The Oppenheimer Report 5/25/20

For some reason, something has changed in this blog, and I can no long post the way I used to. If you would like to read this weeks entry, please click on the following link:

https://muskokaradio.com/news/article/the-oppenheimer-report-may-25-2020?fbclid=IwAR00yya3ckvKiKhIsMkwT1amGnE3QGXwNxCEKZDczDBW15Yr6O41W-KSiec

The Oppenheimer Report 5/18/20

High 5 from Sydney on Day 3

As I begin writing this report, Sydney, our 9 week-old Miniature Schnauzer is currently out cold on her Granny Ethel “ET” Taylor’s chest. She is named in honour of Shauna’s late dad and ET’s husband, Dr. Sydney Taylor, and her official name is Dogter Sydney Taylor. Her namesake loved the breed and took wonderful care of his dogs. After a two month stay with us, today ET is returning to her home in Toronto to resume whatever sense of normalcy one can imagine in this much-changed world. While she does have a wonderful caregiver, she has remained, much to the consternation of her over-protective children, remarkably independent.

The journey to our new pup Sydney has been a long and crooked one. We lost Jasper a little over a year ago. For all of us to whom pets are family, you know that there is grief involved. I’ve spoken with so many people in the last year who have lost a pet, and their common advice was always “Oh, you’ve GOT to get another dog, and do it soon.” When a little time had passed we contacted Jasper’s breeder, who is one of the best in North America, because we wanted the best chance of acquiring and raising another healthy dog. The Taylor family had once had a horrible experience with a pup from an irresponsible breeder, and that dog had a constellation of health problems. Jasper was a healthy dog and lived a good, long life, and we wanted another dog like her. By the way, we went through a comprehensive interview with Jasper’s breeder before she would accept US.

Regrettably, we were not able to acquire another pup from the same breeder, but it was a year of hoping we would. First, we had to wait for one of her bitches to go into heat. Then, when that happened and she was inseminated, the pregnancy did not take. The next possible window of opportunity was months later, and when the insemination was to take place, there was a terrible snowstorm which prevented the two parties from getting together. Our final hope was for a pairing with one of her males and a champion bitch, but when that mating was to occur, there was another complication.

Shortly before we got the news about the last failed pairing a strange thing happened. A Canada goose landed on Jasper’s grave, which is overlooking the lake in front of our house. It stood there for the longest time without moving, then flew away. Shauna took it as a sign, and called the breeder, hoping for good news. When it became apparent that another pup was not in the cards, and that we had now waited just over a year, the breeder put us in touch with one of her respected colleagues, a woman in Ontario whom she trusted to be a responsible breeder. In a Serendipitous turn of events, we were just in time to acquire one of the three pups from her latest litter. The pup had been spoken for, but the buyer turned out to be unacceptable, and the breeder had just returned the deposit. Had we not called when we did, that pup would have been sold to another acceptable owner within an hour. 

5/19/20 - We posted a short video of Sydney last night on Facebook and I think it made a lot of people smile. I think we could all use a little good news. I don’t usually believe in signs, but perhaps that Canada goose knew something we didn’t know. 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer ©2020 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/11/20

Did you ever have one of those “Oh yeah!” moments, wherein the stars aligned, and all was right in the world? It seems like a long time ago since I last felt that way. With all the stress and uncertainty swirling about right now, sometimes it is hard to remember those moments.

Yesterday was a weird Mother’s Day. Many people are separated from their families and cannot be with their mothers. Like me, many more were reminiscing about their mothers who are no longer alive. I’ve been poring through a lot of old photographs in the past few weeks. Sometimes it is helpful to get a little shot of perspective. Shauna posted a photo she took of me with my Mom over twenty years ago. It made me smile, and then I cried a little.

The other day on TECH 5 broadcast, Ben Harrison read the transcript of a mock bedtime story he gleaned from YouTube, and I found it amusing while at the same time, true. It involved a little boy imploring his dad to once again tell him the story of the COVID-19 pandemic. The gist of the story, told in a fairy tale style, was that everyone in the world was forced to change and sacrifice. Then, once the pandemic had passed, those people realized they were happier remaining in the more connected, less technology-driven, fast-paced world that they had left behind. I’ve been pining for that world for some time, snarled and tangled as I have become in the land of trolls, reality TV, bad news channels, social media, and “labour-saving” technology. As I read the 500 page owner’s manual for my Honda (only available in CD form by the way), trying to figure out why my key fob now only unlocks one door in my 4-door SUV instead of all the doors, it occurred to me, once again, that maybe I don’t need 4 different methods with which to lock and unlock my car doors.

I’ve had a song on my mind of late, written by the Drive-By Truckers, entitled “The Sands Of Iwo Jima”, and it is about a WWII vet. Last Friday marked the 75^th Anniversary of the end of WWII in Europe. From the dwindling population of WWII vets, one elderly man was interviewed on the news that night, and his optimism was refreshing. He and so many of his fellow soldiers had seen unspeakably horrible things, but many of those who survived went on to be selfless, humble, remarkable citizens. They prevailed. Of course, there was collateral damage. Some came back mentally scarred, and undoubtedly, all of them returned from battle changed. That old vet’s words stuck in my mind. He spoke of the current pandemic, and his attitude was the same as it probably was in the 40s. If we fight through this thing, we will eventually prevail, and we will survive, stronger for having endured the challenges. This is a war, make no mistake about it.

It’s been a long time since mankind was called upon to unite against a common enemy. There is no doubt the world has never been a sicker, more divided place. It’s so easy to point to Rump, the go-to scapegoat. He is a walking, talking turd emoji, The Commander-In-Tweet, and few will disagree he is a boorish, ignorant fool. Still, I think he is just the canary in the coal mine.  We as a species have a long history of making mistakes. There is progress and there is technology, and sometimes the two are mutually exclusive. Social media, spin-driven news, and the resulting erosion of social values have fanned the flames of hatred. Who wants to be a leader in this world today? Look at our priorities. Big shot athletes and famous actors are revered, while true heroes are marginalized, or ignored altogether. Right now, the focus is on extolling the right heroes: the doctors, the nurses, the PSWs, the firemen, the emergency first responders, the front line workers in essential services, but why now? It is because, for the moment, they are newsworthy; they are dying to protect us. My heart breaks every time I hear a story about some minority bus driver or PSW who was snatched by COVID-19 because we as a society did not have his or her back. I take partial responsibility for that, which probably sounds hypocritical coming from an entitled white man. Think about it though, isn’t it simply a matter of time before we will all perish if we do not reset the way we think? Turn the other cheek, forgive, figure out a way to look beyond your own personal needs, and try to help someone else who is not like you. I am no evangelist, but I do feel we can’t save ourselves if we can’t help each other. Whether you can identify with the poor, the homeless, and/or other minority groups, as Pogo the cartoon opossum said: “We have met the enemy and he is us.” The current status of my faith in a higher power is unsure at present, but lately, it feels as if there IS some kind of cosmic reset occurring. Mother Nature, or the entity with a white flowing beard, or pick your universal puppet master, has started to pull the strings again. The clouds are parting, and a reverberating voice from the heavens booms: “Hey, human race, you’ve come off the rails once again. It’s time for yet another painful history lesson. Boost the empathy and compassion a bit, and hopefully you can all learn to play nice with the other kids. You snooze, you lose, mankind. It’s up to you, wake up or perish!”

I have been terrified of death all my life, but for some reason I am a little less afraid of it these days.  I still don’t want to die, but I’ve had a good life so far, and I don’t have too many regrets. Perhaps I’ve become a little more fatalistic with all the fear, anger, and heartache surrounding me. These days I am concentrating on doing more than ever on doing much more for others than I ever have before. I am reminded of and thankful for the courageous people around me. I recognize their sacrifices. They too may be fearful, but they manage to do the right thing in spite of it all.  I salute them, I admire them, and I want to emulate them. I want to do more good than harm, until the Grim Reaper points its orange, bony finger at me and mutters, “You’re Fired!”.

  Written by Jamie Oppenheimer  ©2020  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 5/4/20

One of the things that blows my mind about social media, other than the fact that people can personally attack their perceived enemies with impunity and broadcast their every pearl of wisdom to a universe of cyberspace recipients who could care less, is the fact that I can communicate with otherwise inaccessible people in the music business. In the past five years, and through my affiliation with Hunters Bay Radio, I’ve interacted with dozens of successful songwriters and musicians whom I admire.  As well, I’ve been blessed to meet some talented performers. I remember back around 2014, I walked in the front door of Hunters Bay Radio and there on the stage was my late friend James Carroll, interviewing Alan Doyle, lead singer for the band Great Big Sea. Music is the universal language, and I feel that our little radio station is beginning to get that message out.    

Dean McTaggart is one singer/songwriter with whom I recently made contact. I featured some of his songs in last week’s LYRICAL WORKERS show. I am currently reading the book “Talk! Conversations In All Keys” by musician/producer/arranger/radio host Bill King. Dean McTaggart’s name came up in a discussion about Amanda Marshall’s self-titled debut album. That is a great album for many reasons, certainly not the least of which is Amanda Marshall’s distinctive and bluesy voice. What impresses me most about the album is the great songwriting, and when I learned that Mr. McTaggart had written four of my favorite songs on the album, I had to let him know. He was kind enough to write back and, though him, I have learned about several more songwriters with whom I was unfamiliar. With every new contact, and every new story imparted, I learn a little more about the craft. Many are familiar with the artists who make songs famous, but I’m more interested in the writers.  Liza Minelli and Frank Sinatra made the song “New York New York” a hit, but how many people know that Fred Ebb and John Kander were the lyricist and composer of that song?

We got a lovely email from our friend and singer / songwriter Jon Brooks the other day, and in the message he talks about this “time out” for mankind, wherein people are perhaps more inclined to listen to songs carefully. His hope, and ours, is that as humanity resets, good songs will be an important part of the healing process. He is hopeful that, as a result of this pandemic, superior lyrical content will become more relevant, to a wider audience. I hope he’s right, because I fear we’re losing our capacity to listen.

Fellow volunteer and friend at Hunters Bay Radio, TECH 5 commentator Ben Harrison, sent me an interesting article the other day. It concerned the remarkable nature of trees, and their ability to take root almost anywhere. The article included a series of photographs illustrating the myriad of ways trees manage to grow in harsh environments. There are pictures of trees growing out of rocks, pavement, and old, rotted tree stumps. It’s a subtle reminder of the tenacity of Mother Nature. She will always prevail, and man’s hubris will be but a footnote in one volume of the Encyclopedia Of Life. I heard a sobering statistic on the news the other day. It was reported that, as of last week, COVID-19 has killed more Americans in 3 months than the Viet Nam War did in 10 years. Ironically, that fact was reported as parts of America begin to open back up for business, despite dire warnings from health experts. Peterborough songwriter Washboard Hank recently released a live performance which I posted on my Facebook page. I think the title of the song, which he penned with Terry McEvoy, sums it all up quite nicely: “Ain’t No Cure For Stupid”.  

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer  ©2020  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED