AIDS, Crack and Michael Jackson

“It takes a long time to put on my face, but I like how different it feels. I can be in a whole ‘nother place with it. Sometime I wear it home, and people – kids – I look out the back window of a car and let them see me. Whoa, they get frightened! They don’t know who or what it is! It’s a trip, it’s really a trip. It’s a secret; that’s it. I like that it’s a secret.” Michael Jackson discussing “The Wiz” to Timothy White in 1977.

God, that picture looks freaky. Michael Jackson’s mugshot, taken in November of 2003, taken due to felony child molestation charges (of which he was universally acquitted), shows the singer without any of the lighting, airbrushing, or accoutrements he had become accustomed to when he was photographed. The photograph shows a man who looks less like an icon and more like an extra in the “Thriller” video, if it was shot by George Romero or Danny Boyle. For one of the few times in his adult life, Jackson was in a situation he had little or no control over. His eyes are bug-eyed, lips unsure of their proper placement, it seems he had little knowledge or concept of why he was being arraigned and even less on how he should conduct himself. It may have only started to dawn upon the superstar that he was indeed guilty of one particular incident: being Michael Jackson.

The late Timothy White was able to land one of the last interviews with Michael Jackson before his ascent to mega-stardom with his 1979 album “Off the Wall.” White was given massive access to Jackson, including a luncheon in which Jackson displayed such bizarre behavior as eating his Caesar Salad with his fingers, oblivious to the “oily dressing accumulating on the tablecloth.” Jackson would also admit to not knowing Gerald Ford had been president. It became apparent to White that Jackson had little touch with the real world, except when it came to music and dance, of which he was a prodigy in the vein of Mozart. When asked if he was scared of being in a movie, Jackson responded “No, not at all. Honest to God, I’m not. I’m challenged. I love it. I’m not scared at all.”

Despite his childlike demeanor, Jackson had already developed the self-confidence that would propel him through three classic records, music videos, and tours, during which he developed some of the most amazing dance moves of his (or any) era. He also expressed interest in working with Quincy Jones, the man who would eventually produce “Off the Wall,” “Thriller,” and “Bad.” However, when distracted with other topics, Jackson revealed a bizarre affinity for rats, his inability to understand “Star Wars” and an obsessive interest in his Scarecrow character from “The Wiz.” Jackson told White: “Sometimes, when I come home with my makeup, I keep dancing in front of the mirrors here as the Scarecrow…When I get into it, I forget everything else but the Scarecrow’s world. It’s a feeling of peace. It’s just like…magic.”

Soon after this interview, White believed Michael Jackson’s management severely curtailed media access to the star, as his eccentricities could easily overshadow his music, as the 2003 documentary, “Living with Michael Jackson” would ultimately confirm. When focused on music and dance, Jackson had no peer. His videos for the 1979 “Off the Wall,” made before the advent of MTV, show the singer in a plain black and white tuxedo and beginning the formation of the dance moves which would excite millions. However, he had started the process of reinventing himself physically, a habit that became so addicting it would become an object of continual ridicule. Jackson’s death at age fifty represents the apotheosis of media hypocrisy. The same media which would continually cover everything “Wacko Jacko” now worships him. It seems this musical Julius Caesar will not be buried, but praised in his wake.

The success of both “Off the Wall” and “Thriller” netted Michael Jackson more money than anyone with a child-like mind could really comprehend. He also began an infatuation with being a hero of some sort. His personas in the “Beat It” and “Bad” videos showed him a cross between badass and peacemaker, a kind of dancing Superman. He further expanded his concept in the “Captain EO” film and the “Moonwalker” video game, the former being ironically executive produced by George Lucas. Although he would adapt many other guises, it seems Jackson was more comfortable in the idol-hero guise than any other. He took this to an extreme measure at the end of his 1991 “Black or White” video, when he violently destroys the majority of the street set. It is possible he was reacting to many of the anti-heroes of the time, trying to be as badass as many of the hair bands that were in constant MTV rotation during the era (insert ironic comment here).

Jackson spent much of the 1980’s working with charities, a fact that is still relatively unnoticed by the now-adoring media. Initially, his projects such as “We Are the World,” written for the USA for Africa album, we taken as universally generous gestures. As the 1980’s waned, his purchase and construction of the Neverland Ranch gained more scrutiny, as the majority of young children he asked to visit and stay there consisted of mostly young boys. Jackson seemed completely oblivious to this criticism except in song. Songs such as “Leave Me Alone,” “Stop Pressuring Me” and “Scream” addressed his antipathy towards the press. Yet Jackson refused to modify or control the behaviors which netted him such massive scrutiny. There is little doubt of Jackson’s affinity toward childhood and the wide-eyed hope and wonder which comes with it. It is hard to compare this attitude with that of the savvy musician and businessman who outbid his onetime friend Paul McCartney for the Beatles catalog. Was he really clueless or was he addicted to being two Michael Jacksons?

There is the performing Michael, the self-anointed “King of Pop” who causes sold out crowds of adults to scream wildly during his concerts. There is “Peter Pan” Michael, the real-life Willy Wonka who gave thousands of children a golden ticket to his private castle. The superhero who longed to protect and help guide child stars like Emmanuel Lewis and Macaulay Culkin possessed little knowledge on how to protect himself was becoming an addict to an ever-evolving identity he could never settle on. Part of growing up is discovering who you are; the person you present yourself to be in the public eye. Children tend to decide upon this in adolescence. They spin “The Breakfast Club” wheel and become some version of the athlete, the princess, the brain, the basket case or the criminal. For some tragic reason, Michael Jackson could never make this decision for himself. In the end, he would become all of them.

Jackson’s lack of real-world comprehension outside of music and dance would ultimately become terminal. His 1993 civil settlement for alleged child molestation caused the star to enter into a marriage with Lisa Marie Presley; a union now considered an ill-conceived business arrangement. Presley’s presence at Neverland gave the impression of normalcy, as did his “You Are Not Alone” video which showed both of them scantily clad and supposedly in love. Business marriages of this type were common in old Hollywood, designed to stop any investigation of what were then considered “alternative lifestyles.” The marriage was supposed to be mutually beneficial. Jackson could still be the Peter Pan of Neverland while Presley could milk his massive genius for the music success which eluded her. Unfortunately, the decade was the 1990’s and not the 1930’s or 50’s. The marriage ended in a few years, leaving Jackson another void in his life.

Jackson entered into another ill-fated marriage with Debbie Rowe, who would bear the first two of his three children. The second union dissolved as quickly as the first, putting him back into the media spotlight with mounting “Wacko Jacko” coverage. Jackson attempted to escape the publicity in the only was the businessman knew how: a series of concerts at Madison Square Garden in 2001 celebrating his thirty years as a solo artist. The concerts, as always, were phenomenal. His performance of his classic hit “Billie Jean” showed he hadn’t lost a step, despite entering his early forties. During this time, Jackson would experience the first commercial disappointment of his career. The album “Invincible” sold poorly. The videos showed an artist searching for identity which was compounded that he had little grasp on reality itself. He never stopped inviting children to Neverland or on tour, despite incessant coverage of his actions. Like a child, he never thought of the potential ramifications or if he did, was comfortable in his own mind that he was doing nothing wrong.

It is likely Michael Jackson did know the police watched him everyday. He also knew he was doing nothing legally wrong. He placed the same trust in children as they did of him; an innocent longing to be in a place he was denied by his overbearing, abusive father. It would be hard for a person such as Jackson to deny and distrust the affection of kids. It is likely in 1993 he committed minimally the crime of indecent exposure. After he became a media magnet for weirdness, it is harder to believe the 2003 accuser had more than financial gripes against him. It was easy to believe he did it: he was Michael Jackson – King of Weird. Yet his behavior at the trial, baby dangling and calling his third child “Blanket” on TV did little to help the man. In the end, addiction overcame any sense of reality he had left.

As Michael Jackson entered into a self-imposed exile for much of the last decade, it seems he finally found the childhood affection that he had been denied. He did little performing but the headlines by his posthumous media friends never subsisted. Having his own children may have given the “King of Pop” a sense of peace and fulfillment, but the call of the limelight still beckoned. Whether it was to appease debtors or his millions of fans, Jackson decided to embark on one more great tour. What exactly caused his death weeks before his London engagement began may never be solved. What is known is that a complex, troubled man with a schizophrenic identity had little to lose and much to gain. He was a person who longed to be a hero, a “smooth criminal,” a genius, the best dancer in the universe and ultimately became a basket case due to the media coverage he helped create. Michael Jackson didn’t start the fire, but he did little (if anything) to fight it.

Copyright 2009 Adam Koeppe

Timothy White's Michael Jackson interview published in "Rock Lives"

"We Have Been Called Rock, Punk, Garage and Surf. I Guess We Do a Little of Each." Dal Winslow of the Trashmen Interviewed!

Rock and Roll music has amassed a rich mythology in its 55-plus year history. Even dating back to famed bluesman Robert Johnson’s supposed “deal with the devil” in the 1920’s, there has been a concerted attempt by record labels and managers to package the artist in a certain way. The Rolling Stones could barely play in 1962 when they issued their first single, a cover of Chuck Berry’s “Come On.” The Stones were fortunate in two respects: they were signed to a major label, London Records and had a savvy manager, Andrew Oldham, who packaged the group as ‘bad boys.” Not every artist receives the type of break the Rolling Stones received. For every Andrew Oldham, Brian Epstein or Malcolm McLaren, there are thousands of labels and managers interested only in the quick dollar return, putting the interests of the artist aside and choosing to market songs as commodities, not works of art.

For the majority of the Trashmen’s 47-year history, they have been saddled with the “goofy great” or “one-hit wonder” stereotype, a stereotype promoted extensively by SOMA Records owner, Amos Heilicher. Although “Surfin’ Bird hit number three on the Billboard charts in 1963, little was done by Heilicher or the band’s manager, George Garrett, to promote the band beyond the success on the initial single. Unlike other rock and roll artists, the Trashmen have been granted a second lease of music life, which began with the band gaining control of their recordings in 1991, reaching new heights in 2008 after “Surfin’ Bird” was featured on the comedy series “Family Guy.” This exposure resulted in “Surfin’ Bird” reaching #8 on iTunes and cracking the top fifty in Britain. Trashmen bassist Dal Winslow recently granted me an interview, in which he discusses the triumphs, disappointments and beurocracies of a band that may yet to have reached its peak after close to five decades in the music industry.

What was the band’s reaction to the use of “Surfin’ Bird” in the “Family Guy” episode “I Dream of Jesus?” How did this collaboration come about?
“This was actually the result of an article from MOJO magazine out of the UK in early 2007. It listed us as one of the top 50 Punk/Garage bands of all time. Shortly after Weird Al (Yankovic) came out in Rolling Stone with ‘Surfin Bird’ is one of the top all time rock hits. Fox picked this up and decided to do an episode on the song. We really did not hear anything until much later, actually a week before it was aired. We never thought the whole show would be dedicated to the song and never imagined the response on the downloads.”

There is a lot of great footage on You Tube of the Trashmen's 2008 tour. How is the band received there? What kind of venues are you playing? How is it different from the United States in terms of fans and overall reaction?
“The response has been overwhelming. The venues are everything from festivals to small 400+ clubs. Every gig has been packed or sold out. Compared to the U.S., if we did the same gig as Medina (Minnesota) in Europe, it would have been packed to the rafters and the crowd would range in the 21-35 year age group. I think the song is hitting a new group of people that were not aware of it. The other thing is that in Europe we are regarded as ‘legends’ and it brings in the new crowd.”

The Trashmen avoided the stereotype of “one-hit wonder” in Europe, making the band one of the few artists from the sixties that have managed to eclipse the image promoted by their original label, SOMA Records. Listening to any Trashmen record shows the band equal to any rock and roll band of the era in terms of talent and ability. Signing to Amos Heilicher’s label proved to be a mistake which cost the group not only money, but also the chance to develop artistically like the Rolling Stones or Beach Boys. Winslow explains:

“At the time Steve (Wahrer) and I were disappointed since we had visions of going to a professional studio in L.A. and working with more experienced engineers. At Kay Bank (studio), we had good engineers but it was more learn as you go. I think a good example of what could have been was Bobby Vee. He signed with Liberty who promoted him to the fullest.” Winslow believes the SOMA signing was the band’s biggest disappointment: “Giving the song (Surfin’ Bird) to SOMA instead of Columbia or RCA, which were courting us at the time. SOMA added nothing as far as assistance with recording, new ideas, etc. They seemed to be in it strictly for the short haul cash.”

Amos Heilicher, the “Godfather of the Twin Cities record business,” possessed a habit of promoting himself ahead of the artists on his SOMA record label. Despite “Surfin’ Bird” being the highest charting hit his label would ever garner, Heilicher would continue to describe the song, in an interview with Jon Bream, as “the worst record in the world…I laugh every time I hear it…it’s that bad.” The moxie was typical of Heilicher, who “was always there to take kudos from the press,” according to Winslow. Distribution of “Surfin’ Bird” was the sole saving grace from the Trashmen’s relationship with SOMA, Winslow believes: “They did that well, in 17 different countries and multiple labels. Soma and Garrett paid for recording time. Other than that they were useless. We got more promotion from our booking agent, Jimmy Thomas, out of Luverne MN.”

It’s fairly inconceivable for a band as talentless as Heilicher believed the Trashmen to be to not only have a top five hit, but also have that same song be enjoyed by multiple generations over four decades. Winslow states: “We were pretty popular in the cities and surrounding areas before the record.” If the Trashmen had not signed to SOMA, their path might have been similar to their Minnesota contemporary, Bobby Vee, who as previously mentioned, signed to a major label, Liberty Records. Vee’s first big hit, “The Night Has a Thousand Eyes,” hit number three in 1962, but he went five years before his next top ten, “Come Back When You Grow Up,” also charted number three in 1967. Liberty Records stuck with Vee through this gap, as they did with instrumental group the Ventures. Although SOMA Records, cast away the Trashmen in the sixties, the band possessed a song that is now on the iPod of many young people who love rock and roll.

Amos Heilicher also proved to be a cheapskate when the Trashmen were asked to appear on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand. The result would not only a triumph of adversity, but a testament to the Trashmen’s drummer, the late Steve Wahrer, the original singer of “Surfin’ Bird.” Winslow “took Steve to the airport and picked him up when he returned the same day. Dick and Soma would not pay for the whole group to go. Steve had a great time and it is still being shown on You Tube. He was used to hiding behind the drums and not doing front work. He was very nervous when they told him he would be alone on camera.” Steve Wahrer performed a maniacal version of “Surfin’ Bird,” doing ‘the bird” for the entire duration of the song. Exhausted afterward, Wahrer gave a charming interview to Clark. His innocence and enthusiasm can resonate with anyone from a small town wanting to make it big in the city. Although Wahrer passed away in 1989, his vocal on “Surfin’ Bird” is as instantly recognizable as any in the history of rock and roll.

Although songwriting credits to “Surfin’ Bird” were ultimately given to R&B/Doo-Wop group, the Rivingtons, the origin of the Trashmen version had little to do with the songs originally titled “Papa Oom Mow Mow” and “The Bird’s the Word.”

Dal Winslow: “We had not heard of the Rivingtons when we first heard this song. A band from Wisconsin performed “Bird is the Word” as we thought it would be a great idea to change it up and add it to our list. We started playing it at dances and it became the most requested song. George Garrett agreed to pay for all recording and be our “personal manager. He cut the deal with Soma for distribution. The studio (Kay Bank) was not familiar with rock, only radio spots or small jazz groups. “Surfin’ Bird” was recorded in two segments, specifically to let Steve catch his breath. All others were done live. We did overlay the background vocals…there was only a 16 track recorder at the time.”

The success of “Surfin Bird” was used to full advantage by Amos Heilicher and George Garrett. “Since our song and album were so successful,” Winslow states, “they had musicians beating a path to their door to make them a hit. I’m sure they made a ton of cash off these groups. It only took a few months to see the only thing George was managing was the money coming in, He really never did any promotions.” One of these groups, Gregory Dee and the Avanties, performed a spirited song called “Olds Mo William,” which used a Steve Waher-esque “Do the bird!” to bridge into the chorus. The single was a fast-paced, frenetic shout out number. “It was kinda flattering,” Winslow said. “At least it was original. Most of the groups that came to record were doing covers, and not as good as the originals.” An underrated song if there ever was one, “Olds Mo William” was Soma’s best attempt at recreating the magic of “Surfin’ Bird.” Soma Records did manage to produce one more great single, “Liar Liar” by the Castaways, which hit #12 in 1965.

The British Invasion and psychedelic music began to dominate the 60’s music scene around 1965, leaving bands like the Trashmen with a changing audience which preferred to listen and inhale music rather than dance to it. Instrumental bands like the Ventures managed to maintain their popularity for most of the decade, largely due to the support and promotion of their record company, Liberty Records. Without this backing, the Trashmen saw their audience dwindle, deciding to disband in 1967. Winslow saw “a different response to our music. The crowds were not dancing and wanted war songs and message tunes. The blues and James Brown also started to become more popular. As we started to play clubs we decided that it was time to bail. None of us wanted to become lounge lizards.”

The Trashmen left the music scene and began their careers as normal, ordinary Americans. “We all worked for corporate America, including investment firms, manufacturing and banking.” Drummer Steve Wahrer continued to perform, using the Trashmen’s “name for a short time and then transitioned into other groups,” stated Winslow. Time passed, yet for some reason, “Surfin’ Bird” continued to be played on the radio and eventually covered by the Ram ones and the Cramps. The song was also used in the classic Stanley Kubrick film, “Full Metal Jacket.” Despite two decades of longevity and accolades, “Surfin’ Bird” was still being licensed by Amos Heilicher in budget compilations of “goofy greats” and “wacky wonders.” Ironically, some of the worst songs of the sixties era, “Harem Holiday” and “Animal Instinct,” were recorded by the “King of Rock and Roll”, Elvis Presley.

Presley’s record label, RCA, and his management managed to prevent any of these musical abominations from being associated with the mythology of the man who gave the world “Heartbreak Hotel.” Amos Heilicher, on the other hand, had no issue with placing “Surfin’ Bird” next to Alvin and the Chipmunks or Sheb Wooley’s “The Purple People Eater.” This decision for the easy dollar led to the misconception of the Trashmen as a novelty act and not the recognition of the group as a top band of their era. Imagine, if you will, the Beatles being promoted on “Yellow Submarine” as their magnum opus, without any context of the band making a song for kids. Perception is a big argument in how an individual sees the world and the things that surround them. If a song is marketed as a classic, it will be considered under those stipulations. If it is sold as a joke, it will be taken thusly so.

After 28 years of Soma distribution, the Trashmen decided enough was enough: “In 1991 we finally got fed up with hearing our song used and went to court to gain licensing rights,” Winslow stated. “At the time, it was being licensed illegally by Musicland, a division of Amos’ empire. The ironic thing was they had no contract to do so. The only contract that ever came across our desk was a document on management by Soma and Garrett. This was never signed since Tony (Andreason, the band’s lead guitarist) was only 20 at the time and his father said he would not sign it. In retrospect, a great decision. The (court) declared we had full ownership of all masters and any distribution or licensing going forward. We now receive compensation for any time the song (“Surfin’ Bird”) is used.”

Since this verdict, The Trashmen have seen a renaissance that is incomparable to any artist from their era, propelling the group from a funny footnote to a band worthy of induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. They are about to embark on a second European tour, after performing a concert at the “Back to the 50’s” Minnesota Street Rod Association show in St. Paul. During this time they will see fans old and new, young and old. To some they will be legends, to others a passport to an infinite memory of youth and innocence. Cars and bars, girls and tilt-a-whirls. To others, for a tiny moment of an hour, there is a band. A great band. A band that celebrates all that is great about rock and roll music. The persistence and diligence inside every kid when they pick up a guitar, trying to get the Chuck Berry lick down until it is as sweet as sugar on cereal. The Trashmen are the code word for belief. What’s the word? Don’t you know the word? It doesn’t need to be said. We all know…

Pearl Jam - Rock and Roll's Latest "Free Agent" Band Fights On

On June 1st, Billboard.com confirmed that rock and roll stalwarts Pearl Jam will be partnering with Target Corporation for the release of their upcoming album, “Backspacer.” Pearl Jam’s alliance with Target is different than artists such as AC/DC and Bruce Springsteen, who gave uber-discounter Wal-Mart exclusive rights to album distribution. Pearl Jam will not just be selling their album through Target, but also through a variety of other outlets, both physical and via the internet. Manager Kelly Curtis stated “Target was cool enough to realize little independent record stores are not their competition,” implying Pearl Jam will still promote new material at your local record store, providing one still exists. As part of the Target deal, Pearl Jam agreed to make a commercial for the Bull’s-eye franchise, a decision that will have many music fans crying “sell-out” from a band that refused to make music videos for seven years. Given the current instability of the music industry, Pearl Jam should not be accused of “selling out” but be applauded for “selling in.”

For the better part of the 1990’s, Pearl Jam waged a one-band war against Ticketmaster, the ticket-selling giant whose monopoly on concerts continues to this day. The band paid a heavy price for their protests, as they found booking arenas difficult if not downright impossible without the consent of Ticketmaster. Many arenas had (and still have) exclusive agreements with Ticketmaster, leaving Pearl Jam essentially blackballed from many areas. In 1998, Pearl Jam conceded the battle and began selling concerts via the evil, fee-happy empire. During the same period, the band released its first music video since “Jeremy”, the iconic single from the band’s debut album “Ten.” “Do the Evolution” was an animated video directed by Spawn creator Todd McFarlane and received substantial MTV play. These changes could be interpreted as the band caving in to pressure from their record label, Sony, but for all accounts the band did not get along with them.

The best answer for Pearl Jam’s business decisions is not found in music, but in baseball. In 1969, outfielder Curt Flood became the first player to challenge Major League Baseball’s reserve clause, which contractually bound a player to the team they currently played with. A stellar player with multiple All-Star Game appearances, Flood put his professional career on the line by refusing to play the 1970 baseball season. Flood took his case all the way the U.S. Supreme Court, who ultimately ruled against him. The mental and physical strain on Curt Flood during this period was tremendous and he retired after a brief stint with the Washington Senators in 1971.

Flood’s failure to successfully overturn the reserve clause inspired two other All-Stars, Dave McNally and Andy Messersmith, to make another attempt at challenging the status quo. Both pitchers played the 1975 season without a contract, arguing that they do now “owe” their service to their current team beyond fulfillment of their contractual obligation. This time, lower courts ruled in favor of the ballplayers. Major League Baseball gave in after several attempts at appealing the decision. The demise of the reserve clause led to the free agent market, in which players can sign with any team they choose. McNally chose to retire, while Messersmith signed with Ted Turner’s Atlanta Braves for a ton of money. Like Curt Flood before him, the strain on Messersmith led to several sub-par seasons before he finally retired in 1979.

The free agent market flourished after the 1975 decision, allowing baseball teams such as the New York Yankees to stock their roster with great players and essentially “buy” world championships in 1977 and 1978. Major League ballplayers would control much of how the game was financially played until 1994, when a player’s strike ended the baseball season, canceling the World Series. In 2002, an attempt at another strike was met by fan hostility, with beers, baseballs and profanities being thrown on the field during the final games on August 30th before an agreement was reached. Fan tolerance for rich teams and players had reached a breaking point, resulting in an agreement that has made baseball universally competitive for the first time in its history.

Throughout most of the 1990’s Pearl Jam was the music industry’s Curt Flood. Their anti-corporate stance was applauded and supported by their millions of fans but their decision to refuse to make music videos and play ball with the evil empire of Ticketmaster prevented the band from gaining or even sustaining their fan base. It is understandable the band’s record label, Sony, would not spend considerable PR time and money on an artist not willing to play the industry game. In the 2000’s, a record buyer would rarely see a big promotional effort to support the band, despite loyal fan allegiance and a history which places Pearl Jam among the best rock and roll acts in history. Although their concerts are still well-attended and indeed phenomenal, Sony seemed more interested in getting behind artists who perform the typical dog and pony show. The music industry has changed rapidly during this decade, resulting in inferior but photogenic artists being pushed in an unwilling public’s ear.

The propensity of downloading (legal or illegal) has resulted in several established artists to become the music equivalent of “free agents.” Radiohead’s decision to release their last album, “In Rainbows,” on a “pay what you want” basis online, surprisingly resulted in platinum physical sales. Subsequently, Trent Reznor’s latest Nine Inch Nails release, “Ghosts I-IV,” was offered for free download but record buyers were given unprecedented alternate options, including autographed copies if the purchaser was willing to pay for it. Although Pearl Jam had yet to enter this brave new world, their efforts a decade before set the stage for Radiohead’s and Nine Inch Nails’ success. Pearl Jam was the first major artist to allow and encourage bootlegging of their live concerts. The band went so far as to record every show during their 2000 tour and release the double-CD’s at a discount price. Bootleg concerts were a prime mover in the underground music industry until the advent of the internet. Three-hour Bruce Springsteen concerts would sell for sixty bucks at record shows, despite that they were made for five bucks in somebody’s basement. But access is everything, and music fans were more than willing to pay for a great show with good sound that made you feel like you were there. Pearl Jam’s release of it’s entire live tour delivered the first blow to bootleggers without a single legal action. Soon after, CD burning and internet downloading leveled these once astronomical prices. Pearl Jam’s live albums gave die-hard fans what they wanted, albeit with a little overkill.

The 21st Century has not been kind to Pearl Jam, whose fan base has dwindled further and unlike Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails, have yet to gain interest from young music fans. Their partnership with Target should be seen as the band “selling in” rather than “selling out.” There is little argument Pearl Jam would have been one of the biggest acts in rock and roll history if they did not challenge the system. Unlike the late Curt Flood, Pearl Jam still has power over their destiny. If the band’s new record and commercial for Target reignites interest in the group from the public, they could experience a resurgence seldom seen in the music industry. If there is one thing to know about Pearl Jam, is they are dedicated and persistent. Don’t count them out yet.

If Pearl Jam’s gamble is even somewhat successful, they may pave the way for younger artists to break from their labels while they are still Billboard and iTunes darlings. There is yet to be a Reggie Jackson or Alex Rodriguez in the music industry, who became free agents at the peak of their careers. Imagine if Eminem, Black Eyed Peas or even the Jonas Brothers spurned record labels and took charge of their marketing and promotion. Many music critics such as Bob Leftsetz have predicted the demise of traditional music industry practices for some time. It remains to be seen when and exactly how the final blow will be delivered. When it happens, the artists who benefit from the fallout should thank artists like Pearl Jam, whose anti-corporate stance, incredible live shows and refusal to conform are more than enough qualifications to enter the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Commencement

Commencement: An act, instance or time of making a beginning

When one thinks of commencement and commencement speeches, very rarely does anyone remember the minute instances and details of this important occasion, only the blur that occurs inside the mind when it is obvious your life will change in a permanent way. I remember little of mine, except that I wore short shorts, which garnered criticism from my grandfather and compliments from girls. I have no recollection of who gave the commencement address or what it was about. Those of you who have sat through a handful of these events, be it high school or college, probably have a good idea. The speaker talks about the future, how it is what you make it, that it is important that each and every one of you make a positive mark on society. It seems every commencement speaker has the same playbook of clichés, analogies, and contrite optimism.

Politicians and celebrity speakers are especially guilty of this, considering they rarely touch on the subjects most knowledgeable to them. Oprah shouldn’t be talking about the future, she should be giving tips on how to best use the never-ending pasta bar at Olive Garden. Billy Joel should only be giving tips on how to avoid writer’s block and car crashes. Bill Clinton has no inspirational thoughts on the future, unless they involve expensive speaking engagements during which he spends over an hour discussing and elaborating on essentially nothing. President Barack Obama’s advice for graduates should not include how anything is possible, but if you screw up your life to the extent where you are too big to fail, he will happily bail you out. Why are these people asked to give motivational speeches when someone from the local community students actually know would have a far greater impact?

A good friend of mine recently gave a commencement address to a local class of high school seniors. For three years, he had been their teacher, inspiring and engaging students in English, a subject considered quite hard to connect with kids especially in the age of texting, social networking and general disinterest. A man who does not accept failure easily, he gained students’ admiration and respect, going above and beyond to help students with their work. His reward for such outstanding work was termination due to budget cuts. His dedicated students started a Facebook group and presented the school board with a petition filled with hundreds of signatures to no avail. What’s done is done. Rules are rules and there is very little people can do to change them. On that night, many students received their first dose of adult reality: there is indeed a limit to things you can do and accomplish. A harsh lesson but one that needs to be learned, sooner or later. This moment may have been in my friend’s thoughts as he addressed his group of seniors. What followed was not only the best commencement speech I’ve heard, but the only one which addressed students on their level.

He began his speech with the frank statement that he considered declining the speaking invitation due to the upcoming change in his life. He decided to accept on the reasoning both the Class of 2009 and he were facing an uncertain future. This is especially true this year for both high school and college graduates. The job market is dim, if nonexistent for many students. There are millions of experienced, qualified candidates for every job right now. The quality of worker seen at the average Wal-Mart and McDonald’s has risen to the point where the average employee is overqualified for their menial tasks. The economic collapse (people should really stop using “downturn:” it is an insult to intelligence) has affected thousands of teachers like my friend. For the first time in many years, there are few, if any openings for even the most exceptional educators, a description that still does a disservice to my friend’s ability. The odds in winning the lottery look better than landing a good job. This fact is not lost on the class of 2009. Always a realist, my friend chose to address the ups and downs of this most uncertain future.

Personal uncertainty, he stated, is a time “when you learn who you are.” Friendships may become distant, changes may be unexpected and drastic, but how you choose to deal with these events will be what makes or breaks you as a person. “You will become different, you will become an individual and have responsibilities…you will have to make decisions.” Most graduates in high school or college will witness their snowglobe world become much larger and hazier. They will soon find themselves in different surroundings and with new people, whose lives and experiences may not mirror their own. They most likely will not be impressed with athletic accomplishments or delinquent endeavors. They may not care for your favorite music or if they do, they may know far more about it than you do. It becomes difficult to impress people with stories. What remains is the individual’s personality. Are you caring or callous? Do you go out of your way to help others in need or do you “phone it in”? Are you your own person or do you follow the crowd, adapting their behaviors, likes and dislikes to avoid scrutiny? These decisions define what an individual is. If you are willing to be yourself, make logical decisions and back them up, the rewards are far-reaching and permanent. Become what you are, not what someone else wants you to be.

My friend’s speech turned to the subject of love and friendship. “Keep the ones you love near and dear to you…receive love and show love.” He stated that when times are hard, those you love will get you through. It is important to not lose these people as your lives change, but stay in contact with them as best you can. They are the people who will be by your side as you go through the good times and bad. They are the friends and family who will celebrate your marriage or comfort you during a divorce. They are the people who hold your newborn child and help you cope when that child becomes a teenager and totals your car. It is vital not to lose these connections or let them become distant. In our Web 2.0 era of Facebook and Twitter, it is still all too easy to not return phone calls or emails. You will get caught up in your lives; the day-to-day tasks that drain the energy once used to stay up until the crack of dawn discussing life, the universe and everything. It is important that you keep making the time, even if it is just a text or a quick shout-out. If you are there for them, they will be there for you. Great friendships last a lifetime. What began as copying a worksheet or playing a videogame turns into car repair, home remodeling or just reminiscing over a few select beverages. The next time you see a group of elderly guys chatting away over a pot of coffee at the local diner or a group of older ladies making a quilt, think of how friendship and love can be with you throughout your lifetime.

Never one to display overt emotion, my friend exhibited it at the end of his speech. It occurred to me and possibly to him as well, that his speech was not just for graduates, but for all of us listening. At different times we all go through commencements and face the task of making our beginning. Sometimes the occasion is a happy one, sometimes not so much. As the Class of 2009 and my friend begin a new phase of life, there are many others who face an unknown future. It is up to us as individuals if we choose to celebrate change or lament it. We all need to have faith and love inside, regardless of the obstacles before us. I have known my friend for twenty-five years, a friendship I cannot come close to stating how much it means to me. Both of us are gamers at heart, always looking for the inside edge in Mario Kart as well as life. If there is one thing I have learned from our friendship, it is to never give up; an attribute I hope to pass to my young children as they grow. The future is always bright if you chose to make it so.

Begin the beginning
Eyes to the future
Still fighting
Still winning

Copyright 2009 Adam Koeppe

Commencement definition derived from Miriam Webster

Garage Sale of the Dead

The month of May tends to be the beginning of garage sale season in many parts of the United States. A time when spring-cleaning gives way to a collection of unwanted artifacts and questionable Christmas gifts. For many, it is the great American pastime, with weekends spent scouring home after home in search of a needed item at a steep discount or treasure hunting for valuable baubles that missed the eye of their owner. Be it baby clothes, a dining room set or the first Van Halen record, there’s usually something for everybody at a citywide garage sale near you. Unfortunately, this is more accurate than ever in 2009, as many families are being forced to sell possessions which were household necessities a year before. For some, it is a means to make up for a lost job or a jump in their mortgage payment. For others, it is a forced liquidation as the home in which they are having the sale will soon not be theirs.

A feeling of dread comes across me as I walk from house to house in a development constructed less than a decade ago. Sales are everywhere the eye can see and bargains galore, if you can stomach the reason an $800 grill is selling for a hundred bucks. The signs of departure are sadly obvious. Boats, fish houses, foosball tables and nautilus sets priced to sell and sell quickly. These items can’t fit into an apartment or town home. They are physical evidence of a family trying to live the American Dream and failing. Many will say it is their own fault. Not reading the fine print of the mortgage loan, maxing out credit cards and failing to develop a monthly budget are fallibilities too common these days, but it is difficult, if not completely callous, to overlook the suffering on the faces of so many who were just trying to achieve what so many take for granted. It is easy for many of us to laugh at the saps profiled in the news who cry about not making ends meet on a six-figure income. It is far more difficult to see them standing in the back corner of their garage with a change box.

It is in our nature to take advantage of the financial mistakes of others, particularly if the plight can be reconciled inside the conscience. When I scored a 1959 Erector set, an original 45 of Buddy Holly’s “Oh Boy” and a copy of “Uncle Scrooge #6 (in which Scrooge drinks beer), it never occurred to me to tell the owner they are selling these items for peanuts. It’s their own fault, right? If they actually took the time to price these items or bring them to the almighty “Antiques Roadshow,” they wouldn’t be dumb enough to sell them for a buck. This is the conceit people who frequent garage sales and flea markets abide by: if you don’t know what it is worth – too bad. This philosophy works best with strangers and in towns a person does not frequent very often. I broke this unwritten code a few years ago when I saw a Carlton Fisk rookie card selling for a dollar at the residence of a man I had known most of my life. Joe is a good guy, someone who would never take advantage of another just to make a quick buck. I couldn’t in good faith buy the card of the Boston Red Sox Hall of Famer without telling Joe it was worth substantially more. Joe told me to take it anyway, stating the price was the price and he wasn’t into collecting baseball cards anymore. As I paid him, I realized Joe knew and abided by the unwritten rules of garage sales. Purchasing “Pudge” for that price still made me uneasy and I have yet to add it to my collection. It is still sitting on my bookcase, waiting to be given to a deserving recipient. For some reason I never thought I deserved to own it, at least not on those circumstances.

Americans lucky enough to have avoided this recession will find deals aplenty if they are willing to overlook the economic circumstances involved in the sale. It is doubtful anyone feels sorry for Macy’s when they get 50 to 75 percent off the entire purchase. Macy’s is just a store. It’s not a real person. That fallacy works if one forgets many people work for Macy’s and are facing employment elimination if the company’s profit margin continues to decline. We celebrate the great deals and brag about them to our friends because that’s just what we do. If the profit is impersonal, then it is justified. Most of the mortgage brokers, bankers and financial advisors who made a fortune bankrupting thousands of people probably thought the same way. It’s the customer’s fault if they don’t understand what they’re signing right? They’re not being forced to do anything they don’t want to. It is their choice to invest or take out a ginormous loan. If they aren’t fully aware of the consequences, well that’s just too damn bad. Sounds pretty vile and empathetic, doesn’t it? When we celebrate our garage sale and department store booty, aren’t we doing pretty much the same thing?

It is many American’s nature to want lots of stuff and not have to pay diddly-squat for it. Pyramid marketing scams work on many people for a reason. The concept of getting an “inside deal” better than most folks is like panning for gold in the Old West except there’s no guns, criminals, diseases, lawlessness and the actual chance of making a profit. Take a step back the next time you’re at one of these garage sales that seem too good to be true. When you see a sweet motorcycle for two grand, children’s trampolines for twenty bucks or a rockin’ stereo system practically being given away, think for a bit of the circumstances possibly involved in the situation. The garage sale is real but for many Americans selling their possessions, it represents the death of their dream. Our lives are indeed long and the potential of rebuilding all that is lost is possible, no matter how dire the situation may be. However, many families forced to give up so much may decide it is just not worth having their lives upheaved again. Their belief in the stereotypical “American Dream” has disappeared along with the home they thought they would live in for decades or a lifetime. These aren’t just garage sales anymore. They’re bloody funerals.

If you frequent any of these sales this year, maybe offer a little extra cash even if it goes against the unwritten garage sale code. Be thankful you have the extra money to buy the trampoline for your kids. Buy some of the homemade cookies and lemonade next to the change box and tell the seller how much you appreciate it. Look them in the eye and give them a reassuring smile. It may not mean much but it is the least you can do outside of ridding them of their George Foreman Grill. As you drive home, count your blessings alongside the great finds. Life takes many an unexpected turn as we live it. It is easier to live without things than empathy or conscience; unappraisable, invaluable attributes that are definitely not worth haggling about.

Copyright 2009 Adam Koeppe

The Trashmen Live: The Bird is Still the Word!

The Medina Ballroom in Medina, Minnesota is the kind of place you’d expect to find flea markets and Johnny Cash impersonators. The place where the talent and audience share the same bathroom. It was in Medina men’s room I ran into Tony Andreason, lead guitarist and vocalist of the Trashmen, the 1960’s band famous for their hit single, “Surfin’ Bird.” “This is a little bit different than the Cabooze,” I said. Tony smiled, stating “That was a great time.” I told him I was the guy in front of the stage who was plugged into the electric outlet, a phrase coined by my friend, Klink, to describe my excitement at 1998’s Big Hits of Mid-America Concert at the Cabooze in Minneapolis. The concert featured the major Minnesota rock and roll bands of the 1960’s such as the Del-Counts, Castaways and Underbeats. The Trashmen were the headliners that evening, a night where I finally realized why all those kids in the sixties danced and screamed like maniacs. Pure, stripped down rock and roll, played at a fast tempo with maximum volume does something to the insides. It’s impossible to just stand; you gotta dance!

“Surfin’ Bird” was one of many 45’s in my Mom’s record collection. When I was about five, she started to let me play them by myself. Of course, there were casualties (sorry “Georgy Girl” by the Seekers, I didn’t mean it). Of all the records Mom had, a few were played far more than others, one of which was “Surfin’ Bird” and “King of the Surf” by the Trashmen. There are no A or B-sides in a kids mind, just the raw feeling of something fun. I tended to play both songs equally but I confess to preferring “the Bird.” It sounded like nothing else I’ve heard, a song which demanded to be played loud. I had no general knowledge of the history and hierarchies of rock and roll. To my five year-old self, the Trashmen were just as great as the Beatles, Elvis and Roy Orbison. When we would go driving and “Surfin’ Bird” (or “King of the Surf”) would come on the radio, she would let me crank the radio to the maximum level she could tolerate. Thirty years later, I still have that 45 and still play it a little too loud for comfort.

Klink scored a group of us preferred seating at the Trashmen’s Medina show. As we took our seats, they seemed similar to the Ray Liotta scene in “Goodfellas” when he takes his girlfriend to see Bobby Vinton. Many in the audience dressed semi-formal and the waiters came to the table to take drink orders. This seemed a little too nice for rock and roll. This wasn’t Bobby Vinton singing “Roses are Red,” this was the Trashmen! A band that caused Family Guy’s Peter Griffin to torture his dysfunctional clan with “Surfin’ Bird” for and entire ten-minute segment of the show. The use of the song on Family Guy propelled “Surfin’ Bird” back into the charts 45 years after its initial release, hitting number eight on iTunes and cracking the top fifty in the U.K. It was doubtful many in the Medina audience knew this as the average age was significantly older than Family Guy’s target market.

The opening band, the Surf Dawgs, were and excellent instrumental group, drummer Sally West being particularly outstanding. Their version of the James Bond Theme was the highlight of a very solid performance. I spoke to lead guitarist Tom Kaplan after their set and his enthusiasm of rock and roll was obvious. The Surf Dawgs have a passion for instrumentals, a genre seldom heard these days. I hope a band this dedicated and talented finds the audience they deserve.

The Trashmen came on stage a half hour later wearing matching buttoned red shirts like it was 1963. The band tuned their own instruments before they began, which took less than a minute, a feat I’d challenge any modern group to repeat. Tony Andreason, playing a 1957 Stratocaster began the show saying all the songs in the set the Trashmen had recorded sometime during their 47 years together. The opening song, “My Woodie” an ode to the 1960’s station wagon had my knees moving. I knew I wouldn’t be sitting in the prestige seats for long. The band’s sound was so spot-on and precise it acted like a time machine back to an era where every kid spun records in their room and dreamed of being in a rock and roll band. As Andreason began introducing “King of the Surf” a song the great Dick Dale called his favorite surf song, I could not sit any longer. My legs were movin’ and my heart was pumpin’. I stood by some die-hard rock and roll guys who positioned themselves in the exact center of the speakers. As “King of the Surf” kicked in, I realized quickly this was the best spot for sound. I felt the song through me like that four-year-old from years past. Andreason’s breakneck solo amplified the chorus:

Well I'm a high ridin' surfer and it takes three crunchers
and a heavy to wipe me outI can do a double spinner before you count to threeWhoa oh, king of the surf

Soon after, Tony Andreason introduced the song “Comic Book Collector”, a song that channeled a 1988 memory when the song was released. It seems so long ago when local radio station were actually local and had the authority to promote new songs. It didn’t get played for long but I remembered it. Rock and roll has the incredable ablity to do this; to take you back deep inside your memories to pasts long forgotten. Eventually, I gravitated to the front left of the stage, the only part of the Media where one can get close and still dance. The Trashmen ripped through Dick Dale’s “Miserlou,” a song showcasing Andreason’s gifts as a guitarist. They slowed the tempo down for a nice, bluesy version of “House of New Orleans” which was very tight and made me wonder how the band might have evolved had they not been pushed off the charts by the Beatles and the British Invasion.

Andreason’s dry humor introduced “the song you all came to hear.” There was a slight pause which I used to scream out “Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!” Bassist Bob Reed pointed to me with a thumbs up. It wasn’t just the adrenaline of a great concert causing me to proclaim this, to me it was a no-brainer. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has been inducting fairly obscure artists under the “Early Influence” category for years. I love Little Anthony and the Imperials, but the strenght of “Tears on My Pillow” and “Shimmy Shimmy Shimmy Coco Pop” pales in comparison to the Trashmen’s greatest song. This is not a comparison of influence, but one of durablity. The ability to reach generations of listeners and affect them with a song for almost fifty years pretty much says “Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.” The Trashmen launched into “Surfin Bird” in same fashion one could expect from “You Shook Me All Night Long” or “Born to Run.” A two-minute, thirty second burst of rock and roll transcendance. It makes your heart glad.

The Trashmen invited the Surf Dawgs on stage to jam on the final number, a powerhouse cover of Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Great Balls of Fire.” The tightness and passion from the musicians was more than is seen at the average arena show. These were people not going through the motions, but having fun doing what every kid used to dream of: play great rock and roll. The merchandise table was busy after the concert ended, the Trashmen staying until they met the last fan waiting. It was heartening to see so many vinyl copies of the band’s albums being sold, a sign thing might becoming full circle in the universe of music. The Trashmen’s signature t-shirt: they gave the world “the Bird” stands as piece of juvenile innuendo Family Guy’s Seth MacFarlane would definitely appreciate. As I ventured back into the Medina men’s room to take care of business before I left, I noticed a white-haired guy I had seen by the left side of the stage during the entire performance. I assumed he was the sound guy or manager. “No,” he replied. “I’m just an old groupie. My first concert was the Doors.” Unreal. Sometimes the most interesting parts of a concert happen in the bathroom. That’s rock and roll for you.

Maureen Dowd, Stop Your Damn Crying!

Things change. It’s a basic fact of life. Things that were once popular become niche-ridden fads. The last ten years have seen the evaporation of record stores, the rise and fall of five-dollar lattes and the end of VHS. Nothing lasts forever, even cold November rain. Most clear-minded individuals understand this circle, with a notable exception. New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd has spent a good part of this year whining about the potential demise of the newspaper industry. This has required little journalistic or literary skill, just complete jealousy toward the media that is supplanting her. The collapse of the newspaper industry has happened at a remarkable pace, a thought that probably never occurred to the Pulitzer Prize winner as she toasted the construction of the massive New York Times building almost a decade ago.

It should be noted that Ms. Dowd is a wealthy woman. If her precious position at the Times is eliminated, her life (but possibly not her influence) will go on. Most likely, you will not see her at the local food shelf or selling her belongings and property to raise money just to survive. She can use her decades of connections and awards, land another book deal, become a talking head on a cable news network or God forbid use her exceptional writing ability in another format. I hear “Marmaduke” is in need of a good ghost writer.

Ms. Dowd’s incessant criticism and mocking of Twitter and Google News reveals her to be nothing but a spoiled, grown-up brat who is always used to getting her way. Nobody likes having their baby taken away. Be it the moronic hair bands of the eighties getting their party ticket crushed by Nirvana, auto companies discovering their monster trucks are no longer saleable to the masses or political parties realizing their ideology appeals to an ever-shrinking minority, everyone cries a little when the tide turns against them. Most people realize they have to buck up, find a way to reinvent your product and hope your message resonates with a modern audience. Apparently, Ms. Dowd believes she is entitled to her position regardless of any major economic shifts and has chosen to use her over-inflated salary to defend her soon to be extinct industry and her own status as a member of the elite media. There is a reason Bob Dylan never writes songs about his lack of record sales. It is insulting to the audience and pathetic to endure.

There are bigger issues to discuss regarding the newspaper industry than Maureen Dowd’s precious employment. Is it really so awful that the internet has provided almost infinite sources to get the news, leaving the reader to choose the medium to get content? In a supposed free-market society, shouldn’t this “evening of the playing field” benefit journalism as a whole? Why isn’t Ms. Dowd invigorated to have to compete for readership alongside the likes of Meghan McCain, Harry Shearer or Nikolas Sarkozy? Competition should bring out the best in people, except for those who prefer that there is none. Maybe Ms. Dowd is afraid of losing all those sweet business expenses; the free plane rides, lunches and dinners with the political elite? When she flies across the country to interview a person for a column that is is not long enough to qualify as an undergrad paper, I have a good assumption she is not paying for a darn thing.

The hubris of the newspaper industry is staggering. Most of these dinosaur papers believe they have the inalienable right to make the news rather than just report it. They take sides, show bias on one side of an issue over another and pay themselves handsomely in the process. This philosophy used to enable writers to get scoops and favors, which help in attempting to garner the almighty Pulitzer. However, this concept has devolved into a sense of pure entitlement. The inauguration of President Barack Obama was covered by every news network in the known universe, yet most major newspapers forked over thousands of dollars to send correspondents to witness the event live even as their parent companies stock value continued to disintegrate. This sense of entitlement in a Web 2.0 world is laughable. The belief that a newspaper can provide an authoritarian influence over public opinion is the same as General Motors’ fallacy of Hummer-hungry humanoids willing to pay five bucks for a gallon of gas.

This “same as it ever was, same as it ever was” attitude has doomed newspaper as well as big auto to almost certain devolution, if not all-out extinction. Maureen Dowd’s columns are not just printed in the New York Times, but are circulated nation-wide to an ever-dwindling readership. Papers have made the ill-fated choice to circle the wagons and protect their own, rather than publish op-eds by local writers. Similar to General Motors’ attitude toward Japanese automakers like Toyota, if they pretend there is not a threat to supremacy, than the threat is nonexistent. However, why should I (or any other reader) take the time to read the old-school columnists when I can pick and choose from an almost infinite amount of websites and blogs which have writers who are taking more chances, handling more controversial subjects and are just plain better. I can read columnists such as Ken Rosenthal and Jim Ross who cater to subjects I am interested in rather than be forced to ingest overrated writers like Garrison Keillor and Ms. Dowd. Given the choice, I’ll take the literary smackdown of Good ‘ol J.R. any day.

The one fundamental difference between the plight of Ms. Dowd and the thousands of unemployed (or soon to be unemployed) autoworkers is sadly economical. Displaced autoworkers have not only lost their job, but may lose their pension, healthcare or even their house. Whether she chooses to admit it or not, Maureen Dowd has influence and affluence, something most other folks could only dream to possess. Yet her pain is somehow more important, as she has chosen to broadcast it all over the country while the guy that just received his pink slip from Chrysler has little time to complain as he figures out a way to provide for his family. This lack of understanding and empathy is unfortunately typical for the newspaper industry, which only sees the plight of others through a champagne glass. The millions of individuals getting their news through the internet have recognized this arrogance and have responded with click after click to new forms of media. The internet is not to blame but the failure to recognize and adapt to a 21st Century society most certainly is. Maureen Dowd, stop your damn crying! Welcome to the future. Deal with it.