Month: September 2005 (page 4 of 4)

That, my friend, is jazz!
-Bill the Bassist, Florida State University, 1978

A double-shot tonight! Listening to arguably the best jazz album ever made, and reading a pretty definitive account of the making of that album. Author Ashley Kahn writes about his introduction to Kind of Blue…

My own discovery of the music came in the mid-seventies, when a high-school buddy yanked a dog-eared album out of my father’s record collection and explained: “This is a classic.” Between the scratches and the pops (Dad must play this one a lot, I recall thinking) a stark, moody world unveiled itself. Though the sound was far simpler and sadder than any of the peppy, big band music I then thought of as jazz, it was somehow immediately familiar.

If you are already a fan of the album, perhaps a “first time” story of your own comes to mind. Or ask the friend who turned you on to Kind of Blue. Bring that memory with you to the world we’re about to enter. Use this book as a primer, a listening guide, a way to understand that there is even more to these forty minutes of great jazz performance than meets the ear. Allow this book to show you that occasionally that which is the least outspoken has the most to say.

Get the picture…September 1978, first floor, Broward Hall, Florida State University, Tallahassee, Florida. Getting to know the guys who made up our own “unofficial fraternity” in the fire-exit isolated section of the dorm.

Next door on one side, Chris, in a custodian-closet-turned-dorm-room. (I’m not really sure after all these years whether Chris actually was a student or a squatter.)

Next door on the other side, James (a math geek) and Mark (an early computer geek, who once sailed with Jimmy Buffett).

Across the hall, Vince (straight out of The Godfather!) and Non-Descript John.

And next door to Vince and John, Rick (pre-med, Mr. Florida contestant, owner of two snakes) and Bill the Bassist. Bill the Bassist, who laughed at my alleged cool sophistication because I “liked jazz.” Bill the Bassist, who good-naturedly mocked Stan Kenton and Maynard Ferguson. Bill the Bassist, who brought out exotic albums by people named Coltrane, Shepp, Monk, Gordon, Mingus, and of course, Miles.

When he brought Kind of Blue over and put it on my turntable, my idea of jazz and the trumpet changed forever. And that album, long since worn out, now replaced by a CD, already old the first time I heard it, still holds a kind of magic like no other.

David Reid is one of my Redneck Pastor buds. Check out this realistic post over at his blog…

We must remember what Jesus did while on earth (John 9:1-11). He chose compassion and action over philosophy about the cause…can we do less?

Satan tricked us, and the world’s been messed up ever since…it’s not fair, it’s not right, it’s tragic beyond belief…but “God sent forth His Son” and He is in the process, in His timing, setting everything right. As C.S. Lewis said on losing his wife, “The pain now is part of the joy then.”

A comforting thought to me is that Heaven won’t have hurricanes.

Even so, come Lord Jesus.

Check out some of David’s other Katrina-related posts whole you’re over there…

Like many – most – people I know, I’ve had a helpless feeling gnawing at me since the beginning of the week. As I look at the pictures from New Orleans, Mississippi, and right here in our own neck of the woods, I get more and more sad and depressed. Then I hear the bozos – on all sides – start politicizing the situation, and I get almost nauseous.

My first instinct – like that of many people – is to say “What can I do? How can I get personally involved in what’s going on?” Then I hear the pleas for financial assistance , and I think, “There you go. That’s what to do – write a check!” But then, the feeling of copping out hits. You know, that weird sense of “Yeah, just go ahead and write that check. That’ll relieve your guilt and give you a good excuse for not getting in your car and heading to the hardest-hit areas.” And I get torn again.

But, at the risk of sounding like a cop-out, or a coward, or a heathen, or worse, I think, at this point, the writing-a-check thing may just be the best course of action I can take. This article from Baptist Press sums up what I’ve been thinking the last couple of days.

Yes, I would be interested in going to New Orleans, or Mississippi, or somewhere else. But when I contemplate that course of action, I’m struck with the realistic idea that that’s exactly what they don’t need there – another person in an already unmanageable crowd of humanity. I’d just be another statistic.

Yes, I’m willing to go and do hands-on ministry, but there are people who are actually trained – well-trained, even – to do just that. They don’t need me in their way. Besides, I probably couldn’t get into the worst-affected areas anyway.

Yes, I’m willing to load up materials that I think the victims could use. But I’m looking at what I think they could use from my high and dry perspective, not from the perspective of the people who are in place there already. (I’m reminded of the reports of people sending discarded fur coats to the tsunami areas last year.)

There are a lot of reasons why I should go in person. And there are just as many – or more – reasons why I’ll be writing a check or two and encouraging those I know to do the same. I can pray here. And after all, it’s the condition of my heart, not the location of my body, that matters in prayer. Those who know what they’re doing will do what they’re supposed to do, and those who need their help will be served in the most effective way possible.

Your mileage may vary…

I’m on a jazz kick these days, and so when I saw an article in this morning’s New York Times about Hank Jones, (pesky free registration required, or BugMeNot) I jumped in with both feet. Toward the end of the article, there’s this exchange…

When a jazz musician reaches his 60’s, the race against time begins. In his mid-80’s, Mr. Jones is still racing. “I know I can do better than I’m doing now,” he commented, casually, toward the end of our talk.

You really mean that?

“Oh, yeah. There’s another level that’s reachable. I think it’s just a question of time, perhaps, or dedication. I know it’s there.”

Wow! Here’s a guy who’s 87 years old, who refuses to rest on his laurels. He wants to continually get better than he is right now.

The push for excellence must be ongoing. You can’t ever quit. Not to keep up with the neighbors or the new kids, but just for your own sense of doing the best you possibly can with the tools God gave you.

So sang the Beatles years ago. And you can’t buy “good marketing,” either. So says Steve Yastrow in a post about Sprint/Nextel over at Tom Peters’s place…

You can’t buy great marketing, no matter how big you are. You have to do great marketing. You can’t say “Yes, you can” if your employees and customers think “No, we can’t.” Marketing can’t be a big game of fakeout, no matter how big your checkbook is.

This is one of the – if not THE – biggest obstacles most of us who are trying to lead/transition organizations face: The “doing” doesn’t always match the “saying.” There is a tension between where we want to go and where we’re stuck, hanging out. This usually leads us to over-promise and under-deliver, in marketing terms. Which means not only do we have a problem with what we can and can’t offer, but it also means we have a serious credibility gap. Which just seems to conspire to keep the vicious cycle spinning.