The Oppenheimer Report 4/28/14

I always find something about which to chuckle when I open up my Facebook page, and last week, shortly after Easter, it was a black and white photo someone posted of the Easter Bunny holding  two crying children. In much the same way as Santa is frightening to some kids, an adult male wearing a rather realistic and disturbing rabbit’s head and rabbit feet mittens might be terrifying to some little kids. These children probably thought this giant rabbit was Godzilla. I reposted the photo with a note underneath which read: “The Anti-Bunny.” I suspect this will generate some controversy. Perhaps I should start a new tradition in my faith. What do you think of Morty the flesh-eating Chanukah zombie?  Hey, Google Krampus sometime, if you think I’m the only one creating weird holiday mascots.

Had a productive meeting last Monday with a local musician named Juan Barbosa, arguably one of the more talented singer/songwriters in these parts, and I will hopefully be hiring him to record several of my songs. We spent a couple of  hours talking about our respective tastes, referring occasionally to YouTube videos for reference, and I think we are on the same page as to what I hope to achieve. I might be one of the few songwriters out there who does not really want to go out and perform his songs. If Juan can translate some of my rough demos into polished songs, I will have accomplished what I hope to achieve. I simply want to give some of these songs life. I recently finished three demos with Dave Housser at nearby Bay Lake Studio, and while Dave did what he was supposed to do, I came to the realization that it’s time to let professionals take over on the performing side. It’s a learning process. I still want to use my fingernails-on-a-blackboard vocals on at least some of the tracks, but I’ll probably leave most of the music to professionals. I also hope to get my buddy Bobby Cameron back east from Edmonton to record some of my songs this spring/summer. Between Juan, Bobby and perhaps Sean Cotton and some other artists, maybe I can have an album of songs finished by summer’s end. I’m very excited about this project and it has inspired me to go back and finish some songs I tabled a decade ago. All of those songs are constantly rattling around in my head, and occasionally the missing lyric will come to me in the car, or the shower, or at 3AM. I have learned to get the words down on paper or on a tape recorder before they disappear.

Final notes…As I do on a semi-regular basis, I take a look at various news sources to see what’s going on in the world, and this week was a reminder of how much does not make headlines. Never have I been more confused about the information I glean from the internet, and new sources, especially concerning Russia and Syria. As an example, it has been reported that Right Sector gangster groups attacked Ukrainian soldiers in Slavyansk last week, but more and more it looks as if it was pro-Russian Putin thugs trying to make a case for Russia to step in and “restore order.” The Assad regime in Syria is again accused of using chemical weapons against its people. It is difficult to confirm some of these reports because it is so dangerous for reporters to cover these regions. What else. Two months before the World Cup finals are scheduled to begin in Brazil, there were riots in the streets of Rio, sparked by alleged police brutality. Not great press leading up to a world event. A bomb ripped through a Shiite political rally in Bagdad last Friday reportedly killing 28, and someone caught it on video. While I take most of what I find on the internet with a grain of salt, some of this video is undeniably compelling. Short of outlawing all cell phones and computers, I doubt that bad governments can put a lid on this information. The trick is sifting through the spin. Every so often, I take stock of my good fortune and remember to be thankful for my freedom. Sometimes I can’t help feeling the wolf is at the door.

Or is it just the Easter Bunny? - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

THe Oppenheimer Report 4/21/14

A friend's Great Dane just had pups

The other night I was on my laptop, working out some lyrics for a new song, and as I sometimes do, I brought it upstairs with me to work on before I went to sleep. When I had finished for the night, I turned it off and put it on the floor next to my bed; there was no room on my end table. That was my big mistake. In the middle of the night, as I got up out of bed to answer one of Nature’s ever more frequent calls, I stepped on the laptop. It did not think this was a big problem until later that day, when I tried to turn the laptop on, and the screen looked like bad modern art. Of course I then had a mild freak out, wondering if the whole computer was toast. I am sure many of you have had that nauseating feeling before, suddenly realizing all of the information on your computer might be lost, and wondering if you had all of it backed up (knowing you probably didn’t).

I hooked the laptop up to our television set with an HDMI cable, and sure enough, the computer still worked. Hallelujah! But the screen was a goner. I can get a replacement screen for this laptop (from Dell), but it will take some time to acquire, and with installation, it won’t be cheap.  I have it hooked up to one of our small televisions, and that will suffice for now. You’re never too old to do really stupid things! The experience has reminded me how much I have come to rely on this computer, and I immediately did a current back up of my information so as to be protected should the hard drive fail. I rail on computers all the time, but I am a whiney hypocrite, because I am every bit as much a prisoner to its allures as the next misinformation junkie. That laptop is my filing cabinet for over 3000 photographs, and every song lyric, every letter, every Oppenheimer Report I have written since 1992, email correspondences, invoices, recorded demo songs, legal documents, etc. And I never thought I’d get sucked into the Face Book death star, but I’m there every day (and it’s amazing how many other people are as well). I’m watching my distant nieces and nephews grow up day by day, and with the click of a mouse I can catch up with a high school class mate whom I have not seen or heard from in forty years. Gone are the days when I took the time to compose a well-thought out letter. Now I can fire off some abbreviated and un-retractable “witticism” on the internet, which I later deem to be off the meter on the poor taste scale. Which brings me to my next deep thought: are we not living in a house of cards when so much of our information is “out there” to be stolen and used against us by strangers?

 

I heard on the news the other night that authorities have caught and arrested the hacker responsible for unleashing that much-publicized Heart Bleed virus which so compromised Canada’s online banking and tax filing system. It turns out the culprit was nineteen years old, I believe from the Great Toronto area, and the only reason he got caught is because he was foolish enough not to disguise his distinguishing IP address. His father is a computer guy in the business of data mining, and I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He must be so proud of his son. This virus had a ripple effect on online banking, online retail, etc. and it means that hundreds of thousands of social insurance numbers, Canada’s equivalent to the U.S social security number, might have been revealed to nefarious third parties. It all reminds me of that prescient movie War Games, wherein a teenager computer whiz almost unleashes WWIII. The specter of identity theft looms ever higher with each one of these cyber breaches and it is a wake-up call to all of us who use computers. Wireless technology, and the omnipresence of the internet in almost every form of commerce, leave us vulnerable to cyber terrorism. Some of us think that if we don’t do our banking or shopping online, we are safe from cyber crime, but if you have a bank account, or a credit card, or a telephone, or any number of other utilities, the horse is probably out of the barn already, and he didn’t look before he leaped. I continue to delude myself that the powers that be have taken proper security precautions to ensure that nothing bad happens, but clearly this latest heartworm thing proves I have my head in the sand. If some enterprising teen can breach allegedly impenetrable security, how many other serious cyber threats are out there in the wings? Our governments for instance.

Final notes … the death toll is now 60 and climbing as rescuers attempt to recover over two hundred missing passengers, most of them high school kids, from that horrific ferry accident off the southwest coast f S. Korea. Looks as if the captain and the crew are largely responsible for the magnitude of the tragedy, and once again I ask, “who’s driving that thing anyway?” Violence continues to spread cross the Ukraine, and The Toronto Raptors managed to do what the Leafs failed to do: make the playoffs. A belated Happy Easter to all my gentile friends, and to all my fellow members of the tribe, Happy Passover. Thankfully Passover is over on Tuesday. Matzo plugs me up big time.

 

       Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

THe Oppenheimer Report 4-14-14

I suppose this story falls into the category of righteous indignation. Last Monday I went to the post office in Burk’s Falls to send in my U.S. tax return, and because I was mailing it from Canada, the IRS recommended I send it by some express service in order to guarantee timely delivery. Everyone knows I’m “thrifty”, so I asked the lady at the desk if a week was enough time to send the package via regular mail. She could not guarantee that in a week’s time my return would arrive in Austin Texas, so I took the rubber band off and sent it by Express Post. Next year my U.S. accountant will be E-filing, and I’ll save twenty bucks, that is if that new heart bleed, or heart worm, or whatever-it’s-called computer virus doesn’t invade my computer and steal all my information, costing me my life’s savings. Still, I am beginning to wonder if the postal service has not finally outlived its usefulness. I’d heard the Canadian postage rates were going up in March, so while at the post office, I inquired as to how much. One would figure a few cents, right? Hah! It now costs $1.20 to send a post card or letter to the United States from Canada, up from what I considered to be an outrageous $1.10. That seems like a big increase to me, but then I was told that it will now cost eighty-five cents to send a letter within Canada, a hike of twenty cents. AND, Canada Post is now talking about cutting back services. WTF!  Almost one dollar for the luxury of having my personal correspondence rerouted to Pago Pago. That actually happened to me once – I had a letter I mailed in Canada, returned to me after almost 6 months, and one of the several postmarks was American Samoa. Apart from signing the listing agreement and the sale contract, we essentially sold our condo down in Florida by fax and email, and those correspondences were almost instantaneous. I am still old fashioned enough to appreciate receiving a hand written letter or post card, although I’m sure most of my friends can’t say the same about a letter from me. My hand writing is illegible. Code breakers could not read my handwriting. I say send written correspondences by fax or email, and send packages by any number of private carriers who clearly understand the laws of competition better than our governments. Today I sent two important letters out, one to Toronto and one to Buffalo, and both of them are covered with five cent stamps to accommodate these exorbitant hikes. Postal rate hikes are annoying, but 30% hikes are bordering on absurd. Thank you Canada Post, may I have another.

In entertainment news, satirist Stephen Colbert will be taking over as host of the CBS 11:30 PM late night slot, replacing the retiring David Letterman in 2015. I always preferred Letterman over Leno, but now it’s time to usher in the new generation. Jimmy Fallon seems to have hit the ground running since replacing Jay Leno, and now former SNL head writer Seth Meyers has taken over Fallon’s old 12:30 AM spot. I think Seth has got some lernin’ to do. By the way, does anyone speak the King’s English anymore? I never feel as old as I do when I watch and listen to contemporary news anchors and talk show hosts. I go, like, it’s not like that big of a deal, and like, I understand that the majority of listeners are probably in their like twenties or thirties, but OMG, like, really? Sometimes Anderson Cooper sounds as if he was a valley girl, and he giggles as if he was a little school kid. Walter Cronkite never giggled. Same with Fallon and Meyers; while they speak in the vernacular of the young, this does not bode well for the future of communication. The kids these days, where’s my Metamucil, dammit?  

Final notes. After a hopeful week in the search for Malaysian Airlines Flight 370, searchers still have yet to locate the missing plane, and time is running out. Soon there will be no more locatable “pings.” I watched what I believe was the last game the Toronto Maple Leafs will play this year, as they became the fire hydrant to Ottawa’s lifted leg. As usual, after a hopeful start to the season, the Leafs did what they have done for the last forty years; they broke our hearts, again. It baffles me, it wounds me to the core, and since self-medication, which is the coping mechanism for so many other Leafs fans, is no longer an option for me, I must find some other way to purge my growing rage. Music therapy helps. Played the Burk’s Falls Tavern again last Friday night for coffee house night and I think my anemic performing skills are beginning to blossom. This time, no one threw any vegetables at me, and that was after a whopping four original songs. I am using my Leafs rage to help me grow as an artist. Spring has descended upon the Great White North like a screaming harpy, and our property is now a muddy, sloppy mess. There is still a lot of snow to melt, and while many of the lakes have been drawn down to compensate, flooding is still a very real threat along local waterways. Residents of nearby Huntsville are paying close attention, and no one wants a repeat of last year’s destructive floods. This just in: “Everything’s gonna be awesome, chill out people, it’s like, not that big of a deal.” So I go, "What  Ever."

 

                        -  Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 4/7/14

Last Friday night, as part of Shauna’s ongoing mission to make our upcoming 20^th Anniversary a series of memorable celebrations, we drove down to Toronto to see the legendary blues guitarist Buddy Guy play at Massey Hall. I can now happily cross him off my bucket list of performers to see before I go. Recently I finished reading Guy’s memoirs When I Left Home, which is all about his experiences in Chicago playing with other blues legends like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Junior Wells. I found his performance to be all the more meaningful, because I knew a little about his history, and about his experiences at Chess Records. At 78, Guy still kicks ass and takes no prisoners, and I left that concert in awe of his ability to entertain. What Shauna and I did not realized when she purchased the tickets was that Guy would be touring with another one of our guitar heroes, Jonny Lang. What a treat it was to hear the two of them making their guitars wail!  I think that might be one of the top ten concerts I have ever attended. Over twenty years ago Shauna and I met because of our love of music, and since then, we have attended a lot of concerts together. Although her tastes are extremely varied, Shauna is a lover of the blues, and so am I. Seated behind me and to my left was the one and only Randy Bachman of The Guess Who and Bachman Turner Overdrive. Very cool.

Because we live in a rural area, and because I am a lazy sloth-like couch potato who can’t be bothered to shop in a regular store, I have taken to ordering a lot of stuff online. In the past two months I have ordered everything from dehydrated refried beans, to an audio cassette player that converts my cassettes into digital music files. In truth, this consumer is becoming consumed, and the intoxication that comes from buying online is beginning to get the better of me. I may be developing a problem. For some items, unavailable locally, online buying is the convenient solution. I have learned that, if it is a large purchase, it is a good idea to personally inspect the item somewhere before ordering it online. I ordered a top-rated sound bar to improve the audio quality of our TV, but it would not work (something about wireless connectivity), and I had to send the whole thing back. I’d never had to return something that large through the mail – it was in two parts and weighed about 40 pounds - and the lady at our local post office gave me a really dirty look. Still, returning it by mail was lot easier than schlepping it back to a store, which in my case would have been 500 kilometers away. Glad I kept the box, which I often foolishly destroy while unpacking. The other day I ordered some SD cards (digital storage cards for my camera and 8 track digital recorder) from an online computer store, and I will probably never do that again. Returning from the physiotherapist in Huntsville the other day, I got a call (hands free of course, because we all know it is illegal to hold a cell phone while driving) from Purolator delivery to inform me that my SD cards were undeliverable. Purlolator does not have “a station” in Katrine. Well who does?! I thought those guys deliver everywhere. I was mistaken. Apparently they will only deliver locally if there is enough demand in the area, and that does not happen in Katrine, in the middle of winter (which apparently April is around here ), when the snow and ice are 6’ high. For my $8 delivery charge (it was still a better deal than buying locally) I had to travel 12 kilometres to pick up the package. I was particularly amused to see that four SD cards, with a combined size of approximately 4 square inches, were packed in a box large enough to hold a box of Kleenex. A small padded envelope would have sufficed and would have fit in my P.O box in Katrine! Oy.

Did you ever notice that those stickers they put on produce are sometimes impossible to remove? You know, the ones which tell you in tiny letters that the product is actually from Mexico, even though the sign on the bin indicates it was grown in Ontario. I destroyed a tomato the other day trying to unpeel one of these things. It’s a bit like the twist off beer bottle cap that will not twist because some stoner at the bottling plant decided to glue it on as a practical joke. My wife and mother-in-law are convinced that produce grown in Mexico will make them sick. Ironically, they don’t seem to have a problem with Peru and Costa Rica, and the twenty other countries wherein the water is perhaps not as clean as it should be.

OK, I win the Darwin Award of the week. We use a homemade concoction to repel squirrels which involves boiling habanero peppers in water and then using the mixture to make a pepper spray. The other day I crushed up some of the peppers to boil – they are very hot peppers – and then I went to the washroom to have a pee. Need I say more? I thought I had a urinary tract infection for about a half hour! We used to buy stuff called “Critter Buster” in a spray bottle but they charge an arm and a leg for what I can easily make in my kitchen. Fun fact: pepper spray is an effective deterrent for all sorts of pests. Advice? Wash your hands after handling hot peppers; I speak from personal experience!

                               -  Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 3/31/14

Though it is rare for us to do much travelling together in the winter, Shauna and I drove down to Orillia on Thursday night, about a one and one half hour drive south from our home in Katrine, to attend a performance of Stuart McLean’s Vinyl Café. Sometimes compared to Garrison Keillor’s The Prairie Home Companion, Mclean’s show is equally amusing and airs weekly on CBC radio (http://www.cbc.ca/podcasting/includes/vinylcafe.xml.)  Shauna and I love Vinyl Cafe, and as an early 20th anniversary gift, Shauna managed to get tickets to this sold out performance. McLean is a very witty humorist, and his delivery is excellent. His featured singer/songwriter for this show was Lynn Miles, and though I was not familiar with her work, I am now a big fan. After the show we were still buzzing with the endorphins that great humor stimulates, and we grabbed a quick bite to eat in town before heading home back up Highway 11. I didn’t think much of the light snow falling as we left Orillia, but within fifteen minutes on the road, we were in the middle of a full blown snowstorm. We drove nervously through whiteout conditions for most of the ride home. As I have said before, that particular stretch of Ontario highway is notorious for its sometimes severe winter driving conditions, and Thursday night was a textbook example. A week into spring and I experienced my first white knuckle drive of the season!

Boy, am I sick of winter! I’m sure the Maritimers are fed up as well as last week they dug out from yet another brutal blizzard. My new project, while I am incarcerated in the icy grip of March, is to re-upholster my couch with groundhog pelts. I’ve got to take this aggression out on somebody, and besides, those weather groundhogs are waaaay overpaid. All the animals around here are freaking out, and we are all ticked off that Jack Frost has not yet thrown in the towel. The locals are calling this the worst winter in 40 years, and I read that this winter has been particularly hard on the local wild life. Deer are starving, especially the fauns, and the migrating birds that have already returned probably wish they hadn’t. Friday afternoon I looked out our front window and spotted a red fox on our front lawn. It is rare that we see fox, and this one looked pretty desperate and hungry. Of course as soon as she saw it, Jasper went into convulsions, and I had to explain to her how lucky she was to be an “indoor dog.” With all the wild turkeys wandering around in the vicinity, I am surprised that fox was in need of food.

They still haven’t found that Malaysian Airlines jet and last week recovery efforts were again hampered by severe weather. Last I checked there was a rather substantial debris field showing up on radar, but so far no confirmations. As one searcher said, they have not yet located the haystack, much less the needle, although as of last week the search was narrowed to a large area four hours off the west coast of Australia. I don’t think there could be a much more remote area to search, and one is reminded how difficult this task is to carry out.  Very hard to get closure when no one knows where the plane went down. Perhaps it flew into a parallel universe.

Actress Gwyneth Paltrow and Coldplay front man Chris Martin have separated after ten years of marriage. As they put it, they “consciously uncoupled.” Really? I thought that is something one does to train cars. The big talk and sabre rattling continue over Russia’s annexation of the Crimea, but short of trade sanctions (and are those even effective?) I don’t see anybody stepping in to change things. The Juno Awards took place last night, and just to name drop, we know two of the performers personally. My friend Tim Hicks, who is becoming a huge hit in country music circles, played in the Bachman Turner Overdrive salute, and our friend Mark Puffer was band leader for the Gord Bamford Band. Both of these guys are talented, hard-working musicians and it was good to see them play on Canada’s center stage for music.

That’s all for now. Time to go into town for my physiotherapy session. A few months ago I slipped on the ice and injured my shoulder. Just another casualty of this lovely winter. It’s almost over, right????!!

 

     -  Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 3/24/14

Yesterday, I travelled down to Bracebridge to attend the live recording session of friend and fellow songwriter, Sean Cotton. The studio where the recording was to take place was is called Ghetto Blaster Sound Factory, and I figured with a name like that, it would not be hard to find. I was wrong. I followed the directions on my GPS and, uncharacteristically, it did lead me to the general vicinity of the studio. As the GPS lady with the Aussie accent announced that I had reached my destination, I looked around to discover that “there was no there there.” I found myself in an industrial park which was, by all appearances, empty. Immediately to my right there was a parking lot full of empty school buses, in front of me a bunch of empty barn-like buildings, and to my left there were a few industrial buildings. It was then I recalled another musician friend telling me that this place would be hard for me to find. I drove all over the area looking for any signs of life, but there were none. Had it been a Saturday, perhaps there would have been someone walking about to ask, but all I saw was the snow blowing horizontally on an industrial wasteland; a flashback to how I spent a good part of my 25 years in the industrial real estate business. With fifteen minutes left until the recording session was to start, I got the sinking feeling I was in the wrong place, and I was cursing myself for not getting better directions from Sean. I called Shauna at home and asked her to look up the studio to see if there was a telephone number, and perhaps some directions that I had overlooked. She gave me a phone number to call, which of course was someone’s cell and unavailable. Then there was a stroke of luck. While I was on the phone I saw a taxi cab drive by in this otherwise deserted area, and I thought, this must be someone headed to the recording session. I followed it and sure enough, the cab stopped at a nondescript metal shed,completely hidden behind another industrial building, with no visible signs from the road. There was a guy smoking a cigarette outside a door with “MUSIC STUDIO” written on a cardboard sign in magic marker. I had reached my destination. I am happy I made it, because the recording session was interesting, the music was fantastic, and I had a chance to talk with Mike Lopez, one of the founders of Tree Ring Records and a musician with whom I had wanted to connect for a while. All in all, it was a good experience. 

I wish I understood global politics better, because I do not know what to make of Russia’s annexation of the Crimea. Some have likened this action and the U.S. decision to invade Iraq. In terms of “right" and "wrong” or "legal" and "illegal" I have no idea. I watched an interesting interview on Jon Stewart last Monday with some expert on Russian affairs who seems to feel that Putin’s decision to annex the Crimea was ill-advised. Apart from the kangaroo court referendum held to “let the people decide” there is the damage done to Putin’s credibility in the U.N. Now Russia faces economic sanctions from Europe and North America, but Putin doesn’t seem to care. He appears to be preparing to take over the entire Ukraine. What will “Mommy Jeans” Obama do about this one? Conservative pundits are comparing Obama to Putin and painting him as spineless and ineffective, but come on.  You’ve got to love Fox News for their unbiased reporting.

As I began writing this week’s installment there was still little to report on that missing Malaysian Airlines jet, but there were aerial photographs of some large pieces of floating debris which might have been from the crash. I haven’t seen this much rampant speculation about an unsolved mystery since the OJ trial. Nobody really knows what happened, but as each news source scrambles to break the big story, everyone is rolling out the flight experts, the psychologists, the fire experts, and even the completely unqualified to offer an opinion. If it sells ad space go for it, right? The problem is, there are hundreds of devastated families trying to find out where their missing loved ones have gone, and this kind of reporting must be hurtful to them. Did the pilot try to hide something by deleting files on his flight simulator, and is this some kind of red flag that he is a bad guy? Maybe he was just doing what a pilot should do in a crisis. I read an interesting theory on the disappearance of Flight 370, written by one veteran pilot. He suggests that all this speculation about nefarious intentions is off track, and that some other kind of catastrophic event took place on the flight. He suggests that an electrical fire might have broken out causing the tracking devices to stop working, and that the flight pattern was consistent with a pilot trying to land at an appropriate runway, found along the diversionary track. This line of thinking may turn out to be closer to the truth, but we may never know exactly what happened. I'm not sure there has ever been such a comprehensive search for a missing airplane

Watching one of those music competition shows the other night on TV I noticed a female vocalist who was otherwise attractive, but who had multiple face piercings and a grim, pale white complexion – sort of that heroin sheik look that was so fashionable among the emaciated supermodels ten years ago. I decided that her stage name should be “Zombie Tacklebox.” Then I started to think, “Hey, what a great name for my first album!" Look for James Oppenheimer’s seminal first effort “Zombie Tacklebox,” recorded at Ghetto Blaster Sound. I can picture the cover photo now!

 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 3/17/14

With spring scheduled to arrive on Thursday, I’m not running out to buy plants for the garden just yet. This has been a ballbuster of a winter, and if I hear the term polar vortex one more time, I’m going to hunt down a groundhog and strangle it with my bare hands (just kidding, I’ll use a gun). Due to this frigid winter and the wild temperature fluctuations, we have had some weather-related issues at Jasper Bark Lodge. For one thing, there have been some roof problems. Ice build-up in the valleys of our roof has been an issue in the past, and a few years ago we installed heat lines to keep that buildup under control. This winter was so unusually cold winter, most of the time it was too cold for the heat lines to be effective. Our Hydro bills have been astronomical (don’t get me started on the electric company!) so I unplugged the heat lines during the extreme cold snap. As it turns out, that was a big mistake.  I forgot to plug them back in when the temperature rose, and now we have thick ice covering our roof, blocking drainage in the valleys. In places the ice is a foot thick on our roof now, and it could be a while before it melts. We should also have been shoveling the snow off the roof as it accumulated, but again, the weather was a factor. Our roof is about 25’ at peak, steep, and a little dangerous to be walking around on in the winter. Next year I will not make the same mistakes.

Another unanticipated problem related to the temperature fluctuations is that the logs which make up this house have been checking (cracking) more than usual. Moisture in the logs expands, and sometimes it sounds like a gun going off. It is quite alarming when that loud bang goes off at 3AM.  I’ve heard a few locals complain about this happening to their houses as well, and there is very little we can do about this. A minor casualty this winter was the starter motor on my ATV. I tried starting the bike one morning when the mercury dipped to about -15F, and that apparently put undo strain on the motor. After a few tries, it finally burned out. Live and learn. Better to run a trickle charge on the battery in extreme temperatures, or put some kind of low voltage heating device on the engine block. Again I am learning from my mistakes, but I am hoping this winter will not be the norm from now on. Between the issues with propane delivery, the occasional inaccessibility of our driveway, and the weather related mechanical failures, this winter has been Snowmageddon for us. While next week promises to be a little warmer (it was -11F last night), I think it will be a while before we see robins on the lawn. Because of the volume of snow we have, the concern on the minds of many locals now is flooding. Every spring there is a debate about how the municipalities regulate the flow to the waterways that take spring runoff down to the Georgian Bay, and I’d sure like to know what they’re going to do about it this year. Last year we had bad flooding and it was a relatively mild winter.

Did anyone see that mock interview with Zach Galifianakis and Justin Bieber on the internet comedy show Funny or Die? Tres Amusant. Galifianakis has done a lot of these spoof interviews, including one with President Obama, and from what I have seen I think they are pretty funny. Galifianakis reminds me a little of the late Andy Kauffman, channeled with Bob Newhart. While his edgy, off-putting humor makes me a little uncomfortable, he also makes me laugh.

They still don’t know what happened to the missing Malaysian Airlines Flight 370. Malaysian authorities are finally on record as confirming it must have been some kind of hijacking, but have not been particularly cooperative in sharing their information with outside investigators. Watching the bizarre flight path, and knowing that several different tracking devices had been consciously disabled, one is left to conclude that this was some sort of foul play. Still, apart from speculation- and there has been no shortage of that - no evidence has yet surfaced to indicate exactly what did happen to the jet or to its 239 passengers. I think it is probably at the bottom of the Indian Ocean, and the more time that passes, the less likely it is that anyone will know the truth. What was the motive? I feel terrible for the families of the victims. The uncertainty about what happened, coupled with the increasingly likelihood that this was some kind of terrifying hijacking, must be torture for these surviving families. Who did this? Was it the pilot, the co-pilot; one of the passengers on board?  Some have suggested the missing jet secretly landed somewhere, but that seems unlikely. This was a big jet, requiring a skilled pilot to set it down, not to mention n at least 6000’ of runway. Perhaps they will eventually locate the jet, but the search field keeps getting wider and the clues are still few and far between. Very strange to have something so big simply vanish into thin air.

Come on spring!!

 
Cold vinyl car seats, wipers that freeze
Scrape the windshield search the snow for my keys
Five layers of clothing, thermal socks on my feet
Winter is kicking the crap out of me! (excerpt from Cabin Fever)

  -  Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 3/10/14

ENOUGH ALREADY !!!

Shauna and I went to a CD release dinner/show at Michaels on Main up in nearby Sundridge last Thursday evening to celebrate the release of local singer/songwriter Sean Cotton’s newest CD, entitled Sean Cotton's Wooden Spaceship. Also on the bill was Scott Gilson, another talented local artist, who capably performed several of his own original tunes. While there wasn’t a huge crowd – it’s tough to get people out on a school night, especially during this oppressive winter - it was one of those magical nights I wished I’d recorded. Sean was “in the zone” and he impressed both Shauna and me with his songwriting and performing skills. He simply reinforced what I have come to know over the past several years, namely that this little community is brimming with talent. Sean is an interesting guy, and while I don’t pretend to know him well - in fact I just met him a month ago - I have grown to respect him for what he is doing. He moved up to Burk’s Falls about 4 or 5 years ago after working as a successful professional musician in Toronto for about 15 or 20 years. If I can read between the lines, he got tired of touring with a band, and of the toll that takes on one’s personal life. He moved up north to Burk’s Falls to settle down and focus more on his family life. His quality of life may have improved but he has done anything but settle down. He is actively involved in the burgeoning local music community and, along with several of his musical colleagues, has formed Tree Ring Records, a sort of loosely based musical consortium, focused on shining the spotlight on the huge pool of local talent. He is a modest, remarkably talented musician and songwriter, and he has been a great influence on the local songwriting community. I hope that I have the opportunity to collaborate with him in the near future.

I thought Mayor Rob Ford came across as relatively sane on Jimmy Kimmel last Monday. He remained standing after nine rounds of Kimmel pummeling him with those incriminating videos, and that was no mean feat. I am reminded of the very contrite Hugh Grant appearing on Leno years ago to make a public apology after he had had sex with some Hollywood hooker. Somehow that did not really hurt his career, other than that he lost his girlfriend, British supermodel Liz Hurley. The beleaguered Toronto Mayor kept his composure and took the abuse, looking appropriately embarrassed, yet not falling into the trap of trying to defend himself. The subtext: let he who has not been so completely hammered that he forgot that smoking crack was outrageously bad judgment cast the first aspersion. Face it, haven’t we all been there? No? Most people would think Ford was insane to put himself at the mercy of a guy like Kimmel, but I suspect it was a good public relations move. Really, what has Ford got to lose at this point, the guy is the most recognized international buffoon of the year? He has already suffered about as much public infamy and ridicule as any one man could fear to achieve, and as I said in last week’s report, now it’s time to let the dysfunction work in his favor. Ford is basically saying yes, my personal life is a bit of a train wreck, but I don’t take any crap from the hypocritical politicians with whom I work; and oh, by the way, who among them is without sin? It may come down to lies, damn lies and statistics. Has he actually done good things for the Toronto taxpayers, as he claims he has, or is it all crack smoke and mirrors? He still denies that he has a drinking problem, and I think this is going to bite him in his gargantuan ass. Whether or not the Toronto police chief, or Ford’s other political enemies want to smear his reputation, he is digging himself a pretty deep hole. Even some of his own supporters must wish that his circus would pack up and move to another town. Appropriately, he looked somewhat clownish on Kimmel’s show, dressed a bit like a 40s gangster, all in black with a bright red necktie and handkerchief. All that was missing was the Tommy gun. Again, if this hail Mary spin works, what is the down side?

Just after they did such a nice job hosting the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics, Russia has sent troops in to occupy the Crimean Peninsula, and threatens to annex it. Sabers are rattling, and I wonder if we’re headed for another cold war. A Malaysian Airlines jet disappeared from radar en route to Beijing, and so far no one knows where the jet or its 239 passengers have gone. Rather strange that two of the passengers on the flight were carrying stolen passports, but so far no one seems to know what happened. There was a scary segment on 60 Minutes last night about data brokers, the companies that harvest your personal information every time you log on to the internet. If you thought it was your little secret that you have been visiting that bestiality website, guess again. Seriously, I do not think about the fact that someone is watching my every click on the internet, but I have always suspected that this was going on. All those "cookies" are not for eating. We may think we are password protected, but the horse is out of the barn and he didn't look before he leapt.

I wonder what kind of dirt we'd find on Rob Ford’s computer?!

  -  Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 3/3/14

I listened to an interesting piece on the radio the other day about a study suggesting that new technology is rewiring the minds of children. Apparently, kids are becoming so used to instant gratification, and instant information, that their attention spans are suffering. It is possible that the whole process of learning is changing. Not a good thing, the study implies. For a long time I have suspected this to be true, and I see evidence of this everywhere from customer service departments to the ways in which young kids interact with each other. Take away the cell phone, and the computer, and the television, and you might as well be locking your child up in a Turkish prison cell. Do you ever wonder what happens to a kid’s brain when he or she plays a violent video game for hours every day? When one is rewarded for eviscerating one’s foe with a chainsaw, or exploding someone’s head with a ray gun, doesn’t that have an effect on one’s perception of reality? I think it must.

In the news last week, the mayoral race is beginning to heat up in Toronto. Likely because Mayor Rob Ford has made such a circus out of Toronto City Hall, prospective candidates are eagerly throwing their hats in the ring to dethrone him. It most certainly won’t be pretty, and Ford has vowed he will battle to keep his job. The I’m-Not-The-Crack-Smoking-Drunken-Bum-Who-Urinates-In-Public-Places-And-Calls-The-Police-Chief-A-F-ing-C-cksucker-I’m-The-Other-Guy” ticket will only get you so far, and Ford opponents should expect a nasty, dirty campaign, full of mudslinging and baseless innuendo … you know, like any election in the United States. The problem with running a squeaky clean campaign is that eventually, most politicians are revealed to have some skeletons in the closet, and the glaring light of hypocrisy is particularly bright when shone upon the self-righteous. I can’t wait for this race to get going; it will be just like the last Republican primaries in the U.S.! My early prediction is that Conservative John Tory, who lost to Ford in the last mayoral election, will give the bellicose mayor a run for his money this time around. Tory is a smart, capable guy, with a good track record. As for his behavior, Tory seems like a class act, and certainly presents himself well when compared to those bullying, championship wrestler wannabes that are Doug and Rob Ford.  I can’t wait to see what mud the “Ford Nation” will try to sling at this seemingly eligible candidate. If Tory has any weaknesses, best to reveal them early and take the wind out of the sails of those tag team goofballs. I can’t wait to see what Jimmy Kimmel does in his upcoming interview with Ford tonight. I’ve got a haunting suspicion that Ford might figure out a way to use his infamy to his own advantage. Remember, spin wins. We all know how stupid and impressionable voters can be, myself included. People sometimes vote for the devil they know. “Hey, I’m no choirboy, but…”

Speaking of Sponge-Rob Tent-Pants, one of the above photographs was lifted from the Times Picayune in New Orleans, and it is a picture of one of the floats in a recent New Orleans event known as The Krewe D’Etat Parade. Clearly this float is taking a swipe at our illustrious mayor, and perhaps at other elements of Canada as well, but isn’t it wonderful! I think the photo speaks for itself, but all the floats in this parade were creative and bitingly satirical. Google 2014 NOLA.com/ The Times Picayune to see the other floats in that parade. By comparison, the second photo featured above was taken last Saturday at the world famous Katrine Karnival Parade,  which conveniently takes place less than two miles from our house. Our budget up here is a little smaller, but we do the best we can. As is usually the case, there were more people in the parade than watching it. This year I participated in the bed race competition, and our team won our first heat before a devastating crash took us out of the running in the second heat. I feel there was illegal contact with the other bed racing team, but the replays were inconclusive. We live and breathe excitement up here in the Great White North and our parades rival anything them Frenchies in Louisiana got to offer ... and that polar kotex don’t bother us!

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 2/24/14



People have been sending us links lately showing dogs doing remarkable tricks, and I’m afraid our dog Jasper may be developing an inferiority complex. My neighbor Rick sent me an amusing video clip of a German Shepherd shoveling snow. One clip in particular caught my eye; it was of a little Jack Russell Terrier named Jesse, who did everything from make the bed to take out the garbage. He even put his dog dish in the dishwasher, which I think is adorable. I’m told Jack Russells are very smart dogs, but stubborn and hard to train. When we lived in downtown Toronto, there was one living down the hall in our apartment building, and Jack (clever name huh?) barked constantly. Jasper hated him. Actually, everyone on the floor hated Jack. Each time we went down the hall to take the elevator down for our walk, Jasper would sniff at his door to taunt him. This, of course, sent Jack into convulsions, and he would repeatedly throw himself against the door in a frothing rage, screaming his head off. This was particularly troublesome on Sunday mornings. He was the coyote to Jasper’s roadrunner. Jasper loves to mix it up, and she has some serious attitude.

Everybody likes to think their pet is brilliant, but sometimes this just isn’t true. My sister had a mutt named Stanley about forty years ago, and Stanley had what I call “character.” I think he was an idiot savant, because in some respects he was very intelligent. Stanley had an enormous vocabulary and could fetch any one of his many toys upon command. On the other hand, he did not have the common sense to look where he was going. I once called him, and he looked back at me, kept walking, and fell off a 7’ break wall. He had one ear that stuck up and I think it was because he had a tendency to walk into walls. I suppose we could teach Jasper to fetch the paper, or do some other menial task that humans usually do, but I feel this is beneath her. I prefer to let her think she owns the house and protects us from squirrels and other rodents. In the back yard of my parents’ house in Buffalo she once protected me from a rabbit, although I’m not sure whether it was so much protecting me as it was her wanting to kill the rabbit. Frankly that rabbit didn’t seem like much of a threat. It freaked me out though; I’d never seen her kill anything before. I guess it's in her genes; she goes nuts every time she sees any rodent. My friend Bob called her “Redbeard” for weeks after this first kill, which I know he did just to annoy me. Anyhow, I had the brilliant idea the other day to film Jasper doing ridiculous “tricks” she does on a daily basis. For instance, I will wait until she is about to eliminate and speak the command “Jasper, poop!”  Or feed her, and just as she is lunging for her dinner, utter the command “Eat!” Then I can post these on the internet to parody the un-ending need of some pet owners to prove their pet is sharper than all the rest. Perhaps there’s a MENSA test for dogs.

As the Sochi Winter Olympic Games wound down and the torch was extinguished, there were plenty of surprises, as there always are.  The big upsets that caught my eye were the Russian and United States men’s hockey teams who both failed to make the podium. That U.S. 5-0 loss to Finland in the bronze round was hard to watch.  I am sure Vlad was disappointed that his Russian hockey team did not medal, but his country still won the most medals overall. Yesterday morning we woke up early enough to watch the Canada - Sweden game, and thankfully, Canada won the gold. Sweden was without several key players, but nonetheless, Canada played an almost flawless game. Once again CBC did not disappoint, providing excellent coverage of all the events, while NBC decidedly did not.  While I am in fact a Yank, I’d have enjoyed being on Yonge Street in Toronto last night to party with all the jubilant Canadian fans. We all know that Canadians take their ice hockey very seriously, having invented the sport and all. Overall Canadian athletes did very well (3^rd in number of gold medals and 2^nd in silver medals), and may rank even higher when all the drug tests are done. I also enjoyed the bobsled races and the slalom events (snowboard and ski). Too bad the courses were so sloppy. Final note, the question on everybody’s mind this week is what is next for the Ukraine. After a week of bloody violence, President Yanukovych has stepped down, but will anything really change? Is Putin likely to stay out of this? I doubt it.

Jasper, don’t be jealous of Jesse, you’re still the top dog in this family.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

The Oppenheimer Repor 2/17/14

Photo from the D.Jordan Taylor Collection

At present there are two celebrities who I think are becoming a little bit overexposed. The first one is Morgan Freeman, or more specifically, Morgan Freeman’s voice. Don’t get me wrong, I like Morgan Freeman. I like his cool demeanor, I like his distinctive voice, and I’ve enjoyed almost every role I’ve seen him play. That said, his voice is in about every other commercial voice over I hear on television, and it’s enough already. Shauna indicated on Facebook that she “liked” his voice, and now, every day, she gets an unwanted post of a quote wherein she is to imagine Freeman’s voice reciting it (perhaps from movies he’s been in, I don’t know). I’m serious! Josh Robert Thompson, the voice of the wisecracking gay robot, Geoff Peterson, on Craig Ferguson’s Late, Late Show (which I enjoy), does a great impression of Freeman and occasionally says wildly inappropriate things using Freeman’s voice. The other celebrity of whom I could do with a little less is Sir Paul McCartney. I am a huge fan of the Beatles, and I mean no disrespect to Paul, or the band, or to their music. It just seems like McCartney is everywhere performing these days, and while he was a great singer, I’m afraid he’s not always firing on all cylinders anymore. I don’t want to see my icons decaying in public. Also, it’s a little creepy seeing an almost 70 year old man singing “She was just seventeen.” Can you say “statutory rape?” Ditto Jagger. I love some of the music of The Rolling Stones, but Mick Jagger is beginning to annoy me. Onstage he struts around like a rooster, and aging poultry is not a pretty sight.

Last week marked the 50^th anniversary of the Beatles debut on The Ed Sullivan Show. I just watched the Grammy Salute to The Beatles which I’d recorded last week.  I thought it was very entertaining, and I vaguely remember watching that debut with my sister Jill back in 1964. I was eight. I even remember our clunky Zenith console color TV, with a channel changer that sounded like an automatic weapon firing. I also recall seeing a lot of other artists for the first time on The Ed Sullivan Show. Bands like The Dave Clark Five, The Rolling Stones, The Mamas and the Papas, The Kinks (I think), and The Beach Boys. I like a lot of Beatles songs, and it was interesting to hear some of them covered by contemporary artists in the salute (with varying degrees of success). Lots of celebrity musicians played and sang for the celebration and that was cool. I particularly liked hearing Keith Urban perform Don’t Let Me Down with John Mayer. Great guitar work. Peter Frampton, Joe Walsh, Don Was, Jeff Lynne, Annie Lenox, and more - it was the who’s who of rock ‘n roll. I liked hearing George Harrison’s son Dhani playing along with Joe Walsh and Jeff Lynne on Hear Comes the Sun, because I could hear George’s voice in there somewhere. Brief aside, Yoko’s got some miles on her. I never understood what John saw in her, and I will never forgive her for breaking up the band (oh come on, of course I’m kidding). Sean now looks like a carbon copy of his dad back in the 80’s. McCartney looked pretty good, though I have to agree with Craig Ferguson, who often pokes fun at the aging Beatle’s resemblance to Angela Lansbury (circa Murder That Bitch). Not usually of fan of Ringo’s music, I enjoyed his set. And who doesn’t recognize Yellow Submarine? Shauna asked me what that song is about, and I told her “three and a half minutes.” I mean, come on, what is I am the Walrus about? All I can say is, those boys must have been taking some primo acid.

Final comments on the Sochi Winter Olympics… Short track speed skating is an insane sport. So are most of the snowboarding and skiing events.  Local Canadian slopestyle competitor Dara Howell took home a gold making her hometown (Huntsville is 20 miles from us) proud. I never saw a skier spend so much time skiing backwards. I have tried to embrace curling, I know there is great skill involved, but I’m just not feeling it. Same for the Nordic ski events. The hockey has been impressive and it was fun to see the U.S.A beat Russia in a prolonged nail biter of a shootout. Canada’s team looks strong. It will be interesting to see who wins the gold because there is a lot of strong competition and there’s a long way to gold. Once again, way to go CBC for your excellent coverage.

Paul, you did a great version of Hey Jude in the Grammy salute, let it be your “last waltz.” Somebody go gentle into that good night, please!

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 2/10/14

The other day, I learned that a friend of ours was a member of Mensa, an IQ society for the most intelligent people in the world. Of course, one needs to score verifiably high on an IQ test to become eligible. I probably took an IQ test at some point in my early childhood, but I do not remember ever hearing how I scored. My parents were probably too embarrassed to tell me (and I never asked). “It’s OK honey, you’re special in so many other ways.” No one ever offered me admission into Mensa, that’s for sure. Shauna found a series of Mensa tests on the internet, and she took 4 of them. She answered almost all the questions correctly, which didn’t surprise me. The testee (testes?) is given certain clues and is then required to fill in the blanks with the answer. For instance, the clue might be 24 H in a D, and of course the answer is 24 hours in a day. Easy, right? The clues get harder as you go down the list. Some of them were extremely difficult, but Shauna scored in the “genius” range. I answered some of the clues as well. I quickly surpassed the “drooling moron without a pulse” category, flew past “not-the-sharpest-knife-in-the-drawer” and was closing in on “average” when I lost interest and went back to watching something mind-numbing on television. One of the clues was 7 D S … seven deadly sins, which of course, I answered correctly. Figures I would get that one. To refresh your memory, the original seven deadly sins are: Lust, greed, gluttony, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. I think you’d have to be a special kind of jerk to embody all seven sins. That said, there are plenty of other ways for a person to misbehave. Let us not forget idolatry, sorcery, drunkenness, fornication, uncleanness, murder, sedition, adultery, hatred, envy, producer of reality television; and we’re just getting started . I think sloth and gluttony are two of my bigger problems. I had three, count ‘em three large cookies last night after dinner, and then I had a butter tart muffin to wash them down. But I digress from my digression.

The 2014 Winter Olympic Games kicked off last Friday in Sochi, Russia, and as always, the opening ceremony was spectacular to behold. Closet pyromaniac that I am, I always like to watch the lighting of the torch. Too bad about that snowflake malfunction, but hey, those things happen. The Vancouver Winter Olympic Games were not without their glitches, and does anybody remember when all those doves got incinerated during the torch lighting at the Seoul Olympics? Much has been made of the terrorist threat in Russia and I kept expecting to see one of those crazy Chechen rebels jump out from the crowd and blow him or herself up, but so far the only fireworks have been purely for entertainment. I could be wrong, but I think that human rights are a little more carefully guarded here in North America than they are in Russia. I’d hate to be someone on the terrorist list anywhere near Sochi. I imagine the macho, homophobic, Vlad Putin would be all too happy to scorch the earth and “clean house,” and I doubt he would be especially worried about collateral damage. And if you’re unfortunate enough to be a gay Russian terrorist, fuggetabotit. Remember, Vlad’s the guy backing Syria’s current genocide, and he has a lot riding on this event. After spending about $50 Billion of his countrymen’s money to host these games (apparently more than any other country has ever spent), I think he will do whatever he can to avoid any kind of terrorist violence. Of course, how does one protect against a foe that is willing to sacrifice his or her own life? You can’t really.

Finally, this was an action-packed weekend up here in the Great White North. Not only did I catch a few hours of the nearby Kearney Dogsled Races, but I made it there in time to watch the parade of vintage snowmobiles (see above photo). I also attended this month’s Katrine Jamboree. Woo hoo. The guy with whom I am presently recording is the sound man for these monthly jamborees, and he introduced me to a local performer from the Huntsville area named Tina Turley. She’s very talented, sounds a bit like Melissa Etheridge, and plays with a good band up here. I’m hoping I might be able to persuade her to sing on one of my demos.

I wonder if an unclean sorcerer would be considered better or worse on the sin scale than say an idol-worshipping fornicator. I may not be a genius, but I am inquisitive.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 2/3/14

Do something every day that scares you, isn’t that what they say? For some people that might be jumping out of an airplane, or learning Cantonese, or confronting one’s arachnophobia. For me, it is the act of believing in myself.  I did something that scared the hell out of me last Wednesday, and it felt pretty good. Last Wednesday I played seven of my songs (including my marriage proposal song to Shauna) on a radio show called “Talent on the Bay” broadcast by Hunters Bay Radio in nearby Huntsville. Doug McClean, one of my fellow songwriters up here had put in a good word for me at the station, and I was invited by Christine Heron, the host of the show, to come on and perform.

At the end of last week’s report (which 12 people read) I’d mentioned in passing that I would be playing the show, and that was the last I spoke of it to anyone. Ever my biggest fan and promoter, Shauna got busy on her phone and on Facebook spreading the word to as many friends and family as she could contact. People were surprisingly supportive, before and after the show, and I want you all to know that this meant a lot to me.

 I was not sure until the day of the broadcast if I would even make it; so many obstacles conspired against me. Apart from my trepidation about performing, the weather was atrocious, and Wednesday morning, we had not yet been plowed out at the house. As well, at about 5AM Wednesday morning, Shauna awakened me from my much-needed beauty sleep, very upset because we once again had a flying squirrel in our bedroom. That extraction took about an hour and left me completely wired. I sat in bed for the next three hours staring at the ceiling and imagining the hundred ways I could make a complete fool of myself on air. Maybe I’ll fall into a narcoleptic stupor mid song. Perhaps I’ll prove myself to be a musical imposter for all of Muskoka to hear. As I braved horizontal snow-blown Highway 11 to Huntsville, my old companions, self-doubt and fear, swam around in my brain, wreaking havoc on my self-confidence. I wondered how I could have ever agreed to such a potentially disastrous experience. What am I trying to prove here; do my songs really deserve to be heard?? Such arrogance! I arrived at the station early and sat nervously in my car for five minutes, watching the winter storm stir up little tornadoes of snow all around me. Even Mother Nature doesn’t want me to do this! I had rehearsed some songs – I was told to have 4-7 available to play – but I wasn’t sure how I would respond to the questions I might be asked. Thankfully, everyone at the station was great, and Christine was affable and easy to talk to. A fellow singer/songwriter herself she seems to be passionate about music, and she put me at ease almost immediately. The next hour was a blur. While I know I made mistakes in my performances, I did get my songs out there and did not completely choke. In short, I succeeded in presenting a few of my stronger songs to a larger listening audience than I had so far reached. And I have a recording of the event.

Hunters Bay Radio has been around for a while, but is presently only accessible online. That is about to change, because they have received their license from the CRTC and are slated to go on the air as an FM station this Spring (88.7 for anyone in range). I think the station has great potential, and I have offered my services as a volunteer, because I like that this radio station supports  the local music community. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get do a radio show. Go to http://www.muskokaonline.com to learn more about Hunters Bay Radio, or you can do a YouTube search of Hunter’s Bay Radio to see and hear some of the local talent, including artists Christine Heron, Sean Cotton, Lewis and Clarke, Juan Barbosa, and Scott Gilson. All in all, a great learning experience for this wannabe songwriter.  

 
Actor Philip Seymour Hoffman has died at 46, the victim of an apparent drug overdose. I never had a clue the guy had a drug problem, probably because his work did not suffer, and he kept his personal life under wraps. Unlike the Lohans and the Biebers of the world, who wreck their trains in the center of town, Seymour Hoffman just seemed to get better and better at what he did. I am sorry that one of the truly talented actors, who did not have his head up his ass, has succumbed to this all too common affliction.

Note to self, when I become famous, I should stay away from the heroin.  

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 1/27/14

I never thought the day would come, but I finally went out and ordered a block heater for my car. Up here in the Great White North we have experienced the business end of that polar vortex which has enveloped the rest of the Northeast, and for this past week, the mercury sank to below -20 F almost every night. That is nose hair-freezing cold. Last Tuesday morning, I was supposed to drive to a nearby recording studio in Emsdale to finish a couple of songs I’d begun recording, and the outdoor thermometer read -27F.  I stuck the key in the ignition of my car, tried turning the engine over, and it sounded like the pistons were in mud. After three or four attempts, I realized that this engine was going to need a little help, so I pulled out my portable rechargeable battery pack, a handy thing to have for boat or car, and reached down to pop the hood. Not so quick. The hood was frozen shut! There was probably a little moisture on the cable that releases the hood latch, and that would not budge. Dead in the water, I called the guy at the studio and cancelled, which was disappointing. About three hours later in the day, in the noonday sun, after hitting the cable with a hair dryer, I finally got the hood open and managed to get the engine started. In all my years leaving my car outside in Buffalo winters, and my five years living up here, I have never before needed a block heater; but as soon as I got the car started, I drove over to the local auto shop and ordered one. When you see a plug sticking out the front of a car grill, it is likely for a block heater, and they are quite commonplace up here in the Great White North. I might need it once every two or three winters, but when I need it, I really need it. By the time I get it installed tomorrow, this polar blast might be over, but at least I’ll avoid this aggravation the next time.  

Just when we thought it could not get any worse for Toronto Mayor Rob Ford, yet another video surfaced last week of a drunken, slurring Ford in a fast food restaurant, ranting on about something with a terrible Jamaican accent. Someone emailed me the above photograph after the incident. No crackhead no cry. Funny, because a few days before the video surfaced, I had prematurely suggested that Ford was beginning to look like he had cleaned up his act. He appeared to be a little thinner, he was speaking in complete sentences; he looked pretty good. But now, he hasn’t just fallen off the wagon, he’s jumped head first into the empty pool. When the press grilled him about his latest offensive public behavior, he used the old “what-I-do-on-my-own-time -with- friends-is-my-business” line. Yo,Your Honourless, if you are going to misbehave, do it in private, which means not in a fast food restaurant, and tell your “friends” not to videotape you on their cell phones! It may be true that the press has it out for Ford, but goodness knows he’s made it easy! In what universe did he assume it was O.K. to screw up in public, yet again? This isn’t Mayberry; you don’t just sleep it off in jail and let yourself out in the next morning (cryptic reference to my man Otis). One might even get away with this nonsense in some rustbelt city, but you are the mayor of a major international city, WAKE UP!!!Up until now, and given the incredible ability of constituencies to forgive the bad behavior of their elected officials, I would have predicted that a clean and sober Rob Ford, rising from his own ashes, might have had a chance at re-election. Again, look at former D.C. mayor Marion Barry. But I am fairly sure this latest faux pas, picked up by every major news source and every late night talk show host in the world, will be the nail in the coffin for SpongeRob Tentpants. The good news, if there is any, is that for all the people out there with drinking problems, Ford is a poster child for just how glaringly obvious your problem is, to everyone but you.

Speaking of bad behavior, Justin the Biebster finally crossed the line as well. That DUI in Miami could be an expensive mistake for the Prince of Pop. Nice mug shot by the way, almost as good as Nick Nolte’s. We all love it when celebrities misbehave, don’t we? While the young pop star did apparently pass the Breathalyzer test, he then admitted to smoking some weed and taking some prescription drugs. He also used the “F” word more than once in the presence of a police officer. What a badass motherfudger. Thank goodness I wasn’t famous when I was a teenager; I think I would have been a train wreck in the public eye. One part of me is sympathetic to this kid who is getting eaten alive by the press, and one side of me thinks he might deserve it if he’s acting like a little dickhead. Not every celebrity mishandles fame, but history reminds us over and over that fame can be corrosive. Winky needs to start listening to his publicist, or else step out of the spotlight for awhile. Speaking of fame, I will be interviewed on an internet radio station called Hunter’s Bay Radio  (http://www. muskokaonline.com) this Wednesday between 11:00AM and Noon. The show is called “Talent on the Bay”, and I will be playing a few of my songs during the interview. If you’re near a computer, it might be amusing to listen to me choke in public. Needless to say, I’m nervous, but excited.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 1/20/14

Last Saturday, I headed down to Toronto to meet my buddy Bob from Buffalo and to attend the annual Toronto International Boat Show. We’ve been going to these Toronto boat shows for a long time, starting back when I still lived in Buffalo, and  these shows are gradually becoming less and less interesting to me. Perhaps it is simply that there only so many pontoon boats, bass boats, sailboats and “personal watercraft” one can look at in a day before one gets bored. Both of us are becoming too impatient to stand in line for 20 minutes in order to board and inspect one of the trawlers, cabin cruisers, or the bigger sailboats. Perhaps it is that the two of us own great boats already and are not really interested in purchasing something new. If I were to replace my rig it would cost me about five times what I have into my present boat, and this is a strong disincentive. Bob’s boat, pictured above in last year’s WNY Poker run, is quite old (1972 I believe), and I suppose Bob would be happy to replace it with something like a 30’ Cigarette, when he finally cracks his Magnum in half on a rogue wave, but something like that would cost the equivalent of most family’s retirement savings. Besides, mooring a craft like that alone on choppy lake like Lake Erie can be a bit tricky. And we’re not getting any younger. During past shows Bob and I would have a couple of beers at the beer garden, listen to some poor bastard play Neil Young covers on a cheap PA system (great gig by the way), following which I would amuse myself by listening to Bob interrogate some ill-informed boat salesman about the defective nature of his product. Bob would ask a rhetorical question, such as: “How come the gel coat’s so wavy on the hull?” and then move in for the kill when the salesman started to back pedal from some ignorant misrepresentation. But presently, both Bob and I are on the wagon - it’s much easier to do this when your drinking buddy quits as well – and somehow the sport of salesman stalking isn’t quite as much fun without a buzz on. So we may need to find another annual event to entertain us. Mardi Gras isn’t going to be a lot of fun sober, so perhaps we’ll need to up the ante on boat shows. I’d like to attend the Miami show some day, because down there we’d see a lot more of the offshore boats that we want to see. Pipe dreams keep me going.        

There was a segment on the 11 O’Clock News last night entitled “Trouble on the Tracks” about some of the recent train derailments in Canada. After Lac-Megantic derailment in Quebec last July, which  killed dozens of people and burned down half the town, and which was reportedly the deadliest rail disaster in Canada since 1864, there was much discussion about the volatility of certain kinds of crude oil, and about the dubious safety of certain kinds of tanker cars used to transport this oil. I remember that disaster quite clearly because it happened the day my father-in-law had the massive stroke which ultimately took his life. That was one serious explosion and there were reports that the heat from its fireball could be felt 2 kilometers away from the blast. I read more about the disaster after seeing the TV segment and learned, among other things, that oil from the ruptured tanker cars poured into the storm sewer system and then exploded, wreaking havoc in the center of town.  Then there was a more recent tanker derailment in New Brunswick, and I believe one in the Midwestern United States as well, causing some to question whether oil should be transported by rail in close proximity to any populated area. Admittedly, I do not know much about the safety procedures in place for transporting oil, but this Keystone Pipeline that the Harper government is so avidly promoting seems to have the potential to cause some major damage. Neil Young, the king of protest songs, is not making any friends in the Province of Alberta right now. He is presently raising money on an abbreviated concert tour to protest the oil sands and a proposed pipeline development in the Northern part of that province. Disregarding, as we always seem to do, the environmental ramifications of pipelines, of fracking, and of transporting volatile materials like Bakken crude, not to mention the increased vulnerability to terrorist attacks, we always seem to go for the cheapest energy solution, don’t we? Really what incentive is there for oil companies to change direction, when there is still a plentiful supply of and demand for black gold? No sir, the caboose has left the station, everybody don their asbestos drag racing suits, and don’t forget the weenies and marshmallows.

Final note … just when the NHL and other pro sports organizations are starting to take a closer look at the fallout from sports violence, did anyone see the story about hot-headed John Tortorella, coach of the Vancouver Canucks? Tortorella faces a fine and possible suspension for losing his temper after a game with the Calgary Flames over a match-up of “enforcers”. I’m no fan of goon hockey, and I hate when stupid injuries are the deciding factor in who wins the game. Once again, I think the lust for blood is still there among the fans, but I wonder how the bloodthirsty fans will feel when they lose a money player like Sidney Crosby or Steve Stamkos, sidelined for good because of some goon was just following orders. As for Tortorella, anger management classes may be in his future. Leafs are not out of it yet.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED