The Oppenheimer Report 5/29/17

Today is the 23^rd anniversary of the day Shauna and I wed. We were married at the Royal York Hotel in Toronto and it was a big, beautiful wedding. Friends and family were in attendance from near and far, and I think most of the guests had a blast. While I don’t remember every detail of our wedding, I remember parts of it very clearly. I distinctly remember being extremely sleep-deprived and sitting in a room next to the hall where we were about to be married, waiting for the ceremony to begin. As we were about to sign the ketubah, or the Jewish wedding contract, I noticed a bizarre spectacle through the open door. There was a line of ten or twenty men dressed up as Beefeaters, about to march, and this was practically concurrent with our imminent wedding ceremony. How anyone running that hotel could have missed this possible conflict was beyond me, and all I could imagine was that all our wedding guests were going to think that we were pompous assholes. It looked Kardashian-ian.

Every year on our anniversary, I reflect on what being married to Shauna has meant to me. I was a diehard bachelor, well into my 30s when we met, and the odds were against us entering into a lasting relationship. She lived in Toronto and I was firmly entrenched in Buffalo life, but we shared a passion for music and songwriting. After an extended, long distance relationship, communicating only through letters, faxes, and telephone conversations, we finally met face-to-face for dinner at Niagara-On-The-Lake, months after we first spoke. The first time she visited Buffalo was to surprise me on my birthday. She walked into our real estate office on Delaware Avenue dressed in a gorilla costume, carrying a string of balloons. My best friend (and Best Man) Bob was in on the gag. I think he rented the costume for her, which was, by the way, waaay too big on her. It was hilarious. I remember Bob saying something like “Someone went to a LOT of trouble to pull this off.” Little did she know what she was getting herself into.

We’ve been together for about 24 years now, and it hasn’t always been easy. No relationship is perfect, and anyone who tells you otherwise probably hasn’t been in a long-term relationship. If, as we are approaching, we make it to the ninth round of a marriage, we will be part of an ever-shrinking minority. Some couples stay together because of their kids, some are simply trapped in their dysfunction and cannot bear the thought of being alone. Shauna and I have had great, well-adjusted parents who provided good role models for a healthy relationship. I try not to over-analyze my relationship with Shauna, because we are only part way along our journey. I can honestly say that no other person has ever been as attractive to me as she is, on every level. I think people are becoming less and less equipped to commit to monogamous relationships for whatever reason. In this ever-changing world, it might have something to do with the erosion of our patience and attention spans. Perhaps this is a byproduct of the rise of the computer and cell phone, I don’t know. As the years pass, I think what acts as the glue for us is respect, humor, and a rich, shared history. Shauna knows just about everything there is to know about me; the darkness and the light. She knows me better than I know myself, and accepts me for who I am. This is a comforting notion in a world that is becoming ever more divisive and unloving. Happy 23^rd Boo, I still love you madly and I think you're wonderful. Let’s order a pizza and watch some crappy TV.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/22/17

On one of Shauna’s rare outings, we headed in to Huntsville last Saturday for the Muskoka 2/4 Craft Beer Festival. Although neither of us drinks alcohol anymore, we went to see the local musicians who were performing at the festival and to spend some time with other Hunters Bay Radio volunteers. I attended the event last year, and it was a genuine hoot. There were fifteen craft breweries represented and over 40 beers available on tap, and this year, the festival was even bigger and better than last year. The weather was perfect, and there were back to back stages for non-stop music from noon til about 6:30 p.m. Hunters Bay Radio sponsored the musical entertainment, and I thought the station was well represented by the local musicians who performed. All in all, it was a well-organized and thoroughly enjoyable event.

This week is a busy music week for me. I will be playing some of my songs on the Hunters Bay Radio Live Drive show, Thursday night from 6-7 p.m., and then, next Saturday afternoon, I’m to play at a half-hour set at a Habitat For Humanity fundraiser in Katrine. I haven’t performed in public in a while. Several of the musicians performing at the beer festival asked me why I wasn’t playing the festival, which was flattering. I’ll play if I’m asked, and if it’s for a good cause, but there are plenty of local musicians who are better suited to entertain. In fact, while I love to compose and write songs, I’m not thrilled about performing in public. I do it, simply because I want my songs to be heard, and so far, no one is knocking down the doors to cover my songs. I hope that changes some day, but for now, it's me and my guitar. My friend, the late James Carroll, once told me that I should make no apologies for my art; present it as best I can and let the chips fall where they may.

Last week, I met with noted producer Andre Wahl to lay down the final vocal tracks to one of three songs I’m recording with him. I’m singing a love song I wrote to Shauna entitled, Time We Found. The other two songs, Deeper I Go Into Blue and White Car are sung by fellow singer/songwriters, Paul Lagendyk and Jamie Clarke, respectively. Combined with Andre’s musicians, these singers did a fantastic job, and I can't wait to release the completed tunes.

Next Thursday night, on my Lyrical Workers show at 8  p.m., I shall begin with an interview of co-writers Bobby Cameron and my wife Shauna, before premiering a new song that I began to write over ten years ago. Originally entitled Middle Of Nowhere, and now entitled Where You Live, Where You Die, the song was inspired by the vast and desolate plains of Midwestern Canada. Using that desolation as a metaphor for a state of mind, I called upon my wife Shauna and good friend Bobby Cameron to complete the song. Bobby composed the music and Shauna came up with several strong lines to complete the verse. While I rarely collaborate in my songwriting, the relinquishment of control on this song was clearly the right move. I have great trust in Bobby as a performer and a writer, and I respect Shauna's word crafting as well. This was tricky for me, because a lot of the songs I write include a little piece of my soul. To hand them over to other writers, artists, and producers, sometimes with the knowledge that the songs may be altered, is off-putting. As I now begin to release these songs to the public, for however much recognition they may receive, I now become vulnerable to the opinions and creative visions of other, sometimes more successful artists. It can be challenging to the ego, but co-writing is a logical next step towards becoming a better songwriter. I hope you’ll listen to the Live Drive on Thursday night from 6-7 p.m. and/or to the 8 p.m. premier of the new song.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/14/17

Mom with Joanne

As I sit down to begin this week’s installment, I almost forgot it’s Mother’s Day. Alas, I am one of a growing number of orphans. My mom passed in 2011 and Dad preceded her by two years. I miss them both a lot, but I do not mourn their loss. The last years of their lives were difficult, as I suspect they are with most elders, but I’m getting to the point where I only remember the good times. They both lived long and interesting lives, and I am thankful to have had them for as long as I did. They were both wonderful parents, and with their patient, intelligent guidance I somehow managed to avoid any jail time, to date. I was hardly the perfect child, and I’m sure I gave my mother fits.

Last Friday night, Sarah Coombs, the host of the afternoon show at Hunters Bay Radio, called her mom live on air and asked her to recount three of Sarah’s more memorable childhood screw-ups. The stories were amusing. I have a few of those stories as well. When I was only four or five years old, my mom took me with her to run some errands, which included a trip to Wards Pharmacy near our house in Buffalo. While she was talking to the pharmacist, I grabbed a box of crayons and attempted to smuggle them out of the store. Unpracticed as I was in the fine art of thievery, I chose a giant box of crayons, and was not particularly effective at concealing them. Of course, Mom immediately caught me, and she made me admit my transgression to the pharmacist. She told me he’d probably call the police and have me thrown in jail if I did not beg for mercy, and agree to eat broccoli and spinach without protest for the rest of my life. Needless to say, this was one of many important lessons my mom taught me. I suspect many of my readers out there have or had great moms. It’s a tough and sometimes thankless job.

I’ve written a few songs that deal peripherally with my parents, and they might seem in some ways unsympathetic. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. I usually infuse some fiction in my songs to keep my distance, and to make the songs more universal. In the aforementioned songs I explore the complicated relationships we have with our parents, as the real human beings they are. The song dealing with my mom is called “Laughing” and I still have not finished it, three or four years after beginning it. It’s about a photo taken of Mom, a year or so after my thirteen-year-old sister had been hit and killed by a truck while crossing the street in Buffalo. In the photo, Mom was on a horse riding out West. She was smiling, but it was the Mona Lisa smile of a woman with had many secrets. “Wherein lies the truth behind the flash of a camera smile…” I could not know the pain she felt, I was three years old at the time, but I believe everything that happens to our parents eventually trickles down to us. Tragedy could have destroyed my mom, but it didn't.

I don’t know what it is to be a parent. We never had children, but more and more I'm growing to respect the ones who get it right. Even with the best of intentions, parents occasionally do emotional harm to their kids. Sometimes it’s a chain of abuse that is hard to break, and I’m always impressed when a parent does not transfer his or her struggles onto the children. No matter what happened to my mother in her life, and she had her share of tribulation, she never showed anything but love and respect for her children. Increasingly, I see how remarkable that is. As the world gets more complicated, it is perhaps harder and harder for mothers to protect their children from turmoil. Some do a better job than others. Today, I offer my posthumous “I love you Mom!” and I mean it with all my heart. To pay it forward, I hope to pass on some of the love and respect she showed to me. To all of you good mothers out there, bless you for all you do.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/8/17

Recognize the guy in the middle?

Every Thursday night, from 6-7 p.m., Hunters Bay Radio broadcasts a live performance on-air and online. Whenever possible, and because my show airs afterwards on the same night, I try to attend these performances. When I first joined the radio station, my friend, the late James Carroll hosted the show. It was in his capacity as host of Live Drive that I came to know and love James, because he was such an enthusiastic and generous supporter of local musicians. After James passed away, Ara Aycan took over as host for around a year, and the current host is a guy from Bracebridge named Joe Thompson, or “Silver Lake Joe” as he likes to be called. Silver Lake Joe has been doing a great job, and the word is getting out in the Canadian music community that HBR is a very musician-friendly station. Last week, Live Drive featured an artist named Darrin Davis, who drove all the way up from Orillia to perform. He has a distinctive voice, he played some good original songs, and I really enjoyed his performance. Best of all, he was affable, humble, and appreciative.

Dealing with musicians can be a hassle. Some are unreliable, others simply lack any business sense whatsoever. We ask our performers for bios to post on Facebook before the show, and often they do not comply, or do so only at the last minute. Some simply don’t get it; we are promoting them. Having attended well over forty of these live shows over the past two years, I’ve seen all kinds of artists, and sometimes the egos trump the talent. Most of the vets who have been doing this for a long time are relatively humble. On the road, playing a few hundred lonely bar gigs to rooms full of inattentive drunks, they’ve grown some perspective on their place in the musical food chain. While radio is not generally a paying gig, it is exposure to a larger, attentive audience. Serious songwriters and musicians value that exposure. Some don’t, and I’m somewhat amused to watch a neophyte performer with a bloated ego. I’m ready for my close-up Mr. Demille.

Back when I regularly played open mics, it seemed as if the people with the least amount of talent were always the ones who were the highest maintenance. If you’re doing a fifteen-minute set at an open mic, wherein a dozen other performers are waiting to play, get on and get off. Don’t give the sound man a hard time, don’t spend twenty minutes setting up, and leave your attitude at the door. Some musicians don’t give Hunters Bay Radio the support I feel the station deserves, because it’s a pro bono gig. Everyone thinks his or her performance is worthy of attention (and compensation), and that they deserve to be heard. In reality, there are always other artists out there who are more talented, and are not full of themselves. I remember one arrogant, semi-local (and painfully bad) songwriter who performed at Live Drive last year. When I asked him for his mailing address, he reluctantly gave it to me, but said that he usually doesn’t, because he is so inundated with adoring fans. I had to stifle a guffaw. A legend in his own mind.

To perform in public is a privilege. Well-paying gigs are becoming fewer and further between, and the field is becoming more competitive. Most experienced musicians recognize the value of free radio exposure, and a lot of the serious ones are proactive about seeking the recognition they may deserve. A lot of people dream of success in the music business, but after 35 years writing songs, I believe it takes a lot more than raw talent. I’ve seen unbelievable, vastly under-recognized songwriters perform at Hunters Bay Radio, and they are typically humble, cooperative men and women. It takes talent, diplomacy, and a little luck to get a break. A little perspective will go a long way to help those who seek recognition to achieve their goals.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/1/17

April showers bring May snowstorms, is that how the saying goes? As I begin this report on Sunday, the mercury is hovering around 33F Degrees, and once again I was fooled by a few warm, sunny days. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but every year I make the same mistake. Tempted by a couple of tee-shirt-weather days, I was at the local supermarket on Saturday, saw all the lovely spring flowers on display, and succumbed to the urge to adorn our yard with the first colors of spring. They shouldn’t put that stuff out yet for suckers like me! Experienced locals here in the Almaguin Highlands know it’s best to wait until late May to plant anything around here. Still, every year I buy something before the last frost, and then pay the price. As the Irish might say, “Today (Sunday) the weather is desperate!”. I just brought our traumatized plant in from the cold, hoping it will survive. Not known for my green thumb, I am slowly learning some hard lessons about what will and will not grow up here. 

Here in the Muskoka and Almaguin Highlands regions, we are in hardiness zones 5A and 4B. The lower the number, the more severe the climate, and the hardier the plants must be to survive. It bothers me that local garden shops routinely sell trees and shrubs that will not survive in this region. We keep a small vegetable garden during the summer, but it’s a short growing season. Many years ago, when we were building our house, I bought one of those “Topsy Turvy” upside down tomato planters you’ve probably seen advertised on TV. I planted cherry tomatoes – our favorites - in early June. By the time the plant finally bore fruit, it was late August, and just before they ripened, there was a hard frost. All was lost. Up here in the near north, you snooze you lose.

I watched part of the White House Correspondents' dinner last week, and heard young Daily Show comedian, Hasan Minhaj, roast Donald Trump (in absentia). It’s no surprise that the thin-skinned Trump would not attend this affair, because the dinner lauds those whom he considers to be creators of “fake news”. I thought Minhaj got off to a slow start, but he picked up steam in the second half of his routine, and I love to hear almost any comedian mocking Trump. It is, after all, a little like shooting fish in a barrel. I’m no fan of mainstream media, and I think many major news sources are reporting with considerable bias. That said, I do not like the direction in which this Trump administration is heading, and any attack on freedom of speech is a potential threat to our democracy. This whole battle is beginning to remind me of Edward R. Murrow vs. Senator Joe McCarthy. By the way, no one is more fact-challenged than our Commander-In-Tweet and his band of silly spokespersons. From Spicey, equating the Syrian conflict with Hitler’s Germany, to the never-before reported “Bowling Green Massacre”, to Trump’s latest boner about Andrew Jackson’s involvement in the Civil War, we are being inundated with alternative facts. Perhaps Donald should hire a tutor in American history before he opens his pie hole in public again. We’re in trouble when the average elementary school history buff knows more than our President about American history. I would not disagree that there is too much spin and misinformation in the media today, but Trump and his boneheaded minions are re-writing history.  I listened to Watergate reporters Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward speak about the dangers of an administration that eschews the media, and those two guys know a little bit about the dangers of letting a government spin out of control. 

At the end of his roast, Minhaj joked that Trump would probably tweet about how terrible the Nicki Minaj speech was during the dinner. I guess it would be a funnier joke if it weren’t so true. Ignorance is not a good foundation for leadership, and I fear it is contagious. Look at the bright side: only about 1366 days to go!!  

  
-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED