Did I tell you about the time my father roller skated?

He was the least athletic man I knew. I threw better than he did at six years old. He came home with baseball gloves for him and me, kind of a toy one for my hand, but it wasn’t long before we switched and I had the adult glove and I was pitching into one of these devices that had a net and a rubber band and shot the ball back at you. This was about the same time they had automatic putting machines. You putted into a device akin to a dustpan and then it pushed the golf ball back to you. That was the technological revolution of the sixties. We listened to our records on vinyl and the breakthrough was transistors and the thought that we could take all of our music with us…was not even on our minds.

And we never roller skated growing up. Maybe because it wasn’t flat where we lived. Hilly compared to the traditional suburb, but not mountainous. And the roads were made from this newfangled concoction akin to the new math, something they used for about a decade and then abandoned, a combination of rocks, oil and sand that was mucky and sticky for days and then the top layer of rocks was pushed to the sides and the uneven surface was supposedly better for traction but it was hell for roller skates, never mind the skateboards that were fashionable for about a year around 1965.

And mostly we were ice skaters. Back when the lakes used to freeze over. Although I do remember going to a semi-outdoor rink, actually a rink with a roof, in Westport on the Post Road where they played records when you went in a circle, I distinctly remember hearing “96 Tears,” but mostly we went on the lake and the pond and we listened to the news to see if the ice was safe and it was often questionable/borderline and on the lake it was bumpy and on the ponds you could see the cracks and we were always worried about falling through but we ice skated, we never roller skated.

But we had those adjustable skates in the house, you know, the ones with heels and toes that you put over your shoes. I never remember using them, but I remember playing with them inside, I was fascinated by their adjustability, and the key. And I hated that Melanie song when it finally hit but by that time I was in college and roller skating was the furthest thing from my mind.

But they had an annual roller skating party at the Jewish Community Center, aka the JCC. In 1962 they built a new one, and a couple of years back, they tore down that one and replaced it with an old folks home and live long enough you realize nothing is forever, especially you.

But in the old JCC…the one in downtown Bridgeport, the one where we went to play basketball on Saturday night, once a year there was a roller skating party. Some company brought in skates and I wouldn’t participate, because my foot was small and I’d have to wear white skates. I know, I know, sounds ridiculous now, but when you’re that little these things are important, you want to be seen as a MAN! I’d sit and sulk on the sidelines, although the last year I eventually donned the white skates halfway through and had a good time but I was so busy trying not to fall that I don’t remember much else.

And then when the JCC moved uptown, into the new building, there were no more skating parties, we had to save the floor of the gym. Progress always comes with a cost, no one ever worried about the gym floor in the old building.

And by time the nineties rolled around I went to visit my younger sister in Minneapolis, the home of RollerBlades, and I tried them out. They were actually easier, with only one row of wheels, but in the seventies, there was a roller skating revival, it even made it into movies, and the epicenter was Venice Beach, but I never partook. I’d ride my bike down to the boardwalk and see the skaters in action, but it was not a casual endeavor but more of a cult, and I’m not a joiner by nature, I’m not beaming as a member of a group.

And like I told you, my dad was unathletic.

He told us he was on the high school tennis team, that he’d even won a letter, but when the tennis boom hit in the seventies and we got on the court and he was so terrible he finally admitted he was the manager, that’s how he’d gotten his letter.

But he could ski, and loved to. He took one lesson and was on the slopes for years. He eventually took a couple of privates at Bromley, but ultimately he forced his way down the mountain, in a modified snowplow/parallel system he was very proud of. But there was that one time in Aspen…

In case you don’t know, the most serious part is at the bottom of the hill, and my dad came over a ridge and lost control and wiped out an entire snow fence, put up for the annual race, and a course worker snidely yelled YOU JUST FINISHED THE ROCH CUP! My father thought this was hysterical and brought it up on a regular basis, he could laugh at himself. Funny, I just realized that. He took so much so seriously, but he had a wild sense of humor, he was constantly cracking jokes.

And then my older sister went to graduate school in Los Angeles and my family came out to visit and we went to the beach and they were renting skates.

Like I said, I always passed. Furthermore, I was now in my twenties without experience and I knew if you fell on skates, you got hurt, scraped by the concrete. But everybody else wanted to do it…

And at this point they had beige skates, unisex, they worked for everybody.

My father put down his credit card and we all started picking skates. But while I was trying to find the right size, when I’d finally found a pair and was lacing up, I looked up and my dad was skating in circles, he was doing tricks! Everything he’d told us about his youth had come true, he could really roller skate, like he’d been born on wheels, like it was the most natural thing ever. I’m worried I’m gonna fall on my ass and he’s striding down the boardwalk like he’s auditioning for a movie.

I can see my dad, with that shiteating grin on his face, oh, he always swore, the s-word was part of his everyday vocabulary, rolling down the boardwalk without a care in the world, believing the world was his oyster.

And at that moment…

It was.

That’s how we got into this mess. Reagan legitimized greed and for forty years America has been beholden to the almighty dollar. If someone is rich, they’re beyond reproach. They’re job creators, they’re more worldly and more intelligent and if you knew your place you would get on the endless treadmill and start running…

In place.

Because the truth is it’s hard to get ahead in America, especially if you’re not born with a silver spoon in your mouth. And if you’re not, you’re demonized, like Obama, not born in America, “foreign,” “other,” divisiveness rules and there’s no cohesion, you cannot get your message heard.

And its only getting worse.

Twenty minutes ago I tuned into late night TV. I never do that anymore, it used to be a ritual, but it’s passe. Jimmy Kimmel has given up jokes and gone for the jokesters themselves, the right wing, especially Trump. Stephen Colbert goes for the same jugular.

But it’s an echo chamber.

Because those whose minds they want to change are not listening.

And the truth is the most important powers in America are the media owners. Which is why the right wing attacked them so heavily, to the point too many people no longer trust what they see or read. The end result is we all have our own facts, our own stories, and the nation is ruled by the rich elite.

Until now.

We thought social media was gonna save us. But the problem is, the men running those companies grew up post-Reagan themselves, believing if they deliver for Wall Street, they’ve delivered for the country. And the fascinating thing about social media is there’s no there there, nothing without the public’s participation. They’re not making anything, they’re just selling ads to our eyeballs which cannot stop paying attention to the train-wreck. But being beholden to the dollar none of these outlets can do the right thing, they’re categorically against it. Zuck pays fealty to his stock price, believe nothing the man says if it will drive his numbers down. And Snapchat is about entertainment, not news. And Twitter is the land of fake accounts arguing over what the facts are.

And I’m stuck in the middle with you.

Now when the wool was pulled over our eyes, most especially during the Clinton years, when finances were good, when they stole the safety net, we just stopped paying attention and bought our cars and drank our beer and lived our lives. But then, life got hard. Bush II gave more money to the rich, broke the nation’s finances, got us into a war benefiting his and his party’s donors and then crashed the economy.

But it was the Democrats’ fault, it’s always the Democrats’ fault.

You see this has got nothing to do with right or left, right or wrong, either party, but muddying the water so you’ll give up and feel powerless, stop paying attention, like in some third world country, so they can rape and pillage to their content. Can you say “Koch”?

Don’t say “Soros,” it’s a false equivalency.

And if you’re arguing with me you’re completely missing the point. I’m like Jimmy, I’m like Stephen, I’m preaching to my choir, of which you are not a member. And now we have stopped paying attention to you, we know you’re not going to change your view, just go back to the rodeo you came from where immigrants and taxes are bad and people of color are the problem. Our only hope is to get out the vote and get rid of gerrymandering and then…

Kids flipped the script.

You see money is no match for the truth.

We pushed our nation’s values to the limit. Congresspeople, most of whom their constituents could not name, were beholden to the money, not the voters, and now the light is being shone upon them and they’re flummoxed, crippled. “I can’t vote that way because of the NRA.” Huh? So you’re beholden to gun manufacturers?

And this is not about guns, this is about the American way of life. We’re so convinced America is so peachy, the best country in the world, that we believe unrest can’t happen here, that it’s just a few bad apples. But just like school shootings, the protests, the upheavals, are coming fast and furiously. Right after #MeToo we’ve got anti-gun protestors. Do you think this is a coincidence? After all, we’ve been inundated with the news of so many school shootings, WHY NOW?

We haven’t had this spirit here since 1969, truly.

So what is happening here is the center no longer holds.

If you’re a rightie, if you watch Fox News, you’ve got no idea about the student protests, unless you read in social media that they were fake, imported agitators. But that kid said if he was an actor, you should have seen him in the school’s rendition of “Fiddler On The Roof,” he was AWFUL! And less wooden and more honest than anybody in D.C. Hell, it’s a thrill to listen to these kids elucidate, gives us faith in the educational system, especially one that’s not faith-based and done in the home.

That’s right, those people want to divide us.

But suddenly we’re becoming united.

So what happens next?

Damned if I know, but it’s no longer business as usual.

Sure, people were dumb and voted against their interests and elected Donald Trump.

Then again, so many were sick of business as usual, and couldn’t vote for Hillary.

And you and me just picked the most expeditious choice, but it turns out expediency no longer applies.

Meanwhile, we’ve got a President who keeps looking backward and a Congress that’s paralyzed.

And suddenly the jig is up.

That’s people power.

We learned that online, if the product is not great it fails, we can research instantly. Which is why the right wants to get rid of net neutrality, don’t forget, they’re not our public airwaves, they’re THEIRS, the people who paid for them, via lobbyists and auctions and…

Maybe there’s just unrest. Maybe authoritarianism results. Maybe there becomes one place online we all go to to find out what’s going on.

The rich don’t want this, they like us confused. But we’re wired, we’re connected, they have no idea of our power.

That’s right, you have power.

And the first thing you have to do is educate yourself, so you can talk authoritatively. Forget emotion, focus on facts, without them you’re going to have a hard time succeeding in the future.

And the fact finders adhere to a past paradigm, not taking a stance, that’s what’s wrong with the so-called “mainstream media.” But facts without interpretation are worthless.

Sling your arrows, attack me, but you’re missing the point. I’m just the messenger. But there’s something happening here, and what it is ain’t exactly clear.

For what it’s worth.

The expectations don’t square with reality.

Bode Miller is forever tarnished by his failure to win medals in Torino, even though his trove of Olympic trophies is positively staggering. He didn’t measure up to the hype. Can anybody measure up to the hype?

In business.

But rarely in art.

And almost never in certain sports. Like skiing.

I find it fascinating the amount of buzz skiing has gotten in these Olympics. The media is overloaded with stories on Mikaela Shiffrin and Lindsey Vonn, two American heroes who are deserving of the attention but…

Then there are the snowboarders, the halfpipe and slopestyle tricksters. Don’t confuse them with the downhill skiers, they’re more gymnast than slider. Furthermore, despite all the attention, snowboarding is fading. Statistics tell us that the children of Gen X’ers, who drove snowboarding, are reacting and wanna ski. Furthermore, snowboarding is such a huge pain in the ass. Strapping in and out, sitting in the snow, trying to make it across traverses. Burton came out with a new step-in binding, but so far it has not gained traction. And yes, this is a religious war, with skiing on the upswing, but the truth is snow sports are dying. Well, at least flat. They’re too expensive, too mature, and the snow itself is in short supply.

But in the sixties it was different. Skiing was the skateboarding of its day. There were hills everywhere, middle class denizens participated. But then with the installation of high speed lifts ticket prices rose and with the concomitant gap between rich and poor those less fortunate stopped skiing. And snowboarding. To the detriment of the industry. Resorts closed. Airlines started charging for baggage, and now skiing is for the one percent.

Except during the Olympics.

Now you’ve got understand, in Europe, not only Austria and Switzerland, but Norway, Germany, Italy and France too, skiing is nearly as big as football. You can make a killing, what with victory schedules and endorsements. Bode Miller is a household name over there, a legend, not a creep. And Mikaela and Lindsey are superstars.

But over here…

We only focus once every four years. And expect these athletes to deliver.

But that’s a misunderstanding of the landscape.

The downhill track was too easy. The wind was a factor. All the elements of skiing the average person has no awareness of came into play, and changed the results.

Did you see the article in today’s “New York Times” how Mikaela travels with 70 pairs of skis! Actually, she only took 35 to the Olympics, along with her full time tuner, that’s what it takes to win. Hell, Bode was calling the giant slalom and he remarked how one racer was doing so well because he was the only one on Volkls…it’s a technical game.

Then again, the “Wall Street Journal” wrote how those with knee injuries, those who’ve blown their ACLs, actually perform better! And they’ve all been injured, and they’re all a little scared, and no one wins every time.

Except Shiffrin and Hirscher in the slalom.

Well, not exactly, but most of the time. They’re automatons.

But Shiffrin didn’t. Was it the skis? Was it staying up late after winning the GS? Wasn’t she supposed to take home five golds?

As for Hirscher, he already won two. And now he was skiing in his favorite event, where he excels, the aforementioned slalom, and he hadn’t skied out in TWO YEARS!

Now you’ve got to know, the sport has changed. With breakaway gates and shaped skis. Credit Bode for that, he was the first to use the new equipment twenty years ago and went from zero to hero overnight. The spoils go to those willing to take the risks.

And now the risk of skiing out in the slalom is less.

And as the commentators are remarking on how Hirscher always finishes, you could see…

He was late.

You see no skier is perfect. The old adage is, “If you don’t fall, you don’t ski.” It’s kinda like golf, nobody gets it right every time. But there are so many more variables, and there’s so much more danger.

So Hirscher has his skis in the air, he’s throwing them sideways to try and make the next gate. And then he recovers. And then he loses it again. Funny how one little mistake trends through to the end, you rarely settle down completely, is it psychological or..?

And he’s got to hit it to win, go straight at the gates to compete, but that increases the danger. And then…

It’s over, he can’t make the next gate, HE’S OUT!

He screwed with the narrative. He slid down the hill, took off his boards and marched off in a huff. So would you, with all the pressure, all the glory almost in reach, and you blew it.

But that’s what life is about. Blowing it. You lose more than you win. Especially if you try new things, especially if you put yourself at risk. This is a sport determined by fractions of a second. Someone losing by two seconds is an also-ran, a competitor with no chance. You’ve got to lay it all on the line and when everybody is watching…

There’s tons of pressure.

But there are so many who don’t understand.

Lindsey Vonn doesn’t get her gold. Sure, she unfortunately ran first in the Super G, a race with no training run, she was the guinea pig, there was one truly difficult gate. But in the downhill…

Was it her skis? Her line? Was Goggia just that much better?

Someone knows.

But maybe no one. Bode, who is a spectacular commentator, doesn’t always get it right, just like in his own ski career. He’d flail and win. He’s saying someone is slow and then they turn out fast, you can never tell, kinda like Ledecka, the Czech snowboarder who won the women’s Super G, SHE was stunned by her victory.

But Hirscher’s moment of potential glory is gone. He won two golds, but not a third, he’s a success, but not a legend. It happened just that fast.

And he reminded us that not only is he human, but so are we.

And that ultimately we answer to ourselves.

And when the looky-loos, the once every four year people, are gone, those on the inside will know…

You’re still that great, you’re still that good.

But not every day.

Nothing is guaranteed.

And that’s why life is worth living.

“Why Mikaela Shiffrin Brought 35 Pairs of Skis to the Olympics”

“Why Lindsey Vonn’s Bad Knee Could Be a Good Thing – One Surgeon calls it the ski-racing paradox: how elite skiers who have torn a knee ligament come out faster and race longer than those who haven’t”

Angela – Spotify

Angela – YouTube

The Lumineers were supposed to be a one hit wonder.

I was in a race to make it to the dentist’s office in Beverly Hills. I was running late and the construction on Olympic was gonna make me later, always trust the map app, ALWAYS, as long as it’s not Apple’s, which told me it was gonna take 19 minutes when Google said 26 and was right, but…

Howard is on vacation. In a world with no center we all look to something to cling to. And for millions it’s Howard Stern, we feel we’re part of a community, we know all the players. But when Howard’s gone…

That’s when I listen to music on the satellite.

And now with Mike Marrone gone from the service I decided to work my way up the dial from the Pulse to the Blend to… And I understood the pop tracks but they did not resonate, I felt I was on a fact-gathering mission, looking at the world through a plate glass window, I could hear the music but I could not feel it.

So I pushed up to the Spectrum and that’s where I heard “Angela.”

I was at the intersection of Santa Monica and Wilshire and a woman in leather pants was crossing the street. Inside I laughed, I wondered who she was trying to impress at two in the afternoon. And then I thought back to the days of yore, before the internet, when you’d drive to the city to feel the pulse, to find out what was going on, to experience life. But that’s all been replaced by the internet. Now we all play in the virtual world, that’s where we make and exhibit our bona fides, even if we inflate them. Strange the march of progress, everyone keeps saying it’s got to be stopped but it’s so much easier to play these days, and that’s a good thing, but the landscape has gotten so much more vast, and there are now zillions of famous people, not only the ones you might stumble upon in BH.

Now, although we are experiencing a return to winter in SoCal, it’s still clear and sunny. And with the a/c on, yes, you still need it when the temp’s in the fifties, your car is a greenhouse, you’re in your own cocoon, listening to the music, and this is when I feel best, alone, yet together.

And the funny thing about the Spectrum is the songs they play are both old and new, sometimes recognizable, sometimes not. And I’m thinking back to the days of when I knew every song on the radio, but no one does anymore, if they tell you they do they’re lying.

And I heard a Kings Of Leon song that stuck in my head. I changed the channel for a minute when a classic rocker came on, and then I heard “Angela.”

It was the vibe, the intimacy, the life. The drum machines, the plastic sound of the Pulse and Blend were gone. It was like stumbling from a skyscraper to a saloon, you could feel the wood, the atmosphere brought you right in. My mood changed, I started to smile, I felt great, I felt like someone got me.

But no one gets this. You won’t see “Angela” in the Spotify Top 50, but all the AAA acolytes will tell me it was a “hit” nearly two years ago. But that’s like saying you’re big in Fresno. How are the rest of us supposed to find this stuff, especially if the act is not interviewed on Stern.

When you left this town, with your windows down

You know that feeling, with the radio cranked, not a care in the world, you’re leaving the troubles behind.

The strangers in this town
They raise you up just to cut you down
Oh Angela, it’s a long time coming

I’ve lived in the country, it’s not for me, it’s one of the things I lament about internet culture, everybody knows your business and is in it, they’ve got an opinion on who you are, you’re labeled, you’ve sacrificed your anonymity. That’s the conundrum, we want to be known and we want to be anonymous. That’s why I live in the city, it’s why I don’t post on social media, I don’t want to hear from every person I ever knew, I don’t want to stalk old girlfriends, it’s hard enough to erase their memory from my brain.

But I’m known by some, who will criticize me and my views. I’m too late to “Angela,” it doesn’t have enough changes, it’s too white. It’s hard to shake off the feedback, to play, but I’m trying to.

And what I’m trying to say is just when I find the music world incomprehensible I stumble upon something like “Angela.” I’d like to tell you I found more just like it on the Spectrum, but that would be untrue. Excellence juts out from the landscape like a phoenix. You know it when you hear it. Art is not quantifiable. It’s not about charts, but a feeling in the individual, it’s about changing people, making them feel understood and part of something bigger, connected to the performer.

I love the reference to the Volvo, I love personalization, the blander the lyrics the less interested I am.

And I wish music like this could be heard by more. It’s certainly so much more meaningful than that which is chasing trends. “Angela” is not breaking ground, but it’s timeless. Like the best music, it references what came before, but it’s totally unique.

Angela, on my knees, I belong, I believe

Actually I’m sitting, here at my MacBook Pro. Long after midnight. When I should be winding down. But listening to “Angela” is the only time I’ve felt great all day. And when I pulled it up on my phone just now I had to tell you.

Home at last.