The Oppenheimer Report 12/31/18 Happy New Year

My last post of 2018 … Happy New Year to my 12+ loyal readers! Though I have mentioned it many times before, it bears repeating every New Year. I began writing this report in January of 1992, as a resolution to write a page of my miscellaneous ramblings each Monday for one year.The report was my simple exercise in the discipline of writing consistently. I resolved to write, whether I felt inspired or not, about whatever sprung into my empty head that Monday. Sometimes it was about current events, or it might be a rant about the misbehavior of celebrities or professional athletes, or about the rising cost of corn flakes. Twenty-seven years later, here I am ushering in the infant 2019, and I’m still writing these weekly reports. At 63, my point of view hasn’t changed all that much; I still look at the world with bemused detachment, I still view all political and media information with skepticism, and I am still deplorably judgmental. On the rare occasion when someone asks me “Why don’t you write a book?”, I respond that I have, it just took me 27 years.

What a year it has been. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up from this bad dream and mankind will reset as a peaceful global community, nurtured by harmony and growth; you know, the utopia that so many of us imagine. How it ever got this crazy I will never know, but for those who are even remotely familiar with the crooked path of history, you have probably noticed that cruelty, ignorance, wretched excess, violence, and abominable behavior are nothing new for mankind. There are probably still as many good things happening in the world as there were 50 years ago, it’s just that now, in this golden age of too-much-information, we hear about every bad thing that happens. I sit here, dumbfounded about what to write for the last report of this unusual year. I suppose I’ll do what I always do and just wing it. Here are some off-the-cuff memories of 2018 …

Rump the Orange Emperor might have dominated the headlines with his ego-driven budge for center stage, but there were a lot of noteworthy events that occurred in 2018 which far outshine the Commander-In-Tweet. Destructive hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, wildfires, and now volcanos reminded us that Mother Nature is boss. While I think there is a growing realization that climate change is a real threat, I don’t see mankind dealing with it in any effective way. That horse is barking up the wrong tree and it didn’t look before it leaped. Bill Cosby, Harvey Weinstein, Charlie Rose, Les Moonves, and a laundry list of other powerful men, were all brought down by their mistreatment of women, and the resultant “Me Too” movement created a tsunami of cathartic female rage. It will be much harder going forward to assault a woman (or man) with impunity, especially if the one assaulting is a public figure. Sadly, racism, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, and hatred in general seem to be on the rise, likely fueled by leaders who legitimize their spread. History repeats itself, again and again, and it seems we as a species will never learn. Notable deaths: Anthony Bourdain, CNN host of one of my favorite shows, Anthony Bourdain:Parts Unknown, killed himself in a Paris hotel room. That shook me. I loved his show because it introduced me to exotic places all over the world and de-mystified foreign cultures. I enjoyed his irreverent narrative, and mistakenly presumed that he was an imperfect man who had prevailed over his demons. Clearly, he had not. Other notable deaths: former Secretary General of the United Nations, Kofi Annan, Barbara and George HW Bush, Vern Troyer, Stephen Hawking, Aretha Franklin, Burt Reynolds, John McCain, Margo Kidder, Stan Lee (the founder of Marvel Comics), and Ray Sawyer (lead man in the band Dr.Hook & The Medicine Show). R.I.P. to one and all.

  

I remain cautiously optimistic about 2019 (because it hasn’t started yet!). My personal goals for the upcoming year: write ten good songs, continue to write this report for another year, and find great  new songs to present on my radio show in the coming year. Spread the music, give your love generously, and do your part to contribute to peace on earth!

Wishing you a Happy New Year, one and all!

The Oppenheimer Report - Christmas 2018

Merry Christmas to my twelve loyal readers! I did not feel the frenzied consumerism this year that I have felt in years past. That’s, a good thing, right? Christmas should be about family, and reunions, and selfless good deeds, and wretched excess followed by both hands on the “porcelain bus.” Funny, because last week, I posted a report from the distant past, wherein I decried the rise of materialism, and the uselessness of items like the Ronco food dehydrator. Twenty-one years later, not only do I own a food dehydrator, but I use it frequently. I draw the line at salad shooters though. Remember those things? And what ever happened to the “Flow-Bee”, those suck-n-cut vacuum hair cutters?

Last night, as is my Christmas tradition, I watched “It’s A Wonderful Life” for about the two hundredth time. I cry every time I see that movie, and every year I notice something new. My sister bought me a book about the filming of the movie, which I read with some interest and then proceeded to forget. It’s full of interesting facts about the cast and interesting anecdotes about production. For instance, H.B. Warner, the man who played Mr. Gower, got a bit tipsy to be “in character” for scene wherein he’s supposed to be drunk. Now that’s devotion to your art. Anyhow, tonight I was watching the movie, and somewhere near the end of George Bailey’s nightmarish epiphany, wherein he discovers what the world would have been like had he never been born, there is a scene that always makes me chuckle. George runs out of the bar after he confronts and terrifies the “old maid” Donna Reed, and Burt the cop starts shooting rather recklessly at him as he runs desperately down the street. Burt just shoots away, completely disregarding public safety, and people are ducking because they’re in the line of fire! Talk about bad police work; thank goodness there were no cell phones back then. So much of that film is probably considered offensive by today’s standards. The portrayal of the lovable Bailey family cook Annie is overtly racist. Alcoholism is, at least in Uncle Billy’s case, considered amusing and acceptable behavior. Talk about your Irish stereotype.

Every year around the holidays, there are photos and videos of houses lit up for the seasons, and every year the displays seem to get more elaborate. I heard a story on the news about one guy who was forced to shut his light show down because the controller which coordinated the lights and music was somehow interfering with air traffic controllers. Some of those LED displays are quite spectacular. Christmas lights are my favorite part of the season.

As we approach the New Year, of course the year-in-review shows have begun. Last Sunday, CNN’s Farred Zakaria featured “experts” debating the pros and cons of 2018. Are we headed for Armageddon, or is this The Golden Age? Right now, thanks in part to the Orange Emperor’s irresponsible use of social media, the stock market is tanking, the Federal Government has shut down, Defense Secretary General James Mattis, arguably the last adult in the room, has quit over differences with the bellicose Commander-In-Tweet, and natural disasters abound, the latest being a volcano-precipitated tsunami (who knew that was a thing?) that wiped out hundreds in Indonesia. In general, the world seems to be coming unhinged. Santa, if you’re listening, I have the same request as last year (and every year before that): peace on earth, a lot less hatred, and a little more love. Oh, yes, and could someone point me toward the truth? One last request: a fistful of itching powder sprinkled into Rump’s briefs just before his next self-serving public rally. To all my loyal readers, I hope you have a Merry Christmas today, and many more happy healthy ones to come. 

Ho,Ho,Ho! and don’t be one!

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 12/17/18

For anyone who has followed this report for a while, below is a report I wrote a little over 21 years ago (I started writing them weekly in 1992). Some of the dated references are interestig (i.e. the Canadian postal strike just before Christmas). I was a little grumpier back then. Usually we get grumpier as we age, go figure....

11/12/97 - It seems as if the Christmas season starts a little earlier every year, doesn’t it? No sooner has the Halloween candy been marked down than Christmas chaos kicks in. The elevator music shifts to “Silver Bells” and the elves aggressively pass out free pantyhose at the mall. Forget the day after Thanksgiving, the starting gun has sounded, and the premature spew of Xmas lunacy has begun in full force. Rudolph leaps across frosted store windows, candy canes adorn the artificial trees and, as Santa gleefully rides his Norelco shaver into this year’s red and green retail rodeo, we brace ourselves for another season of frenzied materialism. Ladies and gentlemen, start your credit cards, let the games begin. Since we’re jumping the gun on mirth and goodwill, the following are a few items you might want to add to your ever-growing list of obligatory gifts for the hopelessly unsatisfiable:

Can you go wrong with a Ronco food dehydrator? I watched the hour-long Ronco infomercial the other night (because I don’t HAVE a life), and I must admit, that Ron Popeil is one persuasive guy. I understand his dehydrator has been marked down drastically, and at a fraction of its true value, can you really afford NOT to buy one of these beauties? Do you have any idea what sun dried tomatoes cost these days? Ron does, although he doesn’t seem to know what his food dehydrators cost ... someone has to keep correcting him. “No, Ron, you pathetic cretin, they’re only $40 now,  last week they were $250.” If you already have enough dried food, you may want to consider the ever popular Veg-O-Matic, the Bagel Cutter, the Egg Scrambler (give me a break), the Sausage and Pasta Maker, the Pocket Fisherman ... to name but a few more of Ron’s “must have” items.

Barbie is experiencing a make-over, and your little girl (O.K. ... let’s not be gender specific ... whoever among your friends and family collects dolls) will definitely want the new and improved “Rad Barbie.” She’s a little lighter in the breast department, has a bigger waist, smaller thighs, shorter hair, and a new attitude.  They’ve wiped that big dopey smile off her face, and now she looks like she’s on medication. Perhaps she is. Ken turned out to be a two-timing adulterous embezzler, Skipper contracted AIDS from a dirty needle, and Midge, severely disfigured in a motorcycle accident, has become an embittered recluse. It’s been a rough year for Barbie, and it’s no stretch to assume that she might have had a little elective surgery to cheer herself up ... it’s the California version of buying a new hat.  By the way, for the little soldier in your platoon, may I suggest the new and contemporized  GI  Joe ... GI Paulo. He’s a little less macho, a little less bloodthirsty, but he’s much more sensitive. “Civie” ensembles sold separately.

Speaking of sensitive, talk show host Jerry Springer has a new video out, and I’m sure this one will be a hit. Entitled “Too Hot for T.V.,” this video contains all the out-takes of Springer’s show that were too racy for prime time.  If you want to watch a three hundred pound Amazon beat the crap out of her spineless, emaciated,  two-timing boyfriend (whom she recently caught screwing her mother, after he’d knocked her out with a date rape drug), or a fist fight between two lesbian devil worshipers with multiple body piercings, or the countless spontaneous exposures of genitalia by people whose genitalia you didn’t really need to see, this is the video for you ... check Aunt Bessie off your list, this one is a slam dunk.

Nothing says “I care” like a Weekly World News “Bat Child Escapes” headline tee shirt. The graphics are superb and the novelty can’t be beat. You can see the twinkle in his beady little bat eyes, and if you look closely, you can even see a hint of drool rolling off his pointy little canines. I bought one of these shirts for my friend Bob’s birthday, and I think he was impressed.  He probably thought I was going to get him something useless, like a book of Canadian postage stamps or something.  If bat children aren’t your cup of guano, there are several other astonishing and equally revolting headlines from which to choose.

In the news the other day, Saddam Insane was waving Anthrax and other chemical weapons around with the zeal of an Amway representative. Then, after he’d successfully hidden all his weapons of mass destruction, he agreed to allow the U.N. weapons inspectors back into Iraq. Stop this guy! I have no doubt he’s prepared to do something very evil - he already has, to his own people (ask the Kurds). Just a spoonful of Anthrax makes the enemy go down. What I want to know is, why hasn’t one of his own countrymen taken him out yet?  Oops, friendly fire accident ...  I thought the gun was jammed. Sorry!  Say hi to Allah for me.

There was a major slaughter of innocent tourists at the site of the Luxor Temple in Egypt last week. Ambushed as they got off buses in this, the southern end of ancient Thebes, seventy people were murdered. More than likely it was one of the more radical factions of the growing fundamentalist Islamic lobby in Egypt. Terrorism is always so unbelievably savage. The world was outraged ... this kind of thing couldn’t happen in the States, right?  And certainly not by one of our own citizens, right? Oklahoma was just an exception, right? Hmmm. This kind of incident is not going to help Egypt’s tourist trade one bit. As some of you may already know, there is a Canada-wide mail strike going on, just in time for the holidays. My reaction to this is to investigate alternative and more timely methods of paying bills and corresponding with friends. With the advent of electronic banking, virtual shopping malls, fax machines and E-mail, perhaps it’s time to reevaluate the need for a mail system that costs so much money and seems to be so inefficient. Canada Post gives new meaning to the term “snail mail”. Perhaps private delivery companies could handle all the heavy stuff, and if it costs a little more to send a package, we’d probably still save money in the long run. Eliminate the catalogues, save a bunch of trees in the process, and get all your information from cheap Internet access through your television.  Ads don’t have to be printed on paper ... imagine using your T.V. remote control to browse a catalogue.  I bought a book through the Barnes and Noble Web site a few weeks ago, and, other than the book, no paper changed hands. People worry about sending financial and personal information through a phone line, and that’s a justifiable concern. Security will become of increasing importance as the Internet catches on, but snail mail gets lost and stolen too.

I know that I am speaking blasphemy here, and if any disgruntled mailpersons read this- and we all know there are a few of those out there - I’m a dead man.  If I’m found in a vacant alley, beaten to the consistency of an over-ripe cantaloupe with an undelivered Ronco Sausage & Pasta Machine,  just remember me as a martyr for the next generation of information dissemination. I know Santa is online now ... I just put in my online order for a Veg-O-Matic and some Ronco G.L.H., as in Great Looking Hair paint spray.    

- Jamie Oppenheimer c 1997

The Oppenheimer Report 12/10/18

There was much discussion last week about a popular Christmas song Baby It’s Cold Outside. For any of you out of the loop, the song, written in 1944 by Frank Loesser, gained widespread popularity when it appeared in the movie Neptune’s Daughter in 1949. It has been a Christmas classic for well over half a century, but it has recently come under fire because some think it portrays a man incarcerating a woman and plying her with alcohol with the intention of having sex with her. I weighed in on Facebook last week, and clearly this song has sparked some controversy. One woman, for whom I have great respect as the director of an organization which works with abused women, felt that it was “tacky” to play a song which made light of the idea that “no means NO”. While she was not suggesting the song be banned, she felt it opened a wound, with so many women coming forward in the past year about their personal stories of sexual abuse. The MeToo movement has really shaken the fabric of our society, and I for one am happy this abusive behavior is finally being exposed. I spoke about Loesser’s song on my Lyrical Workers show, a show about songwriting, and I approach this controversy from a different angle.

Someone who responded to my Facebook post sent me a link to a re-written version of the Loesser song, with more politically correct lyrics. The whole tone of the song was changed. I can’t speak for Frank Loesser, but as a songwriter, I would be upset if someone did that to one of my songs. In my opinion, the original song is a cheeky poke at the boundaries of another era, and it stands as a somewhat anachronistic example of the mores of the time. In my opinion it is a beautifully crafted, clever, well-written song. I read somewhere that Loesser wrote the song to sing with his wife at a housewarming party in NYC, and it was instantly a hit. Five years later, it became much more widely exposed when Loesser sold it to MGM. I read that Frank Loesser’s daughter Sue felt the song became controversial when it was used cynically to spoof disgraced sexual predator Bill Cosby in the cartoon comedy show South Park. The song is from another era and should not be judged by today’s sometimes ambiguous standards of decency. It has remained a popular song for over 70 years, and while it may seem inappropriate to some, I don’t think it crosses any lines, especially by today’s standards.

I’ve written a lot of songs over the years that, were they ever to become popular, might offend people. Someone in our community took exception to Mr. Softee Man because it’s about selling drugs to kids. While there is little likelihood that Mr. Softee Man will ever reach a mainstream audience, I am not condoning the bad behavior about which I speak. I wrote the song to reflect an actual news story. The band Foster The People had a big hit with the song Pumped Up Kicks, which is really about gun violence. As offensive as these songs may be, it is up to the public to determine if they have value as art. Freedom of expression presupposes that we can pick and present our art, no matter how offensive it may seem. Over time I have changed my point of view as a songwriter, but one of the things I value about my songs is that each one represents a point in my life. I don’t want anybody changing that, and I think it is a slippery slope when we sanitize or censor art. Individuals may choose to ignore what offends them, and I am not suggesting that all lyrics are ok to air in public, but I also think it is wrong to censor that which might offend. Baby It’s Cold Outside was and is a popular song, and I don’t think it is hateful or mean-spirited. Regardless of my opinion about the meaning of the song, I suggest we let the public decide what they choose to hear. What is it they say about the best intentions?       

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 12/3/18

We haven't had all that many newsworthy earthquakes in North America, at least not in my lifetime, so I took notice last week when I heard there was a magnitude 7 quake (whatever that means) near the City of Anchorage, Alaska. The last two big quakes I can recall were both near San Francisco. The first one, in 1906, was a whopper. It registered a magnitude 7.9, destroyed over 28,000 buildings, burned down 500 city blocks, killed around 3000 residents and, after it was over, it left three quarters of the city in ruins. I wonder what would have happened if that quake had hit the more densely populated San Francisco of today. While the city is more prepared now than it was back then, who knows how it will fare if another “Big One” hits? Buildings are more earthquake resistant now and the disastrous fires which so characterized that 1906 quake would likely be better managed today than they were then, but what do we do when a chunk of California falls into the sea? How do you fix that?

I remember the second major San Francisco earthquake, the one that hit just before game three of the World Series in 1989. My cousin Ted lives in San Francisco, and somewhere in my photo archives I have a photo of Ted, shortly after the quake, standing in front of a collapsed building in the Marina District, near where he lived at the time. Much of the most obvious destruction was in the Marina District, and this area of San Francisco was, if I recall correctly, built largely on landfill. It was weird timing, because it struck just before game three of the World Series. The Oakland Athletics were just about to play The San Francisco Giants in Candlestick Park. Now we have this earthquake near Anchorage, and this was not Alaska’s first. The “Good Friday Earthquake” (another eventful day) hit the Alaska coast, March 27, 1964, by some reports measuring 9.2 in magnitude. I don’t remember hearing about it at the time – I was 9 years old and more impressed by Lloyd Bridges and Sea Hunt on TV - but I learned a little about it when I was reading about this latest earthquake. The ’64 quake originated fifteen miles below Prince William Sound, and the resulting tremors and tsunamis did major damage to Valdez, Whittier, Kodiak, Seward, and Anchorage. The photo above is a small example of that damage, and this and other photos of the damage are compelling reminders of how incredible these quakes are. I know I’m being a fatalist, and perhaps it’s the dismal, rainy weather of late, but doesn’t it seem as if we don’t really have much control over nature’s fury? Is it hubris to assume that if we reduce our output of greenhouse gas we will have an appreciable effect on the direction this train is heading? While I’ll certainly agree the climate is changing for the worse, I do not agree that man will have much control over its current trajectory. I’d like a climate scientist to give me evidence we can change the same cycle which has befallen earth many times before.  Mother Earth is a bitch and she takes no prisoners. Enjoy the ride. Singer Songwriter Jon Brooks wrote a great song for his most recent album No One Travels Alone. It is entitled Proxima B and it is about a planet that has been discovered several light years away which resembles Earth. His point is that hope lies elsewhere, and he implores his listeners, “Baby, pack light.”

Fun fact, there are over 4000 earthquakes per year in Canada, although most of them are too small to feel.

Elsewhere in the news, 41st President of the United States, George H.W. Bush, died last week at 94. Today, there was a quote from Ronald Reagan’s daughter Patti Davis. In essence it said, we mourn the death of the last dignified president. Ain’t that the truth. I don’t know if George H.W. Bush was a good president or not; he was certainly vilified during his term, as was his son “Dubya”during his tenure as POTUS, but both of these guys will go down in history as saints compared to the Bonehed-In Chief who currently holds the office. 

Remember, pack light...

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/26/18

When I was a kid, I used to think bird watching was completely uncool. In my mind, bird watchers were unusual, asocial people who wore safari clothes and French Army tropical pith helmets, with a pair of giant binoculars hanging around their necks. I felt the same way about birdwatching as I did about baseball, fishing, and golf: I thought it was as boring as watching the grass grow. In my teens I had a high school teacher who was a member of the Sierra Club, and we used to make fun of old Neil, because he fit the image of the prototypical bird watcher. Turns out Neil was a pretty interesting guy after all. I also remember a strange experience I had when I was living in Dublin. I walked into a pub one day in one of the rougher sections of Dublin, and everyone at the bar was quietly watching a nature program about birds. You could have heard a pin drop in that pub as the narrator on television went on about the Ruby-Throated Cornholer ... well some bird anyway. I just never “got” bird watching until Shauna and I began to spend a lot of time out west in Banff.

I’m not exactly sure when I became a convert, but there was a bird that visited us every year at the Douglas Fir where we stayed in Banff, and he/she became our companion. He was a Clark’s Nutcracker, and we called him "Broke Toe", so named because he was missing half a claw. Shauna really bonded with this little guy, and he came back to visit us year after year. He’d be on our balcony every morning when we woke up. Unlike other Clark’s Nutcrackers, who have a terrible, grating song, Broke Toe never made a peep. As we began to observe his behavior, it became apparent that he was intelligent and had a distinct personality. We began to read up on these birds, and discovered they were really quite remarkable animals for a number of reasons. As an example, apparently Clark’s Nutcrackers will store food in many different places, miles apart, and they can remember where every stash is. Broke Toe was not the most attractive bird by any stretch of the imagination. Magpies are much more beautiful, and the Gray Jays have a  prettier song, but Broke Toe was special, and he was my first hint that all birds were intelligent creatures. Because of Broke Toe, we began to pay attention to other birds, and the more we learned – mind you, we are not fanatic birders – the more interested we became.

I remember speaking with Andre Wahl during one of my recording sessions with him, and we got on the subject of crows. Apparently, singer songwriter Brock Zeman, of whom I am a big fan, is very interested in crows, and studies their behavior. Crows are apparently very intelligent birds, and I recall seeing a video once of a crow learning a complicated set of actions in order to receive a morsel of food. All my life I’d presumed all birds are stupid, but this is just one more humbling reminder of how little I know.

Yesterday I was surfing on Facebook, and ended up on the page of a drummer friend of mine who is also an excellent photographer. On his page was a photograph (I don't think it was one of his) of a fascinating and very funny-looking bird called a Chukar Partridge. When I clicked on the picture to get a larger image, there was a link to a Facebook Page entitled simply “Birds” and wow! I heartily recommend that you check out that page if you are on Facebook. Give it a “like” and look at some of the photos and videos. I have never seen so many wonderful, spectacular, exotic, colorful birds. It seems the older I get the more I’m paying attention to the miracle of Mother Earth. If I’ve learned anything in my 63 years, it is to appreciate what I once ignored. No matter how we try, we will never win the war we have waged with Mother Nature. Long after we lemmings, led by the myopic Orange Emperor, have jumped off the cliff, the Ruby-Throated Cornholer will likely be soaring peacefully over the empty landscape, oblivious to the fact that its greatest threat has disappeared. 

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/19/18

Shauna and I  with Mt. Assiniboine in the background

A few weeks ago I discussed my youthful propensity to judge and say cruel things. Even back as far as the early nineties, when I began to write this weekly newsletter, there was plenty about which to be judgmental. There were scandals in the Catholic Church, a half dozen televangelists who couldn’t keep it in their pants, the O.J. Simpson fiasco/trial, and the usual celebrity and political scandals that seem to find their way into the headlines. Now that we have the Orange Emperor, who has managed to become the most notorious hate magnet since Adolph Hitler, the judgment continues. I am as guilty as the next man of forming my opinions based on bad information. I still judge, and I suspect we all do to a certain extent. I have mellowed a bit in my old age.

I was talking to a friend last week about the Tony Clement sex scandal which recently hit Muskoka. Clement had been caught tweeting photos of his genitalia to a young female, and he was being extorted to keep the scandal a secret. He chose, probably rightly so, to turn the matter over to authorities, thereby making his problem a matter of public record. Clement literally destroyed his very successful political career, and has become the butt of a thousand jokes, all because he has a sex problem. I really don’t care to hear the dirty little secrets about other people’s personal lives, but this is the price any public figure pays these days. Oh, to be back in the good old days, when a powerful politician could have a sex symbol murdered to avoid scandal. The point my friends were making – and they both know (or thought they knew) Tony quite well – is that it was a shame that he had failed so publicly in this very human way. They were shocked and dismayed, but the common sentiment was that the community and social media has made things much worse. Everyone is heaping on the indignation and hatred. Regardless of what you think about Tony’s politics, to all those who are kicking a dead horse, I ask: are there any skeletons in your closet? I cannot imagine what it would be like to be such a prominent public figure so publicly exposed (literally) as having a sex problem. What Clement did was reprehensible, and his actions showed terrible judgment, especially considering his responsibility to his constituents. That said, his career is probably over, and I’m certain this scandal has been devastating to his family. His life is ruined, and while he is decidedly responsible for his own stupid actions, have a little compassion. We are all so quick to judge, myself included, but from my experience, the most self-righteous among us are often the biggest  hypocrites. I think Tony has been humiliated enough.

Shauna and I first met because we are both songwriters, and at the time we exchanged demo tapes of our original songs. She has been my muse for 25 years now, and has often shaped, influenced, and in some cases co-written the songs I’ve created. Last Thursday night I premiered a song Shauna had written in 1986 entitled Not With You. While it’s only a rough demo, I think the recording represents Shauna’s songwriting skills, as well as her beautiful voice. She was very nervous to have me air the song, but the response has been overwhelmingly positive. For many years now, Shauna has put her music on the back burner to support my music and the music of other local artists. We celebrated our 10^th Anniversary by spending a beautiful weekend at the Mt. Assiniboine Lodge (on the border of Alberta and British Columbia), and we wrote a song about the experience. The other day, Shauna and I rehearsed the song with the intention of someday soon recording it together. It’s a good song and very meaningful to us both. Hopefully, we will get the song properly recorded before our 25^th this coming May. I also hope this will be the beginning of many more collaborations wherein Shauna sings with me. She has a MUCH better voice than I do!

  - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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The Oppenheimer Report 11/12/18

Watching the fires in Malibu and Paradise, California, I am reminded of how fast things can change. Paradise, California, north of San Francisco has been almost completely wiped off the map. Seven years ago, a similar thing happened to the town of Slave Lake, Alberta, north of Edmonton wherein 40% of the town was destroyed. Rump quickly tweeted his rant that these wildfires are the result of poor forest management by the state. In response to this ill-considered tweet, the Pasadena Fire Association tweeted the following: “Mr. President, with all due respect you are wrong. The fires in So. Cal are urban interface fires and have NOTHING to do with forest management. Come to SoCal and learn the facts & help the victims.” Of course, this is business as usual for the Orange Emperor. Perhaps he hopes that each stupid thing he says will divert attention away from the hundred other boneheaded things he has said or done. To the extent that states like Florida and California are heavily developed and ever more susceptible to devastating weather events, I suppose the states bear some responsibility, but these fires likely have more to do with climate change than with anything the state could have done to control the event.    

The midterm elections were good for the donkeys. Beto O’Rourke didn’t win the Texas Senate race, but he sure gave Eddie Munster clone a run for his money. Reportedly, O’Rourke was 220,000 votes (out of 8.3 million) shy of defeating Ted Cruz. These mid-terms were definitely a shot across the bow for the Republican Party. They have now lost control of one of the two Houses of Congress, and I see this as a referendum on Rump’s lack of leadership. My final indignant comment about the Commander-In-Tweet concerns Remembrance Day. Why did he even go to France? His poor representation of the United States and its military was a travesty, not to mention a slap in the face to every American soldier who has ever fought to protect our country. What an embarrassment.

We had a mini blizzard last week, and during the wee hours of the morning all I could hear was a freight train wind pounding our house. The morning after the storm, evidence of its force was clear in the wind-driven snow caking our windows. It was quite a winter storm for early November; is it portents for the winter to come? I fired up the snowblower last week, and most everything is wrapped up for winter. Seems I got the dock up just in time. I watch all these weather disasters around the world and I wonder how we will fare if we get one of those freak lake effect storms up here. It’s just a matter of time. Well, at least I've got the snowblower (hah).

On the music front, last week on my Lyrical Workers show, I released my latest song, “Watch For Wolves”, co-written with my wife Shauna and my most recent producer, Sean Cotton. Not counting the several songs to which Shauna has contributed, this is my second collaboration with another songwriter. The trick is to remain objective about that which improves the song, and I think Sean and Shauna improved the song with their input. Presently, I am three songs into a series of five or six songs about the state of the world today. The project grew out of a song I wrote entitled “Better” and written for (but not used) the Imposters Game CD. The chorus of the song is simply “How can I (We/You, and I, and love) make this better?” All the songs reflect the existential journey I am now on; the journey of an aging boomer trying to find the love in all of this chaos.

  - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/5/18

Tomorrow will be a historic day in the United States. I think there is a struggle taking place for the soul of America, and tomorrow's mid-term results will tell us how strongly Americans support Rump, the Orange Emperor. I watched a very interesting 60 Minutes segment last night discussing the heated senatorial race in Texas, a state traditionally considered to be a “red” or Republican state. Republican incumbent Ted Cruz is facing stiff opposition from his Democratic opponent, Beto O’Rourke, even though O’Rourke is running his campaign on a shoestring budget. The idealistic O’Rourke is not accepting any of  the big money PAC support that his bloated opponent relies upon. O'Rourke may lose; he’s fighting a very powerful incumbent, and it seems he brought a knife to a gunfight. Still, wouldn’t it be great if he won? I’d like to see Goliath take one right between the eyes. Some say this race is a litmus test for the political climate in the rest of the country. In keeping with his reality T.V. behavior, Rump the blowhard is scampering around the country trying to shore up his base (always at the taxpayer’s expense). Spreading his lies and ignorance, and sparing no indignity as he spews his irresponsible, hate-filled venom, Rump is proudly riding atop his turd-filled tsunami of fear. I don’t think there has ever been a more glaring example of political hypocrisy than Donald Rump hugging Ted Cruz at a campaign rally in Texas. I threw up a little in my mouth. Does anybody remember the horrible things they said about each other in the presidential primaries?! If, as I hope and pray, the Republicans lose the House (and I never thought I’d wish for this), and the Democrats take a few key states like Florida, Georgia, and Texas, then there may still be hope for the soul of America. Even if the Democrats win big, the problem isn’t fixed, we just stopped the bleeding temporarily. 

Last Friday night, I drove down to Huntsville to see singer songwriter Jon Brooks perform at the Huntsville Legion, and in tow I had fellow musicians Sean Cotton, Paul Noonan, and my bluegrass mentor Buck Marshall. Sadly Shauna, who has been battling the flu, was unable to attend. I feel terrible for her because she loves Jon's songs and had been looking forward to this concert for months. On the drive in to town I learned that Sean Cotton was good friends Jon Brooks and had been his musical accompanist in the past. After we arrived at the concert, I was walking around, socializing with friends and fellow attendees, then set up my cell phone to record the performances about to take place. The next thing I knew, Sean had made arrangements to borrow Jack Nickalls’ guitar (Jack and his friend Jack Gaughan played an excellent jazz set as the opening act), and he agreed to accompany Jon during his set. When they got up onstage and played, it was evident they had played together before. There was a palpable chemistry between these two old friends. Sean blended in beautifully and added his unique guitar leads to many of the songs I’d heard Jon perform  so many times before. As I have said ad nauseam on my Lyrical Workers show, one should never underestimate the ability of a good musician to improve an already well-written song. The whole night was fantastic, and I was grateful to have shared it with a respectable, like-minded audience.

I don’t know what will happen in tomorrow’s mid-terms; I expect the worst and hope for the best. My wish is to stem the jingoistic, hate-inspired, and myopic void in leadership which has characterized the past two years. We are better than this man. There is a new benchmark for bad leaders, and it’s time to send America’s Mussolini a message: You’re fired.  

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Reort 10/29/18

A pre-emptive Happy Halloween to all my readers! I’ve always liked Halloween, because it inspires creativity. Are you donning, or have you donned a costume this year? I love the transformation of the self that takes place during Halloween costume parties. Normally mild-mannered, reticent people become their costumed persona. Add a little alcohol to the equation, and the results can be hilarious. The sum and total of my Halloween involvement this year was to buy a tube of fake blood from Dollarama for my annual disturbing Halloween selfie, and to resurrect last year’s Halloween decoration outside our house. Seated on one of the Muskoka chairs outside our front door is a scarecrow-like body, stuffed with leaves and bearing an orange plastic jack-o-lantern head, also courtesy of Dollarama. I know I have dissed the amateurs who do their last minute Halloween shopping at the dollar store, but there’s nothing wrong with doing something creative with props purchased at the dollar store.

Lots of people decorate their houses for Christmas; some put up enough lights to create blackouts in their neighborhood, but a lot of people decorate their houses for Halloween as well. Steve Spencer, a volunteer at Hunters Bay Radio who hosts the radio show Spirit Of Radio, and who is responsible for creating our new and improved website, gets serious about his “Holiday Haunt”. I completely get this. Today I Googled “Best Decorated Halloween Houses” and saw some great examples. Just across the street from the Hunter’s Bay Radio station, there is a wonderful Halloween display, complete with moving blowup ghosts. 

All of the nut balls seem to be coming out of the woodwork. Last week, there were two disturbing attacks in America by people who seem to have been incited by the Orange Emperor. Nut ball #1 is Florida resident and lone wolf Cesar Sayoc, who mailed out 14 pipe bombs to people or organizations (including CNN studios in NYC) he considered to be enemies of his beloved Rump. Posted on his van was a collage of anti-media/pro-Trump images, along with Rump targets bearing crosshair graphics covering their faces.  While no one was injured by his stupid hate-filled act of violence, his actions could have killed or maimed a lot of unintended victims. Law enforcement had Sayoc in custody within 24 hours, a remarkable accomplishment, but I fear that Rump’s venomous rhetoric has opened a Pandora’s Box of hatred. Last week, 11 victims were murdered at a synagogue in Pittsburgh, when an anti-Semitic gunman opened fire during Saturday services.  

I don’t hate Donald Trump, but I certainly hate the evil he has unleashed through his ignorance and irresponsability. Maybe these attacks would have happened under the leadership of a decent human being, there are after all a lot of mentally ill people out there, but Rump’s rabble-rousing campaign rallies, designed to energize his increasingly unbalanced base, have clearly thrown gas on the fire. This is the opposite of leadership; this S.O.B. makes Joe McCarthy look like a choir boy.  I realize that the political status quo has sparked this outrage, and that there is plenty of blame to go around with regard to Washington's failure to solve the big problems of our country. But, Americans elected a liar, a bully, and a fraud, who routinely spreads hatred through his insanely irresponsible rhetoric, and it should be fairly clear by now that he will not solve our problems. If there is any good that will come out of this mess, it is that Rump has exposed how broken we really are. This one man has singlehandedly unraveled the myth that so many of us still buy into: that America is a beautiful tapestry of different races and creeds, united under one flag. 

One final question ... who’s dressing up as Pandora’s Box for Halloween this year?

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 10/22/18

Last week, weed was legalized across Canada, and for many Canadians this is a monumental change.  I've never lived any place before where it is legal to possess and smoke pot in a public place. According to the news, The Federal Government legalized pot in order to eliminate the black market and to make it harder for minors to procure. I’m not exactly sure how that will work, because it has never been particularly hard for minors to find weed. I very much doubt that the black market will disappear simply because the government has decided to tax and legally dispense marijuana. Minors will find ways to buy weed the same way I found a way to drink beer when I was under-aged. In Quebec, the newly elected, and some would argue “Rump-like” Premier, Francois Legault, is planning to make 21 the legal age for smoking pot and I think that will virtually ensure that younger pot smokers turn to the black market. As well, there seems to be a greater demand than the government anticipated. In Ontario, where there will be no actual pot stores for about six months, the only way to buy legal weed is online. With the looming postal strike, how do you think that is going to work?  On top of this, there are widespread reports that demand is far outweighing supply, with many legal sources out of stock for many items. 

Certainly, a major concern with the legalization of marijuana, and one of the things which is on the minds of many responsible citizens, is the issue of impaired driving. At present I don't think there is an enforcable test for whether a person is legally impaired by the effects of THC, but I’m sure that test will soon be available to police. There is growing concerned that more drivers will be driving stoned now that pot has been legalized. I think there were a lot of people driving stoned before it was legalized. Is this as big a concern as the issue of people driving under the influence of alcohol, I don’t know. There is evidence that driving stoned decreases reaction times. Impaired driving is impaired driving. Also of concern is the effect of smoking weed on the developing mind. No problem here, mine never did develop.

My main beef with the legalization of marijuana is that, at least in Ontario, I can't find any CBD products.  I'm particularly interested in the non-intoxicating CBD, because there is evidence it may be a healthier choice for pain relief. As well, CBD may also improve sleep quality and reduce anxiety, so it is particularly maddening that the most medicinal component to legal marijuana is still not legally available. What is up with that? I find it ironic that, in a country with socialized health care, there is currently no legal way to buy CBD or edible marijuana products. Let's sell the intoxicant but not the medicinal weed. And oh yes, if you use our product, you have to smoke it. 

Generally, I think it makes common sense to decriminalize pot. It would be wonderful if the government could somehow manage the proper and responsible use of this drug by legalizing it, but I don’t see this happening anytime soon. Regarding health concerns, the people who have always smoked weed will continue to do so, and they will likely find a way around the government rules if the government does not do a better job of offering it. In my opinion, they have not done so yet.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 10/15/18

Today, winter is definitely in the air, and this first cold, damp day of fall always knocks the wind out of my sails. Looking at the angry lake, and my boat bobbing up and down at the dock, I realize that the time has come for me to put it away for the season. Every year I experience the same denial. Seems like just yesterday I was dropping the retractable dock for the summer season. In fact, I didn’t get out on the boat all that much this season. There was an ongoing electrical problem with the motor which caused it to keep running after it was turned off, sometimes for fifteen or twenty minutes. This was a new motor, allegedly under warranty, but my marina could not figure out the problem. We swapped out three key switches and still the problem kept resurfacing. To complicate matters, my marina gave up their Evinrude dealership during the time when I had the ongoing problem. I eventually ended up having it repaired in Huntsville, but the season here is too short for motor problems. I’m still fighting with BRP to acknowledge that this problem was never fixed during the warranty period, even though the issue was well documented. The boat went in the water in July, and now, quite suddenly, it’s October. In the twenty-five years I’d owned the previous motor (a Yamaha), I never had one issue. Guess they don’t make ‘em the way they used to.

There was a local news story today which caused some controversy on the Hunters Bay Radio Facebook page. A car drove over a fifty-foot cliff at an elevated lookout overlooking Huntsville, and HBR posted a photo of the wrecked vehicle. Shortly thereafter, a comment was posted under the photo, suggesting that the photo was in poor taste and that it was not appropriate coverage for a community radio station. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion. Still, the comment sparked a lot of debate about what is appropriate news to cover, and I found myself a little perplexed. I know it’s sensationalistic, and perhaps it's even grisly, but come on! In a small town, when someone drives a car with passengers over a fifty foot cliff, after pushing a boulder out of the way with the car to do so, dangling off the cliff for a period of time before plunging fifty feet to the ground below; well, I think that is newsworthy. And yes, I'd like to see what happened. It doesn't mean I revel in someone else's misfortune, but are we not exposed to horrible news every day?

Saudi royalty ordered a hit on disruptive Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi, and got caught by the world doing it. Now they're trying to spin it as an interrogation gone bad but nobody's buying it. The world is indignant, including Canada, but so far no one is tearing up any lucrative military contracts. No sooner did Hurricane Florence hammer the Carolinas, then Hurricane Michael whips up into a Cat 4 hurricane, wipes the Florida Panhandle clean, and we’re off to the races again. Speaking of horrible things I don’t need to see on a screen (but probably will someday); I am certain that, sooner or later, some hurricane-chasing newscaster will get flattened by a piece of flying debris on air and carried off into a roiling sea. I am also certain it will be watched by tens of millions of people. Sadly, that's just how it is, if you are remotely connected to social media or television, or just the world around you, you are going to see things you wish you hadn't. You can turn away if you so chose. But, when I see the controversy over a possibly inappropriate photograph, posted on a community radio Facebook page, I want to tell the dissenter, I think maybe the Good Ship Indignation has sailed. Know what I mean? You're barking up the wrong tree with both oars out of the water, and you didn't look before you leaped.

The Oppenheimer Report 10/8/18

Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends. As I write this report, I am sitting out on our front porch off our bedroom, overlooking the lake, and a heavy rainfall has just drenched the property. The fall air is damp and cold, and I can smell wood smoke from a neighbor’s fire. That smell rekindles memories of places and people I have known. I am reminded of a fraternity expedition into the woods of Connecticut to cut firewood for the winter. I remember the smell of the damp dead leaves, the muted palette of a hundred earth tones surrounding me; the smells of fall. I remember laughter, and the sound of chainsaws, and my friend’s enormous ’68 Plymouth Belvedere with its big block V8, so full of logs that the back end was practically dragging on the ground. We used to joke about that car being the perfect mob vehicle because there was so much room for bodies in the trunk.

Today is also my 63^rd birthday, and I have much for which to be thankful. I’m still alive, for starters. The other day I posted a photo I took in the Porta-Bote as I putted up the Magnetawan River after picking up the mail. There won’t be too many more of those trips this season, and I felt blessed to have seized the day. It was late afternoon, and as the sun peeked through a canopy of pines, lighting up the multi-colored maple leaves on the opposite bank, I had one of those elusive moments of pure peace. For just one instant, I was mindful of the paradise in which I live, of the natural beauty which has become harder and harder for me to see. If I could only find a way to be more invested in the moment, and nullify all the misunderstanding and divisiveness that I can’t seem to outrun. All the drama, the trauma, the blame, the tragedy, the misogyny, the words that are derogatory, the spin, the sin, the divisiveness, the broken promises, the omnipresent hatred and misunderstanding; the losing battle to control or defeat the very elements which are uncontrollable – it all just drifted away in the snap of a cell phone photo. Sadly, I don’t reside in this peaceful moment often. I have the photo to remind me.

For what am I thankful? Let me see. I am thankful for my family, for the four wonderful parents (one still with us) who guided me through the first six decades of my life, for my remarkable, beautiful wife, who daily reminds me to chose love over hate, for all my good friends who have so far infused my soul with their complicated and beautiful personalities, and who continue to teach me by their examples. I am thankful for human kindness wherever it is found, and for the people who recognize and practice it in their everyday lives. I am thankful for all the trees, presently ablaze with color, some which we, or people we love, planted, and which remind me of the swift passage of time. I am thankful for the color blue in all its hues, for the key of D, for the chickadees who so boldly land on our window ledge in every kind of weather looking for food; for all the other birds I have lately come to admire, including but not limited to: blue jays, grey jays, nuthatches, crows, grosbeaks, owls, and eagles. I am thankful for the chipmunks, squirrels, groundhogs, porcupines, weasels, fox, beaver, moose, deer, bear, raccoons, etc.that live here with us. I am thankful for music in its rich array of styles, and for its capacity to unite unlike minds. I am thankful for my ability to communicate.  

Most of all, I am thankful for the flickering but ever-strengthening realization that I am not on this planet to hurt anyone or anything else. I am thankful for times when I am mindful I do, and for my efforts to correct that behavior. I am thankful that, for the first time in over sixty years, I am beginning to love myself, and am therefore more likely to pass that love along. Finally, I am thankful for the occasional realization that most of what happens around me is out of my control. I can only work to keep lit the flickering flame of love within me and hope that it will illuminate the dream of a peaceful future when I am gone. Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 10/1/18

I watched the season opener for Saturday Night Live last weekend, and I thought the opening skit was pretty funny; well, as funny as it could be, given the subject matter. For those who didn’t see it, the skit was about the recent appointment hearings for Brett Kavanaugh, and it lampooned the circus, the hypocrisy, and the political divisiveness which has characterized those hearings. More specifically, the skit was about the very recent testimony of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford, who claims that Judge Kavanaugh sexually assaulted her when the two of them were teenagers.

I don’t know who’s wrong or right in this circus of spin, but it is quite clear where the liberal-leaning SNL writers stand on the issue. My uneducated guess on the outcome of this appointment is that, after the week is up, and the FBI has done their restricted investigation of Dr. Ford’s allegations, Kavanaugh will squeak through. Politics aside, the ability to confirm an accusation that happened so many years ago is next to impossible. Sadly, I believe Dr. Ford, and I do not, as some suggest, believe that her motivation in coming forward was political.  That said, her traumatic assault was politicized and, as has been suggested many times on the news, this scandal may have been payback by the Democrats for the scuttled Obama appointment in 2016 of the liberal-leaning Merrick B. Garland. I have several things to say about this latest downward spiral in human decency.

First of all, I find it noteworthy that this appointment became a powder keg moment in the “Me Too” movement. It struck a nerve, and this scandal seems to have unleashed all the rage and indignation that assault victims all over America have been experiencing for a long time. Bill Cosby, poster boy for sexual predators, just went to prison for his crimes. Harvey Weinstein will likely do time as well. Women are angry and Kavanaugh has become this symbol of oppression, a man who might have the power to determine a woman’s right to choose. In my opinion, there is something fundamentally wrong with any man making that decision for a woman. I don’t know what happened almost forty years ago when Dr. Ford and Brett Kavanaugh were in high school. Her testimony was compelling, and I believed her story. Does it fully explain what happened, probably not. What it does do is raise doubts about this man who is being interviewed for a lifetime appointment to the Supreme Court. He could potentially be the deciding vote in the overturning of Roe V. Wade, so stories about his possible mistreatment of a woman, no matter how long ago, are troubling. When Kavanaugh was interviewed after Ford’s testimony, I felt he was less than forthcoming. Apart from his palpable and perhaps justifiable anger, he answered some of the difficult questions in an aggressive and combative manner. A man being interviewed for a seat on the highest court of the United States Judiciary should be level-headed. One thing is clear: two lives have been thrown into the Washington grist mill and spit out like hamburger meat. This whole thing stinks, and this brings me to point #2.

We’re collectively incredulous that a man like Rump was elected President of the United States, but this latest example of the self-destructive political vitriol which has overtaken Washington is exactly why Rump was elected. Arguably half of American voters chose Rump because he’s not one of them. People hate politicians. Politicians lie, they do not, as they are entrusted to, do what is right for America; they pander to their base, cover their butts, and kiss the asses of their big money financial supporters. I am a just-right-of-center conservative, but I do not like Kavanaugh for justice of the Supreme Court. I suspect he is not the villain he is being made out to be, I simply don’t want Roe V. Wade overturned, and I don’t like his stance on executive privilege. Regardless, the process by which he was to be appointed is severely compromised by the political divisiveness of the interviewers. What qualified individual in his or her right mind would subject himself or herself to the kind of character assassination and dirty pool so prevalent in this corrosive political environment? More often than not, I am confused by that which is presented as the truth, and the waters just keep getting murkier. I hope some good can come from all this ugliness, and that the ship of state will right itself. We’ll see.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED     

The Oppenheimer Report 9/24/18

For almost 27 years now, I’ve been waking up Monday mornings and writing down a page of my thoughts about what was going on in the world. In the early days, I mailed the report out on postcards, and in later years I reached my 12 loyal readers on the internet. Sometimes I’ll jot down some notes from the previous week to remind myself of what I want to say, but usually it’s just off-the-cuff brain farts. I long ago gave up the notion of writing for a larger audience, because 1. I’m too lazy and undisciplined to market myself, and 2. and these “reports” are more of an ongoing effort to improve my communication skills; I do not want to be in the line of fire for my sometimes irresponsible, off-color opinions. In the early years, when this report was called The Hyman Report, I was more mean-spirited and judgmental. I went for the cheap laugh, because it was easy, and because my readers were all friends of mine. They all knew and accepted that I could be edgy.  

Last night, I was watching John Oliver’s very funny show Last Week Tonight with John Oliver. He did a15-minute bit on the dark side of Facebook, and about Facebook's tendency to propagate hateful rhetoric. He jokingly warned Third World countries, just now being introduced to the scourge of social media, about the dangers of believing everything one reads on the internet. While it was a tongue-in-cheek bit, there was a lot of truth to it. In fact, there is in a lot of truth in this comedic news reporting (Daily Show, Colbert Report, etc), and  I think I got a better read on current events from Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert than I ever did from CNN or any other of the other “legitimate” news sources. Sarcasm and irony can be powerful weapons, and are often an effective way to reveal the truth.

My octogenarian friend Ben Harrison, who broadcasts a show weekdays on Hunters Bay Radio called Tech 5, did a story recently about kindness, and about the attendant health benefits of being kind and generous. That old adage “it is better to give than to receive” may actually be true, and as I watch the world take a nosedive in the practice of good will, I am more and more mindful of that homespun wisdom, even if I struggle to put it into practice. I look at all the nonsense going on in the world today, and I find myself wondering how it got this bad. Celebrities and politicians act shamefully, and we shake our collective heads in disgust.  Still, some of us  can’t look away from the train wreck. We judge, and we tell ourselves we are better than that. Haters abound and provide lucrative fodder for the grist mill, while the good guy stories are buried on page 10 of the newspaper. A prime example of this is the CTV 11 O’Clock News, which nightly bombards us with the worst news our world has to offer. Then they offer us a very short but hopeful story at the end of each broadcast. Corruption, hatred, natural disasters come first, and then there is a touching story about a child bravely facing some incurable illness, or two holocaust victims who are re-united.

There is no question in my mind that things are going in the wrong direction, and there seems to be a domino effect with regards to ill will. I don’t think our elected Commander-In-Tweet is our biggest problem. Certainly, he is a symptom, a very big canary in the coal mine. He might be an outrageous, immoral human being – after all the spin and scandal has settled, history will record how bad he actually was – but almost half of America voted for him. Now, this ill-advised and under-qualified leadership is spreading like wildfire throughout the world. I sometimes quote the wisdom of Pogo, the world’s wisest cartoon possum: “We have met the enemy and he is us!”

  

We the voters let this happen, didn’t we? When are we going to look in the mirror and own up to this reality? What good is righteous indignation, and what happened to doing the right thing, regardless of the consequences? Where are our heroes? Buried on page 10. The next time I am inclined to say something derogatory about another human being, I am going to try to check that impulse. I need only read some of my earlier reports to realize how mean and judgmental I have been. While I regret this, I can’t change who I have been. I can learn from it and strive to improve myself. Maybe a little gentle humor is in order, and yes, at times maybe even a little sarcasm. Maybe I need to exercise a little humility, something to chip away at the armor of I’m-right-you’re-wrong. Regardless of my opinion, if I can’t find common ground with my fellow man, then I am ultimately doomed. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think that half of America is comprised of mouth-breathing cretins, easy as it is to make that generalization. Like any country, America is made up of complicated human beings. Perhaps some of them are uninformed, but most are simply frightened and disgusted with the status quo. It doesn't help to have a predatory media fanning the flames.

Getting back to John Oliver’s cynical rant about Facebook: it was very funny, and partly true. We must be mindful that not all information is factual. For me, Facebook is a recreational drug; it feeds the narcissist and the voyeur in me, but it can also be an amazing tool to connect me to the world around me. This morning I watched a video providing me with a bird’s eye view of an eagle’s flight over a rocky coastline. I’ve watched my nieces and nephews grow up on Facebook. I have been apprised of wonderful music and songwriters with whom I was unfamiliar. In fact, I’ve made contact with some of those people. I have seen horrible things as well. The trick is figuring out what is real and what is nonsense. That can be difficult.

Destructive tornadoes recently tore through Ottawa and Gatineau, Quebec. Hurricane Florence just hammered the Carolinas; a mega typhoon just struck the Far East. Mother Nature is sending us a message I think. As we sift through the wreckage of our mistakes, the message seems to be wake up!  Much of the adversity we face is out of our control. Instead of looking for someone to blame, why not take our lessons from the wise and unsung heroes all around us. We may or may not be able to solve every problem, but it sure beats focusing on the negative and the divisive. There is good in everyone, and while it may be hard to see or extract, I wnat to focus on the best we have to offer, not the worst. It’s my choice to take the high road or the low road. I take joy in the aerial view of an eagle, or a story about some unsung hero, and hopefully I marginalize the oafish, the boorish, the hateful, and the unkind. Those people have always been there, and they always will be. These days they are just a little more up front and center. Be nicer to each other; and laugh at yourself, because I’m laughing at you ... I mean with you.  

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 9/17/18

Clearly, the world has big problems. There are monster hurricanes and typhoons spinning around the seven seas, Russian operatives are running around poisoning their enemies with toxic nerve agents, Rohingya refugees are being slaughtered by the thousands in Myanmar, wildfires and draughts are decimating the Western states and provinces, and the United States of America seems poised for some kind of civil war thanks to Rump, The Orange Emperor…. but do you want to know what really frosts my donut? Those little stickers they put on fruit won’t come off. We bought a food dehydrator a while ago and have been using it to dry fruits and vegetables, and I spend half of my prep time removing the stickers they glue to the produce. I don’t think it is necessary to superglue  those labels to every single apple I buy.

Last Saturday night, I drove to the Huntsville Legion to see my friend Juan Barbosa open for Grace Solero and Dan Beaulaurier, two artists from London. I really went to support Hunters Bay Radio and Juan, but Solero and Beaulaurier were really good. Solero has a powerful, distinctive rock voice and the two artists together performed a really strong set. Regrettably, the show was under-attended. That seems to be a problem nationwide from what I understand. On the one hand, YouTube and social media allow bands to present their acts, building their audience without having to impress some myopic music industry middle man. On the other hand, at least in Canada, we as a collective audience seem to be less inclined to see live original music. In this community, I’ve attended many half-filled concerts featuring great acts. I’ve read that festival attendance has been suffering as well. I’m not sure why that is, and was discussing it with Jeff Carter, managing director of the radio station during the concert Saturday night. Some acts, like Matt Andersen, fill seats, but then some equally talented artists do not. Is it in the promotion? Perhaps, with the stricter rules about drinking and driving, people aren’t going out to clubs as much as they used to. 

I spoke a few weeks ago about the lonely life of a touring musician. I suppose it’s intoxicating when you’re under the lights and one hundred or more people are digging what you’re playing, but it must be discouraging when you’re singing your heart out to ten people, and seven of them are plastered, while the other three have their noses buried in their cell phones. I can’t speak from personal experience, but over the years I’ve talked to a lot of great performers after a slow night. It might be a paying gig, but the money for original music isn’t great, and a troubadour’s life can be discouraging. Two of my younger colleagues are out on the road right now. Christina Hutt is out in BC, and James Gray is on tour in Switzerland. Christina just finished recording background vocals on the song Watch For Wolves, which I co-wrote with Sean Cotton and my wife Shauna, and then she hopped on the ViaRail train to do a transcontinental gig from Toronto to Vancouver. Now she’s out west for a few weeks and I’m sure she will delight those who have the opportunity to hear her sing. I hope it is a successful trip for her.  James has done several tours abroad as well as one tour of Australia with my friend Gina Horswood.  

As I began writing this report Sunday, I sat out on the front porch watching the remains of the day slowly fade to purple. I am not ready for summer to be over, but over it will be, before the next report comes out.  Do you ever feel like you're not making the best use of your time?  I do, all the time. One of the things I'm going to try to do is attend more live concerts.

Written By Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED