The Oppenheimer Report 1/31/11

The other night, I played an open mic in downtown Toronto, and afterwards I took the subway home. As I was riding in the almost empty car, with my guitar case propped up in front of me, a strange man came up and sat in the seat directly across from me. He looked bedraggled, as if he might live on the streets. His clothes were dirty and worn, his winter jacket was torn and taped up in many places, and he stared directly at me with eyes that were just a little too wide open. I don’t know why, but the crazy ones always single me out. He finally introduced himself to me, which I thought was rather odd. He said his name is Bruce, and then he pulled out what looked like an IPhone and took my picture. I remember thinking, “where does a homeless guy get an IPhone?” He said something about how musicians have a tough job, and he wanted a record of this hardworking musician (me), coming home weary after a long and thankless gig. I chuckled to myself. What a pile of crap! This guy thought I was a hard working/struggling musician, wearing my expensive Roots baseball jacket with the custom embroidery. Didn’t he know an old guy having a mid life crisis when he saw one? He must have been busting my chops. You meet some strange people on the subway in the wee hours of the morning. Just about the time I was sure he was going to lunge at me and bite me in the jugular vein or something, he simply got off at the next exit. No goodbye, nothin’. And I thought we were friends. Just another one of Toronto‘s early morning ghosts. I’m a little concerned about WHY he took a photo of me. He’s probably got a collection of the future victims he stalks, and the photos are his trophies. He’s like that serial killer Dexter on the HBO series, who collects blood samples from all his victims. Someday I will disappear but my ear will be mounted in a shadow box frame with that photo next to it, hanging on the wall of some godforsaken crevice of the Toronto subway, with a little bronze nameplate entitled “Hardworking Musician.”



Fitness guru Jack Lalanne died last week at 96. That guy was amazing; he did some crazy things on his birthday. Back in 1955, the year I was born, he swam from Alcatraz to Fisherman’s Wharf, handcuffed. That’s a really tough swim with one’s hands free. On his 70th birthday, he swam a mile towing 70 boats behind him filled with people. I remember seeing some of the video of that stunt. The way he took care of his body, I thought he would outlive the cigar-smoking George Burns or, at the very least, my father. In commemoration of his life well-lived, I watched one of Jack’s juicer infomercials the other day. What they don’t tell you about those things is that they make more noise than a jet engine. I remember watching Lalanne on television a long, long time ago, back in the Howdy Doody age of black and white television, and I remember thinking to myself even as a very little boy, “that guy is nuttier than a fruitcake.” I mean take-your-picture-on-the-subway crazy. And I remember his white dog. I wonder if he made that dog do push ups and drink carrot juice.



Finally, what is going on in Africa?! First Tunisia, then the news that Sudan may be dividing, and now Egyptians are calling for Hosni Mubarak to step down. Back when I subscribed to the now defunct National Lampoon Magazine, one of their writers referred to him as “HoseMe” Mubarak, which seems apt given his reputation for repression. This latest unrest reminds me a little of Iran when they threw out the Shah. Eventually, the 400,000+ Egyptian troops in the street, charged with taming the angry masses (62 reported dead so far) will come to terms with the fact that they’re backing the wrong horse and when, as I think he might, Mubarak finally steps down, it will be interesting to see what kind of Egypt emerges. I don’t know anything about Egyptian politics, and Egypt is a far cry from Iran, but could fundamentalism creep in? Will these events endanger Israel, and will Egypt remain an ally of the U.S.? After all, it was probably the billions in U.S. aid that allowed Mubarak to remain in power for 30 years and to rule with such an iron fist. This diplomacy and nation building business is tricky, isn’t it?



Well that’s about it, I’ve got to go to bed.  After all, we hardworking musicians need to get our rest. Here’s another subway scenario … he was a harmless, albeit eccentric TIME photographer doing a shoot on downtrodden musicians in Toronto subways, and I just happened to be the subject he chose to exploit. Am I now going to become famous like that homeless announcer guy Ted Whatshisname did? I can only dream.



Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED