Educated: A Memoir

Every family is a cult. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to break out of it.

I grew up fifty miles from New York City. My mother was the life of the party, my father expounded upon truth every day. It wasn’t until I went to college that I discovered they could be wrong.

They were preparing me for the future, when they were no longer around, it didn’t occur to them that there would be a cost to this education.

I’m still paying. I look back at previous relationships and wince. How could I act that way, why did I believe that?

But that’s also about change, growth, things many are afraid of, because it will take them too far from their roots.

We all have a desire to stay in the garden.

Tara Westover was brought up in a survivalist Mormon household in Idaho. Although it seems foreign to you, it’s not that different from what we all experience. A tightly-knit unit which will make you pay if you stray from it. And when you do leave, you’ve got guilt, you’re always going back, expecting it to be different.

You can read this book as a demonization of Mormonism, as a demonization of fanaticism, but when it’s over, you can’t help thinking of yourself, your choices, your struggle, your journey.

“Educated” is a hot book. Google it and you’ll learn all about it.

I knew nothing. My brother-in-law bought it on a communal Kindle account. Felice read it, I was avoiding it, I’m staying away from non-fiction, I find more truth in made-up stories, where no one is pulling any punches, where no one is telling you what to do, how to behave. Kind of like Andrew Martin’s “Early Work,” which is about the struggle to grow up, to leave an initial relationship for something better, whether it ultimately is or is not. Our lives are like “Let’s Make A Deal,” how much risk do you want to take? You could fail, but you cannot get ahead without jumping into the fire, the unknown.

Tara Westover was home-schooled, without much book learning. I’m against home schooling because it removes children from the environment, the same way I’m against parents interfering in the social life of their children, re bullying, etc. Now I’ve crossed a line, I know, but my mother insisted I fight my own battles, stand up to those attacking me, it was scary, but she was right, because that’s how life is, the decisions come down to you, how are you going to make them?

And Tara Westover decided she wanted to go to college.

Good luck.

She had to study, be tutored for the ACT, and when she got to BYU…

She had no idea what they were talking about, she’d never heard of the Holocaust, although her father said the Jews were evil and brought the consequences upon themselves.

That’s right, all parents tell stories. Friends too. It’s how you sift through them that determines whether you learn and go forward. Most people don’t. They don’t get the opportunity, or squander it. Tara Westover fought for the opportunity.

She couldn’t take a grant from the government because the government was evil.

She couldn’t go to a doctor because aspirin would poison you.

If there was an injury, and there were many severe ones in the Westover family, you prayed to God and consumed and soothed yourself with oils. It was all about belief.

Can you challenge your beliefs?

It’s much harder than you think, change is nearly impossible.

It happened to me in psychotherapy, I learned how to stand up to the family system. But you find even though you’ve been through battle and believe you’ve won the war it’s like Afghanistan, it’s never-ending. Furthermore, there are good elements of the family, its members know you, but at what cost?

At first I was turned off by the style of “Educated,” it was a bit too flowery, there was too much description, when done right a writer should not be thinking of the audience, its judgment of him or her. But then the writing becomes more sparse and the story starts to twist and…

It doesn’t matter if Tara gets everything right. She is the brother and sister who has been wronged, who has her own personal vision of what went on. You either respect it or…

You’ve got to listen to people. Correct them at your peril. When their facts are wrong, let them know, but never mess with their emotions, those are real and oftentimes more important.

Who was there for Tara Westover?

Ultimately nobody but herself.

But she didn’t want it to be this way, she wanted the family support.

But for that you pay a price.

“that never again would I allow myself to be made a foot soldier in a conflict I did not understand.”

Like all those kids for Trump, really?

“Curiosity is a luxury reserved for the financially secure: my mind was absorbed with more immediate concerns, such as the exact balance of my bank account, who I owed how much, and whether there was anything in my room I could sell for ten or twenty dollars.”

Twenty dollars, that’s more than I had in my bank account, never mind the bad checks I’d written for rent. My parents would not send me money, I was in hock to the banks… You can never understand being broke until you are. If you’re expecting people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, you’ve got to realize they’ve got to have the mental space to be able to do this.

“I began to experience the most powerful advantage of money: the ability to think of things besides money.”

Ditto.

“What is a person to do, I asked, when their obligations to their family conflict with other obligations – to friends, society, to themselves?”

Ultimately this is the question, whose answer only you get to decide. You’re a part of the universe, your actions have consequences, be narcissistic at your peril, and learn to sift through and evaluate truth, it’s the only thing that’ll save you, allow you to emerge whole on the playing field of life.

Keep on-a rock’n me, baby

It was not nostalgia, at least not until Miller’s encore, when he reeled off a bunch of hits.

The guitar era is in the past. The blues era is in the past.

But it came alive last night.

What on the surface seemed a return to what once was, set in amber in the seventies, turned out to be a completely different experience.

Frampton came out in a t-shirt. More akin to the Allman Brothers than the acts prancing the boards today, from an era where you spoke with your musicianship as opposed to the trappings, your clothing, your production, the effects on hard drive. Somehow Peter has found a way to escape from the prison of his hits. After doing the entire album on the 35th anniversary of “Frampton Comes Alive” you’d wonder where he could go. FORWARD! And what does that look like? A hell of a lot of guitar playing.

The show started with “Somethin’s Happening,” which of course opened the double live album, but I think of it more as track 6 on the album of the same name, when it was then called “Baby (Somethin’s Happening).” This was his dark period. After a stellar solo debut, after “Frampton’s Camel,” somehow Frampton’s career lost momentum, even though the LP contained this cut, along with “Doobie Wah” and one of my favorite Frampton cuts ever, “I Wanna Go To The Sun,” which has more soul than most of the records cut by African-Americans today, at least the hip-hop tracks on the hit parade, it’s all about feel, locking into a groove and maintaining it, letting go, setting the listener’s mind free.

And then came 1975’s breakthrough “Frampton,” which had little commercial impact, but was the blueprint for what came after, i.e. the live album.

And, of course, Peter played “Show Me The Way” and “Baby, I Love Your Way,” but the centerpiece of the show was a seemingly fifteen minute version of “(I’ll Give You) Money” wherein he traded licks with his second guitarist, Adam Lester. Remember when we were intrigued by the band, the backup musicians, who floated from act to act? Watching you wondered what the backstory was of all the players, performing without a net.

And Peter shouldn’t have been doing this. You’re supposed to give the audience what it wants, the hits and nothing but. Concise and note for note.

But this show broke tradition, first and foremost for an L.A. audience it was surprisingly alive, it seemed to have gotten the memo, it stood in applause for the expertise displayed on stage, there was none of the younger generation players keep talking about in hype for their shows, these were people who remembered what once was, and were eager to have their minds and bodies set free on this hot summer night.

Frampton came out loud and brash, as if he were back in Humble Pie as opposed to the pretty boy of a zillion teenage dreams.

It was like the Fillmore. There were two acts. It was a night of music. Not a night out on the town where the audience is more important than the musicians, where it’s all about alcohol and selfies.

And then came Steve Miller.

No one likes Steve Miller other than his fans. Insiders bitch, his brother complains. But it was Miller who revealed the manipulation of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame when no one else inducted would stand up, I thought musicians were supposed to be free-thinkers.

Miller started off with the David Denny composition “The Stake,” a rip-off of “Rocky Mountain Way” that appeared on “Book Of Dreams.” But there was that groove, that soul that Frampton locks into, an an amazing amount of flashy guitar picking.

Having done his anniversary tour for “The Joker,” Miller too seems set free. It’s like he wants to go back to the era before the hits, when it was about the blues, when it was completely different today.

This wasn’t a show about singing, it was about playing. And boy could Steve Miller play!

Having just seen Jeff Beck a few weeks back it was hard not to compare, but then I realized that all these players had their own style, the highlight of Miller’s set was when he brought out Frampton to duet on a couple of blues numbers, “Same Old Blues” and “Stranger Blues.” This wasn’t on the record, this wasn’t part of expectations. But what these two performers did was EXCEED THEM!

Remember when going to the show was about music, when it was an aural trip, when the band took the fans on a journey?

That’s what it was like.

And despite being 74, soon to be 75, Miller can wail as well as ever, picking on an endless series of Fenders.

But he can no longer sing. He kinda talks the songs, it sounds like him, the keyboard player often doubles him. It’s disappointing, it’d be a buzzkill if he couldn’t still play so well. And then I realized, it was fading in front of our very eyes. For every Frampton who may not have his hair but has his talent intact, others are losing it. It’s not like being an attorney or an accountant, it’s more like being an athlete, you want to say you saw Michael Jordan or LeBron in their heyday.

Steve Miller is no longer in his vocal heyday, but he’s still worth the price of admission.

And I’m standing there thinking it’s time for Eric Clapton to have his guitar world series once again. When he did it in the past, the guitar was still prominent, now it’s faded, people need to be reminded.

This music is timeless, because it comes from the blues, and the blues are coming back, that’s what Greta Van Fleet is all about, that’s what’s wrong with too much of today’s “rock” music, the blues are not in evidence.

And Steve Miller gave a history lesson during his performance. He talked about T-Bone Walker, pointed out his daughter in the audience before he whipped into “Stormy Monday.” And he even played the obscure “Jackson-Kent Blues” from “Number 5.” The hits bookended the set, but in between were the true nuggets.

And you know that it’s true
That all the things I do
Are gonna come back to you in your sweet time

I won’t go anymore. I saw these acts in their heyday, on the comeback tour, why do I need to go again so they can pay for their vacation house and I can relive what once was?

But, actually I did experience what once was at the Greek last night.

An era where the hits were only a framework upon which you hung your improvisation. When music was the highest art form. When you never knew what the night would bring you. When you went to have a tale to tell. When you could feel the electricity of the act channeled into your brain and body.

You may think you’ve seen these guys before.

But you haven’t.

It’s different, they’ve been set free, they’re at the age when they know their legacies are set in stone and they don’t matter anyway. From when musicians were not stars but players, when they followed the music not the financial prospects in the penumbra, hell, Frampton knows that “Sgt. Pepper” movie was a mistake that he’s not only atoned for, but moved far beyond.

You’d think at this late date when there’s nothing worth paying attention to in rock, when the art form has calcified, a show by two old-timers wouldn’t be worth the price of admission. But that would be untrue, they took us back to the garden by going back to the basics, what inspired them, what set them on this journey to begin with.

That big ‘ol jet airliner carried us far away last night.

I wish you’d been aboard.

The STEM era is over.

For twenty years we’ve experienced the denigration of the liberal arts. For twenty years we’ve been ruled by tech. For twenty years it’s been about entrepreneurship.

Now it’s about thinking. About concepts. About ideas. Not changing the world with products, but analysis and influence.

You can’t compete with the billionaires, the opportunities are too few, and if you gain any traction they’ll squash you or acquire you. As for going to Silicon Valley to strike gold, you can’t even afford an apartment, you’re better off staying home and posting on the internet.

That’s right, we live in a world of art. Of photos. Of essays. Of words. They drive our culture, but the observers and prognosticators can only see the hate, the tumult, the cacophony, they don’t realize underneath it all is power.

Like Breitbart. Or InfoWars. Credit their creators with understanding the new game. They’ve brought Facebook to its knees. They’ve flummoxed Twitter. That’s the power of words.

The left wing reacts, the right wing pushes forward. The left wing thinks MSNBC can conquer Fox, when the truth is the next battle will be fought online. Not with fake news so much as the appeal to millennials.

Most of whom are just trying to get along.

Yes, it’s a different world from that of their parents, the baby boomers who got to protest and play simultaneously, who didn’t have to worry about careers for years, who didn’t have to get serious about money until the eighties. Today’s college graduates are so worried about falling behind that they buy insurance, they go to work for the bank, for the consulting firm, not aware that they’re instantly neutering themselves. Money is so last century. Sure, money has influence, but not as much as people.

I know, I know, this is heretical, but this is true.

The last twenty years were about tech. But when is the last time you were excited about a new app, even a new hardware product? It’s all about refinement these days.

Before that it was music. Music does not drive the culture today because the makers don’t understand its power. You’re supposed to be a reaction to what is, not glom on to it. You’re supposed to give the middle finger to the man, not be co-opted by him. You’re supposed to challenge the listener, not comfort him or her.

And now it’s all about politics. All Trump, all the time.

But it’s also about Bernie, it’s also about Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

And that’s where ideas come in.

An individual can topple the enterprise, assuming he or she stands up to it.

So now is the time to study art, to read books, to learn how to write, how to shoot photographs, how to tell a story. It’s how Netflix won and the established players are scrambling. Fox sold to Disney which is years behind Netflix and HBO sold to AT&T and you cannot win in the future from inside the old enterprise, revolution is key, a blank slate is key.

Music will be healthy again when acts stop chasing trends. It doesn’t matter whether it’s acoustic instruments or iPads, it’s about confronting people with the unexpected and having them make a choice. Kraftwerk sounded like nothing on the radio, but it spurred a whole genre of music. Same deal with the original rap songs, “The Message” inspired a zillion other acts.

History repeats, but never in the same way. So maybe it doesn’t happen on the radio, maybe it doesn’t involve the major label. Reinvention and exploration are always anathema to the established player.

So turn off “Shark Tank.” Stop listening to “How I Built This.” Start reading, learn how to think, know that inspiration comes when you least expect it and when you act on it you can change the world.

Assuming you’re willing to walk into the wilderness to begin with.

Most people aren’t, they want a safety net.

But there’s no VC for ideas.

You can change the world.

If only you look inside, not outside, realize you need no help other than yourself. If you study the great thinkers and writers of the past. If you know you need nothing other than a keyboard and a connection to the internet.

Westfield Century City

It’s theatre.

The mall is dying, that’s what we read.

But in truth, the mall resembles everything else in modern America, there are winners and losers and you get to pick which side you’re gonna be on, it takes a ton of hard work, reinvestment, most people don’t want to make the effort, but if you do…

You know the mall, that’s where the chain stores live.

But not in Century City.

Owned by Westfield. Which was controlled by Australians who recently blew the whole chain out. Kinda like CBS and Viacom. The story isn’t Les Moonves’s transgressions, but Shari Redstone’s desire to merge the two companies and sell the thing, like Rupert Murdoch did with Fox. You see when an industry becomes mature, when it becomes challenged, the behemoths are victorious and the small fry are squeezed out. Kinda like concert promotion, it’s Live Nation and AEG, and then a bunch of also-rans.

The Westfield Century City is a winner.

Now it used to be about the Westfield Westside Pavilion, down the street, barely thirty years old, it’s toast, the retailers exited, the food court became a ghost town and now they’re turning it into offices, kinda like the Sherman Oaks Galleria, which Moon Zappa made famous in “Valley Girl,” it too is now mainly offices.

Only the strongest survive. The rich get richer. Can you say UNIVERSAL MUSIC?

They only redid the Century City mall a few years back. But today, like in tech, he not busy being born is busy dying, you can never rest on your laurels, you’ve constantly got to repair and recreate, kinda like painting the Golden Gate Bridge, you finish one end and you go back to the beginning and start all over again.

But no one goes to the mall anymore, it’s dying.

THAT’S RIGHT!

But there is room for one mall in every metropolis.

Call it theatre.

Call it showrooming.

When I got a Rolex back in ’77 the company didn’t even have an L.A. repair shop, never mind a retail space, but they’ve got a store in the Century City mall. As does Breitling. And Amazon. And Tesla.

I’m wondering whether I need a new Kindle, but I went in the store today and found out I did not.

As for the Tesla, this is the way you should buy a car. I’m afraid to walk on a car lot, I don’t want to be preyed upon by the salespeople, desiring to be my best friend, I’m just looking. And when you look at the mall, there’s no pressure, and you want one. They said I could get a Model 3 in 2-4 months for $49,9 plus tax. But the real closer was the car itself, with the glass roof and the iPad control system. It’s an appliance, more sophisticated and less complicated electronically than a Model S, and it’ll blow the doors off of your gas-powered car of choice.

And they had cornhole.

And Eataly.

They made the mall into a destination.

Now I’m not a shopper, I rarely go into a store, not unless I know exactly what I’m looking for and want to buy it. But sometimes you need to browse, for ideas, for information, you need a physical location for that, the Century City mall fits the bill.

So what have we learned here?

The public only has time for the best, and if you’re not it, find another vertical. Don’t try to be LIKE Drake, BE Drake!

And our country has gone upscale, we’re all aspirational. Everybody wants gourmet food and brand name items. Sure, there’s a market at the bottom, but that’s a race to the bottom, that’s why Wal-Mart is challenged, they cannot grow because too many people want what they’re not selling, no one brags they shop at Wal-Mart unless they’re a Walton.

And experiences are everything. Which is why you must design your website for usability more than look and people still want to touch stuff.

But not a whole hell of a lot of stuff.

The mall is no longer where kids go to hang out, it’s not where seniors go for coffee and a walk. It’s akin to Broadway.

Westfield realized this.

You need to go.