The Oppenheimer Report 1/25/16

They’re dropping like flies in the world of Rock 'n’ Roll! Over the past several weeks, three prominent rock stars have kicked the bucket. First up (or down) was Lemmy Kilmister, bassist from the heavy metal band Motorhead, then we lost David Bowie, who passed on at the age of 69, and most recently, Eagles front man Glenn Frey died last week, unexpectedly of complications from rheumatoid arthritis and ulcerative colitis. Bowie’s death was certainly a huge shock to fans because he so successfully managed to keep his imminent demise a secret. Glenn Frey was also a surprise and not someone I thought would die before other rock stars who had so publically abused themselves. Ozzy Osbourne may be on injured reserve, and talks as if he is a few spices short of a goulash, but he is still, technically, standing. Keith Richards, well Keith Richards is simply a freak of nature. That guy has ingested enough hard drugs to render the entire country of Liechtenstein comatose, and he’s still playing music. Take that John Denver. Indeed, there is no explaining the fickle finger of fate. As Prime Minister Justin Trudeau seems poised to legalize marijuana in Canada, there is no better poster boy for the medicinal benefits of weed than the legendary Willie Nelson. The guy has written hundreds of hit songs, made millions, he’s still performing at 82, and he’s smoked so much weed in his long life that you could probably get high from his fingernail clippings.
 

The other day, someone posted a list on Facebook of all the rock stars that are either approaching or are over seventy years of age. The not-so-subtle implication, probably prompted by all the recent high profile deaths, is that time is of the essence if fans want to see these fossil rockers perform one last time before they croak. The other night, I saw a television ad out of Boston for a Billy Joel concert, and it made me chuckle. Joel is now starting to look a little worse for wear, and it is no secret that he was, and maybe still is, a notorious partier. I saw him perform in Buffalo back in the late eighties, and he was a wild man. He put on a great show. In the ad though, I got the distinct feeling that Joel may be a little past his prime. This might be his “Catch Me While You Can Tour.” That, of course, got me to thinking that this could be a whole new way of marketing rock stars, young and old alike. Be the first on your block to share bragging rights with fellow concert goers: “I watched Axel Rose stumble off stage and impale himself on his mic stand. I even bought the video - it was great!” Get ‘em before they flame out.

 

I’ve been reading a book about the “art” of dying, wherein the author, a nurse, addresses the issue of quality vs. quantity of life. She argues (and I agree with her) that while science and technology can prolong a person’s life indefinitely, the ethics of doing so are questionable. Does this benefit the sufferer? She suggests that often it does not, and that we need to become better at letting go and demystifying the inevitable reality of death. Are a patient’s last days best spent undergoing invasive and painful procedures, or taking advantage of that time to properly say farewell to loved ones. DO go gentle into that good night seems to be her message, and it makes a lot of sense to me. Accepting the imminence of death, saying goodbye, and dying peacefully can be a better end than buying a few more months or weeks. I don’t think Lemmy would have been happier if he’d eaten more fruit and vegetables.    

Final note. We in the Great White (Near) North have dodged another bullet as a big winter storm walloped the East Coast late last week. The storm virtually shut down NYC and Washington D.C. for a day, and hundreds of drivers were stranded on the Pennsylvania Turnpike as the winter storm rendered the roads there impassable. Up here, it’s been cold, but we’re laughing. Heck, I was boating on Christmas Day! And yes, I realize it’s not over yet.

 

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report 1/18/16

My apologies for not posting a report last week. For the past several weeks, Shauna’s mom was our guest up here at Jasper Bark Lodge. We were fortunate enough to celebrate her 91^st birthday together, and it was a great visit. That said, with her visit, and my recently added responsibilities as host of the Hunters Bay Radio show Talent On The Bay, I simply forgot to write the report. As well, I was otherwise occupied when I would have normally posted the report.

Last Monday morning, at the crack of dawn, I picked up my buddy James Carroll in Huntsville and drove him down to Barrie to begin his chemo treatments. Just outside of Barrie, we collided with a massive lake effect snowstorm, driving the last few miles in a complete whiteout. Of course, James was apprehensive about the chemo anyway, and I suspect the weather-related delays did not do much to settle his nerves. Still, we made the best of our “adventure,” and James handled his first day of chemo with courage and humor.

I am finishing this report at the radio station, while I wait to air today’s Talent On The Bay show. Last Sunday, I pre-recorded an hour-long interview with James for today’s show. As Program Director, Producer, Host, and Editor for Hunters Bay Radio, for many years, James has been the predominant voice of Hunters Bay Radio, hosting many of the most popular shows, editing shows, recording live musical performances, conducting live interviews, etc. Many people up here are unaware that, prior to his employment at Hunters Bay Radio, James was a successful actor, on stage, television, and in film. Acting since he was a boy, James had acquired his equity card by the time he was sixteen years young, and performed in countless stage productions as he worked his way through university. He sang, danced, acted, and really did just about everything involved in theatrical production. At one point in his illustrious career, he held the position of Stage Manager for Toronto’s prestigious Second City comedy troupe. He has written plays, he has numerous film and commercial credits, and played a major character in the Canadian television series Wind At My Back for all five seasons that the show aired. Shauna and I recently purchased the box set and are presently about two thirds of the way through Season Two. James has never been one to brag about his accomplishments, but they are impressive. It wasn’t until about six months ago that I began to learn how many people have been positively affected by James’ generosity and talents.

We conducted our interview in James’ apartment, the Sunday afternoon before he was to begin his treatment Monday morning. This interview was a distraction, but also an attempt to record this very interesting man’s achievements. He has been in the entertainment industry for well over forty years and has some great anecdotes. While I have no journalistic experience, I know from the interviews I have enjoyed that my job was to ask leading questions and then to shut up. James was such an easy interview – I think I said “So, you’re originally from Philadelphia,” and then just let the tape roll. Always the entertainer, James carried the ball for the entire hour. Nobody knows how long James will be with us – I hope it’s a very long time -- and there have been some miraculous recoveries from Stage 4 cancer. The fact is, some dear friends leave us without having the opportunity to say farewell. Shauna posted and is managing a tribute page on Facebook, so that James’ old friends might reunite, share stories with the group, and to let everyone know about his very interesting life so far. If you wish to hear my interview with James, you can click on the following link: https://soundcloud.com/search?q=james%20carroll%20interview%20hunters%20bay%20radio. R.I.P. David Bowie and Bob Denver. I was a diehard Gilligan’s Island fan. Green Acres too – that Mr. Haney was hilarious. O.K., I love those zany 70s sitcoms.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report 1/4/15

A belated Happy New Year to one and all. Did you whoop it up, did you put the lamp shade on, did you get conflobulated and thereafter drive the porcelain bus? I did not. My bus driving days are over. In fact, many of the people I spoke to on the day of New Year’s Eve planned to spend a quiet evening at home. Some were not even planning to stay up until midnight. I have always stayed up to see the ball drop. Our New Year’s Eve celebration consisted of a good dinner at home followed by several hours of Anderson Cooper giggling with the sometimes annoying, often entertaining Kathy Griffin. When did news anchors begin to giggle like schoolchildren? I never heard Walter Cronkite giggle. I thought there was some rule about drinking booze on air, but several of the CNN correspondents, including Don Lemon (who after a few belts complimented Kathy Griffin on her “nice rack”) were definitely into their cups. I was disappointed that, for the first time in several years, CNN did not feature Sushi the transvestite dropping in a giant high heeled shoe from the second story of a building on Key West. I Googled stuff that is dropped on New Year’s Eve and the strangest thing I found was the possum drop in Georgia. Shauna’s mom is up visiting us from Toronto for the first time since she fell and broke her neck in May, and the best celebration we could have hoped to have is her presence to usher in the New Year. Next Thursday will mark her 91^st birthday, and she is doing well. She wanted to finally meet James Carroll at Hunters Bay Radio, who has so generously mentioned her on many of his Sunday Martini Music shows. Last week, we drove her into Huntsville and she finally met him at the radio station. That was big for both of them.

I mentioned last week that the generator did not kick in when we had a power outage on Christmas Eve. Luckily, the electrician showed up last Tuesday to have a look, and it turns out it was something simple; a spark plug wire had come loose. The generator was due for its annual service and oil change anyhow, and now we should be good to go for another season. I used to be a little handier than I am now, and with a manual can do routine maintenance on engines. Certainly I can re-attach a spark plug wire, but what I have found, after replacing a starter motor or two, rebuilding (with assistance) the motor of my 1967 Triumph Spitfire, etc., is that these are tasks better left to a professional.  I did feel a little stupid knowing that, had I simply been able to examine the generator motor, I could likely have seen and fixed the problem. I couldn’t even figure out how to take the cover off!  I will know for the next time this happens.

I am writing this report on Sunday evening, and my New Year begins with a colonoscopy. Whoopie! Tomorrow at noon I go in for the scope, and while the procedure itself is not all that uncomfortable (because I will be sedated), the night before is no picnic. As I write this I have been fasting since midnight last night, recently downed the citus-flavored draino and am awaiting the moment(s) of truth. As if one dose is not enough, I am to awaken at 5AM to take a second dose. Should be a lovely evening, but it will all be worth it if I get a clean bill of health. My dad had colon cancer and it was early detection that saved his life.    

 

Finally, I’m always interested to hear the year in review new stories that precede the ball drop in Times Square, and 2015 certainly appears to have been a violent one. Donald Trump is doing his best to stir up Islamophobia, which I understand is giving ISIS recruiters a leg up, but on top of terror attacks around the world, there were around 57 gun-related mass murders(3 or more victims) in the U.S. We worry so much about what we do not understand, but are statistically more likely to be murdered by one of our own countrymen.  

RIP to Lemmy Kilmister, singer and bassist for Motörhead, dead at 70. He apparently collected Nazi memorabilia which led some in the media to deem him a Nazi sympathizer, but he denied this. I loved his explanation: the bad guys always have the best uniforms.  Harlem Globetrotters showman Meadowlark Lemon has also passed on at 83. While never a basketball fan, I used to love watching him clown around on the court. I wish you all a peaceful, harmonious 2016!

 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED