The Oppenheimer Report 3/14/16

Last night on the news, I watched coverage of the Toronto St. Patrick’s Day parade, with all the attendees bedecked in Irish green. When I still lived in Buffalo, I usually attended the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade in downtown Buffalo. Buffalo is a city with a healthy Irish population, and that parade was a green light to party. I loved to watch all the goofy costumes and the higher than average level of stupidity and inebriation which surrounded St. Patty’s day. Buffalo is, or at least was when I lived there, a serious party town. Bars are plentiful, and many are open until 3 a.m. or 4 a.m. For me, that parade was usually viewed hung over. Sunday being a “school day”, I typically did my heavy drinking the night before. Things have changed, and these days, the only way I am apprised of an upcoming holiday is by the flood of cheap holiday-related debris lining the dollar store aisles. Fake blood and a sea of orange and black portend the coming of Halloween, crappy Valentine candy and campy pink and red trinkets herald Valentine’s Day, and aisles of Chinese-made green cardboard top hats and sparkly green crap mark St. Patrick’s Day. The strange part about St. Patrick’s Day is that it is not a big deal in Ireland. When I spent a semester in Ireland back in the late 70s, there was a small parade in Dublin, but none of the fanfare that surrounds the holiday in North America. My most memorable St. Patty’s Day experience took place in a Buffalo bar shortly after the parade was over. We were in the back of the bar, which was packed to well beyond its limit, when there was some kind of commotion that prompted people to panic and try to escape. There was a lot of pushing and shoving and people were freaking out all around me. Not one to be claustrophobic, I got a little nervous when I could not breathe, and after what seemed like an eternity, we managed to escape the sardine tin. I was genuinely frightened by the experience and vowed never again to put myself in a similar situation.

 

Last Thursday night was a busy one for me. Our singer/songwriter friend Bobby Cameron was in Toronto on business and then he drove up to visit us for the weekend. I was scheduled to perform in the “Live Drive” at Hunters Bay Radio 88.7 FM, and Bobby was gracious enough to accompany me. There were technical issues with the sound, and live radio is always hit or miss, but I think we did OK. I can put another notch on my belt for a live performance that terrified me. I performed the song I recently wrote for James Carroll, and several other new songs I’ve penned. The best part of the weekend was Saturday night, when, after a marathon writing session, Shauna, Bobby, and I finished a song we wrote entitled “Where You Live, Where You Die.” Inexperienced as I am at collaboration, I see how this would be hard to do with the wrong people. I’ve listened to and played with Bobby for over 20 years now, and we have a mutual respect as songwriters. Shauna, as well, is a talented musician and writer. Yes, there were heated debates about economy of words, articles, and adjectives to be stricken from the lyrics, phrasing, etc., and long discussions ensued about the meaning of certain words. Collaboration is not easy! All in all, Bobby and I, and later Shauna, probably put in about ten hours of work to finish the song. Well into the wee hours of Sunday morning, the song was completed. There is nothing quite as satisfying as the exhilaration after finishing something creative as a team. I may be too close to the song right now, but I feel it is a good song. Bobby feels strongly enough about it to include it on his next album.

In U.S. politics, anti-Trump protesters clashed with Trump supporters at a rally in Illinois and the conflict turned violent. I’m no Trump fan, but it is telling that this outsider has so derailed the Republicans party. The heat is on and the next four or five state primaries will determine if the unimaginable will happen. That’s democracy. The people have spoken, and like it or not, they will reap what they sow. As the possum said (and I’m really dating myself by quoting Pogo) “We have seen the enemy and he is us!”

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED