The Oppenheimer Report - 12/26/16

Jacob Kriger is a young man who works at the Hunters Bay Radio station, and on top of hosting and teching much of the daytime programming at Hunters Bay Radio, he produces some very creative audio and video promotions for the station. Last Monday, I was called last minute to volunteer for radio bingo. As a joke, and because I knew it would make Jake laugh, I wore Shauna’s pink “Big Brother Canada” onesy to the station. I told everybody I had already changed in to my jammies when I answered the call to volunteer. If you’ve never heard of onesies, they are the one piece pajamas with feet that some of us wore as children, and they are very cozy. I think they are making a comeback among adults. I remember laughing when I saw rock star Gene Simmons wearing a onesy on his short-lived reality TV show Family Jewels. Anyhow, when I arrived at the station, in my pink onesy, Jake was in the process of creating a video for tonight’s special $4000 jackpot bingo giveaway. It did not occur to me that Jake might be filming me in my pink getup, but when I saw the finished video on the Hunters Bay Radio Facebook page the other day, there I was, in all my pink splendor. Another man might have been humiliated, but I have no shame. We have a lot of fun at that radio station.

As we approach the New Year, of course I am as worried about the future of mankind as the next man. Everything seems to be regressing; race relations, politics, religion. I can’t believe a woman’s right to have an abortion is again up for debate in America! I’ve got to stop watching the news, because the general message is that the world is coming apart at the seams. Most recently, and leading up to Christmas, there was the assassination of the Russian ambassador to Turkey by a Syrian terrorist. I woke up to that bad news and was astonished to see the murder video broadcast on CNN. Shortly thereafter, on December 19^th, there was the terrorist attack in Berlin that killed 11 people and injured over 50 others. Anis Amri, a 23 year-old Tunisian man and ISIS sympathizer, drove a hijacked truck into a Christmas market full of people in Berlin, escaped after the attack, and was later apprehended and killed. I watched an interesting segment on CNN called “What They Hate Us” about the Muslim extremists. I think hatred is self-propagating, but so is love. How do we combat ignorance and fear? Focus on the heroes I guess. They may not make the headlines but they are the best antidote to hatred. In that Berlin attack, there is evidence to suggest that the hijacked truck driver tried to grab the steering wheel from his hijacker before he was killed. During the 9-11 attacks the courageous passengers on Flight 93 fought back and kept the terrorists from hitting their designated target in Washington, D.C. That heroic action probably saved a lot of lives. There are a lot of good people in the world, we just don't hear much about them.     

I will leave it to the pundits and the newscasters to pass judgment on the notable events of 2016 but let it suffice to say this was not a banner year for good news.  I suppose it has always been this way; the press reports that the sky is falling, and the world keeps spinning on its axis regardless. While I worry about the future, the fact is that I rely too much upon our leaders to fix our problems. I will usher in 2017 as I have the last few years, quietly at home watching TV with my wife Shauna. At midnight we’ll give each other the first kiss of the New Year, hug each other, and hope for peace and prosperity in the world. And I will make the same New Years resolution this year that I made last year, and the year before that:  to be a better person. Happy New Year to my twelve loyal readers!   

“When I look in the mirror, I see a broken plan

I see the aimless wandering, I see a selfish man

And I ask myself, how can I begin to make this better?”   

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED      

The Oppenheimer Report 12/19/16

Saturday afternoon, I listened to Tony’s Rockin’ Shindig on our local radio station. Tony Clement is our local Member of Parliament here in the Muskoka region, and he hosts his show one Saturday of each month. He’s probably the most high profile radio host we have at the station, as he’s in on television quite a lot, commenting about the latest political issues in Ottawa. Tony takes the time to research his artists, and his show, which focuses on rock ‘n roll, is always interesting and informative. In last week’s show he featured offbeat Christmas songs, and he played a lot of songs I’d never before heard. In this past week, I’ve heard a lot of interesting Christmas songs on “The Bay” (a/k/a Hunters Bay Radio); songs which I’d never heard before. I prefer the darker Christmas songs, and I listened to one the other day that I liked enough to feature in my own Lyrical Workers show. The song is entitled “Christmas Is Upon Us”, by a Massachusetts punk rock band called The Dropkick Murphys. It’s about the dysfunction of Christmas family gatherings, and it made me laugh. In my show last week, I played “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” performed by Elmo Shropshire and his then wife Patsy, a/k/a Elmo and Patsy. Written by Elmo’s friend Randy Brooks, the song has been a favorite of mine since it was released in 1979.

Last Friday night, I performed five of my original songs at the Burk’s Falls Legion during the monthly 3^rd Friday Coffee House. In that performance, to about 60 or 70 people, I played one of my dark Christmas songs, “Merry Christmas To Me”, and that was the first time I have ever played that song in public. Somewhat autobiographical, the song refers to an experience I had as a teen, wherein my cousin, my best friend, and I hitched to downtown Buffalo to go to a party hosted by a notorious local pot dealer. It was Christmas Eve, and we were picked up by two guys, dressed up as Santa and an elf, driving a very beat up red Ford Van. We were probably somewhat intoxicated, but Santa and the elf decidedly had us beat. Santa was drinking Jack Daniels out of the bottle, and both he and the elf were smoking a joint. Keep in mind, this was the Seventies, and around the holiday season I’ll wager that half of Buffalo was driving around intoxicated. There’s actually an internet meme about the unique ability of Western New Yorkers to drive drunk in snowstorms. At sixteen or seventeen, my ability to make wise decisions had not yet even begun to develop and, happy to be out of the cold, we hopped into the van without a second thought. I don’t remember much about the ride downtown, although we were riding in a dilapidated, rear wheel drive van, with no shocks, in a snowstorm, with a very drunk and stoned driver dressed up like St. Nick.  We made it to the party unscathed, and there I remember drinking a lot of really crappy pink wine. Back in the 70’s, Pink Catawba wine from some Upstate New York State winery was a popular cheap wine in Western New York.  Along the lines of Mad Dog 20/20, or Ripple, or Boone’s Farm, Pink Catawba was sweet, rotgut swill that tasted a bit like ginger ale. In keeping with my severely under-developed ability to make wise decisions, I guzzled about five or six big glasses of Pink Catawba rotgut, and probably drove the porcelain bus at some point in the evening. Another thing I remember about that night - and keep in mind I had only recently been exposed to marijuana - was that someone was walking around with a salad bowl full of joints, passing them out to guests like hors d’ouevres. As a sixteen year-old kid, I had never seen so much weed in one place. In the song, which I probably wrote in my mid-30s, I took poetic license and embellished the story for effect. The subject of the song was a loser adult (not like me!), Santa and the elf were drunk, stoned, and high on hallucinogenic drugs, and the story ends with the loser staggering around in the snow at 3AM “wondering where the hell to call home.” While many of my songs include kernel of personal experience; the trick is to make the message universal. I also played another original song during that Burk’s Falls performance, which I have only just completed. It’s about an old friend of mine who had at one point in his life had ended up in prison due to drug addiction. I recently heard from him, now clean and sober for sixteen years, and he seems to have put his life back on track. “Old friends are the hardest to deny/Because Old friends know the secrets that we hide.”

If you plan to imbibe this holiday season, and many of you will, let a designated driver or a cab be your ride home. May your holidays be blessed with peace, good health and, of course, good music!

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 12/12/16

Everybody has at least one recipe they can call their own, something no one else knows how to make as well as they do. For some people it’s scrambled eggs, for others it’s a secret barbecue sauce. For my father it was boiled water. My mother had a potato salad recipe handed down from her mother, and it is the best I’ve ever tasted. My wife Shauna makes a chicken dish she claims was sent to her telepathically by her deceased grandmother, and I love that dish. I suppose I could learn how to make some of these special recipes, but that would spoil the mystery. Somehow it never tastes the same when it isn’t made by the original cook/baker. I prefer to have it served to me and to live with the illusion that no one save for the original cook could make it just the same.

My claim to fame is granola. I’ve been making granola for at least 30 years and I think I’ve finally perfected it. The trick is in the oven temperature. You might say granola isn't a big deal! Let me tell you something; the older I get, the more obsessed I become with my lower intestine. I’m a regular guy, and I have become increasingly concerned with insuring I stay that way.  Cereal with lots of oats and fiber-rich grains keeps the plumbing clear. I’ve spent a little more time with geriatric nurses than I care to admit, and one of many the things I learned is that keeping the pipes clean is fundamental to good health. Believe it or not, bowel obstruction is a common cause of death in nursing homes.

Last summer, I went to one of the snootier boutique food stores in Huntsville, the one that caters to all the wealthy “citiot” cottagers who come up from Toronto. After I bought my over-priced apple, I browsed the aisles to peruse the fancy over-priced foods available for sale, and I began to experience sticker shock! A rather small bag of “homemade” (whose home, by the way?) pasta was $7.99, but the thing that really floored me were the granola prices. I half-considered buying a small bag of snooty store granola that looked enticing, until I saw the price. A very small bag was close to ten bucks! On principle (read, I’m way too cheap), I did not buy it. I read the ingredients on the back of the package, figuring maybe there was some remarkably expensive nut or berry that could justify the high price, but in fact, it was simply over-priced granola. If you’re going to charge ten bucks for a bag of granola, give me more than four helpings!  Even with expensive nuts (I put cashews and almonds in my granola) and honey, I can make the equivalent of ten cereal boxes of granola for under twenty bucks.

There was a story on the news the other night about the rising cost of food in Canada, and the growing pressure on Canadian food banks. There is speculation that the imminent leadership change in America may not bode well for the future cost of food produced in the States. If Rump runs all the illegal immigrants out of America, some wonder who will harvest the crops? I don’t think Rump will do what he so adamantly proclaimed he would. He’s backed off a lot of his other campaign vows and there’s no reason to suggest he will abide by this one. Still, if he does, how will that impact the economy? Right now in Huntsville there are numerous holiday drives going on to fill the larders of local food banks. Shauna and I make a generous annual contribution to the local food bank, and in general I have begun to redirect my charitable contributions to local charities. I’m beginning to realize that my contributions made to local charities are far more likely to be efficiently used than my contributions to bigger charities, the ones that send out four direct mail requests per year and spend countless millions sending out pens, calendars, and return address stickers.

Does anyone else find it ironic that we live in a time when we can video conference with people across the globe on a cell phone, but we are destroying our drinking water and our food supply is dwindling. Granola for ten bucks a bag. Jeesh.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 12/5/16

This morning, I heard on the radio that some experts in the field of aeronautics are warning that unmanned drones may become a potential terrorist threat. I guess it stands to reason that if we are using drones to fire missiles at terrorist targets, that perhaps they might consider fighting fire with fire. Drone technology is readily available to the general public; I’ve seen them advertised at the local electronics store. Years ago, I’d commented in one of these reports that I was concerned someone might use drone technology to launch an assault on North American soil. Imagine an unmanned drone flying over a Superbowl stadium, or perhaps the Macy’s Day Parade, or the ball drop in Times Square, and the havoc that it could wreak. How do we defend against these things if they become a part of our daily routine? The other day there were two stories in the news about drones. One suggested that an unmanned drone may have forced a commercial aircraft to take evasive action, and the other reported that Amazon.com is considering using drones to deliver packages. I don’t look forward to the day when the sky is littered with those things buzzing around.

I watched part of a movie the other day called Eye In The Sky, starring Helen Mirren and the late Alan Rickman, and it dealt with the complicated issues surrounding the rules of military engagement for drone attacks. Collateral damage is of course the major concern, and as accurate as some of these attacks may be, there is usually collateral damage. My first reaction, when I turned the movie on, was that I wasn’t interested in seeing another movie about war, but this one captured my interest. What amazed me most was the depiction of the state of the art surveillance technology currently available. In the movie, there were two spy drones used, one was in the shape of a small bird and the other looked like a beetle. I don’t know if these devices exist in the real world, but the remote controlled beetle employed nanotechnology and was small enough to avoid detection. In one scene, the operator flew the beetle into a house to spy on terrorists. It gives new meaning to the expression “big brother is watching.”

After watching the movie, I was curious to consult the ever-reliable internet for information about drone attacks carried out by the U.S. By most accounts, President Obama has authorized more drone attacks than any other U.S president, and while the general understanding is that the use of drones saves lives, in fact what is not clear is the collateral damage. Depending on which spin doctor I consult the estimates range between 2% and 25%. The older I get the more out of touch I feel I am with what is going on in the world. I suppose I never really knew, but I used to believe what I heard on the news, and thus convinced myself I was informed. These days, with our President elect tweeting like a spoiled child, and the seeming fragmentation of the European Union, I am more apprehensive. War these days looks a little different than it did a few decades ago. Now, I’m going to be looking everywhere for hidden cameras.

For the past several months, I have been imploring people who listen to my radio show Lyrical Workers and to send me their song requests. Up until last week, the response has been weak. I’ve had the odd suggestions from friends and family, but not a lot of interest. This past week, I decided to post a photograph of Chuck Berry from my late brother-in-law’s photo collection, and with that photo I made another request for song suggestions. So far I’ve had eight requests and there are still four days until show time. I’ll be looking for bizarre Christmas songs as the day draws near. Final music notes:  Just received the mastered copies of two songs I recorded with producer/ singer/songwriter James Gray, and I am very pleased with the results. I think I will release them to Hunters Bay Radio soon, and hopefully they will broadcast them. As with all of my music, I haven’t really pushed it in the general marketplace. My feeling is that my music will simply get lost in the ever increasing pile of music no one has time to hear. For the time being, my CD is available at the HBR station, or through me. I am fortunate to have a songwriter-friendly radio station in my community, and I choose to give all the proceeds from the sale of the CD to Hunters Bay Radio. If there is any wider interest in my songs great, but for now, I am content if my music helps to shine a light on this great little radio station. This Thursday night, before my show, Christina Hutt, local singer/songwriter, has asked me to accompany her when she performs live on the radio from 6-7pm. Then a week Friday, I’ll be playing the Burk’s Falls 3^rd Friday Coffee House. Woohoo, Nashville, here I come!

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/28/16

I recently found myself craving some retro TV, and I PVR’d (I’ve created a new verb) an old show I remember from my early youth: The Rifleman, starring Chuck Connors. Some of you are old enough to remember him playing the tough-but-fair-single-father and vigilante, Lucas McCain, whose wife probably died in a gun-related accident, and whose family later went on to found a French fried potato empire in Canada. My friends and I used to call him “Mucous” McCain, and my favorite part of the show was, hands down, the opening credits. You knew right away that Mucous was one “bad ass mo-fo” because he glared at the camera while he indiscriminately fired off his rifle walking down the main street of town. The townsfolk in Mucous’s town must have run for cover whenever he was around, because he seemed a little reckless with that rifle. I can sum up the plot of every episode of The Rifleman as follows: the bad guys rode into town, Lucas wrestled with his inner demons and the seemingly irreconcilable conflict of his gunslinger and law-abiding personalities. Inevitably, he ended up vastly outnumbered in a gunfight, slaughtering all the villains with his Wild West version of an AK47. The whole show was a send up to Mucous pureeing a bunch of bad guys with his lightning fast, repeat action Winchester. The filler in the middle was absolutely ludicrous. I began to think about some of the other TV shows I watched when I was younger. Actress Florence Henderson just passed away last week, and she played the mom in the hit sitcom The Brady Bunch. I remember how clean cut everyone was in that show. It seemed as if TV reality was more overtly manipulated back in the 60s and 70s. I found it somewhat ironic that actress Maureen McCormick, who played eldest daughter Marcia on the show, wrestled with substance abuse through much of her adult life. Another show which highlighted the difference between television and reality was Dragnet. I liked Dragnet then and I LOVE it now. The monotone dialogue and the deadpan acting is hilarious, and I can’t help thinking the producers knew the show was silly. There was one episode in particular that stands out in my memory. I think it was called “Blueboy” and it dealt with young people using LSD. Of course the young man who took LSD suffered some tragic end. You could argue that these shows were unrealistic depictions of life at the time, but I wonder what they tell us about the era in which they were produced. Why deify vigilantism? Why was divorce sanitized?

These days, nothing is as clear. Yes, there are wholesome sitcoms, but I’m also noticing a lot more fantasy and superheroes. And then there is the explosion of reality television. Reality television is a game changer; it is the car wreck from which I cannot turn away. Reality television is anything but, and the irony is glaring. Not too long ago, I watched part of a show about the struggles of some guy in a remote Arctic location. Here’s a guy in the middle of nowhere, and you know there’s a camera crew following him around. At some point in the show, the guy’s snowmobile breaks down many miles from his dwelling, and he has to walk home. Did the camera crew follow him home in a heated snow cat, or did they just go for hot cocoa? A lot of this reality crap focuses on the lowest common denominator of human behavior. We viewers love the villains, and the more atrocious the behavior the better. Fifteen years ago, I shrugged it off as an amusing dip in the quality of television entertainment, but now that it has woven itself into the fabric of our culture, it has I think become a troubling portent for the future.

If you doubt this, look at who just became President of the United States. Last weekend, Saturday Night Live was a repeat, and the original air date was shortly before the recent presidential election. Clearly no one on the SNL writing staff thought Trump had a cold chance in hell of winning the election, because the story about Trump’s misogynist rant with Access Hollywood host Billy Bush had just broken. To make the show even weirder, the guest host was Lin-Manuel Miranda, creator of the hit musical Hamilton. Most recently he is newsworthy for having admonished Vice President-elect Mike Pence, who had been in the Hamilton audience for one of the sold out shows, shortly after the election. In a world where social media and cell phones are the primary means of communication, a buffoon like Trump can prevail over an entire political and media empire. Makes you think, doesn’t it? OK, back to fantasy. Time to watch Andy Of Mayberry. That Barney cracks me up.    - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/21/16

What a difference a week makes! Last week, I took one last putt around the lake in the Porta-Bote, before putting the little outboard away for the season. As I drifted on the far end of the mirror-calm lake, the sun in the latter half of its day, I had a moment of sublime peace. That peace is ever elusive these days, and while we live in paradise, and my life is in most ways charmed, there is a lot of noise in my head right now. An omnipresent sadness and dread lurk just below the surface of every human encounter I’ve made this past week, and it just seems as if a lot of people have resigned themselves to the notion that “evil” has triumphed. Trump is President, Russia and the Syrian Government are bombing the life out of Aleppo, the Kardashians are still bafflingly newsworthy. As if all the troubles around the world are not enough, an unusual number of my musical heroes have checked out of the Shit Storm Hotel in 2016. Leonard Cohen in particular, the poet-songwriter and ambassador of love, who so eloquently taught us the complicated lessons of love, has betrayed us by proving to be mortal. Maybe it’s the Chicken Little press, or the preponderance of “how-can-you-not-see-this-is-the-end-of-the-world?!” conversations floating around, or the indignation of so many, I don’t know. It just seems to me as if it is up to us “the people” to extricate ourselves from this doom and gloom. If righteous indignation was a currency, North America would have an embarrassment of riches. Sure I’m worried, but here is my deeply meaningful, self-righteous, rationalization of the week.

“We have met the enemy and he is us!” How many times have I repeated this quote from the famous cartoon possum Pogo? For the almost twenty-five years since I began writing this report, I have, sometimes sarcastically, vented my righteous indignation about politicians, hate groups, spoiled celebrities, biased media, etc. etc. Still, what have I done to make the human condition better? Bupkiss. I’m part of the problem because, just like the whining masses in the streets bitching about Trump, I am indignant but ineffective. The real heroes of our society are invisible. Who cares about my friend Michelle, who works for Community Living and daily assists, respects, cares about her mentally challenged clients? Who notices the inspirational music teacher who mentored a dozen famous singers, or the fireman who contracted cancer when he dug through the ruins of 9-11 looking for survivors, or the policeman who was killed protecting an ungrateful community, or the volunteer who selflessly delivers meals to the homebound elderly, or ten million other good people? We live in a world full of unspeakable atrocities, and now that the information is more accessible than it ever used to be, indifference becomes our self-defense. We demand ever more sensational catastrophes of the human condition and, like we watch reality television, we stare numbed at the bad news like deer in the headlights. Is it really such a surprise that a “populist” like Donald Trump was elected? He had the ratings. We the people have met the enemy … and he is us (not them).

My songwriter friend Doug McLean posted a quote the other day that drives the point home. It had to do with the Holocaust, and how that atrocity was allowed to occur. Essentially, the message was that, in the environment of divisiveness, ignorance, indifference, complacency, and cowardice, horrible things like genocide can happen. I know a lot of people are fearful that history is again repeating itself; I’m afraid of this as well, but I haven’t given up on humanity. What I aspire to do is my part, in my community. This Thursday marks the American Thanksgiving, hands down my favorite holiday of the year. I miss my mom and dad a lot, and I miss the beautiful family gatherings they hosted every year. They were the glue that bound our family together, along with at least a few strays, and no matter how dysfunctional it is, there is no better microcosm for humanity than our immediate family. Turn the other cheek. Maybe I didn’t adore Uncle Fred, and his seemingly ignorant, backward comments, but I learned to accept him. I am thankful for my good fortune, and most of all for the wonderful people whom I have been fortunate enough to know and love. All I can do is pay it forward, and hope that love triumphs over hate. Of late, I have begun to view the friends in my community as my family. Don’t leave it for someone else to fix this. Tolerate, listen, heal, understand; love. You can’t fix everything, but you can help. To all my American family and friends, Happy Thanksgiving!!         

                                             - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/14/16

Over the past 25 years since I began writing this weekly report, I have had more than one cynical, opinionated, off-color thing to say about politicians. It would be easy to spew today, less than a week after the election that surprised so many. Goodness knows, I’ve read and heard plenty of spewing about Donald Trump over the past weeks, but I have nothing to say that I have not already said about the man. Over the past few months, I’ve been offering my unsolicited opinion about the Trump phenomenon, just as the rest of you have. After he ran away with the Republican primaries, I was deeply concerned that his unlikely ascendance to the highest office in the country was becoming more and more likely. To me, that spoke to the nation’s largely unrecognized discontent. Now, as the world lets out a collective gasp of fear and indignation, I reprise a letter I wrote to an old friend, who expressed her despondency the day after last Tuesday’s election results…

11/9/16 Dear C,  I am a diehard Republican, but I crossed party lines to vote for Hillary this time. While I am terribly worried about what a Trump presidency may foretell, I am somewhat philosophical at this point.

We all know Washington is broken. The Wall Street debacle in 2008 was an outrageous abomination, as was the Savings and Loans scandal in the 1980s. Buy now, pay later. Business as usual led us to a $30 Trillion deficit and there is no indication that a Clinton presidency was going to do anything but exacerbate that problem. The stock market was supposed to tank today, and it did not. Today, black is white, and white is black. I do not know what the future will be, but I’m not jumping ship yet. I am still an American citizen and I still love my country, in its entirety.

This election was a shot across the bow of democracy; Americans have been living in a house of cards for decades, and sooner or later the shit was going to hit the fan. I have despised Trump for 40 years, since my days at Saperston Real Estate. His arrogance and lack of class or grace goes against everything I believe in. But he is a shrewd business man and hopefully he knows how to put a team together. My slim hope is that he will achieve what no other leader has recently done: put the country back on track. Hatred and bigotry are alive and well in America – Trump did not invent them - he simply used them to get where he needed to be. The man is a shameless opportunist, and always has been. He effectively tapped into the lowest common denominator of human behavior to get where he needed to go, and I do not believe the entire block of the electorate that voted him in is stupid or hateful. You may find that, for all his toxic rhetoric, the growing constituency of disgruntled Americans who feel betrayed by their government will come together, and all this nonsense about walls and Islamophobia will simply evaporate. That is my hope anyway. He will have to dial his crap back now if he wants to achieve anything in Washington, and perhaps he will do some of the constructive things he claims he will – untangle the tax code, disassemble the deplorable campaign financing system, re-negotiate our trade deals and bring jobs back to America. Regardless of what his perceived “beliefs” are – and we don’t really know -  if he restores ANY prosperity to this foundering country, the results will be good. If he doesn’t make good, is he any different from the career politicians? 

This seemingly horrible development may in fact be exactly what democracy is. You can argue about the unfairness of the electoral college or that only the haters were heard, but he won, fair and square, and against all odds. If I can forget the asshole Trump is and look at what happened, democracy worked. He didn’t buy the vote; look at the machine against which he prevailed. It’s nothing short of remarkable. Bernie couldn’t fight Hillary’s machine, even though we all know he was the people’s choice. The DNC was not going to let a socialist run against the elephants (and presumably lose). Trump is not beholding to PACS and he is as much a threat to the Republicans as he is to the Democrats. He shrewdly tapped into the disgust over the status quo, and found his majority. Americans decisively voted for change, and whether or not it was the right decision, it may mean there is hope. His success or failure as a president is a question for the history books. My hope, however tenuous, is that this lightening rod for controversy will now settle down and Trump the blowhard will turn into a conduit for much-needed reform. Maybe, just maybe, he can put together a plan to unify this completely divided nation. I see the same hatred you see – but you might be surprised to hear some of the things JFK said and did, and he was much loved during his presidency. Sadly, hypocrisy is an almost constant by-product of the political system.

Pollster, predictors, media, politicos, spin doctors … America rejected all of them, and all the money on both sides could not bring this guy down. To me, that is hopeful. Trump is not a puppet of the Koch brothers. Maybe, if he can accomplish this unimaginable feat, he can make the positive changes that will help right the ship of state. In fact he is no worse than the partisan bastards that make up our Congress right now. The team he picks will be telling. That is my concern right now. Despise the man, by all means, but focus on the possible good that can come from all this. I’m as lost and fearful as the rest of the world, but Donald Trump did not create the mess we’re in. We, our complacency, and the officials we elected did. Imagine what would happen if half the money we lost on campaign financing and un-collected taxes was diverted to low income housing or to feeding the poor. When America is most down and out, that is when she shines. This may be the wake-up call that brings the pendulum back to center. I do not think this is the end of the world, only time will tell. One thing is for sure: we Americans need to wake up and see our part in the big picture. Sometimes democracy is not pretty.

Be well my friends!  Jamie

RIP  singer/songwriters  Leonard Cohen (82) and Leon Russel (76).

   - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/7/16

As Remembrance Day approaches this Friday, I have probably purchased three or four poppies in the past week. I have yet to properly fasten one of those things to any garment I own, and usually manage to skewer myself at least once or twice. Perhaps a little prick of pain is a fitting way to remember the men and women who have sacrificed so much for our collective freedom. While I worry about the state of the world today, and am as disheartened as the next American about the up and coming Presidential election tomorrow, I am still hopeful and comforted by the (possibly deluded) notion that we North Americans enjoy freedoms that most of the rest of the world cannot imagine. I am thankful to every generation of veterans for their service, and I express my gratitude locally by making several donations to the local Burk’s Falls Legion over the year.

When I was a sullen teen, my parents employed a cleaning lady named Mel, and her son Richard used to pick her up after work. Richard was a Viet Nam vet, and though he was a little shy, we developed an odd friendship which originated around cars. Richard owned a “sleeper”, which in drag racing circles means a car which does not look as fast as it is. Richard’s car was a hopped up Cougar XR7 with a supercharged V8. That motor developed well over 500 HP and was geared for drag racing. The car was intentionally painted to look as if it was done by a child - orange with black leopard spots - and it definitely did not look like something that would hit 0-60 in under 4 seconds. I took several rides in this thing and it was probably the fastest car I’ve ever been in. The acceleration off the line could snap your neck. He used to take it down to Fuhrman Blvd. and race other hot rodders for pink slips. Fuhrmann Boulevard was at the time Buffalo’s unofficial drag strip, because it featured numerous exits for escaping the cops. Richard told me that he and “The Leopard” had won a few cars down there. We had an unusual relationship, not just because I was a spoiled young teenager, and his family was several rungs below mine on the social ladder, but also because I was a naïve kid, and he was a war vet. I met a few of Richard’s friends, many of them also veterans, and they looked as if they'd been through a war. While Richard and I never talked much about his experiences in Viet Nam, I know he’d seen combat, and that he was affected psychologically by what he’d done and seen. It was obvious. The Viet Nam War was troublesome on so many levels, because the mission was ambiguous and it came to represent one of the worst and most devastating failures of U.S foreign policy. As happened to so many vets from every generation of war, many of the Viet Nam vets came home with PTS, and to a population that did not understand or appreciate their sacrifice. I don’t know what happened to Richard, or if he is still on this earth, but he was my personal reminder of the ravages of war. I have never been a history buff, but I do know that war is hell. I try never to forget this or to take my freedom for granted.  Not every vet was a decorated hero, not all of them sacrificed their lives, but in my opinion, they are all worthy of my respect.

I feel the same about Remembrance Day as I do about Thanksgiving or Christmas: it shouldn't just be  for one day that we honor our vets, any more than it should be for only one day that we are thankful or charitable or kind. Maybe it’s because we have so much more “information” than we used to, but it seems to me as if the world is becoming an ever more dangerous place than it used to be. I’m not as worried about some fringe group of religious extremists in the Middle East as I am of the misdirection of a super power. We should never forget the lessons of the past, and we should never forget the sacrifices we depend upon from our soldiers, both at home and abroad. I’ll try to remember them the next time my internet service is slow, or the chainsaw won’t start, or someone cuts me off on the highway. Little problems. I think the best way can honor our veterans is to do a better job of appreciating and respecting the freedoms for which they fought.    

   - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The OppenheimerReport 10/31/16

Halloween used to be a big deal for me. When I was in college, not “in university” as the Canadians say, we used Halloween as an excuse to recruit new members to my fraternity. Actually, it was really a “fratsority” as we were the only fully co-ed chapter of Delta Kappa Epsilon nationwide. We almost lost our charter because of this. We had a pumpkin carving party for new recruits and it was usually quite successful. Every year, we threw the best Halloween party on campus, and we always had a kickass live band. Almost every year, from the time I was a little boy until I was in my mid-thirties, I dressed up as something for Halloween.

In my “adult” years, that costume was, by necessity, beer friendly, and one of my favorite masks was a disgustingly orange latex pig mask. I got a lot of mileage out of that mask, which was ingeniously designed so as not to impair one’s ability to guzzle beer.

One magical Halloween weekend back in the eighties, a friend of mine threw a bus party. He rented a school bus and a driver, and he invited thirty or forty guests (including me) to join him, in costume, as we travelled around to various bars in Buffalo. This bus party was, hands down, the best Halloween party I have ever attended. We essentially transformed each bar we invaded into a wild Halloween party, and as the night wore on, it got funnier and funnier. There was a famous TV star among the party goers, but no one outside of the party knew who he was, because he was in disguised in full clown make-up. Of course there was a pre-lubrication party to get us all loosened up, and there was heavy drinking on the bus as well. By the time we’d hit the first couple of bars we were all fairly inebriated, and we were clearly a force to be reckoned with. I was dressed as a “Sabre-ette”, one of the short-lived Buffalo Sabres cheerleaders. I wore blue spandex tights, a vintage Buffalo Sabres tee shirt stuffed with balloons, and a giant blonde wig. I spent a long time putting on my make-up, which was rather a waste of time because, after a few drinks, I looked like a train wreck. One of the things I’ve noticed about Halloween costumes is that, when combined with alcohol, they make the wearer exponentially more impervious to shame. The last four or five bars we attended were a complete blur, and by the end of the evening, I looked more like a zombie than a cheerleader. By then, I was flat-chested, my make-up was smeared all over my face, my wig was on backward, and I was covered in mud and snow. It was the perfect Halloween transformation and, I think, a successful outing.

I threw and attended some good Halloween parties back in the eighties. I made a tuna fish costume one year; I was Abe Lincoln after he as shot, I was a dead lawyer, Toto from The Wizard Of Oz,and once, I was a very ugly go-go dancer. I even made custom go-go boots. Note to self, panty hose are terribly uncomfortable for men. As much as I have always enjoyed Halloween, there is the dark side to the celebration. Sometimes the trick part of the trick or treat borders on destructive. There have been recent reports on the news about homicidal clowns, and sometimes the lines of acceptable/mischievous behavior get blurred. The other day, my friend Grant Nickalls recounted a story on air about his early teen years wherein he did something on Halloween of which he was later ashamed. I remember reports of apples handed out with razor blades, and tainted candy, and once, about three doors from our house in Buffalo, I and several of my friends were mugged and robbed of our candy by a gang of thugs. Our house was egged, and more than once we had our windows marked with candle wax (much harder to remove than soap). Halloween has a dangerous side to it and some people revel in the more nefarious aspects.

   

I was talking with fellow songwriter Sean Cotton last week at the Burk’s Falls 3^rd Friday Coffee House, and he told me he is producing a musical in November, featuring local musicians. Entitled The Cat’s Cradle and using the songs of 70s songwriters like Harry Chapin, Jim Croce, Cat Stevens, and Carol King, Sean has written a story line around the songs to be performed by local artists. Sounds interesting. As Sean requested, I will feature some of these songwriters on my show Lyrical Workers this Thursday night.

   - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 10/24/16

Quite a while ago, when I was perhaps 30 or 40 shows into my budding career as a radio host, I received my first fan mail from a listener in Mactier, Ontario. It came in the form of a text on a computer screen. At Hunters Bay Radio, there is a text line wherein listeners can text in requests to the station, or post comments, and DJs can read the texts on a monitor and respond if they so choose. One Thursday night, while I was doing my show, on came a message, responding to some self-deprecating remark I had just made on air. The message was very complimentary, and the sender represented himself as “Crisco the Soul Man” from Mactier. I don’t get a lot of fan mail; correction, I don’t get any fan mail, so I remembered this guy. Jump ahead to early last summer, when HBR had a gathering to commemorate the late James Carroll, and to dedicate a bench to him. Crisco showed up for the event, and I then had the opportunity to meet my one fan in person. Several months later, Crisco, a/k/a Chris Brown, began to make regular visits to the station on weekends. He brought coffee and baked goods to share, and most important, he brought with him some of his extensive collection of R&B, Soul, Funk, and Blues music to load into the HBR music library. A new volunteer was born.

Over the past several weeks, I have had the opportunity to get to know Chris a little better, and he is an interesting and entertaining fellow. He is older than I am, has been a soul/R&B drummer and singer for many years, and has played around Toronto in I think more than one band. In his travels he has met some famous musicians. He’s now been a guest on several HBR radio shows, introducing our listeners to some of the lesser known soul and R&B acts about which he seems well informed. Community radio is all about informing the public, and I’ve found his commentary very interesting. Get him started and he can talk for hours about the origins of the legendary STAX Music label, or the back story behind a certain obscure soul band from the 60s or 70s. His knowledge and his passion for the music he loves is contagious, and it is that same enthusiasm for good music that first drew me to the radio station. I have a lot of friends who are music lovers, and it is their collective influence that has broadened my horizons. Presently, Shauna’s almost 92 year-old mom Ethel is hosting a show broadcast on Sunday nights entitled “Martini Music” and this was one of the many shows that James Carroll used to host. Never a big fan of crooner music, I have grown to appreciate it more in the past few years. Some of the songwriting and musical arrangements are exceptional, and it has definitely influenced my song writing.

There is no shortage of good music and songwriting in the world today, old and new. The problem is, not all that much of it is being broadcast on mainstream radio. Little community and campus radio stations are the only ones carrying the torch. With the advent of satellite radio, subscribers listen to the genre of music they choose, and nothing else, which is, I think, problematic. On my show, I try to feature a wide variety of songs in all genres, and from all eras. My reasoning is that good songs are timeless. You may not appreciate the Cole Porter tune I play, that precedes the Procal Harum rock classic I also like, but the show is about songs that have influenced me as a songwriter. If you listen to my new CD Imposters Game, you will hear how those many different styles have influenced my music. Had I not been exposed to many different styles of music, I could never have written this album, or would I have written the other 130 songs I have so far written. My favorite music used to classic rock ‘n roll, but over the years, my tastes in music have changed to include Rockabilly, Bluegrass, Texas Swing, Blues, Soul, Jazz, Reggae, some Country, Punk, New Wave, and many other styles. Opera and Rap not so much, yet.  In much the same way as cell phone texting and emails have eroded the art of written communication, so has satellite radio and short-attention-span commercial radio done a disservice to diversity, and to new, original creators of music.

I watch many of my musician friends struggle to make ends meet, and there seems to be a trend away from attending live concerts in smaller venues. Festival attendance in many venues is down, and the music business has been upended in the past two or three decades. That has had negative ramifications for the artists who rely on touring to earn a living. Perhaps in the near future, no one will attend live concerts, because everyone will elect to watch live feeds on their computers. I will be forever grateful to Hunters Bay Radio and stations like it, who broadcast live acts, feature under-recognized local talent, and act as a conduit for gifted artists who want to be heard. We have a good team of music lovers who volunteer at Hunters Bay Radio, and they keep the flame alive by presenting what they like to hear, not what some corporation dictates they play. Welcome aboard Crisco, nice to have another well-informed music lover on the team!

   - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 10/17/16

Back in 2011, when my father was nearing the end of his life in Buffalo, my family considered enlisting the services of hospice for him, but the hospice facility in Buffalo was quite a distance from our home. Instead, we elected to care for Dad at home during his final months, with around-the-clock nurses. Fortunately, several nurses on our team had hospice training, and these nurses are worth their weight in gold. For those unfamiliar with the organization, the hospice directive is to allow the terminally ill patient to pass on with as much comfort and tranquility as possible. No extreme measures are made to keep the patient alive, and all focus is on pain management and a peaceful transition. Hospice allows families to spend their last days with their loved one, in a peaceful, quiet environment, free of the cacophony and indignity that so often accompanies a hospital or health care facility. It is an invaluable service, but you only realize this when you need it. I have spent a lot of time in hospitals over the past six or seven years, and the experience has changed me. The most noticeable change is that I have grown much more sensitive to the challenges that healthy caregivers face, be they friends or family. No matter who lobbies for your health care, and especially wherein terminal illness is concerned, the experience is life changing. My dad passed on peacefully in the comfort of his own home, of old age, and surrounded by love and excellent health care. So did my mom, albeit with the obvious complications that come with Lewy Body dementia. I am thankful my sister and I made the decisions we did to allow Mom and Dad to live out their lives in their own home. Still, there were many difficult decisions that came up, and it was helpful to have some professional guidance. My father-in-law was essentially in a coma for the last several months of his life, in a hospital in Toronto, and our health care decisions on his behalf were complicated and heart-rending. His last days were spent in the Veterans wing of Sunnybrook Hospital, which was somewhat akin to the hospice experience. I was so very relieved that his last days were not spent in the stroke ward of Sunnybrook Hospital.  If you’ve ever spent one day there, let alone three months, as we did, and you will know what I mean.

During the short period of time that our friend James Carroll was residing at the Huntsville Hospice, I had an opportunity to see how beneficial this organization is. The facility is beautiful and everyone working there is professional and helpful. At a difficult time, the environment was calm and peaceful. Shortly after James passed on last spring, I stopped by the facility to drop off some unused medical supplies from James’ apartment, thinking perhaps hospice could use them. When I walked up to the front door, I noticed my friend and fellow singer songwriter Jamie Clarke, sitting outside with some other people. I learned that his father was gravely ill and residing in the facility. Shortly after his dad passed away, Jamie posted a message that he was organizing a benefit concert for hospice. In the message he reminded us that this facility was reliant on private funding and required the support of the community. I’m certain Jamie think felt grateful for the services hospice had provided to him and his family, and he wanted to pay it forward.

Last Saturday night, we attended that benefit concert at the Algonquin Theatre in Huntsville. It was a great show played to a full house. The first act was Julian Taylor with a bandmate from the Julian Taylor Band, performing an acoustic set. In the “long story” department, Julian’s sister is named after my wife Shauna Leigh. I’m a fan of this award-winning songwriter, and had a few minutes during intermission to chat with him. Next up was Jamie with his band Myrle, featuring his multi-talented producer, and well known Canadian singer songwriter Ron Hawkins. I’ve become a huge fan of Ron Hawkins’ songwriting over the past several years, and he did a great job producing Jamie’s last album “A Dozen Hearts”. What Jamie did Saturday night was a big deal. Many musicians these days are struggling to make a name for themselves, in an ever more competitive market. Jamie and his bandmates put together a great show, pro bono, and raised over $20,000 was raised for Huntsville Hospice. As I have said so many times before, we live in a great community, full of talented and generous musicians.

   - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 10/10/16

Today is the Canadian Thanksgiving, and most of the cottagers on our lake will now pull up their docks, drain the pipes, and head home until next season. Within a week or so, this lake will be empty of its inhabitants, and I love it up here when everyone goes home. A city boy most of my life, I have grown to enjoy the solitude up here in the fall and winter. I can motor around on our little lake in my dinghy without seeing another soul. One of my favorite pass times is to putt around in the nearby Magnetawan River, with my voice recorder in hand, reciting ideas for song lyrics and Oppenheimer Reports. “What’s up with adult diapers … is our incontinence so severe that we really need to wear something that will absorb a litre of Coke?” With no distractions, this is a perfect atmosphere in which to create and write.

There was a commercial on television the other day that made me laugh, partly because it was intended to be funny, but also because it made me think about the competitive field of acting. In it, a woman in an office is plagued by some kind of bowel disorder, personified by a skinny woman in a silly red wig, and wearing a beige unitard featuring a diagram of the human intestinal tract. The bowel disorder follows the victim everywhere, preventing her from going about her normal daily routine. I can just hear this young actress referencing this part in her resume: “And I was the woman who played “diarrhea” in that bowel disorder medication commercial.” Not every actor is offered the part of Macbeth, and I’m sure that there are many actors who make a good living personifying sponge towels, or nostril debris, or painful rectal itch in TV commercials. Still, when you do make it big, won’t some of these jobs come back to haunt you? George Clooney got his big break in “Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes,” which I suppose is marginally better than playing “diarrhea” in a bowel disorder commercial. No matter how you slice it, show biz ain’t pretty.

I was amused to watch CNN’s coverage last Thursday night, as Hurricane Matthew began to hammer the Florida coast and points north. When the hurricane did not prove to be as newsworthy and devastatingly destructive as anticipated, they moved on to the next roadkill: Donald Trump, pilloried for an incriminating 12 year-old videotape, which conveniently surfaced shortly before yesterday’s town hall debate in St Louis, Missouri. In the tape, Trump can be heard making disturbing, vulgar, and predatory remarks about women, and bragging about sexual assault. While many have complained about Trump’s misogyny and sexual indiscretions before, this is the most outrageous recording to come out to date. It was disgusting, but then I started to think about all the insane drek this man has uttered so far, and I am astounded by his poll numbers. He called the incriminating videotape “locker room banter” but I think even his campaign manager must have done a double take when she heard this. Never having shown him much support, the Republican Party has virtually abandoned him now, and maybe that is a blessing for the Donald. If Trump wanted to upend the political system and call attention to all the hypocrisy of the campaign process, I think he has succeeded against all odds. Clearly, he has embarrassed the Republican Party, as well as the biased media which so overtly spins his nonsense in whatever direction they choose. He has managed to sway an embarrassingly large number of Americans to follow him, and what does this say about the state of the union? Are these people ALL stupid, or angry, or both? My worst nightmare has finally happened: reality television has in fact become reality. How can we pick better leaders, be more discriminating, when so many of us gravitate to the lowest common denominator of human behavior?! What does it say about us, or our faith in democracy, that as a nation we are prepared to vote in a bozo like Trump, simply because we think he’s better than the status quo? Is Trump the guy to fix our broken political system? I don’t think so.

Saturday was my 61^st birthday, and it was a beautiful day. Shauna, her 91 year-old mom, and I had a lovely dinner up in nearby Sundridge. I, of course, ate too much. Today, on the Canadian Thanksgiving, I am reminded of all my blessings, and am thankful for all the good friends and family I have known over these many years. I remember fondly the family gatherings in Buffalo during the American Thanksgiving, and in these strange times, I comfort myself with the notion that the love by which I have been surrounded over these past 61 years will be enough to weather the growing storm around me. For now, I look forward to one or two quiet fall days.      - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 10/3/16

Graphic Art by Shauna Leigh Taylor

A few months ago, I bought a new car, something I have been putting off for a year or two. I don’t enjoy what some consider the blood sport of negotiating to buy a new car. The old car had served me well, and was a fiftieth birthday present from my now deceased parents. For the sake of nostalgia, I would have kept it for a lot longer, but expensive things were starting to go wrong with it, and common sense dictated that I trade it in. The air conditioner failed, and this alone was going to be $3000 repair. I knew other expensive repairs were on the horizon, and since the car had been trouble free for ten years, I reasoned that it was time to quit while I was ahead.

 

The new car is very similar to the old one; it is the same size, it has a similar motor, but it is a little less fancy. I like the car, but there are a few things that bother me about it. In the ten years since I was in the market for an automobile, there have been a lot of electronic bells and whistles added. For instance, there is a lane departure warning feature, which makes the car vibrate when I change lanes without using my signal. That is annoying and I quickly disabled this feature. Sometimes it re-engages on its own, which is likely some kind of computer glitch. Then there are the automatic door locks. To unlock this keyless ignition car, one needs only grasp the door handle of one of the front doors to unlock it, but on the driver’s side, no matter what I do, this does not unlock the driver’s side passenger door. As well, the unlock feature does not always work properly, and I generally do not like touch sensor technology. The radio is a touch screen, which I find ridiculous. Give me manual knobs any day! If one inserts a CD in the player, it works until the car is turned off. When the car is re-started, one needs to eject and re-insert the CD in order for it to play. With every other car stereo I have ever owned, if I turn the car off while a CD is playing, when I start the car again, the CD starts playing again where it left off. In fact, the sound system on this car, while operable from the steering wheel, is complicated and user-unfriendly. Operating a cell phone while driving is illegal, and we are not supposed to be distracted when we drive, but simply operating this radio is a huge distraction! Same goes for the GPS. I have never liked touch screen technology, because sometimes it just doesn’t work. Touch screens can be affected by temperature change. Have you ever tapped the screen on your phone multiple times before your command registers? It happens to me all the time. Maybe I am legally dead. There is a backup camera, which is useful, if it is free of dirt. The camera is mounted in the rear bumper and road grime easily renders it unreadable. It all boils down to this: I didn’t see it coming but I’ve turned into the old fart who can’t use the remote. I know I’ve ranted about this many times before, but at some point, all these labor saving “improvements” become anything but. I don’t need or want all the bells and whistles. Give me a car, with a good, easy-to-use stereo, and keep all the electronic bullshit for someone else. I think back fondly to my 1967 Triumph Spitfire  (which I bought for $400) and its primitive design. Yes, the car was a British Leyland piece of crap, and the lights fluttered every time I went over a bump in the road, but it usually ran OK, it had great sound effects, I could tune it with a pen knife, and I could start it with a screwdriver if I lost the key. With driverless technology becoming a not-too-distant reality, all control will be left to computerized electronic parts. The more electronic stuff we pack into our vehicles, the more stuff that can go wrong, leaving us stranded in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think my pen knife is going to do me any good when the auto pilot malfunctions on the highway at 65MPH.
 

Last Wednesday, I released my first CD of original songs “Imposters Game” live on the Hunters Bay Radio show Talent On The Bay. I thank all the local folks who showed up at the studio to attend the interview and who offered me moral support. My interviewer was morning show host and good friend Grant Nickalls, and he put this very nervous interviewee at ease. Also interviewed was my producer, Juan Barbosa. I’ve been on the radio a lot in the past two years, and I don’t generally get too nervous about playing live, but this interview was different. For the first time ever in 35 years I am releasing my songs for public scrutiny. I think the interview went well, and as I said in previous reports, I feel good because I have finally presented some of my songs to the public. While I doubt my contribution will make much of an impact on the ever-expanding world of music.,I am proud to have done this, and now friends and family will be able to hear properly recorded examples of the songs I write.   - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 9/26/16

Last night, I travelled down to Bracebridge for a party to kick off the renovation of The Muskoka Foundry. Construction begins shortly to renovate the approximately 30,000 square foot high bay industrial facility, which an ambitious entrepreneur intends to convert into mixed use commercial and retail space. I was there as one of several representatives of Hunters Bay Radio, because when the project is complete, our little community radio station will have a satellite operation broadcasting out of this location. We do have a location in Bracebridge presently, but this new site will be a substantial improvement. A glassed-in HBR broadcast booth, centrally located in this prestigious commercial facility, will increase our exposure considerably. There were several musicians and bands featured at the event, including Kearney’s own Douglas McLean, playing some of his original songs, along with his wife Arlene. One of the scheduled acts was unable to perform, and Doug asked me if I would get up and play a few of my songs to fill in. I tried to weasel out of it, using the excuse that I did not have an instrument, but Doug smiled wryly at me and said, “No problem, you can use my guitar!” My throat closed up and I got that feeling one gets climbing the first rise of a roller coaster, but I did get up and play. Do one thing every day that scares you, and try to say “no” as little as possible. Unrehearsed, I got up in front of 200+ people and performed.

 

One of the good things about playing music to a bunch of people at a gathering such as this Foundry debut, is that very few guests are actually listening. Oftentimes professional musicians play venues and parties, where liquor is served, and more often than not, the crowd is talking and not really paying attention. If you’re a cover band playing crowd favorites, like “Sweet Home Alabama” you might get a rise out of the audience, but I am anything but that. My originals are not toe-tappers, and I am always aware of the audience to which I am playing. Long story short, I got up and did a short set of my songs, to an audience that would probably have preferred to hear Michael Jackson covers. I think I did ok for an impromptu performance; at least no one threw anything at me. Thanks to Hunters Bay Radio, there are a few people in the local community who may recognize the songs I played. The timing was good, because this Wednesday I officially release the “Imposters Game” CD live on air at HBR. I left the stage shaking, but exhilarated. The end of this rather self-indulgent story is that, after my set, Johnny Fay, the drummer for “The Tragically Hip” came up to me and shook my hand! He happened to be playing after me, drumming for the country band Grant Tingey and Hired Hand. I realize he was probably just being respectful and polite to a visibly nervous fellow performer, but that handshake meant the world to me. I was genuinely touched by this kind gesture, and it made me feel like a fellow musician.

 

On the subject of original performances, I read an interesting interview with one of my Canadian songwriting idols Jon Brooks, and in it Jon lamented the eroding respect much of the listening public shows for original singer songwriters. He talked about playing a gig one night, maybe in downtown Toronto, and after he did his sound check he went outside the club for a breath of fresh air. Keep in mind, Jon is an award winning songwriter who regularly sells out venues all over the world. A group of young men walked by the venue and one of them asked who was playing. Another looked inside, saw the stage set up with a couple of acoustic guitars, and sniffed, “It’s just some guy with a guitar.” I used to be one of those guys, and I never went to the acoustic singer songwriter shows. Unfortunately, some people assume that a stripped down performance will suck. The more I learn about the craft of songwriting, the more I appreciate the power of a simple acoustic performance. In a bare bones performance, there is nothing to hide the success or failure of a song. A strong song, presented without an elaborate arrangement, can be remarkably powerful. The day after tomorrow, I release the first CD I have ever made in the 35 years since I began to write songs. All I have ever done is compose on an acoustic guitar, but I have been listening and learning from the artists I admire. This album is not perfect, but it is an honest translation, recorded by a gifted musician and arranger, of the songs I have only ever before performed on an acoustic guitar. I am so happy to have finally done this, after so many years of dreaming about it. If you have the opportunity, tune into Hunters Bay Radio (huntersbayradio.com) and listen live on Tuesday night from 6-7PM as I release my first album of songs to the public. If you’re local, stop in and join me!

                        - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 9/19/16

One of the many things I love about doing a radio show dealing with songwriters is that it puts me back in touch with some people with whom I have not spoken in decades. Several of my high school classmates listen to the show on the internet occasionally, and each one of them has distinctive tastes in music. From time to time they give me suggestions for what to play on my show. One classmate, who now lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico just sent me a list of his 400 favorite songs. When I consult that list it brings back a lot of fond memories. Many of the songs on his hit list were tunes I listened to a long time ago and have not heard since. I’m sure some of those songs will end up in my show. Everyone knows someone who wrote an original song, and whether or not it’s a strong song, there is a story behind it. I have had many conversations with relative strangers about their song writing experiences. There is no better way to learn more about the craft than to examine the tastes of many different people. I’ve met some very interesting songwriters and learned something about the craft from my interviews. The show has always been about my quest to learn more about songwriting, and I love hearing the stories about the who, what, where, and when of a song. Last week, I played an old Yardbirds tune that I’d always assumed was written by the members of the band. One of their biggest hits, “For Your Love” and it has been covered by countless other bands, but was in fact written by another songwriter, Graham Gouldman. A founding member of the band 10CC,  Gouldman wrote or co-wrote a lot of hits from the 60's and 70's, including the famous Hollies hit “Bus Stop”. When I read these stories, I realize that a lot of people are probably like me, and don’t know who actually wrote these songs. Some of my fellow musicians are now telling me that there are not a lot of radio shows that focus on the actual songwriters. Perhaps I have found my niche.

 

Speaking of songwriting, last Thursday I received a shipment containing 300 CDs of my first album Imposters Game. I am apprehensive about releasing it to the public, but the die is cast. While recognition is the brass ring, now that I am actually putting my songs out there for anyone to hear, I am apprehensive. I suppose it’s silly to even worry about this, as the number of people interested in my work can probably be counted on two hands. Still, I have written in a vacuum for 35 years and am just now releasing my first set of songs to the general public. I feels strange. A week Wednesday, I will go on air at Hunters Bay Radio, with my producer Juan Barbosa, and talk a little bit about the process of making Imposters Game. There will be no official CD release, just this radio show. After the show, the album will be available at the radio station, all proceeds from its sale going to the station, and I can move on to my next project. I never thought I’d release a CD of my songs that merits attention, but I am proud to have made this album. I hope a lot of people find the time to listen to it. Arrogant to imagine, but I dream that the release of this album could somehow bring some much deserved recognition to Hunters Bay Radio, which has helped so many artists like me blossom. Dare to dream.

The fifteenth anniversary of 9-11 snuck up on me. It wasn’t until the six o’clock news came on that I realized what day it was. Later that night, we watched that famous documentary released after 9-11, intended to be about the newbie at a lower Manhattan FDNY fire hall, which included all that remarkable footage from the day. I’d forgotten that the cameraman had filmed the falling of the second tower from Ground Zero! I still bristle when I see those towers fall. That was the Pearl Harbor of my generation, but it was a different kind of enemy. And finally, there was a story on the news the other night about the growing pet health industry. Last year, North Americans spent $60 billion on pet health, up 75% from the year 2000. There are pet spas springing up in larger North American cities and people are paying big bucks to enlist their pets in elaborate fitness programs. There is pet yoga, pet hydrotherapy, and designer pet clothing, but the silliest thing I watched was some gourmet pet food caterer offering beautifully presented plates of dog food, that look like something you might see in a five star restaurant. Everyone knows that the dogs don’t care about presentation and that they are just going to hoover down the food in three gulps. Clearly this is for the owner’s benefit. Nouvelle cuisine for pooches; have we all gone mad?

                          - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 9/12/16

As I’ve said many times in this report, I never cease to be impressed by the improvement I observe in local songwriters. A few weeks ago, we attended a concert at the Algonquin Theatre in Huntsville for the release of Clayton Earl’s first CD and DVD entitled Now You Know Me. Clayton is a relative newcomer to the local songwriter scene, and the first time I saw him perform several years ago was perhaps his first real public performance as a songwriter. That first night, his stage presence was a little stiff, but there was something about his songs that resonated in me. I’ve seen him perform a few times since, and he has improved with each show. At the CD release performance, he brought in several ringers from the local musician pool, and coupled with his improved stage presence, the concert was really good. Decidedly, what moved me most was the message of the documentary.

The show began with the debut screening of a documentary, produced by Mark Boucher, entitled “Now You Know Me” and it features interviews with Clayton about what until then had been his secret. What none of us in the audience knew, including Clayton’s own father, was that Clayton suffers from severe depression, and has more than once come very close to ending his own life. He discusses it unabashedly in the video, and leaves us with the message that suicidal tendencies are not something to be ignored. Tragically, this is a well-kept secret, and suicides are on the rise, especially among young people. In fact, I  was shocked by the numbers. The problem is that sufferers feel shame and self-loathing, and often successfully hide their feeling from their friends and families. His message is directed to the sufferers: I have this, and I found a way out; you can too. I know Clayton will save lives with this video. Maybe he already has.

 

Clayton hit a raw nerve in me, because I too suffer from depression and, albeit not as severe as his, mine has been at times paralyzing. He talks about how songwriting became a cathartic therapy for him, and exorcised some of the dark thoughts in his head. I relate to that, because it has been the same for me. Some of my songs are pretty dark, but once out of me, the toxic thoughts are externalized, and I feel relief.  Of course not all songs are going to be interesting to or fit for the general public, but for me, it is the songs that explore inner turmoil that most interest me. If you suffer from depression, you know what a prison it can be. Sometimes it’s as simple as a chemical imbalance, and can be modified with drugs, or even better nutrition, but one needs to recognize the illness before one can address it. This is what is so sad, many do not, and many kill themselves as a result of their feelings of hopelessness. How many creative souls have succumbed to the ravages of drugs and/or alcohol because of their inability to cope? We watch the celebrity train wrecks and shake our heads wondering how someone successful could fail so catastrophically. I’m not a celebrity, but I know what it is like to have everything a man could want, but to still feel worthless. The reasons I quit drinking in 2013 are manifold, but to be honest, a good part of it was the realization that alcohol contributed to my self-loathing. Now that I no longer drink, my self-esteem has improved inestimably. Not usually one to play the evangelical, sober alcoholic, I will say this. I could never have hosted a radio show, or performed my original songs live on air, or finally created that ever-elusive CD of my songs, had I still been under the control of the bottle.

    

Last Thursday night, I performed live on air at Hunters Bay Radio for about an hour, and a video of the performance was recorded on Periscope. I don’t do a lot of live performances, but if you want to see what that looks like, consult the Hunters Bay Radio Facebook page. I’m on there somewhere. I can see improvement in my performance, and I am proud of myself for having improved. To me, that is my Juno, or Grammy. To all the people out there, and especially to those who are creative but feel detached from the general public, you are not alone. Many of us have feelings of low self-esteem. Clayton has done a brave thing here. He inspires the rest of us in his community to wake up to the problem, and to get the help some of us sorely need. Nice work Clayton, we need more people in the community like you.

 

  - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED