You know the drill. You are going to be stranded on a desert island, and you will have a solar-powered CD player but can only take five CDs with you. (Why, when the Howell's took all of their worldly belongings on a three hour cruise, you can only take five CDs seems at first to be an unnecessary hardship. But let's say the Howells are on board with you and there is just no more room...)
I have thought about this for several years--really. My friend (and my brother-in-law's brother-in-law; it's complicated) Don Mann and I will sit around and discuss this for hours. One rule we strictly abide by: No greatest hits albums. Those are artificial records made solely for a quick buck, not for art. A pox on them all.
So far I have come up with three "for sure" albums:
1. Exile On Main Street--Rolling Stones
2. Sticky Fingers--Rolling Stones
3. Eat A Peach--Allman Brothers
So, I have two more to go. Here are some of the nominees:
Pet Sounds--The Beach Boys (actually, as my friend Mike D. points out, it is Brian Wilson with The Wrecking Crew studio musicians who put this together)
Layla And Other Assorted Lovesongs--Derek and the Dominoes
Excitable Boy--Warren Zevon
Leon Live--Leon Russell
On Stage--Loggins and Messina
Hotel California--The Eagles
Kind Of Blue--Miles Davis
The Royal Scam--Steely Dan
All 'N All--Earth, Wind and Fire
And, to show I am not entirely pagan:
Glo--Delirious
Shotgun Angel--Daniel Amos
OK, go to it. Argue for or against any of these nominees. Add to the list.
Once we have this decided, the next question will be a much harder one: Ginger or Mary Ann?
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Do we really need more books?
A very humbling shopping trip today. Stopped by the Mardel in south Oklahoma City and spent some time browsing through their bargain book shelves.
(For a review of the really poor customer service I received at this--and other--Mardel store, see post below.)
There were hundreds of titles, mostly all spine-out, on half a dozen shelving units, both fiction and non-fiction. Each book had a colored sticker on it to designate what percentage off of the already discounted price you would get should you choose to buy one of these misfit books. Were these old stock books that had been in a warehouse for years, if not decades? Hardly. Many were published in 2007--I know, because I was the acquisitions editor for some. Or the writer.
It is always an, um, experience to see a book you wrote on the bargain shelf. With a 90% off sticker. I think the store was actually paying customers to take one of my books off their hands.
(At my local Borders store here in Tulsa, Scott--the general manager--likes to stock books from local authors. He has had my books on endcaps or prominent table displays. Right now, The Gospel According To Dan Brown is on a shelf just inside the store. Hardcover. Marked down to three bucks. Next to those collections of Edgar Poe poems that are priced four bucks. At least I am in good company.)
As I looked over these titles--many of them written by very notable and good authors--I had to ask myself, Do we really need to publish any more books? It is a question that I face every time I see stacks of discounted books.
Of course we do need more books. Just not as many as I or anyone in publishing would think.
Need a copy of Cracking Da Vinci's Code/Youth Edition? I know where you can get one ... cheap.
(For a review of the really poor customer service I received at this--and other--Mardel store, see post below.)
There were hundreds of titles, mostly all spine-out, on half a dozen shelving units, both fiction and non-fiction. Each book had a colored sticker on it to designate what percentage off of the already discounted price you would get should you choose to buy one of these misfit books. Were these old stock books that had been in a warehouse for years, if not decades? Hardly. Many were published in 2007--I know, because I was the acquisitions editor for some. Or the writer.
It is always an, um, experience to see a book you wrote on the bargain shelf. With a 90% off sticker. I think the store was actually paying customers to take one of my books off their hands.
(At my local Borders store here in Tulsa, Scott--the general manager--likes to stock books from local authors. He has had my books on endcaps or prominent table displays. Right now, The Gospel According To Dan Brown is on a shelf just inside the store. Hardcover. Marked down to three bucks. Next to those collections of Edgar Poe poems that are priced four bucks. At least I am in good company.)
As I looked over these titles--many of them written by very notable and good authors--I had to ask myself, Do we really need to publish any more books? It is a question that I face every time I see stacks of discounted books.
Of course we do need more books. Just not as many as I or anyone in publishing would think.
Need a copy of Cracking Da Vinci's Code/Youth Edition? I know where you can get one ... cheap.
Poor service is inexcusable
I visited the Mardel bookstore off I-240 in the City today. (Mardel is a regional Christian bookstore chain, founded by the same family who started Hobby Lobby stores. "The City" is Oklahoma City.) Wanted to get a copy of a classic book, The Cloud Of Unknowing.
They didn't have it, or even stock it. A book that has been in print almost continually since the 14th century, and they don't stock it.
What they did have--in abundance--was bad attitude.
I walked up to the incorrectly-named "customer service counter" in the book section. A woman by the name of Amy was looking over special order forms. These are pieces of paper that give the name of a book requested by a customer who is not standing at the customer service counter at the time. As a matter of fact, the customers who were represented on the papers that had Amy's rapt attention were not even in the store. As far as I know, they may not have even been in the same state.
But I was there. At the counter. In the store. In Oklahoma.
My request was simple: "If I were the book, The Cloud Of Unknowing, where would I be? The book is by an unknown author, so you would have to look it up by title." Simple, straightforward. A quick request that required a quick answer. But Amy was busy with her pieces of paper. My question caused her to have to look up from what she was doing, move her hand about eight inches to the right, and flip through her inventory catalog. A lot to ask, I know. She finally got around to doing this after sighing heavily, looking up a couple more special order titles on her computer, THEN looking for my title. Halfway through her flipping through the pages of the catalog--a demanding task, as it is ordered in alphabetical order according to title, and she had to decide if the book I mentioned would be filed under "T" or "C"--she went back to her computer screen to revisit the precious special orders.
After a wait in which I figured the Cloud had probably passed and all was now known, Amy glared in my direction.
"We don't have the book and we don't normally stock it but we can order it for you." Actually, she ran all this together so that it was more like "Wedon'thavethebookandwedon'tnormallystockitbutwecanorderitforyou." And she said this with a very clear tone that let me know ordering this book was the last thing she wanted me to do.
"I'll get it elsewhere, thanks."
"Ok." Back to the special order forms.
I don't ask that clerks in stores line my path with rose petals. They don't have to rush to my side to make sure my every need is met. But civility is expected, and kindness would not be out of line. Rudeness is my cue to take my business elsewhere. Perhaps Amy was an exception. Perhaps. But I have encountered rudeness at other Mardel stores, including the store at 71st and 169 in Tulsa, and the store on Powers in Colorado Springs. So my next guess is that floor personnel at Mardel stores are trained to be rude. Hey--all I have to go on is personal observation. My guess is as good as any.
So, unless there is a great reason for me to enter through the portal of a Mardel--and I can find books many other places (for instance, stores that actually stock a classic book)--I am done with them. Thanks Mart Green for your contribution to my alma mater. Your family's Hobby Lobby stores (founded and owned by your father) have some good deals on picture frames from time to time, so I will continue to shop there. But I am no longer interested in the rudeness your staff shows me on a consistent basis at your Mardel stores.
See ya.
They didn't have it, or even stock it. A book that has been in print almost continually since the 14th century, and they don't stock it.
What they did have--in abundance--was bad attitude.
I walked up to the incorrectly-named "customer service counter" in the book section. A woman by the name of Amy was looking over special order forms. These are pieces of paper that give the name of a book requested by a customer who is not standing at the customer service counter at the time. As a matter of fact, the customers who were represented on the papers that had Amy's rapt attention were not even in the store. As far as I know, they may not have even been in the same state.
But I was there. At the counter. In the store. In Oklahoma.
My request was simple: "If I were the book, The Cloud Of Unknowing, where would I be? The book is by an unknown author, so you would have to look it up by title." Simple, straightforward. A quick request that required a quick answer. But Amy was busy with her pieces of paper. My question caused her to have to look up from what she was doing, move her hand about eight inches to the right, and flip through her inventory catalog. A lot to ask, I know. She finally got around to doing this after sighing heavily, looking up a couple more special order titles on her computer, THEN looking for my title. Halfway through her flipping through the pages of the catalog--a demanding task, as it is ordered in alphabetical order according to title, and she had to decide if the book I mentioned would be filed under "T" or "C"--she went back to her computer screen to revisit the precious special orders.
After a wait in which I figured the Cloud had probably passed and all was now known, Amy glared in my direction.
"We don't have the book and we don't normally stock it but we can order it for you." Actually, she ran all this together so that it was more like "Wedon'thavethebookandwedon'tnormallystockitbutwecanorderitforyou." And she said this with a very clear tone that let me know ordering this book was the last thing she wanted me to do.
"I'll get it elsewhere, thanks."
"Ok." Back to the special order forms.
I don't ask that clerks in stores line my path with rose petals. They don't have to rush to my side to make sure my every need is met. But civility is expected, and kindness would not be out of line. Rudeness is my cue to take my business elsewhere. Perhaps Amy was an exception. Perhaps. But I have encountered rudeness at other Mardel stores, including the store at 71st and 169 in Tulsa, and the store on Powers in Colorado Springs. So my next guess is that floor personnel at Mardel stores are trained to be rude. Hey--all I have to go on is personal observation. My guess is as good as any.
So, unless there is a great reason for me to enter through the portal of a Mardel--and I can find books many other places (for instance, stores that actually stock a classic book)--I am done with them. Thanks Mart Green for your contribution to my alma mater. Your family's Hobby Lobby stores (founded and owned by your father) have some good deals on picture frames from time to time, so I will continue to shop there. But I am no longer interested in the rudeness your staff shows me on a consistent basis at your Mardel stores.
See ya.
"I" is now "i"
OK. I am willing to change.
Adam Palmer says "internet" should be lowercase, as is other media, such as "radio," "television," and "newspaper." He cites that esteemed grammatical resource, Wired magazine.
So, from now on, it is "internet."
There.
Are you happy now?
Adam Palmer says "internet" should be lowercase, as is other media, such as "radio," "television," and "newspaper." He cites that esteemed grammatical resource, Wired magazine.
So, from now on, it is "internet."
There.
Are you happy now?
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Graduation time!
Yesterday was commencement at Mid-America Christian University. Beautiful day for it. I went because, well, I have too. I am part of the administration there, so it is rather expected of me to show up. But I think I would have gone anyway had I known how fun it would be.
I lined up to march in at the end of the administrators and just in front of the faculty. (Next year I will get a cap and gown so I look more academic. The blue suit looked very "director of strategic marketing-ish," but a master's gown with my University of Oklahoma colors would be a lot more fun for commencement.) I turned to introduce myself to the gentleman behind me.
"Hi, I'm Jeff."
"I'm retarded. Retired. I mean, retired."
I knew right away I had found a friend. I never did catch his name. He must be north of 80 years old, but sharp as a knife. He grew up in Dayton, as did I. (We had a long march, from the administration building to the arena where the ceremony was held, so we got to talk a lot.) His memories include buildings and schools that are no longer in existence. He taught religion at MACU, and I'll bet he was a hoot to have as a professor.
"You know the best thing about these ceremonies?" he asked.
"What's that?"
"When the guy praying at the end says, 'Amen' and we all get to go home."
We got to our seats--second row; at least I am not a vice president and didn't have to sit on the stage--and he starts digging in in his pockets. Pulls out some candy that we shared throughout the next hour.
The speaker was Lesa Smaligo, an education lobbyist for the Oklahoma Legislature. Not a really big position. I mean, it is above a greeter at Wal-Mart, but not by much. But she was a great choice for commencement speaker--her speech was less than ten minutes long.
"Is that it?" asked my elderly friend. "Is she finished?"
"Looks like it," I said. "She's sitting down."
"I like her! She can speak again next year if she keeps it short like that."
Then came the graduates. Happy and smiling. I don't yet know many of the students--I only knew one graduate by name--but they were a good-looking group. One kid did a somersault onto the stage, got up, wrapped the president in a bear hug then waved his diploma wildly as he walked off. I thought he should have got a bigger ovation than he did. Most just smiled, shook hands with those on stage, and walked off. I think there should have been more gymnastics, maybe some dancing. But then again, I want clowns and dancing at my funeral, so what do I know?
As we filed out, my new friend seemed to have had a good time.
"That was shorter than last year. Good, good."
I hope to sit with him again next year. Maybe I will bring the candy...
I lined up to march in at the end of the administrators and just in front of the faculty. (Next year I will get a cap and gown so I look more academic. The blue suit looked very "director of strategic marketing-ish," but a master's gown with my University of Oklahoma colors would be a lot more fun for commencement.) I turned to introduce myself to the gentleman behind me.
"Hi, I'm Jeff."
"I'm retarded. Retired. I mean, retired."
I knew right away I had found a friend. I never did catch his name. He must be north of 80 years old, but sharp as a knife. He grew up in Dayton, as did I. (We had a long march, from the administration building to the arena where the ceremony was held, so we got to talk a lot.) His memories include buildings and schools that are no longer in existence. He taught religion at MACU, and I'll bet he was a hoot to have as a professor.
"You know the best thing about these ceremonies?" he asked.
"What's that?"
"When the guy praying at the end says, 'Amen' and we all get to go home."
We got to our seats--second row; at least I am not a vice president and didn't have to sit on the stage--and he starts digging in in his pockets. Pulls out some candy that we shared throughout the next hour.
The speaker was Lesa Smaligo, an education lobbyist for the Oklahoma Legislature. Not a really big position. I mean, it is above a greeter at Wal-Mart, but not by much. But she was a great choice for commencement speaker--her speech was less than ten minutes long.
"Is that it?" asked my elderly friend. "Is she finished?"
"Looks like it," I said. "She's sitting down."
"I like her! She can speak again next year if she keeps it short like that."
Then came the graduates. Happy and smiling. I don't yet know many of the students--I only knew one graduate by name--but they were a good-looking group. One kid did a somersault onto the stage, got up, wrapped the president in a bear hug then waved his diploma wildly as he walked off. I thought he should have got a bigger ovation than he did. Most just smiled, shook hands with those on stage, and walked off. I think there should have been more gymnastics, maybe some dancing. But then again, I want clowns and dancing at my funeral, so what do I know?
As we filed out, my new friend seemed to have had a good time.
"That was shorter than last year. Good, good."
I hope to sit with him again next year. Maybe I will bring the candy...
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
OK Rock and Roll
Here is just another reason Oklahoma is so cool: We are going to have an official state rock and roll song.
How cool is that? There is only one other state with an official rock song--my birth state, Ohio. The McCoys' Hang On Sloopy is heard at every Ohio State football game, played loud and proud--especially when we are kicking Michigan's butt up between their ear holes. Of course, Ohio also has the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, the place where Alan Freed coined the phrase "rock and roll" in the 50s. So Ohio is definitely a rockin' state.
And soon, my adopted home state of Oklahoma will join Ohio when we name our official state rock song after voting ends on November 15. Oklahoma already has an official state song ("Oklahoma"), folk song ("Oklahoma Hills"), country and western song ("Faded Love"), and waltz ("Oklahoma Wind"). But we NEED a rock and roll number to make us complete! And you can help.
I need some ideas of what song to nominate. At first I thought it would be very hard to beat JJ Cale's Tulsa Time--and still do. But then I started thinking of all the other possibilities. How about Eric Clapton doing Take Me Back To Tulsa (I'm Too Young To Marry)? Or The Gap Band's You Dropped A Bomb On Me? (GAP comes from three street names in the Greenwood section of downtown Tulsa: Greenwood, Archer, Pine.) There is my favorite country song of all time, David Frizzel and Dottie West singing You're The Reason God Made Oklahoma. But it ain't really rock and roll now, is it?
What about Russell Bridges--better known as Leon Russell, the Master of Space and Time. You could create a whole catalog of his songs to nominate, but it would have to be topped with his version of Jumpin' Jack Flash/Youngblood from his Leon Live triple album set. Or why not just make that whole set our state's official album?
I am leaving off some of the newer bands, like Flaming Lips, Admiral Twin, Hanson, and the All American Rejects. Earn your way, fellas, then come see me.
There is Merle Haggard's Okie From Muskogee. That could certainly qualify. You can view the songs that have been nominated thus far and choose from those or come up with one of your own. Then go here and nominate it yourself, or share your song idea with me, and I will nominate it. Only restrictions are the artist must be from Oklahoma or the song be about Oklahoma.
You would think other states would also want their own rock song. Colorado has Rocky Mountain High, but you are on some kind of high if you think John Denver was a rock singer. North Carolina--those cretins who think the airplane was invented in their backward state--have unofficially adopted In My Mind I'm Going To Carolina, but not officially. And you would think that Nebraska would make The Boss's Nebraska their state song. It's a lovely little ditty about how 19 year old Charles Starkweather and 14 year old Caril Fugate went on a killing spree and knocked off 11 people. Who wouldn't want to sing that song at graduations and state fair openings?
So fire off those comments. Tell me what great rock song really says OKLAHOMA IS OK!
Hey--we have an official state everything else. Our state vegetable is the watermelon. Go figure...
How cool is that? There is only one other state with an official rock song--my birth state, Ohio. The McCoys' Hang On Sloopy is heard at every Ohio State football game, played loud and proud--especially when we are kicking Michigan's butt up between their ear holes. Of course, Ohio also has the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, the place where Alan Freed coined the phrase "rock and roll" in the 50s. So Ohio is definitely a rockin' state.
And soon, my adopted home state of Oklahoma will join Ohio when we name our official state rock song after voting ends on November 15. Oklahoma already has an official state song ("Oklahoma"), folk song ("Oklahoma Hills"), country and western song ("Faded Love"), and waltz ("Oklahoma Wind"). But we NEED a rock and roll number to make us complete! And you can help.
I need some ideas of what song to nominate. At first I thought it would be very hard to beat JJ Cale's Tulsa Time--and still do. But then I started thinking of all the other possibilities. How about Eric Clapton doing Take Me Back To Tulsa (I'm Too Young To Marry)? Or The Gap Band's You Dropped A Bomb On Me? (GAP comes from three street names in the Greenwood section of downtown Tulsa: Greenwood, Archer, Pine.) There is my favorite country song of all time, David Frizzel and Dottie West singing You're The Reason God Made Oklahoma. But it ain't really rock and roll now, is it?
What about Russell Bridges--better known as Leon Russell, the Master of Space and Time. You could create a whole catalog of his songs to nominate, but it would have to be topped with his version of Jumpin' Jack Flash/Youngblood from his Leon Live triple album set. Or why not just make that whole set our state's official album?
I am leaving off some of the newer bands, like Flaming Lips, Admiral Twin, Hanson, and the All American Rejects. Earn your way, fellas, then come see me.
There is Merle Haggard's Okie From Muskogee. That could certainly qualify. You can view the songs that have been nominated thus far and choose from those or come up with one of your own. Then go here and nominate it yourself, or share your song idea with me, and I will nominate it. Only restrictions are the artist must be from Oklahoma or the song be about Oklahoma.
You would think other states would also want their own rock song. Colorado has Rocky Mountain High, but you are on some kind of high if you think John Denver was a rock singer. North Carolina--those cretins who think the airplane was invented in their backward state--have unofficially adopted In My Mind I'm Going To Carolina, but not officially. And you would think that Nebraska would make The Boss's Nebraska their state song. It's a lovely little ditty about how 19 year old Charles Starkweather and 14 year old Caril Fugate went on a killing spree and knocked off 11 people. Who wouldn't want to sing that song at graduations and state fair openings?
So fire off those comments. Tell me what great rock song really says OKLAHOMA IS OK!
Hey--we have an official state everything else. Our state vegetable is the watermelon. Go figure...
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Springtime for ... Tulsa
It has been a rough stretch of road weather-wise in Paradise for the past few months. An ice storm in December shut the city down for a week, destroyed trees throughout the northeast part of the state, and caused an estimated $150 million in damage. We still have broken limbs hanging from our four Ponderosa pines that I can't get to, and don't have the $800+ to hire someone to come clean them up.
We had a day in February when it hit 81 degrees, and a stretch in late March where it didn't get out of the 20s. In the past couple of weeks we had a hail of a storm, with flying chunks of ice larger than golf balls pounding away up and down our street. Both of our cars are more than likely totaled, and I am sure I will need a new roof. And with the hail came inches of rain that have left parts of Green Country underwater.
So with temps in the low 80s both days this weekend, and no rain, snow, ice or hail, Tulsa got out of the house and headed to ... LaFortune Park. At least it seemed that most everyone in Tulsa was there tonight.
I am making it a habit to go walk on the three mile trail around LaFortune on Sunday afternoons, followed by an hour or so in the prayer room at Believers Church. It's a great way to conclude the week and get the next started right. Normally I don't have to search for a parking spot late on Sunday. Today, however, was the most crowded I have ever seen the park.
Walking through the playground and picnic part of the park was like walking through the Woodland Hills Mall the day after Thanksgiving. There were birthday parties and picnics going on in every square inch of space. White, black, Hispanic, Asian all mingled under the budding trees. Kids waiting in line for slides. Small-scale soccer games were going on. (I made a nifty save on a ball kicked into my path. Nice return kick, if I say so myself...)
After I waded through this throng and was past the play area, the crowd thinned out a bit. But it was still crowded around the track. Runners, walkers, people walking their dogs, dogs walking their people. Many--like me--had white earbuds trailing from their ears. (I was listening to a mix that included Neil Young, Eric Clapton, Johnny Cash and the Doobies among others.) Usually when I pass another runner/walker on the trail I will nod a greeting. After all, this is Tulsa. It is almost a crime not to greet someone with a friendly Howdy or head nod. But to do this today would have made me look like a bobblehead doll.
Anyway, it was great to experience a great spring day with others, even if the only things we share in common are gladness that this winter is finally over, and a sore neck from all that nodding.
We had a day in February when it hit 81 degrees, and a stretch in late March where it didn't get out of the 20s. In the past couple of weeks we had a hail of a storm, with flying chunks of ice larger than golf balls pounding away up and down our street. Both of our cars are more than likely totaled, and I am sure I will need a new roof. And with the hail came inches of rain that have left parts of Green Country underwater.
So with temps in the low 80s both days this weekend, and no rain, snow, ice or hail, Tulsa got out of the house and headed to ... LaFortune Park. At least it seemed that most everyone in Tulsa was there tonight.
I am making it a habit to go walk on the three mile trail around LaFortune on Sunday afternoons, followed by an hour or so in the prayer room at Believers Church. It's a great way to conclude the week and get the next started right. Normally I don't have to search for a parking spot late on Sunday. Today, however, was the most crowded I have ever seen the park.
Walking through the playground and picnic part of the park was like walking through the Woodland Hills Mall the day after Thanksgiving. There were birthday parties and picnics going on in every square inch of space. White, black, Hispanic, Asian all mingled under the budding trees. Kids waiting in line for slides. Small-scale soccer games were going on. (I made a nifty save on a ball kicked into my path. Nice return kick, if I say so myself...)
After I waded through this throng and was past the play area, the crowd thinned out a bit. But it was still crowded around the track. Runners, walkers, people walking their dogs, dogs walking their people. Many--like me--had white earbuds trailing from their ears. (I was listening to a mix that included Neil Young, Eric Clapton, Johnny Cash and the Doobies among others.) Usually when I pass another runner/walker on the trail I will nod a greeting. After all, this is Tulsa. It is almost a crime not to greet someone with a friendly Howdy or head nod. But to do this today would have made me look like a bobblehead doll.
Anyway, it was great to experience a great spring day with others, even if the only things we share in common are gladness that this winter is finally over, and a sore neck from all that nodding.
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