Posted by: Carlos | August 23, 2009

I am Cult

Some of you may recall from previous posts that my “home” golf course is Gleneagles, a difficult 9-hole track located in McLaren Park that is both feared and loathed by many local golfers. However, I never realized until now that people’s impression of the golf course and the park in which it’s located are pretty similar (at least as expressed on Yelp). People seem to love both places for their undeveloped “wildness” or they hate them for their undeveloped “trashiness”. Some of this, I’m sure, has to do with the fact that they’re located in a “less than desirable” neighborhood – bounded as it is on one side by the Sunnydale Housing Projects.

I guess you know which side I come down on. I love the park for dog walking because there are so many unmarked trails and paths you can take, many of them offering wonderful views of the city and bay. Here’s a picture I took this week of our dog Midnite and a typical McLaren Park scene.

Midnite-McLarenPark

I love Gleneagles because it tests both your game and your character. In most places, you’re hitting a shot where the ball is above or below your feet or up or down a hill. The fairways are narrow and tree-lined and the grass is usually much better in the rough than in the fairway. Because of the prevailing weather conditions and wind, it’s almost impossible to keep enough sand in the bunkers – so you’re often playing from a ”veneer” of sand over hard pack. The greens are very small (by modern standards), they’re tilted, sloped, or two-tiered, and they all have minor undulations and very subtle breaks. I could go on, but if you’re a golfer, you get the picture. The funny thing is, every year when I watch the British Open (particularly when it’s played on a Scottish course), I realize that places like Gleneagles are more like what the Scots intended when they invented the game. In the U.S., we’ve  come to expect a golf experience that includes perfect tee boxes, manicured fairways, flat lies, perfect sand, and large, relatively flat greens – conditions that leave very little to chance or whimsey. The older, more traditionally designed courses test one’s character because they aren’t always “fair” and they punish mistakes.

Sorry for digressing, but I wanted to give you some background on my chosen topic. A friend of mine who shall remain nameless refuses to play at Gleneagles anymore. He considers it “too much” (you can decide what that means). Anyway, during a recent round at a “stereotypical” golf course, I was explaining how playing regularly at Gleneagles prepares one for virtually any misfortune that he or she might encounter on the course. He rolled his eyes and told me that in his opinion, Gleneagles regulars like myself were part of a cult. I thought about it for several days and later mentioned it to a few of the regulars at the “Eagle”. Most everyone agreed that my friend was right.

According to the dictionary, a cult is: 1) a particular system of [religious] worship, esp. with reference to its rites and ceremonies; 2) a group or sect bound together by veneration of the same thing, person, ideal, etc. ; and 3) a group having a sacred ideology and a set of rites centering around their sacred symbols. If you look at how I described Gleneagles above, you could say that the definition of a cult does apply. If like my friend, you’ve played there, particularly in a “rabbit”, “skin game”, or other type of unoffical competition (our “rites”) – you would definitely agree with him. In fact, Gleneagles regulars know almost on sight, who is a “player” and who is not.

I hope you haven’t taken any of this seriously because it’s intended as fun. On the other hand, have you ever wondered if you have what it takes to be a member of a cult?

Posted by: Carlos | August 17, 2009

R.I.P. Les Paul

OK, I get it…the “King of Pop” is dead and all that. No disrespect, but for me and most every other fan of electric guitar, an era ended this week with the passing of Les Paul. While Les didn’t invent the electric guitar, the pioneering work he did with his trademark Gibson, introducing overdubbing and all kinds of sonic effects, set the stage for everyone who followed. In my humble opinion, there’s virtually nothing that’s happened in the world of rock guitar that would have been possible without him. The revolution began with the release of ”How High the Moon” by Les and his wife – Mary Ford.

If you’re reading this and don’t know about Les Paul, you may think that he was simply a forerunner of today’s “techno-nerd”, creating electronic sounds in the studio that could never be duplicated anywhere else. While some of that may be true, what can’t be denied is that the man was a virtuoso with the guitar. After rock music exploded into popular culture, Les faded into the background and didn’t reemerge onstage until his 70’s. He became a regular fixture in clubs around New York City and for a time had a weekly gig at a place called the Iconium, continuing to play publicly into his 90’s!

No need for me to go any further because there’s plenty of information on the Internet about Les. At his website, there’s a link to a great biography that PBS did several years ago as part of the “American Masters” series.

Vaya con Dios, Les.

Posted by: Carlos | July 29, 2009

Another Milestone, Another Blessing

I don’t know where you stand on the issue of God, but with regard to my daughter Shana, our family has been repeatedly blessed over the years. If you’re interested, read on.

Two years ago, the school district recommended that we move Shana from inclusion to a special day class (special needs children only). This was a serious emotional blow to us as parents because we had always hoped that she would be able to “keep up” with normally developing children her age (albeit with support). Although we went through a “mourning” period as a result of this transition, we were blessed to secure placement for her at an excellent “alternative” school within the district (K-8th grade). We were ecstatic because it meant that Shana wouldn’t have to change schools for five years. What we didn’t know then was that most of the middle school programs for special needs children in our district focus on the development of  “life-skills”. Because Shana is just now learning how to read, we weren’t ready to throw in the towel and abandon the focus on reading, writing, and basic math skills.

The San Francisco Unified School District (SFUSD) has an open enrollment policy, so we had to re-enter the application process to find an appropriate middle school placement for Shana. Once again, we were blessed to find an academically-focused program in a school that’s only five minutes from our home. As we pondered the upcoming “logistic” challenges of Shana going to middle school (class periods, lockers, P.E., etc.), we also had to think about ways to prepare her for the transition. It may sound redundant to you – but we were blessed again by being able to enroll Shana in a summer program offered by the Beacon Center, located at the same campus she’ll be attending this fall. As she has at every “place” in her young life, Shana quickly gained the love and affection of the program staff and has learned to navigate her way around the building.

This is the final week of the six-week program and it ends with a climactic event (for most “city kids”) – a three-day, two night camping trip. Other than one or two sleepovers, Shana has never spent a night away from home – on her own. On the other hand, our girls are thoroughly familiar with what it means to travel and have repeatedly demonstrated that they’re “flexible” and comfortable sleeping anywhere. With that in mind, we sent Shana off to her first overnight “camp” this past Monday. I’m not an overly sentimental guy, but as I watched her walk across the schoolyard with her duffle and sleeping bag – a giant lump formed in my throat.

Monday evening my wife and I were on edge, waiting for a phone call from the camp counselors asking us to come and get Shana (she’s about an hour or so away). The call never came, nor did we receive one last night. This afternoon, we’ll pick her up at the school campus – having accomplished another milestone and experienced another blessing in what has been an amazing life. God is good…God is love.

Posted by: Carlos | July 21, 2009

Communication and Connection

Perhaps this is an “old guy” rant about how things have changed from the way they used to be. Perhaps it represents the musings of a person who’s somewhat anal and overly focused on the precise definition of things. It might even be the case that there’s something to it and it’s worth your consideration – you decide.

I’ve been thinking lately about how our culture’s understanding of the terms communication and connection have been transformed in the past fifty years – largely as the result of technological advances. The dictionary defines communication as: “the imparting or interchange of thoughts, opinions, or information by speech, writing, or signs.”  Connection is defined as: “joining, linking, or fastening together; uniting or binding”. In the context of personal relationships, communication is intended to join, unite, or bond us with others on an intellectual and/or emotional level.

Before the widespread adoption of telephones in the home (believe it or not, this actually occurred in my lifetime!), this process was driven by face-to-face conversations and personal notes or letters. Implicit in these mediums of communication was the aspect of time. If you wanted to have a personal conversation with someone, you had to wait to encounter them in public where you could talk or arrange for another time to meet. In the alternative, you would take the time to write a note or letter to someone, post it, have the recipient read it, compose his or her reply, and post a response back to you. Under these circumstances, there was usually a strong correlation between communication and meaningful connection. Face-to-face conversations allow us to observe body language and facial expressions and to associate changes in speech patterns/intonation with other visual clues. There is simply no better or more effective way to tie communication to connection. Similarly, people who utilized notes and letters as their preferred means of communication developed writing skills that allowed them to clearly articulate their thoughts and emotions to others.

The introduction of the telephone meant that in order to truly connect with others, one had to develop a new skill: how to listen for changes in speech patterns and intonation that reflected a special emphasis on or a sense of emotion about what was being said. Obviously, the better one knew the person on the other end of the phone, the easier it would be to discern what was actually being “said” and how the other person was “feeling”. I also believe that the telephone significantly reduced the use of writing as a medium of communication that connected us to others. It simply became too time consuming and cumbersome to communicate with others via notes and letters. As a result, the “art” of writing as a form of communication was lost by many – mostly due to lack of use. The telephone also represented a tectonic shift in the relationship between communication and time. Now we could speak to people instantaneously, without having to wait to encounter them personally or for the exchange of long distance correspondence. However, human nature being what it is, it wasn’t long before we became dissatisfied with the new medium. If someone wasn’t available when we called, we demanded a way to communicate right now – without having to wait and call back. Thus were recording devices (answering machines) introduced and popularized.

The advent of the cell phone changed the equation again by allowing us to instantly communicate with others without being tethered to the physical location of a telephone. Now we could have conversations anywhere, anytime, with almost anyone. It didn’t take long for us to begin abusing this capability. Today we see people talking with others on their cell phones (PDA’s, etc.) when they should be paying respectful attention those who are serving them (in a store, restaurant, etc.) or to those who are with them at the time. The clear implication is that me and my call are more important than you (see my previous post on Civility). What a paradox! Now I’m face-to-face with you but we aren’t communicating or connecting because you’re too busy trying to do that with someone else via cell phone.

Naturally, people don’t always choose to answer their cell phones and despite accompanying voice messaging systems, we quickly became dissatisfied once again. Hence, the emergence of texting. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m no Luddite and I really think text messaging is a valuable communication medium. Nevertheless, I believe it’s a very poor means of  connecting with others. Those who have grown up in the latter stages of the information age would probably disagree, but texting is yet another example of how communication does not automatically result in “meaningful” connection.

This all came together in my mind after me, my wife, and another couple moderated a discussion on dating and relationships for younger adults at our church. Someone described a situation where two people had gone out on a date and were now attempting to navigate their way through the delicate dance of courtship (I know, it’s an old school word) exclusively via text messaging. How come he/she took so long to respond? What was he/she trying to say in his/her message? When we suggested that some matters were best addressed face-to-face, despite the potential of adding a physical component to rejection (having to walk away), we could see from some people’s faces that this was an almost revolutionary idea – while others nodded approvingly at our collective wisdom ;-).

I like using all the communication tools available to me in this day and age, but I try to be selective and prudent about how I go about connecting with people. How about you?

Posted by: Carlos | July 4, 2009

R.I.P. Lt. Mike Stone

In a country and culture where so many have grown up under the influence of television, it seems that every generation of college students and young post-college adults has films and television programs that it claims as “it’s own”.  Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Napolean Dynamite, Law & Order, Lost, and The Office are some examples.  In my early-1970s college generation, one of those programs and my personal favorite was “The Streets of San Francisco”.

It never really mattered if your films and shows were good, bad, cheesy, or formulaic, they were yours.  There was something about “The Streets” that drew us in.  Maybe it was the long-hair, wide ties, low-ride slacks, and “hipness” of Michael Douglas contrasted against Karl Malden’s old school, World War II-generation man.  Perhaps it was the many views of the city itself, with its Victorian houses, fog, hills, and bay views.  Whatever it was, it worked for us.

I was reflecting on these things after I read about the passing of Karl Malden this week at the age of 97.  While Michael Douglas (Inspector Keller) was portrayed as TV’s idea of cool – which by our standards, automatically meant that he wasn’t, Karl Malden (Lt. Mike Stone) was the real deal.  He was a no nonsense, in your face type of guy whom we were probably drawn to because he embodied characteristics we had seen in our own fathers.  They were men tempered by the experiences of the Great Depression and the second world war who often looked upon us, their sons, as privileged and to some extent – pampered.  Despite their differences, the mentoring relationship between Stone and Keller – with all its banter and misunderstanding, was something I think many of us longed for.

If you had to, you watched the show alone (better than missing an episode); but the preferred routine was to watch it with friends, complete with running commentary and plenty of unique “Streets” humor – especially about Karl Malden’s nose.  We used to discuss the camera angles and lighting used to keep other actors from falling under the shadow of his nose, etc.  The show was also great because you knew exactly how it would proceed: four acts of approximately 12 minutes each, commercial breaks of about 2 minutes between each act, and the closing Epilog (why no “E”?).

A local station (KOFY – TV 20) is currently running the entire series – all 119 episodes – at 11 am each weekday.  Sometimes I’ll indulge myself in a bit of nostalgia and record an episode on my DVR to watch at lunchtime (I work at home).  Some old shows are so outdated that they just don’t “work” in modern times.  Other shows, like “The Streets”, live on – providing you take them in measured doses.

Rest in peace, Karl Malden.

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