Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Lumineers Confront Cycle of Addiction in New Album

The Lumineers do not have a history of shying away from personal topics, as they have often embedded a mixed sense of both confronting life's struggles - from the mundane to wholly existential - with wanderlust within the lyrics of their most popular songs such as Cleopatra, Angela, Stubborn Love, Nobody Knows, and so on. 

That does not mean their latest album III (so named for their third album release) is not a lucid gut check from the reality so many Americans presently face. 

Tackling issues such as abandonment, alcoholism, gambling, mental health, and abuse, III chronicles the generational cycle of addiction from the perspective of three figures within the fictional Sparks family.

Presented as part of a unique three-chapter concept, the indie folk band from Denver delves into the cycle of addiction from the lens of an alcoholic matriarch to her gambling obsessed son and grandson who suffers it all. There are no heroes nor foes in III, only humans confronting the worst aspects of a life in anguished turmoil.

This is not to say III is either lacking the Lumineers trademark moments of acoustic accomplishment nor the joy their lyrics can summon (although the dark nature of the album is its central theme, bright moments are present in Life in the City, Gloria, Left for Denver, and the bonus track of Democracy), but they work in concert towards a greater tale. 

It is not only a testament to the Lumineers ability to genuinely tell a heart wrenching story, but it is reflective of the issues facing the generation of Millennials who make up the majority of their audience. 

Rarely does music leave me equally impressed yet stunned by its composition, but the Lumineers managed to do so over the course of all ten songs contained within the album's primary storyline. It is as if the origins of  their debut album The Lumineers and the wanderlust storytelling of Cleopatra had a child, and its name was America. 

I am very biased as an avid fan of the Lumineers music, but I would wholly recommend a listen or two to their new album III with close attention being paid to detail.

Wednesday, February 13, 2019

2020 Vision: Tulsi Gabbard


Author's note: This is part of a new series on Democratic candidates who have announced their candidacy for President. 

Tulsi Gabbard is an interesting candidate for higher office: she's relatively young being only in her late-thirties (she was first elected to the Hawaii House of Representatives in her early twenties), was originally born in the territory of American Samoa, and she is a Major in the Hawaii Army National Guard who previously served in the Iraq War. 

She also has a history of making brash decisions. Previously a Vice Chair of the powerful DNC, she resigned from that position to support U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders candidacy in 2016, while her more infamous moment occurred in 2017 when she met with Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad without telling anyone in House leadership beforehand. 

Formally launching her candidacy for the White House on February 2nd, 2019, Ms. Gabbard immediately ran into Democratic headwinds over her previous opposition to gay marriage and LGBTQ issues as well as her unorthodox foreign policy views. Additionally, as Politico reported before her campaign even formally launched
"Tulsi Gabbard's presidential campaign hasn't officially launched yet but it's already melting down. Two-and-a-half weeks after the Hawaii Democrat told CNN she had decided to run for the White House-an announcement that even her own staff didn't know was coming, after weeks of debating the timing of the rollout- the 37-year-old congresswoman has struggled to contain the chaos."  
My favorite metaphor for Ms. Gabbard's campaign since announcing her candidacy might be this tidbit from a recent Des Moines Register article:
Rep. Tulsi Gabbard's first Iowa visit as a presidential candidate had a slow start: A flight delay in Chicago meant she had to cancel her first event in Des Moines with the Asian and Latino Coalition Saturday night. Her rescheduled event in the capital city just had 13 attendants.
Regardless of the rocky start, however, Ms. Gabbard does stand out as a prominent Democrat who associated herself significantly with the Sanders campaign in 2016, who is publicly opposed to the "Green New Deal" that is all the rage among some precincts on the Democratic side, and who is very vocally opposed to military adventurism abroad.

Although the road to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue might remain best traveled from her congressional office in Washington, D.C. - especially if Mr. Sanders does indeed run for the oval office again - Ms. Gabbard is an interesting candidate to watch with a strong 2020 vision of being her party's nominee against incumbent President Donald J. Trump.

Sunday, November 4, 2018

From Knocking Doors for Romney to Delgado: An Evolution of Party, Not Values

The Schoharie Valley, as seen from Vroman's Nose.
Hailing from the most beautiful part of New York - Middleburgh's serene Schoharie Valley - I reside in a community that is traditionalist and culturally conservative. It is experiencing a crossroads as tradition and progression are butting heads not only culturally, but politically. Two candidates are part of this "butting heads," namely NY-19 congressional Democratic candidate Antonio Delgado's momentum filled candidacy to topple incumbent Republican Congressman John Faso and Greene County Legislator & NY-102 State Assembly Democratic nominee Aidan O'Connor Jr's campaign to topple incumbent Republican State Assemblyman Chris Tague, which somehow has found a former Young Republican President turned Democrat GOTV Canvasser caught in the middle of it all. 

Recently, I was asked to explain by a Republican friend on social media why I am supporting a particular Democratic candidate for New York State Assembly. I thought about it for all but five minutes before explaining:
I'll give you the biggest reason why I am supporting Aidan (Aidan O'Connor Jr., the Democratic challenger): character. Couple of months ago, SCCASA held their annual opioid vigil in the Village of Cobleskill. Tague (Chris Tague, the incumbent Republican Assemblyman) was invited to speak, and that's all he did, speak. Aidan attended the event, staying around after the vigil to help SCCASA's employees and volunteers to clear off tables, pack things up, and he did this all without attempting to gain attention. Simply put: Aidan's intent doesn't change when there are or are not cameras present; his character is unwavering and that character is essential in Aidan's love for home and community. I could give more examples from my man interactions with him, but that occurrence has stood out in my mind prominently.
Delivered with conviction and sincerity, those comments likely would not have been possible six years ago. You see, while I am known for my Conservative Democrat streak with a flourish of Libertarianism now, I was once a fairly Republican youngster who would have never considered voting for a Democrat under any circumstance. Period.

Ironically enough, while I spent part of this weekend door knocking for Democrat Antonio Delgado's campaign in the hotly contested NY-19 congressional election, some of my closest friends and I did the same thing for Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney six years ago in Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

So how does one go from door knocking for Romney in 2012 to Delgado in 2018? Well, it was a gradual evolution, but it mostly stems from a singular event in the Republican Party: the candidacy of Donald Trump.

I'm a conservative-minded guy, but I also believe in protecting people.

I support the right to unionize for all workers (try working at a Wal-Mart or any retail outlet where you have no labor protections), I support campaign finance reform (money has eroded our democracy extensively these past several years), I support universal college education (if you supported education through High School in the past as a means to set young adults up with the best chance to succeed, you have to support it through college now if you still want them to have that same chance), and I support LGBTQ rights (equality and fairness are for all people, it's not just a slogan). Additionally, and generally, I support forward thinking policies and I believe in a sense of decorum, while maintaining that principled compromise is necessary for problem solving.

Donald Trump stood and stands in opposition to all of those sentiments I believe in.

From the moment he announced his candidacy, I wanted nothing to do with a Republican Party that tolerated explicit racism and blatant nationalism. Conversely, I also left the party to support Vermont U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders in the Democratic Primary, because while I agreed with little of Sanders' rhetoric, I absolutely respected the man and thought a vote for the #FeelTheBern was better spent than participating in the farce going on in the GOP.
Supporting the best candidate is not a partisan choice.
Many of my independent minded friends within the GOP have felt the same since Trump's rise and have also left the party for independent or bluer pastures, while I initially tried to stay out of the political fray and to remain focused on my occupation of choice - journalism - but that has proved tough.

This road to knocking doors for Antonio Delgado and working on Aidan's campaign in my native Schoharie County is not one without bends and curves in the road: I am sympathetic to mainstream Libertarian ideals and figures such as Gary Johnson and Larry Sharpe, while I managed an independent's political campaign earlier this year in a special election, and both of the aforementioned took place while I have largely supported every local Democratic candidate the past few years.

Some of my Republican friends have not taken so kindly to my change in tone and posture, accusing me of being liberalized by college (I have an AS and BS in Communications from SUNY Cobleskill, and I am currently studying Political Communication at UAlbany), but my views really have not changed over the course of six years.

I am sure some will take my support for Romney (and my love for the deceased Arizona U.S. Senator John McCain) as proof of my "moderate" or "Republican In Name Only" sentiments that were ripe for party flipping at some point, but I did not become the youngest President (15) of a Young Republican Club in New York (2009) with the intention of becoming a card carrying member of the #BlueWave canvassers within ten years. 

Simply put: something changed and it was not me. 

There are other personal and political considerations that have also prompted this change from me, but I do not really have the time to explain them because there are only so many hours left to knock doors for Antonio Delgado and Aidan O'Connor Jr. before polls open on Tuesday. 

I will let my comments in a recent newspaper article explain my support for Delgado, who has faced a slew of dog whistle themed advertisements since securing the Democratic nomination in June, speak as my final comment:

"I think this race between Congressman Faso and Antonio Delgado is indicative of things that are going on in the country. We have this race where we have a Republican, a Republican I actually voted for in 2016 because he had campaigned about being bipartisan and moderate and kind of following in the footsteps of Congressman Chris Gibson, when in fact he's shown a complete misunderstanding of the issues facing people in this country." 
Knight said he believes that many of the ads being run by supporters of Faso use "dog whistle" language, including by referring to Delgado as a "big city rapper."  
"You look at Mr. Delgado's background, somebody that grew up in Schenectady, someone who has a law degree from Harvard, somebody who is a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford College, but there's this one thing that they would have to try to dog whistle and make him out to be something he's not, and I was completely expecting it, and it has been absolutely abhorrent and disgusting that they would go that route." 
There's a lot of people in my community, and parts of the rural part of the 19th Congressional District that are already primed to be against Delgado because he's a Democrat, and playing the 'us versus them' method is playing to the worst natural inhibitor of people's decisions. So, I think it's effective, but I also think it's just morally bankrupt." Daily Gazette: Voices of the 19th District

Monday, January 15, 2018

Trading McCutchen: Farewell to Franchise Players



News of Andrew McCutchen's trade by the Pittsburgh Pirates to the San Francisco Giants has left Baseball Twitter awash in frustration and hot takes today, mostly from disgruntled Pirates fans who are questioning their franchise's decision to trade away its most recognizable player.

The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reported as much earlier today:
It's tough to quantify how much Andrew McCutchen meant to Pittsburgh, but that hasn't stopped hundreds of Pirates fans from trying anyway... Fans, of course, took to Twitter after news of the trade broke. Many thanked McCutchen for his time in Pittsburgh, and some expressed happiness that their favorite player will now join a team that intends to compete.
McCutchen, for those who may not be aware of the dynamics at play, is beloved by the Steel City faithful for bringing back competitive, meaningful baseball to Pittsburgh after decades of subpar play, and in the stroke of a single trade he is now gone.

As a lifelong baseball fan, McCutchen's trade is part of a longer trend in Major League Baseball that saddens me: making the franchise player obsolete. 

Perhaps I was spoiled by being a Braves fan, but game in and game out, I relished knowing that Chipper Jones would be starting at Third Base, batting in the opening frame of offense, and doing this for as many games as he was uninjured (which was, sadly, always too few). 

Great players came and went throughout the years, including the legendary Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Javy Lopez, John Smoltz, and others, but Chipper always remained the one shining constant that caused me to tune in game after game, season after season. 

The aforementioned is one reason why I will be attending Chipper's Hall-Of-Fame induction this coming summer, but I digress on that tangent.

You see - for as much as I was a Braves fan first and foremost, having a single player's consistent presence that I cherished was as much a motivating factor to remain interested as the team itself - and this is frankly no longer the case, as players disappear nowadays as soon as they arrive. 

Talent is matured in the Minors to largely become bargaining chips for temporary veteran fixes at the trade deadline and rosters are subject to the whims of arbitrary gutting by front offices fixated with either budget margins or sabermatic roster movements. 

This is - mostly - impetulant whining on my behalf at the changes in Major League Baseball I dislike, but I still think my overall concerns are valid: if fans don't have someone to follow and to root for, why cheer for the same franchise of 25 interchangeable players year in and year out?

The Pirates did more than trade away an above average outfielder today; they traded away the face and hope of their fans in an attempt to bring the budget under a certain number. 

McCutchen, for his part, Tweeted out the following message several hours after news of the trade broke: 


There is simply no business decision that will ever justify a fan's heartbreak. 

Author's Note: I know this is not my typical subject matter for this website, but in light of the hub bub created by McCutchen's trade, I figured it might be prudent to weigh-in with some of my long simmering thoughts on this matter. 

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Hillbilly Elegy: Great Memoir, Poor Solutions


Before booking passage for West Virginia earlier this year (as if I was sailing to a different world, please excuse my poor excuse of a literary license), I was loaned a copy of J.D. Vance's Hillbilly Elegy, which is prominently touted as being about the ails of Appalachia. 

However, I have a very complicated relationship with the book. Well, to be honest, I have a very complicated relationship with the book's conclusion, because it fails to answer the omnipresent question that lingers over Vance's entire story: how do we fix Appalachia?

Written essentially as a memoir that follows Vance's life, which concludes with him graduating from Yale University after beginning his journey in a dilapidated Ohio industry town, Hillbilly Elegy painstakingly leads the reader through the author's horrible childhood, his attempts to escape the poverty of his home, and his eventual success by first joining the military and later attending college.

It's a classic tale of the downtrodden man fighting his way toward upward mobility, or as we call it in my country, the "American Dream." Vance's rise from ashes to comfort is inspiring and worth the read.

But...

My issue with the tome, however, stems from how it ends with essentially no prescription, plan, suggestion or recommendation on how to address the economic, cultural, medical, and societal ills that have come to define the poorest region in the United States; a region that Vance does a good job of describing in realistic terms, but which he fails in representing to the outside world as a fixable situation. 

Part of the author's biggest critique of Appalachian culture is its lack of work ethic, which flatly reeks of a Yale University level of pretentiousness if I may say so, because you would think Vance himself would be able to recognize that (a.) Appalachia has fallen into a self-defeatist rut after losing its cultural identity and (b.) escape is often the easy way off of a sinking ship. 

I don't blame Vance for escaping his roots, because he probably never would have written his tome otherwise, but his very escape should speak to the endemic problem of Appalachia, which is to remain is to die. For all intents and purposes, Appalachia is the impoverished white man's version of inner city ghettos, only there's shacks instead of tenements and mountains instead of skyscrapers.

Quite frankly, in order for a culture to possess work ethic and grit, it must have a reason to do so. Poor, uninspired Appalachian communities are not going to find a sense of work ethic overnight when the coal mines have been closed for decades, their culture has become alienated from the rest of society, and its number one media commentator is only capable of being in the position he is in because he fled.   

This may just be a personal complaint I possess against the author, however, because I live in one of the poorest counties in New York: Schoharie County, which ironically serves as the northeastern boundary of Appalachia according to the Appalachian Regional Commission, and it too is suffering culturally and economically and the response of most young adults is to leave home as rapidly as possible. 

I didn't do that, though. All of my brothers pushed me from a very early age to leave home, but I stayed because I loved my community, I loved my friends and family, and I believed that the only way to be part of the solution was to lead by example and to get my hands dirty in building a better place for everyone to call home. 

Whatever the case may be, Appalachia deserves more than Vance's poor (albeit well intended) excuse for a solution to its problems. That poor excuse, in my opinion, is what made Hillbilly Elegy a book that I wanted to love, but I couldn't help but resent. 

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

"Yes, I'm From New York"


With more than three days worth of extensive driving in the two Virginia's this week, I can safely say that I have a new favorite game to play while wistfully driving through the two state's mountainous backwoods highways: "Yes, I'm From New York."

It doesn't really matter where I have been: tourist traps, back roads, fast food joints, or even interstate highways, because once you reach the western expanses of Maryland (which make you question how they are even in the same state as Baltimore, but I digress), there is apparently nothing more interesting than New York license plates. 

This intrigue is expressed predominantly by staring, especially on the highway. Passersby are not very subtle when they pass your New York car and then proceed to stare intently into your driver's window to catch a glimpse of the illusive Yankee.

Spotted: an illusive Yankee, eating at a burger 
joint with the greatest bacon & cheese fries.
Another favorite of mine is when you stop at a gas station, tourist attraction, or somewhere along those lines, and the natives stop what they are doing to see who (or what) emerges from the vehicle. 

However, I think that I have mostly disappointed them, because while I do wear a cheap watch that looks nice, I usually also wear flannels and I am bearded; not exactly the slick New York City denizen they were probably imagining when they saw my plates. 

My favorite "Yes, I'm From New York" moment happened in West Virginia's Greenbrier Valley when I pulled into a local gas station. Now, just to set the scene: I drive a little Chevy Aveo, which is probably a slightly more masculine version of what would happen if you mixed an authentic Yugo with a classic Volkswagen.

Stock photo: this is my car. Just imagine New York
license plates and my jolly face behind the wheel.
As I pull into the station, I notice this pretty, tall brunette lady leaving a souped up low riding car's passenger side while her boyfriend remains in the driver's seat. They both notice my car, my plates, and then wait for me to exit my vehicle, which I did unassumingly.

When I left my Aveo, the lady realized I was dressed fairly similar to how most people in her neck of the woods are on a regular basis and she politely smiled at me, while her boyfriend looked at me in abject disgust that I was driving such a small, seemingly non-masculine car.

I found it all to be rather amusing, but apparently the boyfriend did not, because as he and his lady pulled away from the station, he was muttering something and pointing at my car as if I had intentionally run over his favorite Bloodhound while driving the damned thing. 

As you might imagine, this all seemed rather silly to me at first, but then I realized that I had very little to say in all actuality, because what right did I have to find amusement with their actions toward me when I had gone on this very trip to begin trying to understand their very culture?

How can I now begrudge their similar, albeit smaller in scale, yet equally inquisitive attempts to understand me when I am devoting multiple trips across Appalachia to gain a better appreciation for what makes their culture tick?

Side note: it's hard not to love a culture that has engineering marvels
 like this just hanging around on a random highway.
Honestly, I cannot without being a hypocrite, which is why I play my "Yes, I'm From New York" game while remembering that curiosity begets knowledge which begets understanding, and Lord knows the world must understand Appalachia better than it does currently.

Post Script: I did notice that my car attracted other Northern cars like a magnet during my trip, because if I parked my Aveo long enough somewhere that my parking area would usually be covered with nothing but New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and other similar state license plates by the time I returned.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Harvard Students Protest Latin Minimum Word Count Requirements

CAMBRIDGE - Harvard University faculty are up in arms over a student-led rebellion to minimum word count requirements in the Ivy League school’s Department of Classics.

Students plot their dope Latin rap battles
Distressed over the faculty’s insistence that papers written in Latin be at least 1,500 words long, students have engaged in a variety of so-called rebellious acts to protest the minimum word count.

Such acts have included handing in papers with “casus belli” repeated hundreds of times, intentionally misspelling “coitus interruptus” as “coitus dysfunctionus,” and even drawing phallic shaped images that depict penises wearing Roman togas.

“Sic semper tyrannis!” exclaimed Brutus Booth, Pope Professor of the Latin Language and Literature at the highly esteemed university. “This is the greatest travesty to befall American education since the Kent State shootings,” added Booth.

Hailed as one of the foremost institutions for studying classic literature in both Greek and Latin, Harvard administrators have threatened students with expulsion if the protests persist.

“We will fall upon them as the Romans did on Carthage,” explained Department of Classics Chair Romulus Caesar, who has reportedly taken a fondness to the depictions of penises wearing togas.

Caesar denied the allegations, despite one of the phallic drawn images hanging just feet away on the wall beside his desk.

Although no students were willing to speak on the record about the ongoing protests, one young woman majoring in Classics promised that if reforms are not made immediately in her department, “Today it’s Latin, but tomorrow it’s Greek…”

Note: This is very clearly satirical. Please... just read, laugh, possibly share, and carry on with your existence. Thanks.