I’ve just gotten back from my fourth NAMM (National Association of Music Merchants) show in Anaheim, CA. NAMM is a yearly gathering of makers and sellers of instruments, amplification systems, headphones, concert lighting, digital interfaces and many more tools for the musician.
The show is not open to the public. I attend as a volunteer with MusiCares, the health care arm of the Grammy Foundation. In that role, I spend time in the Musicares booth, advising musicians on health issues–from proper lifting techniques and nutrition to recommendations about stools, straps and other ergonomic equipment.
Then, as my rock and roll self, I cruise the Convention Center halls: four floors packed with the latest equipment, from the classics—Gibson, Fender, Taylor, Rhodes—to the small boutique producers. Companies with names like TecAmp, Resonance N’goni, and Hapi Drum, who are creating high quality gear in small workshops around the world. Basses and guitars that you’ll never find at Guitar Center; high end amps and instruments that even I had never seen before.Read the rest of this entry »
In the world of wellness, the New Year is a business opportunity. The health industry can’t help but take advantage of the many people looking for salves, supplements, and “booty busting” exercises to make you, the best new you. And while eating nutritious foods, exercising regularly, and de-cluttering your house are certainly of value, they can also be distractions; one-off actions focused on symptoms rather than deeper forces at play.
Rather than seeing our health concerns accurately–as linked to our own mind/bodies and the world around us–we often tend to look beyond ourselves for explanations and solutions. It is important for us to understand why we see the world in the ways that we do. Otherwise we will seek answers that are of limited scope and value.Read the rest of this entry »
Carlos presented in the clinic, walking stiffly. He wore a green asbestos suit and steel toed boots. The distinctive chemical smell of the steel mill where he worked clung to him like a second skin. Carlos is a welder. He wields a blow torch for most of his day. Large pieces of steel hanging from gigantic chains and pulleys circle above and around him. One by one, he maneuvers them into a position where he can begin the fiery work of melting them down and reshaping them.
There are open fires in the big, hangar-like space where Carlos works. A toxic cloud hangs over the building, penetrating the clothing and skin of all who are exposed. The ground shakes every 15 minutes or so from a machine in the next building as it pounds tons of molten steel into new forms. After awhile, one doesn’t notice these little earthquakes. They just blend in with the sounds of saws, trucks and the loud whistles that signal break time.
The work is tough but lucrative, especially for a recent arrival from Mexico. A union job. Seventeen dollars per hour, English not required. But it takes a toll on the body. One day, after three years on the job, Carlos bent over to pick up his blow torch and felt a sharp lower back pain that radiated into his right buttock. It was enough to stop him from going on. He reported the injury to his supervisor, who filled out a work injury report and sent Carlos to the clinic where I work to be examined and treated. While Carlos was glad to get the medical attention, he was also thinking about missed time from work, lost pay and his family. As there were rumors that another round of layoffs was coming, he was feeling very anxious.Read the rest of this entry »
Mehraban and Sahar were married under redwood trees in the hills overlooking the San Francisco Bay. It was a brisk evening warmed by the presence of their many friends and relatives who had gathered from near and far.
When I walked into the reception hall, the dance floor was already packed. Electronic music was blaring, drinks were flowing and the crowd was joyous, celebrating the union of these two beautiful people.
Children of the Revolution
Although I had never been to an Iranian wedding, I have been to Iran. The first time was in 1975, during the Shah’s rule. I also visited more recently, in 2014, under the current regime: The Islamic Republic.
Many of the men and women dancing at the wedding were “children of the revolution,” born in Iran after the revolution of 1979. Until they left for “The West,” they had only known an Iran of the mullahs, the religious rulers of that country.
And as the electronic dance beats stirred up the crowd, I thought about Iran and how distant that country was from this celebratory moment in space and time. I considered how far we were from that world, where people lived under the ever present gaze of the mullah’s and the Basij (the religious police), where life is circumscribed by so many ancient rules, where women are compelled to wear the hijab (traditional head scarf), and the sexes cannot mix freely. A world where alcohol and dancing are prohibited.Read the rest of this entry »
It seems to be a season of dying. It’s probably my age—almost 60—and the age of many of my friends. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that mortality is in the air.
It’s not that I haven’t experienced death before. My father at 69, my old friend Sigrid at 36, my sister-in-law at 40. Cancer got them all. Now cancer is getting my good friend Marilyn.
Marilyn has late stage ovarian cancer. She just turned 60. She had two rounds of chemotherapy, and the doctors thought they had things at bay. But the cancer came back fiercely. There is no more treatment for her; just digging in at home with the comfort of friends, the right pain meds and medical marijuana. Palliative care. Read the rest of this entry »
Pregnancy can be one of a woman’s most beautiful life experiences; an event many have dreamed of since girlhood. Hormones surge, creating a sense of euphoria (as well as occasional nausea). The awareness slowly arises of a real human being, her child, growing inside of her.Read the rest of this entry »
The objects with which we surround ourselves serve multiple functions. On the one hand they may be utilitarian: dressers, chairs, and desks that support our home and work lives. At the same time, they tell us and others who we are. Does our home or office convey sophistication (elegant furniture), intelligence (books) or artiness (paintings and sculpture)? Are we practical (sparely furnished rooms) or frivolous (surrounded by knick-knacks)?
These objects can also convey status and authority. A king’s throne, for example, sits squarely in the middle of the reception hall. It is likely the most ornately carved piece of furniture in the room and is placed on a platform, denoting power and proximity to God. Or take in contrast the simple stool, without frills, designating its user as a worker focused on completing a singular task.
Both “chairs” serve a function and tell a story. Like that king and those workers, we create our worlds with purpose.Read the rest of this entry »