PCBEEUSA - Freedom on the Web

I have a young friend who calls himself “Shoeless Chuck.”  He’s a creative type who makes, among other things, “AMVs” or Anime Music Videos.  That’s where you edit together scenes from a movie or video game and set it to music.  His work is fantastic.  I particularly like the ones he did for IronMan and Afro Samurai.  Check it out: http://theshoelesschuckproject.weebly.com/index.html

I was chatting with him on Facebook when he told me about his videos.  I told him that I had actually done a music video of my own.  About 15 or 16 years ago, I created a music video using scenes from Star Trek episodes and movies, and set it to, of all things, a disco version of the Original Star Trek theme.  I was able to come up with something that was kind of nice, I think.

Now, keep in mind, this was “old school.”  No computers with digital editing.  That stuff did not exist yet (well, probably it did, but there was no way I could get my hands on any of it).  This was all done using video tape.  Yes, video tape.  And a video editing console, similar to what you see in the photo here.  I used 3/4 inch Sony U-Matic video cassettes, editing decks and controller.  I had to borrow or rent the TV espisodes and movies on tape, locate the scenes and then insert the scenes where I wanted them to go, synchronizing it all to the music.

A lot of work, but also a lot of fun.  Not to knock the talents and work of Shoeless Chuck and others, but the “old school” method was a real challenge.  Take a peek below and see what you think.  The quality is a little poor because this is from a 3rd generation copy (a copy of a copy of the original).

I don’t know about you, but I am getting a little tired of our national anthem getting botched.  A little interpretation is fine, as long as the actual melody is there, and there is little excuse for not getting the words right.

I supposed children no longer sing the national anthem in school?  I was watching the news yesterday while they were reporting on  Christina Aguilera’s performance at the Super Bowl and they felt the need to tell us what the words should have been.  That’s when it occurred to me that there are many, many people who don’t know the words.  I have read since that her rehersal was better and maybe she was just nervous.  I guess I can see that.  It was the Superbowl.  But it seems to happen so often.

I will never forget, back in the mid 1970′s, I took a trip to Toronto, Canada.  It was during thier Dominion Day celebration.  I was at an outdoor concert where the orchestra played a special composition that ended in a rendition of “O Canada!,” the Canadian national anthem.  It seemed that everyone in the audience stood and sang the song with such feeling that it almost brought tears to my eyes.  These people loved thier country.  For a moment I considered defecting.

Somewhere we have lost out patriotism and national pride.  Some may say it is because of racism or something like that, but I don’t think so.  Americans of all races and creeds love this country (even if they don’t like a lot of things about it.)  I’m not sure where or when it started.

Probably when we stopped praying in school, also.

There are a couple of creedos that I follow. One I got from my dear wife Donna. It goes, “If you don’t ask, you don’t get.” The other, which is mine, is, “sometimes opportunity comes to you–just be ready when it does.”

Last weekend, my wife and some of our best friends surprised me. What I thought was going to be a quiet weekend at thier Indiana home turned out, on Saturday, to be a trip to the ComicCon in Rosemont. An early birtday present for me.

Shortly after we arrived, I was standing near the entrance to the Exposition Hall with my Son-In-Law while everyone else was making a trip to the rest rooms. Suddenly there was a commotion at one of the doorways. A celebrity was making his way into the room, or was trying to. He was getting mobbed by people looking for photos and autographs. Was it William Shatner? Carrie Fisher? No. It was none other than former governor Rod Blagojevich. The crowd at the door was going nuts and he was loving every second of it.

Meanwhile, in another entrance, completely unnoticed, Mr. Walter Koenig quietly walked in.  For those who don’t know, he was Mr. Chekov on the Original Star Trek series.  Both of my creedos kicked in.  Here was the opportunity.  As he approached, I called him by name, being careful to pronounce it correctly, “Mr. Koenig!  It is a pleasure to meet you, sir!”  and I held out my hand.  A gentileman will rarely ignore an outstretched hand.  So while the geeks were swarming Blagojevich, I was shaking hands with Walter Koenig.

Sadly, the ComicCon and Sci-Fi Conventions are not the same.  Time was you’d pay your $20 or $30 to get in and you were entitled to an autograph and maybe even a photo of the star celebrities.  You just had to be willing to wait an hour in line.  I have an enviable collection of autographed photos by Nichelle Nichols (Lt. Uhura), James Doohan (Mr. Scott), Michael Dorn (Worf), and Jeri Ryan (Seven of Nine),  just to name a few.  Now, you have to pay an extra fee for autographs, sometimes exorbitant ones.  $95 for a photo and autograph of William Shatner.  $100 for Adam West and Burt Ward in front of the Batmobile.  Somehow, it has lost it’s appeal. 

The ComicCon was still fun.  It was great getting a peek at the stars,  Shatner, Koenig, Avery Brooks (Capt. Sisko), John DeLancie (Q), and others like Carrie Fisher (Princess Leia), Linda Hamilton (from the Terminator Series) and a few surprises like Richard Roundtree (Shaft).

One cool thing, I got a comic book autographed by  Gary Friedrich, the creator of the “Ghost Rider” series.  A bargain at $15.00.  The photo was free.

Just heard that Mitch Miller has died.  Actually, I was suprised to hear that he was still alive!  He was 99.

Who was Mitch Miller?  He hosted a live TV show many, many years ago.  The original Karaoke!  He would have a choir of singers on stage, belting out old classics, while the words flashed on the screen below.  So the viewers could literally sing along.  I watched many an episode of this show with my Grandma, who also introduced me to Lawrence Welk (I actually learned how to Polka watching that show).

I went to You Tube to find a video to post here, and to enjoy a little nostalgia.  Watching the video (it is posted below) I saw…Johnny Carson!!??  Don’t know if he was a regular or some kind of special guest.  Also, part of Mitch’s crew was a crooner named Bob McGrath.  Sound familiar?  Think Sesame Street.  And of course the lovely Leslie Uggams who got her start on his show.

What I remember most was Mitch Millers unique way of conducting.

Those were the days!

I was a pretty good student in high school.  In my sophomore year I had good grades and realistic dreams of going to college.  I was also rather sickly that year, and missed a considerable amount of school.  I was able to make up my work and exams with all of the teachers, except one. My biology teacher, Mrs. Tetlow (who must have been 70 or 80 years old) was going to fail me because I had been sick and had missed so much class time.  Made no difference that my grades were good, there was a rule that anyone who had missed that much time had to get a failing grade. 

The only reason I passed biology was because Mrs. Tetlow died about midterm, and the replacement teacher, a bright and eccentric young man, decided to grade me based on my performance.

That young man was named Edwin F. Evert. 

I heard on the news that a 72-year-old eccentric botanist was killed by a grizzly bear in Yellowstone National Park.  His name was Edwin F. Evert.

 Is it the same man?  Well, can’t be too many people with that name.  In one news article it did say he taught high school biology in Chicago.  And the age is right.

The most compelling thing is, as I am writing this, I am looking at his signature in my yearbook.

And I don’t even like seafood.

But I was hooked on the Discovery Channel’s reality show “Deadliest Catch,” where they followed crews of brave, crazy crab fishermen  up near the Artic Circle.  The reason for the  fascination is obvious.  These men worked literally day and night for several weeks, if they filled the storage tanks with crab and got them to the port in time, they could make tons of money.  If the fishing was bad or they guessed wrong, they went home broke.

I finally understand why seafood is so expensive.

I found myself cheering when the crab traps were full and my heart sank when they came up empty.  I got to witness what appeared to be real life drama when the men did not get along, or when the stress was too much for them.

And drama is what the networks are looking for.  Drama equals ratings. 

Then came the ultimate drama.

A few times, I watched breathlessly as men fell overboard and were rescued against all odds.  Men would slip and fall or get hit in the head with heavy equipment, risking serious injury, hours away from any kind of medical treatment.  Yeah, exciting.  Like watching Star Trek, only this was real.  In Star Trek, the heroes always made it back.

Then, one episode– mayday.  One of the ships had gone down and the other crews searched desperately and listened helplessly to the radio during while the Coast Guard scoured the seas.  But there was no rescue this time.  Men died.  Only a few survived.  Although this was not one of the crews that the series followed,  they had, ironically, shot some video of these men before they had left on the fateful voyage,  joking with each other about not making it back.  For weeks they re-ran that episode, along with one where one of the survivors told the terrible story of how he watched his friends and fellow crewmen die when he could not help them.

I’m sure the ratings soared.

For me, it was no longer fun after that.  I watched it less and less.

The problem with reality TV is that it won’t let you go.  One of the dramas that unfolded while I was watching surrounded one of the captains, a loveable curmudgeon named Phil Harris.  He got extremely ill during one of the voyages.  When they got back they got him to the hospital where he discovered that he had nearly died.  His days of a crab boat captain was over.

Well, it hit the news this week that Capt. Phil passed away.  I look at the photos and the video with that same spooky feeling I get when I look at pictures and video of loved ones who have passed on.  Even though I stopped watching the show, it still got to me this week.

Now many will say that reality TV is what it’s all about.  Yes, I still watch Ghost Hunters, and exciting shows like “Destroyed in Seconds” or the ones about the wild police chases, but even when you see an accident where someone dies, well, it’s all at a distance;  you don’t know the person.  You feel bad, but you can still sleep at night.  When a major character on your favorite fictional drama is killed off, you may be a little saddened, even grieve a little bit, but you know that the person was not real, and that the actor is likely to turn up in another series in a few months.

But Capt. Phil is gone for real.  Reality TV is real.  Too real.  And, as bad as I may feel, I cannot imagine what his friends and family are going through, seeing him in the news and on TV in the countless re-runs will certainly be aired.

Sometimes, that’s not entertainment.

My wife and I saw Denzel Washington in “The Book of Eli” last weekend.  A couple of weekends before that we saw “Avatar,” in 3D.  Both great movies.

For the movies that we don’t get to see in the theaters, we have a Netflix account.  DVDs come in the mail and we can stream some movies online.  Not to be outdone, sometimes we’ll connect a computer to a projector and project it on the wall, a bigger image than the biggest flatscreen TV.

To me, a good movie is an experience.  I like to sit in the center of the theater when possible, to get the most out of the stereo.  And Donna and I are usually the last to leave the theater, because we’re part of a very small minority of people who actually hang around and read the credits. Sometimes the music is really nice, and  occasionally, we have been rewarded; the funny after credits ending of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” and the big hint after the credits in “Iron Man.”

So I really don’t get pirating movies online, especially before the film comes out.  I want to see the big movies on the big screen.  And then there’s the strange contradiction that I hear from some people.  ”Why don’t they make more movies like this?”  they say while watching a bootleg.  Well, if you watch a bootleg, no one makes money on it and there is just that much less incentive to make those movies.  After all, it is business.  Movies are made to make money.  If they don’t make money, they won’t get made.  If you don’t buy a ticket, buy a DVD or pay for a rental, they won’t make money.

Sometimes it’s just the “cool” factor.  That you managed to “beat the system.”  Years ago, before home video tape, a friend of mine got his hands on a pirated copy of “Star Wars.”  He was so proud of it.  No matter that you had to have an expensive, professional player to watch it.  He showed it to me.  It was noisy and grainy, and, since the person who made the recording did not have an anamorphic lens,  the Death Star looked more like the Death Egg.

Another strange story.  A young lady I knew was watching a bootleg copy of “The Passion of  The Christ” (that was wrong on so many levels!).  If you recall, everyone in the film spoke in Aramaic, the language of that place and time, meaning you had to read the subtitles.  The person who made the bootleg did it by sneaking a camera into the theater.  In the process of recording, he neglected to capture all of the subtitles.  So she got what she paid for.

  The “Cool Gent” makes history

Herb Kent "The Cool Gent" inducted into the Guiness Book of World Records

On December 5th, my wife Donna and I had the priveledge of attending a celebrity roast of radio legend Herb Kent “The Cool Gent.”

As a kid,  I remember listening to him on WVON on my little 2-transistor radio.  Actually, I bounced between WVON and WLS, enjoying music from “both sides of the tracks.”  These guys were all heroes to me.  Many years ago, when I was living in the South Suburbs, we were listening to Dick Biondi, whom I had listened to back in the 60′s, doing a live show from a car dealership.  He was still on the air after all these years, playing “golden oldies.”  We got to meet him and he even let my daughter and me announce a song on the air.  She got an autographed picture.

To complete this part of my bucket list, I needed to meet Herb Kent.

The roast was a great, nostalgic, fun time.  Attendees got a copy of his book.  I got mine autographed and had a photo taken.  One suprise of the evening, was when this young man from London joined Illinois State Governor Pat Quinn, Fox TV’s Robin Robinson, WYCC’s Deborah Crable and other celebs on stage as “Herbie Baby” was inducted into the Guiness Book or World Records as the oldest living, working dj in the world.

Wow.

And he is still broadcasting on V-103.  I understand that Dick Biondi is also still broadcasting.

Is that cool, or what?

A young girl was found murdered last week.  She had been reported missing days earlier and her family and many civic leaders are upset with police and the media because when she was reported missing, it was not handled properly.  No pictures on TV and apparently no Amber Alerts.  The suggestion is that, because she was Black, she was not given the same coverage.  Possibly.

Me?  I would rather have a chance to get my hands on the #$@!#%$ that killed her.  Kudos to Congressman Bobby Rush offering a reward for finding this person.

Six months ago, a young man tried to rob a convenience store in New York state.  The store owner got the drop on him and he found himself staring down the barrel of a rifle.  The robber to be got on his knees and begged forgiveness, saying that he desperately needed food for his family.  The owner gave him some food and $40 and sent him on his way.

Last week, the store owner received a letter.  It was from the young man.  He thanked him for his generousity and explained that things were going much better for him now.  Also in the envelope was a $50 bill.

So not all of the news in the world is bad.

I remember, as a kid, being as superstitious as everyone else.  I would avoid black cats, not walk under ladders and other crazy irrational things.  Never noticed whether I had better luck when I kept away from these things or not.  Just seemed to make sense to cover all bases–why take the chance?

I wasn’t the only one.  There seemed to be an official acceptance of superstition.  Many tall buildings did not have a 13th floor.  No one wanted an office or apartment numbered 13 anything.  Then there was Apollo 13.  Launched on the 13 minute of the 13th hour.  Whoa.

I almost believed in astrology for a short period of time, back in the 60′s and 70′s.  I recall where this one young lady, whom I liked a lot, correctly told me my astrological sign, based on her observations of me.  I have to admit, that impressed me more than a little.

Then, logic clicked in.  If you read my entries of a couple of months ago, you already know that my best friend was born the same day same year, and although we are similar in some ways, we’re also very different.  I have also always been a student of astronomy (yes, astronomy), and astrophysics.  I don’t claim to have any great understanding, but I just could not see how the placement of the planets on the moment of my birth could have a significant effect on my personality or the future events in my life.

As far as bad things happening on the 13th or whatever, well stuff happens when it happens.  If we think that Friday the 13th is bad news, we may, without realizing it, cause bad things to happen.  Our worries may get in the way of concentration or judgment.  The possibilities are endless.

Then, as my Christian faith and beliefs grew, the whole superstition thing; good luck, bad luck, just did not make any sense.    To quote Albert Einstein, “God does not play dice with the Universe.”

So, eventually, I found myself seeking out black cats, walking under ladders on purpose, “splitting” light poles and stepping on cracks in the side walk.  And I assure you, my mother’s back is fine.

It’s all a matter of perception.  Believe it or not, many good things happen on Friday the 13th.  Children are born, couples get married, fortunes are made.  It is a documented fact that the performance of the Stock Market is no different on Friday the 13th than any other day.

So, next Friday the 13th, don’t be  paraskavedekatriaphobic. Who knows?  It might just be your lucky day.