Getting out of the car

roots

As someone who doesn’t drive, I recognize the variables of drivers getting out of the car. They have to be aware of cars, bicycles, and the occasional jaywalking pedestrian.

Unless they’re parking on a one-way street with parking on both sides, they don’t have to worry about uneven curbs, trees, and the like.

In front of the houses both to the north (pictured) and the south of our house, there are large shade trees. They are wonderful in keeping the street a bit cooler in the summer. I would hate for them to go.

But each of them is pushing the curb into the street and slightly upward, no more than a few inches, but just enough to make it difficult for someone on the passenger side to get out of the car. And walking over the roots is an adventure in balance.

You say verges, I say berm 

I’ve become ve, I say ry cognisant of uneven road verges. What?  It is “a strip of ground cover consisting of grass or garden plants, sometimes shrubs and trees, located between a roadway and a sidewalk. Verges are also known by other names such as parkway, grass strip, nature strip, curb strip, berm, park strip, or tree lawn, the usage of which is often quite regional.” There are other terms.

Recently, I was getting out of the car, and the verge was at a 30-degree angle, at least. I don’t usually need my cane to get to the sidewalk, but I did that day. 

Operating on low energy

Not Detected

I’ve been operating on low energy.

After I went to the urgent care place on Sunday, June 14, and it appeared to be just allergies, it seemed to abate. But it, or something, came back with a near-constant variation.

And THEN, I got what I suspect was food poisoning; my wife, eating at the same venue, had some symptoms as well. (For a time, I thought I might have the parasite Cyclospora, except I never had a fever. When you are unwell, you look at all sorts of reasons.)

So I went back to the urgent care place on Wednesday, July 1,  and got my nose swabbed. The next day, I got the results:

Streptococcus pyogenes – Not Detected

Mycoplasma pneumoniae – Not Detected

SARS-CoV-2 (COVID-19) – Not Detected

Influenza A – Not Detected

Influenza B – Not Detected

RSV A/B – Not Detected

Rhinovirus – Not Detected

Enterovirus – Not Detected

Still, everything was an effort. We had severe weather that Wednesday night: driving rain and lightning so severe that I unplugged my laptop.

The next day, my wife was going to drive me to my podiatrist; usually, I would have just taken the bus, but it was 96F (35.5C), with a heat index of 107F (41.7C). According to the WRGB meteorologist Steve LaPointe, “the peak heat index matched yesterday’s peak, but the duration of heat indices in the 100s was twice as long.”

Power line?

We had left the house to get to the doctor’s office when we found a power line draped over not only our car but our daughter’s. It didn’t SEEM to be live, but we don’t trust our “expertise.” We gingerly got in the car. After my wife drove off, I called National Grid; of course I have their emergency number programmed on my cellphone.

When we got back, we found the loose wire rolled up in a tree. The message on my landline – my account is tied to that phone – indicated it wasn’t their wire, but Spectrum, the cable company.  

This mean I needed to call Spectrum. Since their default menu is to try to fix a problem that I don’t have, I yell (or squawk) “Representative” so I can get a Real Person. 

All of this is not really onerous, but in low energy mode, meh. I’ve been doing a BRAT diet, expanding it of late because it’s so damn boring. 

I can’t sing more than an octave. Someone asked if I would participate in a brief 4th of July musical bit. I would have loved to, but I simply could not, which made me sad.

Okay, I’m done whining for now, mostly because I’m too tired to zzzz… 

Loss Leaders Revisited by Dustbury

Charles G. Hill

Dustbury was the nom de plume of one Charles G. Hill of Oklahoma. He was an old-school blogger, going back to at least the mid-1990s, as I noted here. Most unfortunately, he died as a result of an automobile accident in early September 2019.

I had decided to retrieve parts of his page. Specifically, I was fascinated by his encyclopedic analysis of the Warner Brothers Loss Leaders, which ran from the late 1960s to the early 1980s, which I discussed, but it slipped my mind. Then I discovered that some other company had snatched the dustbury.com URL, an entity “preparing legal documentation.”    

Fortunately, the site is still on the Internet Archive, a/k/a the Wayback Machine.  Internet Archive is a non-profit library of millions of free texts, movies, software, music, websites, and more. Not incidentally, I’ve been donating a little bit of money to them each month.

So with Dustbury’s daughter’s permission, I want to capture pages he has, going back to 1996. I haven’t figured out the platform or the technology. So I thought I’d just post the one piece that led me to follow him. 

I own 31 of the 36 albums pictured.

Loss Leaders Revisited

In the early Sixties, no one would have mistaken Warner Bros. Records for anything other than a subsidiary of a Big Corporation trying to dip a toe into those confusing rock and roll waters. When the British began Invading, Warner’s big signing was Petula Clark. (Sister label Reprise, a long way from its Rat Pack origins, managed to snag the Kinks.) The Warners roster was solid, but nothing you’d accuse of being hip.

But by the early Seventies, Warner Bros. and Reprise had become the unofficial arbiters of musical taste. The roster included acts ranging from the Association to Frank Zappa, a level of diversity unheard of in a mid-sized record company. (The Warner Communications juggernaut, later to be part of the Time Warner behemoth and ultimately absorbed by AOL, was still in its formative period: Atlantic had been acquired in the late Sixties, Elektra in 1970, but there was little synergy among the labels, which were still operated as separate companies, a situation which hasn’t changed much today.)

The happy state of affairs at Warner/Reprise was mostly due to the willingness of Mo Ostin and Joe Smith, heads of the labels, to sign acts they thought would make a difference; however, merely signing acts does not guarantee they’ll get a hearing, and with Top 40 in decline and MTV still unimagined, it was necessary to do something more.

The beginning

“Something more” appeared in a two-LP gatefold cover in the spring of 1969, and this is what the first page had to say:

What we have here, to be out front about it, are some of our favorite records by 23 of the artists currently recording for Warner Bros.-Seven Arts and Reprise Records. We have put this double album together not only for our own enjoyment — since it includes worthy singles that never made it commercially as well as tracks from current albums — but hopefully to win new friends for some very creative people.

The Sinatras, the Dean Martins, the Pet Clarks have their own songbooks. This one is for those of you who may never have heard of Van Morrison but remember “Brown Eyed Girl”. Who are interested to know that Jethro Tull and The Pentangle are both outselling Sammy Davis, Jr. Who dig The Mothers of Invention and are wondering what Frank Zappa is up to now.

And so, with this modest manifesto, The 1969 Warner/Reprise Songbook opens. Wild Man Fischer, recorded live on the Sunset Strip, hawks “Songs for Sale”, which segues nicely into “My Sunday Feeling”, off Jethro Tull’s This Was album. On the way to the last track — Miriam Makeba’s version of Dylan’s “I Shall Be Released” — you’ll hear from everyone from the Beau Brummels to Randy Newman to the Fugs. Around an hour and a half of the finest Burbank had to offer, for the ridiculously low price of $2, by mail only from Warner Bros. And not even “plus shipping”.

So it began

The Songbook was a success, and Warner followed it up with The 1969 Warner/Reprise Record Show, or Son of Songbook. From then on, there were at least two samplers a year from Burbank through the Seventies and into the early Eighties, until the series finally petered out. Early on, the liner notes, the sort of thing usually done to perfection at Warners by VP Stan Cornyn, were uncredited. Eventually, the job of compilation and annotation was turned over to eminent musicologist Barry Hansen, a.k.a. Dr. Demento, who presided over most of the Seventies releases. The albums were advertised on the inner sleeves of almost all Warner/Reprise albums, and some of the advertising material is rather demented in its own right. A sleeve from 1971, by which time there had been half a dozen officially-designated Loss Leaders, proclaimed the following:

The pitch

These Warner/Reprise specials are full stereo, double albums in deluxe packaging. The double albums ($2 for two records) average about 28 selections, each of them is filled with the best of the artists’ work, plus some extra collectors’ items (like unreleased singles, even an Ice Capades commercial by our Van Dyke Parks).

You can’t buy these albums in a store; they are available only by mail, for the ridiculously low price of $2 for the doubles, $1 for Zappéd, and $3 for the deluxe three-record set, Looney Tunes & Merrie Melodies.

We can get away with that low price because these celebrated artists and this benevolent record company have agreed not to make a profit on this venture. We (and they) feel it’s more important that these samples of musical joy be heard.

If you’re as suspicious of big record companies as we feel you have every right to be, we avert your qualms with the following High Truths:

This is new stuff, NOT old tracks dredged out of our Dead Dogs files. If our Accounting Department were running the company, they’d charge you $9.96 for each double album. But they’re not. Yet.

We are not 100 per cent benevolent. It’s our fervent hope that you, Dear Consumer, will be encouraged to pick up more of what you hear on these special albums at regular retail prices.

That you haven’t heard much of this material we hold obvious. Over 8000 new albums glut the market (and airwaves) each year. Some of our Best Stuff has to get overlooked. Or underheard. Underbought. Thus, we’re trying to get right to you Phonograph Lovers, bypassing the middle man.

Each album is divinely packaged, having been designed at no little expense by our latently talented Art Department.

Changing times

Warners kept on putting out Loss Leaders through the Seventies and into the early Eighties, despite rising costs — frills were eliminated along the way, and the last couple of albums went out the door at $3 for two discs. Did the Accounting Department finally start running the record company after all those years? Not really. What ultimately killed off the Loss Leaders, it appears, was that what had been “alternative” in the Songbook days eventually became the musical mainstream itself, which left the series without much raison d’être. Warners’ Stan Cornyn explained it to me this way:

“[I]t was an idea whose time had gone. James Taylor was on the cover of Time, the underground had risen, and if we’d been righteous, we’d be trying to re-introduce artists who’d been left in the dust, whose careers were overshadowed by the new guys with long hair and sideburns.”

In other words, the Sinatras, the Dean Martins, the Pet Clarks. What goes around indeed comes around.

I remember them fondly!

Still, I’d suggest, based simply on how much they got me to spend, the Loss Leaders must have been one of the most successful music-industry promotions of all time, and while I don’t have the complete series on my shelf just yet, I do have a fairly detailed list of the discs I do have, along with updates from the field and cover art where available.


Praise be unto Jeff Tamarkin for mentioning this little screed in Where the Interaction Is in the April 1997 issue of Discoveries magazine.

Much of the information from the Loss Leaders list is mirrored with permission by Audiogalaxy’s Power Pop group at http://home.clara.net/fil/rocksamplers/warner.htm.

Special thanks to Keith Hanlon, Larry Hooper, Peter and Darlene Morris, Terrence Michael Gabor, Tom Smith, Drew Shomer, and Mike Clarson, for contributions to the list beyond the call of duty, and to Stan Cornyn, who helped put it all into perspective.

Last update: 5 February 2007

 

You’re making decisions wrong

constraints make us better?

The opinion piece You’re Making Decisions Wrong by Mr. Epstein is the author of “Inside the Box: How Constraints Make Us Better.”

I planned a flight to visit my baby sister in Charlotte. Somehow, I booked a very early flight for my daughter and me, different from the later one my other sister had arrraged for herself, also from ALB.

Once I recognized that I couldn’t change it easily,  and stopped beating myself up over it, I leaned into the error. I could have breakfast at the airport with my kid, read a week’s worth of newspapers, et al. 

Epstein: “If in making decisions you are often guided by a search for the best, you are going about decision making all wrong — and you’re also probably less happy for it.” There’s a certain librarian brain I have going, in which I must find a quick and dirty way to winnow out the choices.

“In an age of information and choice abundance, we assume we can find the best of everything if we look long and hard enough. Psychologists call that tendency maximizing.” Yes, someone suggested to keep on looking for another option. Don’t wanna! Got other things to do.

“Herbert Simon, a pioneer of artificial intelligence and cognitive psychology, as well as a Nobel laureate in economics… demonstrated that for most decisions, humans can’t really evaluate the options available — there are too many, our information about them is incomplete and our minds aren’t built to weigh them all — and so we rely on mental shortcuts.”

I live for the shortcut.

When I’m watching the news, I record it and fast forward the “I don’t care” stories, the “I don’t need to know that.” Also, I was out eating lunch with my daughter, and the TV by the bar was showing a discussion about whether some player or coach should have congratulated the opponent when the player or coach’s team was down by 30-something with eight mintes left, I wasn’t watching it, but conversation among the talking heads must have lasted ten minutes. Yet I cannot tell you the teams or people involved. 

Simon “coined the term ‘satisficing’ — a portmanteau of satisfy and suffice — to describe how we consider a limited set of options, then choose one that is good enough and move on to live our lives.”

When I’m asked to take on another task, my first reaction to say no. The reason I’ve done a few of those those “Moth” readings at the Madison Theatre on the last Tuesdays of the month is that the benefit of community and self-knowledge  is greater than the lost of those two hours. 

“Psychologists who followed up on Mr. Simon’s work have shown that his personal philosophy was both efficient and wise. Shortly after Mr. Simon’s death in 2001, a team of researchers created a maximization scale to measure where a person falls on the spectrum between maximizer and satisficer. They found that it’s usually bad to be a maximizer.”

I can find maximizers to be exhausting!

“Maximizers tend to be less satisfied with their decisions and their lives. They are typically less happy, more prone to regret and more likely to compare themselves endlessly with others. Satisficers don’t necessarily have low standards. Their standard is ‘good enough for me’ rather than ‘the best out there,’ and that makes it possible to feel satisfied with their choices, instead of haunted by the ones they didn’t make.” Regrets? I’ve had a few but mostly from an unchangable past.

“This is critical today because chronic maximizing has never been easier. In 2006 an economist calculated that the consumer options available to citizens of modern economies exceeded those of preindustrial societies roughly by a factor of 100 million. That is an almost incomprehensible multiplication of choice, and it extends well beyond consumer goods into questions of who to be, how to live, where to work and whom to love.”

There’s an hourlong video,  Why Constraints Make You More Creative (Not Freedom) – David Epstein. You could watch it. Or not.

Sunday Stealing Is Artificial

Essential American songs of the last 250 years

Welcome to Sunday Stealing. Here we will steal all types of questions from every corner of the blogosphere. Our promise to you is that we will work hard to find the most interesting and intelligent questions. Cheers to all of us thieves!

Since it’s the 4th of July weekend, we’re going to keep this simple. On us all! The first question came courtesy of AI. Sunday Stealing Is Artificial.

4th of July Questions

1) If you could attend a 4th of July fireworks display anywhere in the United States, where would you choose?

I want to be somewhere with a great sightline, and not a lot of people setting off their own incendiary devices. In Albany, I used to have a great view in my former church’s parking lot on Lark Street. About 12 years ago, my daughter and I loved the view from the field behind Albany High School. But on the way home, only a half dozen blocks away, I felt as though we were going through a war zone. So, sadly, I settled for watching it on television. 

2) What book are you currently reading?

Nothing. I’m doing a book review on Tuesday, July 7, at 2 pm at the Albany Public Library, 161 Washington Ave. The book is African-Americans in the Wyoming Valley, 1778-1990, by Emerson I. Moss. I picked this book because I have an ancestor, and indeed, a whole family to whom I am related, mentioned substantially in this book. Preparing a book review involves rereading, taking notes, and the like.  

CCL

3) What have you been listening to?

Last week, CBS Sunday Morning offered up Essential American songs of the last 250 years. The presentation featured Sara Bareilles singing  “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman” made famous by Aretha, and Jon Batiste performing “Georgia On My Mind” 

Here’s the Spotify roster. Lists like this always generate a certain controversy. “Where’s X? What about Y?” The missed choice I read about most was “Take Me Home, Country Roads” by John Denver. A guy named Mike Smith had a list of 15 alternatives; I totally agree with Midnight Train To Georgia, probably 16 Tons, and El Paso. 

4) What shows or movies have you been watching?

I finally watched Idiocracy, an absurd 2006 film which is becoming more believable by the year. “Corporal Joe Bauers, a decidedly average American, is selected for a top-secret hibernation program but is forgotten and left to awaken to a future so incredibly moronic that he’s easily the most intelligent person alive.” Will stupidity win out? One fan on Rotten Tomatoes wrote: “The most prophetic movie ever created. It predicted Trump’s America in an amazingly accurate and satirical way!”

My wife and I are FINALLY watching The American Revolution. We’re 2/6 of the way through the Ken Burns documentary. It’s amazing how little we knew about the period between Lexington/Concord/Bunker Hill and July 1776.

Thank you for playing! Please come back next week.

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