The Oppenheimer Report 5/30/11

There was a big discussion at the dinner table the other night about funeral expenses. Weddings and funerals are serious money drains. Last summer we buried my aunt and the unveiling will be coming up this summer. It’s now time to order her inscription, which will appear under her husband’s. Apparently, there is a vast difference in the cost of engraving work from one engraver to another, and one place that had quoted on the inscription work several months ago suddenly raised their prices. Instead of six bucks per letter, the cost would now be seven bucks, and this seemed like a big bump to us. In this economy, at a time when people are scrambling to find work, it didn’t seem logical that an inscriber should be raise his prices, certainly not by 15%. It’s not as if his prices are tied to the price of gold. Another engraver was offering the work for six bucks per word, with a $900 ceiling. Does this mean I could get the Gettysburg Address engraved on my stone for $900? I guess the letters would have to be pretty small. In keeping with the general absurdity of some of our dinner conversations, this engraving subject rapidly deteriorated into a discussion of the various pecuniary considerations in gravestone engraving. Does a comma cost as much as a semi colon? Shouldn’t a period be less than a question mark? How about apostrophes, is there some kind of a two for one deal? September is the most expensive month in which to die; it’s much more considerate to croak in May. And think about all the people with hyphenated last names. When you combine a hyphenated last name like Abramowitz-Oppenheimer and two Septembers and you start to talk about some serious coin. I think given this seemingly capricious escalation in the cost of engraving, I might go for decals. Whose going to complain, the neighbors?




To continue on this thread, there are so many other funeral expenses; perpetual care for instance. Perhaps they should call it eternal care instead. Perpetual care is essentially an open ended landscaping contract wherein one pays an up front lump sum to the cemetery and thereafter the gravesite is to be maintained by the cemetery. In theory this makes sense, but “perpetual” basically means as long as anybody remembers that there is a contract. At our family plot in Buffalo, I went over one day and noticed that the graves were a mess, overrun with weeds and overgrown ivy. Some of the stones were not even visible. I dug up (sorry, bad choice of words) our perpetual care contract for the five or six family members in our burial plot. After several conversations with the cemetery, we straightened things out, but had I not complained, I am quite sure nothing would have been done. Cremation seems to be the a viable alternative to these landscaping issues. While we have a lovely family plot, which overlooks the serene beauty of the Scajaquada Expressway, my dad did not believe in taking up a lot of space, and he elected to be cremated. He’s in a crypt, or as he liked to call it, his home away from home. I remember he paid for it on time, and with his typical irreverence, he joked about the monthly no-interest payments. I also distinctly remember the day my sister and I were presented with his incinerated remains to be placed in the crypt. That little procedure fell under the heading of “internment fee,” and he was unceremoniously handed to us in a cardboard box. At first we were both a little surprised. I thought at the very least they would provide something a little more permanent, like a plastic milk jug with “Jim Oppenheimer” written on it ... something. If I’d have known, I would have brought a coffee can, but I guess the cardboard box was fine. Actually, that was the perfect container for my dad, because he was as unpretentious as they come. Besides, the remains are hidden behind a stone, and no one ever sees them. The only problem with the crypt is that sometimes your neighbors paste tacky photos to the wall, or worse yet, plastic flowers. I think Will and Kate Pez dispensers would be nice. When we do finally self destruct as a species, as I’m pretty sure we someday will, does it really matter whether Dad’s in a terra cotta urn from Pottery Barn or a cardboard box? A propos to nothing, did anybody you know disappear into heaven during the recent, and much anticipated Rapture? That would certainly preclude the burial concerns. I feel bad for all those folks who sold all their worldly possessions in anticipation of their one way ticket to heaven, only to be left shrugging on earth. I am reminded of that wonderful scene in the film “Little Big Man” wherein the Indian Chief declares “It is a good day to die,” and goes out into the woods to await his demise, only to be disappointed by his unwanted longevity.


For those of you who might perhaps be offended by this cavalier discussion about death, make no mistake, I take my mortality seriously. I’m just a lot more concerned about living my LIFE to the fullest. My heart goes out to all those poor souls who were plucked from the earth in that horrible Joplin tornado, and whose bodies have yet to be recovered. And I get that it’s about closure. Recover the body, say goodbye to the vehicle, but remember the soul. Frankly, out of all the Westerners, I think the Irish have the right idea. When I go, I want all the funeral money spent on a big party. Incinerate me after all the useable organs have been extracted (not the liver!), put me in a cardboard box, and stick me next to Dad. I think there’s room in there for me. What does it really matter if you are buried in a pyramid or a cardboard box. None of us really knows whether what follows is darkness or light, but does it really matter what you stick in the ground to advertise your existence?

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/23/11

Aftermath of Slave Lake Wildfire 

Last Monday I was in Toronto to hear the band Echo and the Bunnymen play at the Phoenix. While the Eighties did usher in a lot of silly pop bands, there was plenty of music from that era that I liked. When I think of pop music from the Eighties I am reminded of those ridiculous “Flock of Seagulls“ hairdos. One of my old friends from Buffalo once called the Eighties the decade of the Limey drum band. Anyhow, my pal Bob recently turned me on to this seminal Eighties rock band, and I wanted to see what the Bunny had to offer. Last Monday night I bit the bullet and rode over to the Phoenix to wait in line with all the other aging rock fans. After the concert was over, and I was riding my bike home in the pouring rain, I realized two things: 1.The Bunny rocked the house, and 2. I may finally be approaching the age where I am too old to BE in that house anymore. While I still prefer clubs to larger arena venues, this was a very loud and very crowded concert. After downing several beers and stuffing some Kleenex in my ears, I managed to channel with my inner 17 year-old, and I did enjoy the music. While I did and still do sometimes like my rock music loud, these days I’m a little more protective of my diminishing capacity to hear.



Mother Nature continues to make headline news throughout the world, with earthquakes in New Guinea, volcanic eruptions in Iceland, and floods in the Midwest. For many of us in the East, this has been the wettest spring on record. As if Canada has not had enough natural disasters in the past week, the Town of Slave Lake northeast of Edmonton, Alberta was under an evacuation order last week after out-of-control wildfires swept through the small community and virtually incinerated one third of the town. The fire took everyone by surprise when shifting winds of over 100 kilometers per hour turned an already dangerous wildfire into a rogue blast furnace. Miraculously, all the approximately 7000 residents escaped with their lives. Another community was not so lucky. Last night, we were watching CNN when breaking news flashed across the screen about the monster tornado that had just barreled through Joplin, Missouri. Already there are 89 reported fatalities and a third of that city was wiped off the map. The winds in that Joplin tornado, which reportedly measured close to three quarters of a mile wide, approached 200 mph. This has been the eighth deadliest season for tornadoes in North America, and that is even with the sophisticated early warning systems that are now available.

And what is with the European power elite? IMF managing director Dominique Strauss-Kahn is in hot water after accusations he raped a chambermaid in his posh Sofitel Hotel suite in Manhattan. When I heard the story on the news the next day it sounded almost comical, with reports of the (sex-agenarian) naked Strauss-Kahn chasing the chambermaid around his suite. Certainly there is nothing funny about the accusation of rape, and Strauss-Kahn was pulled off a Paris-bound Air France flight last Saturday to face these charges like a common criminal. He could do some serious jail time if convicted, and I understand he just resigned from the IMF. “Mr. Bailout,” as some pundits called him, was thought to be the best hope for the resolution to the Greek financial meltdown. He was also a promising candidate to be the next President of France. Was he set up, as some French pundits suggested? Of course, in the world today, you’re guilty until proven innocent, and anything short of an immediate exoneration will likely end his political aspirations. Representing the Socialist Party in France, he seems to be an odd representative of “the people.” I mean, 3000 bucks per night for a posh hotel room is a bit excessive. If he does beat the rap, which seems rather unlikely at this point, I doubt his being a hound dog will hurt his chances in an election. Look at Marion Barry, former mayor of Washington D.C. . The guy was caught smoking crack in a hotel room with a prostitute, he served six months in prison, and he was still re-elected as mayor.


Final notes: last week, the Queen made a four day visit to The Irish Republic, and that marked the first royal visit to the Republic in 100 years. I’m a little surprised that the one of the radical splinter groups from the I.R.A didn’t take a pot shot at her, but I suppose she was wearing her royal armor. It’s amazing what they can do with Kevlar these days. And you wonder why her hats are so big. As for rock royalty, Bob Dylan turns seventy tomorrow. I thought his voice was bad in the Sixties, but it’s even worse now. Still, the guy writes great songs. I wonder if he ever puts Kleenex in his ears.


Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 5/16/11

Recently, I became a member of SAC (Songwriter’s Association of Canada) with the hopes of meeting and hopefully networking with other songwriters, and last Saturday I attended a Canadian songwriter’s showcase hosted by Bluebird North at the Royal Conservatory of Music in Toronto. Basically these showcases are opportunities to hear successful songwriters talk about their craft and the events that inspired them to create the featured songs. For a non writer this might be insufferably boring, but for me, the “Grasshopper” of budding songwriters, it is box office gold. Most of the time, I write my songs in the vacuum of anonymity. If I’m lucky, an inebriated barfly at the open mic might compliment me with a “Good song, dude,” but mostly, I’m talking(singing) to the hand. My most meaningful positive reinforcement to date has come from the generous professional musicians who have occasionally deigned to play with me. Hearing gifted songwriters like Dan Hill, Marc Jordan, and Jane Siberry pontificate on this little understood craft left me inspired to improve while at the same time reminding me of how far I have to go. Last week I also had the rare opportunity to see Neil Young, one of my songwriting heroes, perform solo at Massey Hall. That memorable performance marked the 40th anniversary of his first visit to that venue. The 1971 concert was recorded, and so was the concert last week. The difference was that, last week, world famous Hollywood director Jonathan Demme did the recording … with IMAX cameras.




It’s been an unusually wet spring so far and last Friday there were serious flash floods in parts of Western New York. In Manitoba last weekend, the difficult decision was made to breach a dike holding back the swollen Assiniboine River, in order to control flooding in more populated areas. Saskatchewan and parts of the Southern United States have also experienced severe flooding, and other hard decisions have been made to open the floodgates. This of course is good news for all the people who stand to lose their properties along the flooding rivers, but bad news for those in the more sparsely populated communities which will now be flooded by the purged water. I guess if you live in low lands, this is what you can expect. Up where we live, they control the spring melt by damming the Magnetawan River. I’m told this has something to do with protecting fish populations during spawning season. Our lake was very high last week, and a few doors down, where years ago our Township mysteriously permitted the construction of eleven commercial structures in a designated flood plain (over the well-documented and vigorous objections of most of the surrounding neighbors), all those cabins were underwater. I wonder, when those buildings eventually wash away, will the town board then deny the necessary permits to rebuild? I doubt it. There are reasons for designated flood plains you boneheads!



A week after the raid that killed Osama bin Laden, more information is coming out about how the world’s most notorious terrorist lived in hiding for the past five years. On the news last week, there were reports that they found porno on bin Laden’s computer, and that made me laugh. The image of this powerful religious zealot, who likely believed adultery is an offence punishable by death, watching “The T & A Team” or “Scooter Trash” (two of MY favorites), is ludicrous. Bin Bombin’s kind of like Jimmy Swaggart, except with a beard and a propensity for mass murder. I found myself wondering what kind of porn the world’s most notorious terrorist would be in to. Straight, gay? Pigmy sex? Camels?? One thing is for sure, he needed a better television; did you see his little 13” set? Was he playing Pac Man on it? We westerners may be The Great Satan, but we know a little bit about home entertainment. There seem to be a lot of stories in the Western media which paint bin Bombin’ as a vain, flawed human being, and that kind of spin is probably healthy catharsis for middle America. Still, I’m not so sure fundamentalist Muslims are laughing. Already there have been violent reprisals in Pakistan, which I think is a bit of a public relations faux pas. I don’t think there are a lot of Western Satan Dogs living in Pakistan, and aren’t the Pakistanis the guys they want on their side? Finally, just in case you thought the Jihad is over, the Imams for two Florida mosques were arrested last week. A father and son were charged with sending $53000 in contributions to the Taliban in Pakistan.



Then again, who knows … maybe it was for porn.



Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/9/11

Did bin Bombin’ really die, was he a CIA operative, was 9-11 in fact orchestrated by the U.S. government? These are some of the goofy conspiracy theories that re-circulated last week, after President Obama’s announcement that the world’s number one bad guy was fish bait. I admit that the whole thing did sound a little suspicious at first. For instance, why the big hurry to dispose of the body? So they dumped bin Laden in the ocean, but why couldn’t they have saved his nose, or an ear or something … you know, like after a bullfight? I want DNA verification. As for whether or not he was armed when he was shot, do I care? If it had been up to me, he’d have been dropped in a giant vat of fresh elephant poop. I’m curious about what Donald Trump thinks, because Trump always seems to have the inside track. After all, he was right on top of Birthcertificategate. It should mean SOMETHING that al Qaeda, the terrorist organization bin Laden founded, acknowledged he’s dead. Nevertheless, that probably won’t prevent Oliver Stone from making a movie telling “the truth” about bin Bombin’. Obama certainly is looking like a leader these days, visiting Ground Zero, meeting with family members of the 9-11 victims, modestly playing down his role in the mission. Whoever handles his PR is doing a good job, because his approval ratings are improving. I wouldn’t want to be the Republicans right now; who’s their big gun now, Trump? Sarah Palin? I understand Newt (eye of?) Gingrich has thrown his hat into the ring, and that might be entertaining. Didn’t he kind of self destruct as Speaker of the House years ago?



And speaking of people unqualified to run for leadership positions, Canadian Liberal Party leader (loser) Michael Ignatieff has fallen on the sword and stepped down as leader of the Liberal Party after his stunning and humiliating defeat in last week’s national election. The commies from the NDP (New Democratic Part) are now the official opposition party to Stephen Harper’s Conservative Majority. Go figure. Television is such a powerful political tool. I remember about fifteen or twenty years ago, Japan had a Prime Minister with what some politely referred to as a “T.V. problem.” Loosely translated, he came across as boring and lifeless. I’m not sure if he actually is one, but Michael Ignatieff gave me the impression that he was an arrogant a-hole in his televised appearances, and I think perhaps Canadians got the same impression.


Weather update: Big floods in Manitoba, horrific killer tornadoes in Alabama, and droughts in cattle country. I heard on the news tonight that Texas cattle ranchers are selling off their livestock. In the short term beef prices may be coming down. In the long term, you might want to consider acquiring a taste for goat. Look for the Big Mac goat burger, coming soon to a Macdonalds near you. Goats are apparently more drought resistant.


As of August 2011 there will be a new Toronto attraction: “ledge walk” at the CN Tower. That’s right, for the modest sum of $175.00 the adventurous will soon be able to teeter on a five foot wide walkway around the periphery of the famous tower, over 1100 feet above Toronto, without a guardrail and secured only by an overhead tether. Sounds to me like a slam dunk for the suicidal modern art student. I’ll pass.


Other news tidbits … Claude Stanley Choules, the last of the WW1 veterans, finally died at the ripe old age of 110 in Perth Australia. It must have been the salmon mousse. Just in time to mark the 50th anniversary of the first American astronaut (Alan Shepard) to visit outer space, six of the planets in our solar system are now in alignment ... and it’s not even the Age of Aquarius. While Canada honors its caregivers during national nursing week, there was a disturbing segment on the news recently about the use of "chemical restraints" in American nursing homes. Faced with the ongoing challenge of caring for geriatric dementia patients, some nursing homes are using anti-psychotic drugs to control these patients, sometimes with disastrous results. I know from observing my own mother that these drugs are contra-indicative. Before she was diagnosed with Lewy Body Disease, she was prescribed a very low dose of some anti-depressant, and she had a terrible reaction. As she becomes increasingly confused I am more convinced than ever before that my sister and I are doing the right thing by having her cared for at home. Finallly there is much indignation this week about  the rampant speculation leading to skyrocketing gas prices. Some say they have peaked at $3.97 per gallon in the States. I heard prices would be inching down this week, but now they’re talking about a six cent spike per litre in Canada, just in time for the first long weekend. Today I paid $1.32 per litre. You do the math. North Americans are now paying about what Europeans paid for gas in 1977. Outrageous!

 Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/2/11

I reluctantly watched some of the Royal Wedding for about two and a half minutes, over the last three days. There had been so much hype leading up to the actual wedding, that by the time the actual event took place, I couldn’t watch anymore. Shauna’s cousin woke up a whatever ungodly hour of the morning the wedding took place and watched the entire event, while drinking tea and eating scones. Holy Egg McMuffin Batman, give me a royal breakfast break! The night of the wedding, I was in Buffalo, over at my friend Bob’s watching TV, and we flipped accidentally to a channel covering the highlights of this magical, over-hyped affair. Bob and I had almost the exact same reaction: Here they come, blah blah blah, horse drawn carriage, Beefeaters, blah, blah, blah … wow, that Kate is HOT, blah blah blah, cool Aston Martin convertible, blah, blah,blah … OK, I’m bored, let’s flip back to the auto auction, I want to see what that Jaguar XK 120 went for. And scene. A friend sent me a YouTube video -- I think it was an ad for some wireless service -- and it was an entertaining spoof of the wedding, with a whole cast of Royal look-alikes, dancing to hip hop music. I thought it was pretty funny and infinitely more entertaining than the 2 ½ minutes I caught of the real deal.

Thank goodness President Obama produced a presumably valid birth certificate last week, because an indignant, potential-but-not-willing-to-commit-Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump was front and center in demanding Obama prove he was born in America. Thank goodness our Commander-in-Chief was able to respond to the oddly-coifed real estate mogul’s demands. We certainly don’t want to fire our elected president, two years into his first term, because he‘s an ILLEGAL ALIEN. That’s perhaps even worse than getting caught receiving a blowjob in the Oval Office. Obama’s birth certificate indicates he was born in Honolulu, Hawaii, and after President Obama produced it, Trump then had the audacity to question its authenticity. Trump was roasted at a White House dinner recently by SNL’s Seth Meyers, and rightly so. Trump was not amused. Rumor has it he can dish it out but he can't take it. What a hoser! He’ll probably pull a Ross Perot and cry “foul!”, but if he does deign to run, I’m guessing The Donald will provide us with hours of "Republican" entertainment. And wouldn't it be fitting if America had the opportunity to turn the tables and say to Trump ..."no, YOU'RE fired." Meanwhile, I think Obama has re-election in the bag, because apparently the Democrats just shot Bin Laden!

Ding dong Bin Bombin’s dead, the wicked terrorist is dead. It took ten long years, but they finally got that crazy S.O.B., and last night President Obama, looking very presidential (and American I might add), informed the world that, at his direction, the world’s #1 bad guy was taken out. And here I thought Obama was a wimp. Yee Haw, chalk one up for us cowboys. What I found a little unsettling were the comments by CNN’s Peter Bergen, who had once interviewed bin Laden and is apparently a terrorism expert. In an interview with Wolf Blitzhead, Bergen confidently stated that this will be “the death of al-Qaeda.” I wonder. As I watched all those jubilant people celebrating last night outside the White House, I wondered who could prevent a suicide bomber from infiltrating the crowd, and quickly taking the wind out of our sails. Yesterday, a twelve year old suicide bomber killed and injured a bunch of people in Afghanistan. I love how they recruit women and children. My fear is the direct result of what a couple of twisted radical Muslims did to all of us on 9/11. One down, how many tens of thousands to go? Thank goodness nothing bad happened last night. I hope that Bin Bombin’s seventy virgins are all pork-eating trolls with leprosy, but that said, I very much doubt his demise marks the end of radical Muslim terrorism in the world.

Finally, and because I find it interesting to look at these stats years later, once or twice a year I refer to the current financial benchmarks. As I write this, the Dow is at 12,854 and gold is hovering above $1500 per ounce. Most notable to me is the recent pronounced downfall in the value of the American greenback. There was a time not too many years ago when the U.S. dollar was worth as much as $1.40 against the Canadian dollar. Today, the greenback is about five cents under the Canadian “Loonie”. And, speaking of Canada, today Canadians go to the polls to decide who the next Prime Minister will be, for the fourth time in seven years. I’m a bit concerned. The Liberal Party was presumed to be the big threat to a Conservative government, but because their leader Michael Ignatieff is such a tool, Jack Layton of the New Democratic Party (i.e. the commies) is emerging as a dark horse, and appears to be gaining ground. Layton could end up being the spoiler for the Harper Conservative autocracy. If the NDP takes charge, say goodbye to any semblence of fiscal responsibility. The only good news for me if the NDP does win a majority, admittedly a long shot, that would likely devalue the Canadian loonie.

Good riddance to Bin Bombin’ … Momo, you’re next.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED