Music imitating life

You read that latest interview with John Mayer in Rolling Stone?

Some call it the most honest, open interview done by a celebrity. Others say they read it and think he is a pice of work. Still, others don't believe him.

In it, he talks a lot about how lonely he is. How he is absolutely devastated about losing Jennifer Aniston. And he talks alot about masterbation.

As a John Mayer fan, I am perplexed. At first, I sort of sympathized with the guy. I have felt lonely. I have loved and lost. In my marriage, there are ups and downs. Is he just being honest or being a jerk?

Then, I thought a lot about his art. His songwriting is great. It's personal, fun, pop and yet the words are some of the best in the pop music world. But now, as I listen to cuts off his "Battle Studies," I can't help attaching the "real" John Mayer to the songs. And I don't know how that makes me feel, exactly.

Should a fan know that much about the singer/songwriter he loves? Should the fan know all the "feelings" behind the songs. I don't know. When I listen to some of his new songs, I am thinking of Jennifer Aniston and breakups and John Mayer screaming out for a committed relationship. And that's not always a good feeling when I'm driving along on the 10 Freeway trying to get lost in a lyric or a riff.

Sooo, John Mayer, you either ruined it for your fans or your deepened the relationship they will have with your songs. I can't decide.

I only think there should be some mystery in art, some unknowns. Save the story-behind-the-song for those tabloid TV shows.

"Better get used to it''

I am about to be an empty nester.
My youngest son, who is 17 and a half, will go to UC Irvine this Sunday. He will be a freshman. And he will be on his own for the first time. Our oldest son is at UC Berkeley in his second year there.

Empty nester.
It sounds so cliche.
But I am afraid it is real.

"You better get used to it," said my wife the other day when we sat down for dinner, just the two of us. "I mean, get ready for it ..."

She was pointed, firm. Yet encouraging in her way. She knows I am not a "getting used to it" kind of person. Let me explain. I usually come up the cliff going like 90 mph then slam on the breaks and go: "Oh, is that a dropoff?" I knew that was coming but I did not prepare emotionally.

So, there I go. About ready to go off an emotional parent cliff. And I haven't hit the brakes yet.

OK, I am trying. I went out to dinner with my youngest son and had a talk about being on his own. About being smart, making good choices, the whole dad-son bonding thing. Well, not bonding, more like unbonding. More like leaving.

He was responsive. And he is a very mature 17 and a half year-old so that makes me feel a little better about him going off to college.

But I will miss him. And I will, I know, have to get used to it.

Crowds at Art Night Pasadena

A view from the mezzanine of a crowded Armory Center for the Arts in Pasadena Friday night during the free Art Night. The event continues today at Boston Court.





YOU can't say that Friday night's Art Night was not a success, at least if you judge by the number of people attending.

It was crowds, crowds and more crowds Friday night at the places me and some friends attended: Armory Center, the Pacific Asia Museum and the Pasadena Museum of California Art.

Buses chartered to shuttle people to the different venues were almost always packed. We waited on Union Street near Raymond for bus after bus but they were always full. So, we decided to skip going to the Norton Simon Museum. Instead, we hoofed it.

The Pasadena Museum of California Art was a real crowd pleaser. The exhibit in the Back Gallery displaying the photos from JPL's Mars Reconnaissance Observer in 3D were a kick. (The crowd did a egalitarian job of sharing the 3D glasses, because there wasn't enough to go around).

Also, the Pacific Asia's anime and Samurai art exhibit was drawing big crowds. My wife and I grabbed a concrete bench in the courtyard and as I watched the crowds come in and out of the museum, I couldn't help but think there were a lot of people taking advantage of something to do at night that was free. A popular event in itself in today's dastardly economy.

It was grand, also, sneaking a peak at the Pasadena Symphony rehearsing for tonight's performance of Vivaldi. The newly expanded Civic Center looked fantastic at night. Who needs a public art display of hats?

I would've liked to have seen more food vendors where you can grab a quick bite. I finally convinced my group to let me stop at Manny's and buy a slice of pizza, which I carried around with me while walking on Colorado Boulevard. Not quite like Manhattan, but close.

Now, if only more museums would open doors for free. Cool idea, but we also should not forget to donate, even in these tough times.

Romancing the train

Aren't trains romantic?
What? You don't agree?
I did something today, well two things, that not many people in my neck of the woods do. I left my small, suburban city in the San Gabriel Valley and I did it by train.
My wife and I rode the Gold Line light rail from east Pasadena to Union Station in downtown Los Angeles. Then we took the Red Line subway to Highland and Hollywood Blvd. where we got off and attended a live radio show on the Academy Awards.

The show was interesting. I love film. I love critics. I love being critical. What? Don't tell me you actually "liked" "The Curious Case of Benajamin Button." That was such a dud. It could've been a real good movie had it been better directed, had the sceenplay been interesting and had the actors not slept through it (all except one or two). What was that film about? Take every moment of life as it comes? What a cliche. I think we all have heard that one before. It was as one critic said "such a misfire."

But I digress.

The train ride was in some ways more romantic, more a people-watching fest, than the movies or the critics' roundtable.

On trains, on public transportation, people engage in displays of affection. That in itself can be, um, annoying. But is up to the viewer. Or shall I say the voyeur.

The guy wore a backwoods baseball cap, black, a red sweatshirt but not a ratty one. It was new. He had a strawberry blond mustache/goatee going. He had his arm around his girlfriend and would kiss her when she said "something cute." She was Hispanic, with high cheek bones and jet black long hair pushed through a tan baseball cap worn bill in front.

I am fascinated by people who don't care people are watching them. It is not like this couple started making out. They were affectionate, playful. He was very demonstrative. She would pare his comments with a "No not particularly" in that sexy, deep voice that some women have.

The train came upon the Mission Station, one of my favorites. A bride leaned against a lightpost and her groom smoothed her dress as the photographer positioned his camera for the best shot.

"What a beautiful dress," said the woman in front of me with the baseball cap.
We joked about a bride being on a train platform. Then the boyfriend continued playing with her hair, pecking her cheek and stroking her back. It was as if she had to pay attention to him.

I was thinking good thoughts about men and women, being the romantic I am (see the first sentence).

Then, about a stop before the East Pasadena station, the two get up. At the Allen Station, he straddles the door but she reminds him they are getting off at the next station. The automatic train doors close with a swish. He gives it hard kick with his foot. I startle.

She calms him down. But now they are standing at the door as the train lurches forward to the next station.

I glance at her and she no longer looks pleased. Is that fear on her pretty face? The high cheek bones recede an inch. I am getting uncomfortable.

At the station, in the elevator, his arm around her, he gets a call. He's got an obnoxious ring tone. We all exit and he tries to go down the stairs with her. Doesn't he know that is the wrong way?

Finally, the couple reach the foot bridge and head toward the parking garage. But by then, I've walked ahead of them and stop thinking romantic thoughts. I hear the din of the cars on the freeway below and smell the exhaust in the parking structure.

My thoughts are on the mundane now: getting home, what work I need to do, will it rain. I don't even look back to see the train leave the station.

Writing in "Green Ink"

It has been several years since I was reporting on the environment. But reading from Michael Frome's book, "Green Ink" has inspired me. It is like eating a food and having it trigger a memory, a deep-seeded passion.

In Chapter 12, Frome gives some advice for writing a journal. I'll call that a blog. First, he states some truisms: "Being a professional writer is at least as difficult as becomming a surgeon. Writing, especially writing about the environment, demands hard work, persistence, patience and a thick skin -- it does not happen overnight."
I have to agree. My approach to writing, reporting, has been to get stuff that no one else had. I always tried to get that extra interview, ask one more question. Whenever someone was not in or not calling me back, I thought, "What is another way to get this information?" Or: "Can I reach this person some other way." It became a competition. I didn't want to let that source beat me. I'm still like that, even at home. Drives my wife nuts (and she is a journalist!).

This goes with what Frome says later: "Never sell yourself short." If you think you have an idea, go with that idea. Find out stuff no one else has. Write it in a way that draws in the reader, captures and keeps his attention. Stephen King says he writes for his "ideal reader" or IR. Would what you are writing pass the test of your IR?

Second, Frome says cover topics (in this class) that you want to report and write about. You should be driven by curiosity and by what I call "righteous indignation." Is there something that bothers you? That is wrong but should be right, or at least exposed to the scrutiny of the world? That is a driving force in environmental writing. I remember doing a story on a family in a house next door to a chemical plant. At the house, wafts of odors, like burning plastic, would engulf the backyard where the mother and her children sat. I remember her face as she asked me whether that would hurt her or her child? That motivated me to report the truth.

He says set realistic objectives. I hope by following the assignments in this class, (Comm. 438T) I have done that for you. But also, push yourself to find out things and write about them in your blog postings. Also, to that end, Frome says "read everything ... read all the time. Read fiction, nonfiction, in different fields ... read the back of cereal boxes if you have nothing else. The good stuff will seep into your head and sooner or later leak out on paper. (I would suggest as a novel, Abbey's "The Monkey Wrench Gang.")

As an environmental writer, I like his advice: "Be affirmative, focus on solutions, not simply problems, with abiding belief in people to make the solutions come true."

Finally, he says: "Get outdoors. Balance the introspection of writing by going outdoors. Cam, canoe, kayak, hike, walk or sit in a park -- whatever works."
I will hope you will do that for your in-depth project, or just for fun. Take your kids, your sisters, your brother for a hike. Or to the beach. Or to Bolsa Chica to walk the paths and just stare at the great blue heron as she stands seemingly motionless. Then, without warning, jumps into flight in a slow motion scene that is way better than any movie or video could deliver.