonder where all high fees go each month? No commercial break, especially in daytime, passes without one of these better-get-it-or-else-if-you-want-television fear tactics. I just don’t want to see that bland guy in the blue sweater against the red walls in the background drone on, the whinny red headed guy with the beard, the three spinning hip-hop stooges, the gawd-awful Caribbean rap one, the one with the three women singing where the leader had bad make-up and looks like a clown-face, or the singing and conga-line dancing puppets, or any of the others. I now have to sit with the remote in my hand, ready to change the channel whenever these abominations come on.

• Who is that high-pitched Nathan Thurm look-alike guy who seems to be trying to hoodwink people on so many repeated infomercials? I turned on the television recently during the middle of the night when I had trouble sleeping and that half-hour ad was on four broadcast channels concurrently. Are really that many gullible or desperate people out there?

• Then there is Billy Mays, that guy with the beard who sells cleaning products by screaming. I’ve seen him interviewed on some infotainment show, and he was talking normally. Is he trying to replicate the guy who used to hock Crazy Eddie? Well, he doesn’t have the shtick or the personality. Talk normally or shut the hell up!

• For some reason, I do like the woman with tons of make-up who sells Progressive car insurance. Did you know actor Stephanie Courtney’s character has a name? It is Flo. Some of these ads are amusing, but it’s Flo who makes it interesting.

• A new show I like is The Big Bang Theory. While this season seems to be too focused on Sheldon’s neuroses and his companions’ fear of him rather than the group’s friendship, the show is still sharply written. I am hoping it does not become the Sheldon show, ignoring the other great characters, including some of the minor ones, like Leonard's rival from the comic store, the group’s competitor with the bad lisp, and especially Wallowitz’s unseen but definitely heard mother. BBT won me over when the foursome all dressed up as the Flash for a Halloween party, and Sheldon consequently went as the Doppler Effect. Also, they all have great comic genre t-shirts (though they are starting to repeat some of them). Some of my favorite moments from the season have included Penny’s shock when she uses a Star Trek metaphor, and when she matches Sheldon’s idiosyncratic door rapping rhythm back at him (both solo and in tandem). I am sorry they got rid of Sara Rule, though I realize in the story’s arc it was necessary.

• While I still like the original CSI (i.e., Vegas), I find Laurence Fishburne, though a fine actor, has really been slowing down the pace to a David Caruso drip. He’s a new CSI, yet he is already the authority on everything, going on solo cases, which makes no sense. That being said, there was an exceptional episode recently revolving around a “Solar Quest” convention (filling in for Star Trek. While they never mentioned any of the real characters or actors from the original show, during some fantasy sequences and the use of memorabilia, it was always obvious which particular episodes to which they were referring, even to a ST fan like me who is not a Trekker.

• Speaking of which, I recently turned on The View because Leonard Nimoy was going to be on to promote the new film, Star Trek. Seems a staff member of the show named Dave is a huge fan of all things Trek, but especially the original series. When Nimoy came on, he turned to him and said, fingers splayed, “Live long and prosper, Dave.” Dave, who gave the Hebraic-based sign back, was clearly in tears. It was a very nice and touching moment. By the way, did Nimoy get new teeth recently? His speech had a hard “shh” tone, like talking through some kind of dentures.

• Am I the only person who watches Reaper? The show has consistently been humorous, and a cast that keeps getting stronger. Yes, it is occasionally sophomoric, but it also has some thoughtful moments and themes. The introduction of Jenny Wade’s demon character, Nina, was a pleasant addition this year. I hope they don’t cancel it, when they keep all the other ‘tween romance bullshit on. This really is the only show on the CW I can stand.

• I am fully willing to admit that I didn’t appreciate Arrested Development, though I respected its work; however, the new animated show, Sit Down, Shut Up is just terrible. Hopefully, Cleveland will be better (I’m guessing it will fall somewhere between the exceedingly sharp Family Guy and the lukewarm American Dad).

• Someone should bring back The Uncle Floyd Show, already.