There are no lessons

After a tragedy like what we experienced at Ft. Hood last week, our immediate instinct is to explain why it happened, even before we know exactly what happened. We learned the alleged gunman's name was Arabic, and immediately the hue and cry was predictable. "Well, there you go. He's a terrorist on a jihad against the United States". What a crock. We don't know that at all. In fact, we don't know anything yet. Talking heads are speculating based solely on tidbits of innuendo and rumor, but all we're sure of today is that soldiers are dead and wounded, attacked on a sprawling military base, seemingly by one of their own. As for the rest of it, only time will tell. Eventually, we hope we'll get answers as to what happened, but we might never know why. Even if we do, the why won't guarantee there won't be another tragedy somewhere else.

Much as we'd like them to, these shootings tend not to translate into a helpful moral. There isn't a bigger meaning beyond the obvious: someone was ill, deranged or seeking to exorcise their own personal demons, they gained access to deadly weapons (usually guns - we'll have the gun debate another time) and innocent victims paid the price for being in the wrong place at the wrong moment on the wrong day. There's your lesson, from massacres at Luby's cafeteria in Killeen, Texas (nearby Ft. Hood) in 1991, on the Long Island Railroad in 1993, at Columbine High School in 1999, to a series of massacres at other schools and workplaces. There was a shooting in Orlando the day after Ft. Hood, and that appears to have been carried out by a man who had been laid off years ago and maintained a grudge against his ex-employer. Tomorrow night, the state of Virginia will execute John Allen Muhammad for masterminding the DC Sniper shootings which killed 10 people and critically injured three more in October of 2002. All of these shootings led to tears, funerals and recriminations, but not one led to bigger lessons, except "don't kill people". The shooter's age, color and faith didn't lead to answers, and didn't prevent subsequent tragedies from happening.

The shooter at Ft. Hood was a Muslim, but our worst domestic terrorists weren't. Timothy McVeigh (Oklahoma City) and Ted Kaczynski (the Unabomber) weren't Muslim. They were just angry. Eric Rudolph planted the bomb that killed a woman at the Atlanta Olympics. He wasn't Muslim, either. We jump to irrational, hateful conclusions in the absence of facts because it's comfortable to have a reason for the unexplainable. Even if religion played a role, so what? There are millions upon millions of peaceful, law-abiding men and women of the Muslim faith who shouldn't be painted with the same brush as this one man, just because he reads the Koran. Being in the Army played a role too, didn't it? Let's indict the entire Department of Defense for his crime. That's equally helpful.

There's a frustrating pattern developing of looking for arguments to create divisions. Elections, health care debates, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and countless other wedge points have been seized on by the fringes (can you say Tea Party?) . In New York's 23rd Congressional District, a Democrat was elected to a seat in Congress that he frankly had no business winning. It's a solidly Republican district, not represented by a Democrat in a hundred years. Congressman-elect Bill Owens was the recipient of a bizarre gift. The GOP was happier to oust a moderate Republican (DeeDee Scozzafava) in favor of an ultraconservative candidate (Doug Hoffman) who proved to be unelectable. What is instructive to note is who backed Hoffman while he crashed and burned what should have been a slam dunk win: Rush Limbaugh, Michelle Malkin, Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin. In NY23, loyalty and litmus tests took precedence over sensibility and pragmatism. In other words, fear and paranoia became the priority over creating consensus and comity. Listening to Birthers, Tenthers and Tea Party nuts won't further the conversation, it will just make your ears hurt.

The mass murderer doesn't teach us many lessons, except not to be a mass murderer. Every time, the attacker is irrational and prefers to create chaos. It's The Dark Knight's Joker. In the end, all they want is to watch the world burn. Likewise, pointing to the fringe and learning anything valuable from it is a waste of time. They're not interested in progress. Don't look for reason where it doesn't exist. Sometimes all you can do is mourn.

In this Celebrity Society

My friend Marc Bridge released his album "American dReam" at the same time as Perry's Sweet Ride. I said at the time that I loved and admired Marc's music. A few songs of his are particularly brilliant. One of them precisely speaks to an issue that perpetually drives me nucking futs. The song is called Celebrity Society. With Marc's permission, I'd like to quote his lyrics:

__________________________________________________

Brittney’s hair, or poor Anna Nicole Smith's drama gets more headlines than Darfur
A crooked chef spends a few months in striped pajamas Now her net worth only soars!
A President, or Governor of California How much higher can you get
from “Pumping Iron” or acting with a chimp named Bonzo who’d have thought to make that bet?
American Idols get more votes than politicians
Now that’s such a telling sign
Instead of lying, get on TV and belt a tune out and watch the voters stand in line

_______________________________________________
Marc's got it exactly right. Nothing personifies this societal madness more than the saga of Jon and Kate Gosselin, a completely dysfunctional couple with entirely too many children. That went well. They're divorced, and it seems nothing in the press is mentioned about what's going to happen to the innocent children. Or how about Michael Jackson: the sad, strange pedophile who became a parody of himself while trying to resurrect his performing career, only to die of a drug overdose that he ordered his doctor to administer. The fact that the doctor was so cowed by Jackson's celebrity that he completely ignored his own sense of professional ethics speaks volumes. Then there's the Octomom (I love the line from a friend of mine: "it's a vagina, not a clown car"). Or Balloon Boy and his pitifully desperate parents, concocting a publicity stunt to score a new reality series.

Here's my point: those stories are fluff. They're not the news. Eating parsely and ignoring the actual entree leads to malnutrition. I know the goings on in the House and Senate on Health Care Reform aren't sexy, and in fact they can be opaque and boring as hell, but they're going to affect every single one of us. Same with negotiations on new climate treaties (did you know the Kyoto Protocols are going to expire and NOTHING is taking their place for now? That means the US, China, and every other damn country in the world can pollute the air to their greedy hearts' content and nothing would stop them. Doesn't that bother you?).

I never got the worry endlessly about worthless shit like who Jennifer Aniston is dating now that she's been dumped by.....gene. And I have to admit I don't care who Lindsay Lohan is flashing or what reality star just landed in jail again or even whether American Idol's voting is rigged or whether Ellen Degeneres is going to be a good judge for the next competition. I also don't understand why people who DO care about that stuff can't name their own governor or even one member of the US Supreme Court. I'm concerned about whether the state of Maine will limit the rights of its citizens to marry. I'm concerned that Massachusetts is in such a horrible financial hole that human services programs like homeless shelters, child care and gang prevention programs are being slashed. The country's infrastructure is rotting out from the inside, people are STILL losing jobs, and CNN's doing a story on Chaz (formerly Chastity) Bono's recent sex change, and how he loves being a man. How nice for you. Now go away.

Honestly, there are important things going on in the world. Check 'em out!

I get by with a little help from my friends (with tentacles)

"Are we going to be friends forever?" asked Piglet. "Even longer," Pooh answered. ~A.A. Milne

It's been difficult recently. I've had interviews, but no job offers. Finances are, shall we say, challenging, and showing no sign of easing up any day soon. Maintaining a good attitude in the face of emails and phone calls not returned gets harder and harder with each succeeding day. Some days I feel a little stabby, and other days I feel like I'm underwater. We'll get back to that theme in a minute. I keep networking like a madman, but so far, there's not much to show for it. I'm not comforted by the statistic going around that there are six job seekers for every open position in the US. That just tells me there are that many more people like me out there, feeling what I'm feeling.

You know what is comforting? They don't have my wife and my friends. I could go on and on about how wonderful P has been, about how hard she's worked to compensate and how supportive she's been from June 2 onward (and the almost 10 preceding years). I have been and continue to be the luckiest guy I know.

And I have the greatest friends. Through social networking, I've reconnected with old pals from grade school through college, old colleagues and buddies, as well as meeting dozens of amazing, smart, funny, cool people from all over. It's heartwarming to reach back to fraternity brothers and high school classmates who are now spread from Australia to Europe to here in Maynard. The new support system has overlap to the working world, and some of the recent new contacts also carry business potential down the road. The network has great tentacles (though I admit that's not the greatest visual and none of the aforementioned people actually have actual tentacles, at least none that they've been comfortable enough to show me, and maybe they have pod issues, which I can understand, tentacles being a decidedly unhuman characteristic, but hey, who am I to sit in judgment of mutants or maybe they prefer "tentacly enhanced persons", who any day will have their own support group and episode on Oprah). Wow, that was an insanely long sentence with the stream of consciousness thrown in there. I'll try not to do it again, sorry.

I honestly don't enjoy networking purely for business (especially if the people have hidden tentacles or other aquatic appendages), but when part of the deal involves making new friends, I look forward to it. As long as, well, you know.

I've found wonderful new blogs, resources, and creative outlets. It's actually helped me keep focused on the important stuff. I'm still hoping that sometime soon, *something* pans out that results in a serious job offer, preferably not one involving sea creatures.

In the meantime, widening my web of people to turn to, vent with and bounce "whaddya think about calling these folks" ideas off, not only enhances the possibilities of the right opportunity clicking into place, but also nourishes an ocean of connections. You know what I'm getting at there, right? There's an old saying that many people will walk in and out of your life but friends will leave footprints in your soul. Others, of course, will drag long, slimy arms down the beach. I try to avoid that group. They're always problematic at dinner parties. I also know that life is too short to not embrace the ones who have the grace to let you know that you've had an effect on their lives as well. As long as they smell ok.

I recently saw the quote at the top of this post, and it reminded me of high school, when I made my oldest, deepest and in many ways truest friendships, invariably with some of the most profoundly silly people I've ever known. Forever's a long time, especially when you start sliding closer to 50 than 20. The biggest difference between high school and now is that way back then I looked like Piglet, and now I look a whole lot more like Pooh. No matter, my friends, old and new, have hung in there with me. Friends laugh at your jokes (even the bad ones, and the ones involving sea creatures). Friends hang in and continue to engage, cheer you on and commiserate on the days that just plain suck. In short, friends rock. No punch line, just "friends rock". Period.

To everyone for whom this applies, thanks. Thanks to all those below, plus those who either didn't have easily grabbable avatars or I forgot or I just gave up hunting because I was abnormally fixated on an old Jacques Cousteau episode from the mid 1970's. I am more appreciative than I can tell you. (bet you're now rethinking your plan to have squid or octopus for dinner tonight, aren't you?)

Chatting with a polar ice cap for Blog Action Day 2009

Today is Blog Action Day 2009. The aim behind the initiative is simple: bloggers all over the world formulate posts on climate change. That's what that blue sticker with the earth logo at the top of the blog is all about. I decided that for Blog Action Day 2009, since there's so much talk about the effect of climate change on polar ice caps, I'd interview a polar ice cap. Without further ado, here's the conversation:

BLAHBLAHGINGER: Hell0, and thanks for speaking with us.

POLAR ICE CAP: Hey dude! It's, like, so totally great to talk to you. Are you warm enough?

BBG: Yes, thanks. First off, what would you like to be called?

PIC: Oh hey, my friends call me Big White Mass, cuz I'm like so totally white and big, and I'm so totally massive, but you can call me Massive. I love that, man. Massive. Though I'm not so massive these days. Been losing parts of myself.

BBG: Ok, Massive, tell me about losing parts of yourself. How does that happen?

PIC: Hey dude, haven't you been paying attention? You people have been messin' with stuff, and the temperatures have gone up, and I'm like that green witch in the Wizard of Oz with the nasty nose. I'm melting! Melting! I'm melting! Oh, what a world. I love that scene, though it's not so funny now that it's happening to me. Actually, dude, it totally sucks. I'm so way smaller than I was just a couple years ago, and did I mention it sucks?

BBG: Yes, you did say that.

PIC: It does, dude. I do stuff, you know. I'm sorta like a big, flat air conditioner for the whole planet, and when I don't do my job, man, stuff heats up everywhere. Hey, where do you live?

BBG: The United States.

PIC: Yeah dude, I got that from your accent. I mean WHERE in the United States? Like, New York, or LA or Texas?

BBG: Massachusetts, not far from Boston.

PIC: Boston. Boston. Oh yeah, that's near the ocean, right? The airport's right there on the water? And you've got all those cool lighthouses right there, don't you?

BBG: Yes, exactly. Boston is the biggest city in New England, and it faces the Atlantic Ocean.

PIC: Oh dude, you gotta move. In another century, maybe even less, there won't be a Boston. That'll be totally underwater, dude. The more of me I lose, the more water melts into the oceans, the more the oceans are gonna rise. And Boston, New York, hey, everything on the coast, dude, it's all going to be underwater. I hope you can swim real well, cuz you're gonna be very wet. I think you should move.

BBG: Where to?

PIC: Well, don't go to LA, dude. that'll be worse. Denver's good. That's a mile up, right? I think you'll be safe there.

BBG: Ok, that's a little distressing. Any other advice?

PIC: Yeah, dude, you gotta stop burning all that oil. It's sending nasty junk into the atmosphere, and that's what's hurting me the most. They got hybrid cars now, right? You ever thought of buying one of those?

BBG: Funny you mention that. Yes, I'm looking at buying a new hybrid car. My neighbor just did.

PIC: Smart neighbor, man. Totally do that. The fewer emissions you throw into the air, the more of me there's gonna be. And you'll use less gas, and hey, doesn't that mean you get to keep more of those little green pieces of paper you guys like so much? I don't know what's so special about little green pieces of paper, but I know it's a big deal of all of you. So maybe you should think about that. Cuz I like being here, and I want to stay. As it is, I've lost so much of my area, that I'm not really so massive anymore, and that's bumming me out. Giving me an identity complex, you might say. Hey, I just made that up!

BBG: Right. So hybrid car is on the list. Anything else?

PIC: Yeah dude, you can do pretty simple stuff to make a big difference. Use those squiggly little lightbulbs instead of the big fat ones.

BBG: Compact fluorescent bulbs?

PIC: Is that what you call them? Yeah. They last longer, use less energy, and hey, you can save more of those little green pieces of paper I talked about. You like that, right?

BBG: Yes, we like the little green pieces of paper.

PIC: Yeah, I thought you did. Hey dude, I gotta go. I have a big polar bear convention coming. I love those guys. Big, white, furry, and they're really funny, you know? Hey, wanna stay and meet them? They'd like you a lot.

BBG: No no, that's ok. Thanks so much for talking with us today.

PIC: No problem dude, and remember what I said. Use less oil, save those green pieces of paper, and so you won't have to move to Denver.

BBG: Actually, I like Denver. It's a very nice city.

PIC: You won't like it so much when 200 million people are trying to cram in there because their homes all over the rest of the country have been flooded out.

BBG: Good point.

PIC: Yeah, dude, I thought you'd see it my way.

MORE RESOURCES CAN BE FOUND HERE:
http://www.nrdc.org/globalwarming/qthinice.asp
http://buzz.blogger.com/2009/10/blog-action-day-2009.html

SIDS

I was diagnosed almost nine years ago with obstructive sleep apnea (OSA). When I was going through the diagnostic process, my doctor, who was (and still is) deeply involved with sleep research, said something startling that has stayed with me to this day. The two primary disciplines of sleep research are neurology and pulmonology, and while trying to get to the bottom of how breathing and the brain intersect during sleep in adults, there's a developing hunch in the community that a relationship might exist between sleep apnea and SIDS.

That's right, SIDS. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, which could be the four most terrifying words for any family member. Far more depressing than "We're out of Oreos", more appalling than "Here, meet Dick Cheney", and more chilling than "This subpeona's for you". SIDS is a sobering reminder that in spite of all the great advances, there are still persistent, baffling mysteries where even the best medical minds can only only shrug their shoulders and say "sorry, we just don't know" (that's five words...I'm not good at math but I can count). Perfectly healthy, adorable children are suddenly gone. No warning, no clues, no nothing. I was aware that SIDS existed, but I never knew anyone who had been struck by this utterly random, cosmic sucker punch that continues to hurt for the rest of your life.

Not long after joining Twitter, I encountered Loralee Choate. She's an outrageously funny, totally out there, WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get) lapsed Mormon blogger from Ogden, Utah. Gotta love social media. How else would a liberal Jewish Red Sox fan from Boston encounter someone like this without leaving home? While wandering through her blog archives, I read a post that, well, I can't describe it. Here, read. She and her husband Jonathan lost their son Matthew in 2003 to SIDS. Her post about Matthew's death was raw, honest, heartbreaking, and one of the bravest pieces of writing I have ever encountered by anyone, anywhere. It takes something for me to say I admire another writer. I admire the hell out of Loralee.

The truth is, in spite of what Dr. Thomas told me, doctors don't really KNOW a goddamn thing about what causes SIDS. They suspect all kinds of causes, but nothing has panned out as even approaching provable. There are maybes, and we-thinks, and some-people-are-saying. It could be that sleep apneacs are adult survivors of whatever cruelly takes innocent souls from the earth far too young. There is a certain amount of sense in that, since sleep apnea can't be diagnosed post-mortem, and when a baby's breathing lessens during sleep, their little brains aren't sufficiently developed to wake them up to get more oxygen in their system. Maybe that's not it, though. It could be a virus. Hell, it could be the bogeyman under the bed for all they can prove. Nobody freakin' knows. They need to find out, since every year SIDS still kills 2,500 US kids betweeen 1 and 12 months of age. Twenty-five hundred. That's almost 7 babies every single day, or one every few hours. Gone. Untold numbers of grieving parents, grandparents, siblings and friends are left behind.

Everybody knows October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and I'm all for that. Hell, dad's an oncologist. I'd better be for it. Fighting breast cancer is important, but October is also SIDS Awareness Month, and with all due respect, a ton of money is being raised for and spent on breast cancer. People tend to notice when the conversation starts with "breast". I get that. Breast. See? To a large extent, though, we're getting a pretty good handle on what causes breast cancer, and thanks to radiation, surgery and tamoxifen, it can be attacked. It's not entirely curable yet but oncologists like my dad have made enormous strides in the past two generations. Thanks for that, dad. (and that will be the last time I type breast in this post, so any 12 year old boys reading this can calm down now)

That said, we don't know shit about SIDS, and that's not acceptable. If posting this can prevent just one family from losing one adorable kidlet, then it was well worth it.

The following is courtesy of the Women's Tribune:

While it’s true that any baby of any race, medical background and class can be affected by SIDS, there are some steps parents can take to reduce their baby’s risk.

• Place your baby on their back to sleep at night and naptime.
• Use a firm mattress, covered with only a sheet, in a safety-approved crib.
• Remove all soft and loose bedding from your baby’s sleep area, including pillows, blankets, comforters, bumper pads, sheepskins, positioners, toys and all other soft objects.
• Consider using a Halo SleepSack, a wearable blanket, or other type of sleeper as a safe alternative to loose blankets.
• Do not place your baby to sleep on a sofa, waterbed, pillow, soft mattress or any other soft surface.
• Keep your baby’s face clear of coverings.
• Be careful not to overheat your baby with excessive clothing, bedding or room temperature.
• Do not smoke or allow anyone else to smoke around your baby.
• Educate babysitters, day care providers, grandparents and anyone else who cares for your baby about reducing the risk of infant death.

Perry's tunes and videos, for your viewing, buying and downloading pleasure!

I've written about the amazingness of Perry's CD Release concert last month. Now, you can see the highlights for yourself, as well as get your own copy of "Sweet Ride" and even download the tracks! Then you can have more than just a picture of the album cover. You get the whole deal.

First the video clips.
Perry has her own channel on YouTube, which you can access here. But I'm a nice guy, and I'll give you the direct links. You're welcome.

"Sweet Ride" was the first song in her set, and set the tone. See it here.

One Way Out, which many people know from the Allman Brothers, though it's attributed to Sonny Boy Williamson, was given a scorching"low and slow" treatment here.

Perry's 9/11 tribute song "Never Forget", which was written after the album, and was first performed on New England Cable News network, became a stirring sing-along. See it here. The only other recording of the song is from her NECN performance on 9/11/2009, and you can see that here. That performance is notable not only because it was the song's debut, but also because live video shots of the 9/11 remembrances taking place that day were interspersed with Perry's performance. Very powerful.

The last song in the show (before the encore) was Perry's answer to critics who say that too many of her compositions are depressing. Appropriately, it's called The Happy Song, and included a kazoo chorus! Watch the merriment here.

Perry and I both think the encore was the best of all. It's hard to go wrong with John Prine's classic Angel From Montgomery, and Perry's performed it lots of times before, but it's never had the room-encompassing energy it had here. Everyone who had been part of the concert during the afternoon returned, and, well, you can see that it was a special moment.

So I hear you saying you want a copy of the album. Or what's that? You want to download the tracks, too? No problem!

• You can contact Perry directly at emailperrydd@yahoo.com to tell her how incredibly wonderful and talented she is, or to book her for concert appearances.
• You can buy the actual cd or download all the tracks through CD Baby by clicking here. I always want the physical CD, but that's just me. I'm old school that way.
• You can download individual tracks by clicking here.
• Important note: Lose Again and One Way Out are not available as separate digital downloads, but only as part of a complete album purchase or download on CD Baby, so I think you really owe it to yourself to get the whole shebang. Trust me, it's so very worth it!

Perry Desmond-Davies, Sonic Bridge and the incredible, wonderful, spectacular performance.

The journey to producing Perry’s new album “Sweet Ride” was a long road, but boy howdy, was the end product worth it! The official unveiling was on Sunday, September 20 at the Amazing Things Arts Center in Framingham, MA. It was a perfect combination. Perry shared the stage with other extremely talented musicians who are also friends. Andrew Greene opened, and set the tone with an outstanding short set. Perry was a co-feature along with the remarkable, funny, talented and truly great singer-songwriter Marc “Sonic” Bridge. Marc’s new album, "American Dream" is a wonderful work, and showcases his humor and skill as well as his giving heart. Marc and I get along for so many reasons, not the least of which is that we’re both news and policy animals with the same basic outlook on the world. A number of the songs he performed from the CD were wry, often acerbic takes on big, hot-button issues such as in “Same Sex Marriage” and “The Wall of Shame”. Marc also did my personal favorite, which is “Doggie Style”, his hysterical commentary on the trend of designer dog breeds. There was so much more: tender love songs, a quirky Irish jig-style ballad and others that defy description. Just buy his CD. He’s an insanely talented songwriter, and you can say you got in on the Sonic Bridge craze before he was a household term. Marc nailed his set. If the concert had ended when Marc was done, the $12 admission would have been a screaming bargain right there. Family and friends who had come to see Perry but might not have known about Marc suddenly decided that perhaps they should buy his CD’s too. He was that good.

Singing backup on the CD, and doing her harmony thing for both Marc and Perry was Kim Jennings. It’s hard to describe Kim without sounding like a cross between a paid shill (which I’m not) and a demented stalker (which I’m also not – yet). Kim has one of those voices that, like Perry’s, can’t be taught. It just is. It’s ethereal, lyrical, breathy, emotional and flat out beautiful. Oh, by the way, Kim’s a traffic-stopping singer songwriter in her own right and her album’s due out in the winter. I suggest getting in line for it now. In fact, bookmark this site now so you’ll be prepared. And reserve December 4. That’s Kim’s CD release gig, which will also be held at Amazing Things. This concert’s going to sell out, so don’t say you weren’t warned.

Backing up the headliners was the Humming Lake Studio Band. The leader of the band, as well as the producer for both Perry’s and Marc’s album, is Seth Connelly. I could spend a whole new post trying to detail how phenomenal Seth is, but I’d still fail miserably. Not only can he play every instrument known to man, and not only can he transpose into any key on the fly as effortlessly as breathing, but he’s also a master engineer, and maybe one of the nicest human beings on the face of the earth. You think that's hyperbole? Honest, it's not. Ask anyone who knows Seth. Supporting Seth, Marc and Perry were Peter Tillotson on bass and Don Croad on drums.

So Marc hit a home run. Then Perry took the stage, and as they say in the music biz, she burnt the whole house down. From her very first song, the title track to the CD, she had the audience in the palm of her hand. Since I’m a sports nut, the only analogy that fits is when you see a great baseball pitcher in dominating form. In the first inning, you say “Uh oh. This one’s going to be special”. And it was. Like a hall of fame pitcher, she got better as the set went on. There were two killer blues tunes: her scorching cover of “One Way Out” (made famous by the Allman Brothers), and “One Hot Mama”, a tribute song she wrote for Ellen Schmidt, who’s the godmother of the local acoustic community.

A few people may have seen Perry’s 9/11 tribute song “Never Forget” (Here's the link to the NECN TV performance), but Perry took it to a whole new level in concert. That was one of her highlights on Sunday. Another was her performance of “Hey Dad”, which is a tribute song to her late father. “Hey Dad” isn’t a new tune. It’s one of the first songs of hers I heard when we met in 1999. This time, though, there was an extra verse, written for the occasion and performed by her brother David, who had flown in from Georgia. David said “I asked dad, and he said it was ok”. The song with David’s added verse choked up everyone who hadn’t already started blubbering during the 9/11 tribute. But we weren’t done yet. The last two selections of the day might have been the best of all. David’s son David and I (yes, that’s THREE Davids in the family, plus two Steve’s, and oh, never mind) handed out kazoos for the audience to help out with one of Perry’s most requested tunes “The Happy Song”. That helped dry all the tears from Hey Dad and made everyone giggle, along with singing and kazooing along (don’t bother telling me that kazooing isn’t a word. It is, too. Kazooing kazooing kazooing. There. I win).

The final tune was the encore, the John Prine classic sing-along “Angel From Montgomery”, which has long been a staple in Perry’s repertoire. Perry had everyone join her onstage, meaning everyone who had contributed throughout the day. Not the audience. That would have been silly. There were perhaps three, or maybe four additional choruses. Nobody wanted the day to end. We were all having far too much fun to return to the real world.

______________________________________________________

As much as I'd love to boast that Sunday afternoon's show was the greatest performance in the history of Amazing Things Arts Center, there are tremendous shows happening there all the time. Music, art, all manner of memorable work. Amazing Things is a community supported center for the arts. Please support your arts community, large and small, wherever you live. You never know where the next Perry, Marc, Kim or Andrew will come from. Perhaps they're appearing around the corner from you tonight!

Andrew Greene

http://www.myspace.com/Andrewcgreene

Marc Bridge

http://www.sonicbridgemusic.com

Kim Jennings
http://www.kimjenningsmusic.com

Perry Desmond-Davies

http://www.perrydesmond-davies.com

Seth Connelly

http://www.sethconnelly.com/

Amazing Things Arts Center
http://www.amazingthings.org