If you hired Trump to take us back to a day when there were plenty of factory jobs that paid union wages and Rowe hadn’t opposed Wade, you’re probably in for a shock. There is no time machine that can hold 350 million of us and no wall that can keep the world out.
At 2:51am Wednesday morning, Donald Trump announced, when it appeared he’d been elected president, that it was time for our country to “unify.”
After nearly 18 months of dividing us with insults, accusations, criticism, denial and threats, the president elect called for all Americans to come together. Imagine what that sounded like to so many POW’s, Muslims, women, Mexican immigrants, Clinton supporters, authentic public servants, the LBGT communities, African Americans and a hoard of millennials. “It’s time for you to unite with the minority group that voted me into office.”
Aside from Cubs fans, our diverse country hasn’t been united since 9-11.
From that first Republican candidate debate, Trump showed himself as a master divider, verbally drawing and quartering his opponents like a veteran heckler at a stand-up comedy club. Looking back, division was the secret sauce to his campaign. So now, upon what premise are we supposed to unite? The wall, the disposal of healthcare, the art of tax dodging, the promised lowering of emissions standards, locker room talk or that our sitting president isn’t an American born citizen?
Trump, calling the victory “beautiful,” reached for the light switch of unity and healing across America like a butcher grabbing for a damp towel to clean his chopping block.
Since he’s yet to impose law on us, I don’t feel hatred for the president elect. I’m disappointed, repulsed and surprised days later, but he’s always played this way: a bickering, undermining, insulting, self promoting, off script character who models the delusion of grandeur.
Moreover, I’m shocked by the women and minorities who voted for him and I’m infuriated by the 46.9% of eligible Americans who didn’t show up. Unity might have started at the polls. I could handle this outcome better if I knew the vast majority of the country agreed on Trump. In the end, it wasn’t a majority, but rather, the technicality of the electoral, for the second time in five presidential elections.
The process of unifying people is not a deal, despite how fast Paul Ryan walked back on Wednesday, but an art. It takes self-less leadership, considerable effort and consistency. A “unifier” earns the title over a period measured by how one meets challenge. President Obama unified us in the throes of recession and calamity. Check the approval numbers this week.
If you hated her more than you did him, after all we heard from both, may your bitterness be dissipated by Trump’s victory and leavened with the prospect of HUGE obstacles ahead for all. Voters seemed to get a generation of frustration off their backs while disrupting the political system and making sure things are going to be different.
Only, the swamp restocking appears to include a couple of guys that failed in previous bids for the oval office and a journeyman as despised as the Clintons. Rudy Giuliani is radiant and defiant. Chris Christie looks even bigger out from the shadow of the bridge, even though he might still be indicted. Newt Gingrich is impossibly reborn and the Republican Party, on life support all year, claims to having earned a “mandate.” Is this fresh blood you envisioned?
If you hired Trump to take us back to a day when there were plenty of factory jobs that paid union wages and Rowe hadn’t opposed Wade, you’re probably in for a shock. There is no time machine that can hold 350 million of us and no wall that can keep the world out.
There IS one thing that could unite us. Truth. Identifying the truth, repeating it regularly, honoring it when creating solutions. That would heal us.
Create a secretary of truth.
I can unify with verity, the lasso of Wonder Woman around the biggest problems and our “leaders.”
That would be huge.
#I’mwithtruth.
Playlist: Fire
/in Playlists /by adminLip Service
/in Features /by adminThe first I heard of it was the morning after, from an 8-year-old girl who’s preparing to perform in Annie at her school. Describing Mariah Carey’s midnight performance in Times Square, Fiona threw her arms up in confusion, saying, “She didn’t even try.”
Within seconds, I watched, in amazement, on YouTube. Having executive produced Carey on two VH1 Divas Live shows, my stomach tightened out of professional courtesy. Almost from the beginning, she had indeed given up.
Lip syncing on TV is de rigueur. Elvis, the Beatles, and at least every act that ever played on American Bandstand (and many other programs) did it long before Ashley Simpson got caught and laughed at on SNL in the aughts.
In concert, “vocal-live-to-track” performances are standard, employing a crew of volume jockeys who mix the mic of J. Lo, Madonna, Janet, Britney and so many others with the pre-recorded tracks so they can make live sounds when they catch their breath. Most acts now incorporate some pre-recorded programming or at least triggered samples to sweeten their live wall of sound.
Since MTV began raising the bar of live television concert presentation many years ago, we’ve been steadily conditioned to expect orchestra pits filled with hyper-excited fans, hosts reading hyperbolic copy from the prompter, legions of choreographed dancers, elaborate lighting, hair extensions, enhanced crowd audio, wardrobe failures, and smoke and mirrors. It’s no wonder singers can feel, when performing on live TV, like their future hangs on how good they look AND how perfectly they sound that night.
I feel for Mariah and her contemporaries for the ageism they face. Brings to mind four of the biggest rock stars still touring, men that have all had multiple hair transplants and work out like professional athletes to maintain their figures. The glow of a teleprompter (for lyric memory) may be upon their faces, but you probably won’t catch them lip synching. It’s got to be tougher for women, even for royalty. Aretha Franklin, doing the anthem on Thanksgiving in Detroit, took criticism for her elongated (fully live) performance, despite how soulfully she sang and played piano.
Conditioned by digital media use, our culture wants it “bright and snappy.”
I’ll bet Beyonce doesn’t lip sync much. Same for Abel of the Weeknd. Having inherited and trained their instruments, elite singers often opt to go all out with live vocals. My music fan friends and I are always looking for those outstanding, authentic TV performances, where danger thins the air and only the cream dare float.
The artificiality of so many TV events has trickled down. My son’s grade school talent show is so heavily populated with kids who simply lip sync their favorite song that the microphone is turned on for maybe half the event. At an open mic in lower Manhattan two weeks ago, several upstart Hip Hop acts rapped over full recordings of their songs as singer/songwriters waited, tuning their acoustic guitars. While someone shot Snapchat moments with their phone, the rapper’s friends applauded enthusiastically.
Mariah used to have a remarkable, if not durable, voice. Her A&R guy, Randy Jackson (American Idol), insisted she could finesse the paint off the studio walls with her range. She didn’t tour prolifically because she had to “rest” it so often.
But for whatever reason, she wasn’t up to the task of singing OR lip syncing on New Year’s Eve. Had she dropped the mic and fled, the tone of the narrative might be more forgiving. But Mariah quit and stayed. And now, the awkward moments are sadly unforgettable.
Perfect set up for her next TV show.
Mandating Unity
/in Uncategorized /by adminIf you hired Trump to take us back to a day when there were plenty of factory jobs that paid union wages and Rowe hadn’t opposed Wade, you’re probably in for a shock. There is no time machine that can hold 350 million of us and no wall that can keep the world out.
At 2:51am Wednesday morning, Donald Trump announced, when it appeared he’d been elected president, that it was time for our country to “unify.”
After nearly 18 months of dividing us with insults, accusations, criticism, denial and threats, the president elect called for all Americans to come together. Imagine what that sounded like to so many POW’s, Muslims, women, Mexican immigrants, Clinton supporters, authentic public servants, the LBGT communities, African Americans and a hoard of millennials. “It’s time for you to unite with the minority group that voted me into office.”
Aside from Cubs fans, our diverse country hasn’t been united since 9-11.
From that first Republican candidate debate, Trump showed himself as a master divider, verbally drawing and quartering his opponents like a veteran heckler at a stand-up comedy club. Looking back, division was the secret sauce to his campaign. So now, upon what premise are we supposed to unite? The wall, the disposal of healthcare, the art of tax dodging, the promised lowering of emissions standards, locker room talk or that our sitting president isn’t an American born citizen?
Trump, calling the victory “beautiful,” reached for the light switch of unity and healing across America like a butcher grabbing for a damp towel to clean his chopping block.
Since he’s yet to impose law on us, I don’t feel hatred for the president elect. I’m disappointed, repulsed and surprised days later, but he’s always played this way: a bickering, undermining, insulting, self promoting, off script character who models the delusion of grandeur.
Moreover, I’m shocked by the women and minorities who voted for him and I’m infuriated by the 46.9% of eligible Americans who didn’t show up. Unity might have started at the polls. I could handle this outcome better if I knew the vast majority of the country agreed on Trump. In the end, it wasn’t a majority, but rather, the technicality of the electoral, for the second time in five presidential elections.
The process of unifying people is not a deal, despite how fast Paul Ryan walked back on Wednesday, but an art. It takes self-less leadership, considerable effort and consistency. A “unifier” earns the title over a period measured by how one meets challenge. President Obama unified us in the throes of recession and calamity. Check the approval numbers this week.
If you hated her more than you did him, after all we heard from both, may your bitterness be dissipated by Trump’s victory and leavened with the prospect of HUGE obstacles ahead for all. Voters seemed to get a generation of frustration off their backs while disrupting the political system and making sure things are going to be different.
Only, the swamp restocking appears to include a couple of guys that failed in previous bids for the oval office and a journeyman as despised as the Clintons. Rudy Giuliani is radiant and defiant. Chris Christie looks even bigger out from the shadow of the bridge, even though he might still be indicted. Newt Gingrich is impossibly reborn and the Republican Party, on life support all year, claims to having earned a “mandate.” Is this fresh blood you envisioned?
If you hired Trump to take us back to a day when there were plenty of factory jobs that paid union wages and Rowe hadn’t opposed Wade, you’re probably in for a shock. There is no time machine that can hold 350 million of us and no wall that can keep the world out.
There IS one thing that could unite us. Truth. Identifying the truth, repeating it regularly, honoring it when creating solutions. That would heal us.
Create a secretary of truth.
I can unify with verity, the lasso of Wonder Woman around the biggest problems and our “leaders.”
That would be huge.
#I’mwithtruth.