Thursday, June 30, 2011

Charlie and Me

Today was going along rather uneventfully. I had just walked my dog and was getting ready to run a couple of errands when my wife came home. Upon entering the house, she said that there was an unknown black and white "foofoo" dog in our yard. I immediately went to the front window, only to see that the dog had crossed the road. My wife and I looked at the dog for a moment, wondering where the dog came from, and then decided we'd better go get it before it tried to cross again so that it wouldn't get hit, particularly because we live on a busy street. My wife quickly gathered a leash at our front door, while we both slipped on shoes, and we headed out ...

We were too late. As we opened our door, our neighbor was carrying the dog up to the yard from the street. The dog had been hit by a car.

We rushed forward to see how the dog was. He was still breathing, but he wasn't moving, and there was a little bit, though not a lot, of blood. We quickly learned, while my neighbor went to get his truck to take the dog to the vet, that the dog belonged to my neighbor's mother-in-law, and my neighbor was watching the dog for the day.

I sat with the dog in the bed of the pickup truck on the ride to the vet clinic, trying to comfort him and to make sure he stayed alert.

When we got to the vet clinic, he was still breathing, and upon checking him, the doctor said he was responsive, but the doctor was worried about internal bleeding. The doctor took him back to examine him more fully, while my neighbor and I waited.

I learned moments later that the dog's name is Charlie and that he was only about a year old. Moments after that, I learned he had died. The accident had ruptured his spleen, and he had bled out internally.

I drove my neighbor home a couple of minutes later, and I stayed with him until his wife and daughter came home. He was, understandably, very distraught, and his love for animals came through quite visibly. Indeed, the fact that he let Charlie run around came from a certain kind of love. He said he didn't feel right locking a dog up in a fenced yard, like it was abusive for the dog not to be able to be free. How, he asked, would people like it if they couldn't be free?

As I'm sure anyone who has seen how militant I am about safety and protection around my dogs can attest, I have a different view. I also, though, decided that this wasn't the time or place to go into that. My neighbor clearly felt the gravity of the situation, and some comment by me didn't seem like it would be appropriate or helpful.

I maintained composure as I gave support to my neighbor, but as soon as I left and walked back to my house, I could tell the sense of loss was hitting me significantly. All day, I have been haunted by the image of Charlie across the street, perfectly fine, just moments from the event that would so abruptly take his short life. I'm reminded, as I was three years ago when my wife and I came across a cat named Mocha who had been hit by a car, just how fragile life is.

I'm also reminded of how good it is to love animals. I only knew Charlie for about five minutes, and I hope I was at least somewhat of a comfort to him in his pain and shock during the journey to the vet. I deeply wish that the result had been better--that he had survived, not for my sake, not for my neighbor's sake, not for my neighbor's mother-in-law's sake, but for Charlie's sake.

Pets are wonderful companions. Take a moment to cherish your pet. Then, don't stop cherishing her or him. As I learned all too unexpectedly with the death of my dog Nellie Fox last October, and as I was reminded today by my brief time with Charlie, our dogs, cats, birds, hamsters, and other pets deserve everything we can do with and for them.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Even Better than the Real Thing

After years of claiming U2 as my favorite band, I finally saw them in concert in September 2009 at Soldier Field in Chicago (and promptly wrote about the experience both here and on Tunesmate). I enjoyed the experience enough to see them a second time, this time this past Sunday (June 26) at Spartan Stadium on the campus of one of my alma maters—Michigan State University in East Lansing, Michigan. It was well worth a second trip to see them during their 360 Tour, and I ended up liking this concert even better than the Chicago one. And that seems like an appropriate place to start this review, because “even better” is where the band started the show.

As the original recording of David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” played for the crowd to open the show, I’m sure I wasn’t alone in recognizing chords from U2’s “Even Better than the Real Thing” slowly making their way forward. Sure enough, within moments the band cracked into the song to lead off the concert with a set of four songs from Achtung Baby that also included “The Fly,” “Mysterious Ways,” and “Until the End of the World.” You can read more of my thoughts about how the show played out—and it was an outstanding show—in my other review, which I’ve posted today on Tunesmate. Here, though, in keeping with the spirit of this blog, I want to pick up the theme of “Even Better than the Real Thing” to analyze the show more in terms of the cultural and political contexts in which it works.

After going to the show in Chicago, I realized while heading to East Lansing how easy it would be to watch the band members as they are projected on the video screen rather than to watch them on stage. So, I initially tried to watch them on the actual stage, particularly since I was in good position to be able to see them all clearly on stage—to their right, maybe 80 yards from the front of the stage, nine rows from the field. Still, over and over again, the urge got the better of me throughout most of the concert, and I watched the video screen. Part of that had to do with the other images that the show projected onto the screen during songs, such as images of Aung San Suu Kyi during “Walk On” and of children’s artwork during “Miss Sarajevo.” Still, much of the time the video screen only showed the band … except that it didn’t only show the band. It showed the band in a way that looked more real than real—like high definition concert footage that brings out the vividness of colors and the movement within images to levels of intensity that my eye would not catch if I just looked at what was happening on stage. Thus, the experience of the show, mediated so largely through the video, was “even better than the real thing,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if the band and its promoters did that intentionally. After all, U2 did write the song “Even Better than the Real Thing,” and they have touched on that theme in other work as well. The visual experiences of the concert, then, are “even better than the real thing.” So, too, might be the political experiences.

As I mentioned on this blog after seeing U2 for the first time, U2 concerts clearly contain a number of elements designed to highlight political issues, including funding for AIDS research and relief, the work of Amnesty International, and, as Bono put it a couple of times in East Lansing, the general goals of “peace” and “love.” Yet, I could wonder the degree to which they even translate at the stadium. For instance, I consider “Walk On” to be a particularly poignant moment during the concert, as the band and the video screen bring attention to the story of Suu Kyi and, since her recent release from house arrest, the fact that more than 2000 people remain imprisoned in Burma under the same kinds of human rights violations as Suu Kyi was. Yet, much of the crowd around me took that song as a moment to sit for a break. Meanwhile, the tribute to E Street Band saxophonist Clarence Clemons that ended the show garnered significantly more crowd participation when Bono asked the audience to hold up cell phones in the dark in memory of him. I have no problem with the touching tribute to Clemons, but I have to wonder what’s happening when it receives a much great response than the tribute to Suu Kyi, other hostages, and the work of Amnesty International.

However, even if one isn’t so actively engaged in listening to the political messages embedded in the performance, it’s hard not to miss them, including a message from Desmond Tutu that we’re all “one” in the fight for freedom and human rights; a statement by Bono of how much he loves the “idea” of the United States of America; a dedication of the performance of “Beautiful Day” to Gabrielle Giffords, opened by a video recording of her husband, astronaut Mark Kelly, reciting some of the song’s lines; and Bono’s mention of prominent work on issues related to Africa that has been done at Michigan State University. So, it’s easy, to borrow a word featured prominently in the U2 song “Vertigo” (which was also part of the concert set), to feel socially and politically engaged during a U2 concert like the one in East Lansing.

Still, I wonder to what degree those experiences translate beyond simply cheering for them or listening to them at the concert. As I said in 2009, in the end I think that U2 bringing attention to these issues is a useful thing. I, for one, do leave the concert inspired to do more politically and socially, and I think to some degree I have followed through in that regard, even if indirectly. And, though the likes of Amnesty International probably deserve more credit for Suu Kyi’s release, I think it can be reasonably argued that almost a decade’s worth of U2 drawing attention to her situation probably helped. Yet, particularly given that the show still occurs within the context of the spectacle of the rock concert genre, and that it includes many elements that draw on the conventions of that genre, I can’t help but feel that the experience ends up providing for many an experience that they find “even better than the real thing.” One can pretty easily feel politically and socially engaged for a couple of hours, and leave thinking that experience made one a part of the larger struggle for issues like human rights, but in the end not really do anything other than feel that. To continue with the “Vertigo” reference, then, U2 concerts “give me something I can feel,” but I hope that for many of us it can translate into more than just that.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

A Three Season Ride

Two-and-a-half years ago, shortly after my wife and I started subscribing to Showtime, the network began to advertise a new show that was debuting in January 2009 called United States of Tara. Before the show even began, we looked forward to it. I can still distinctly remember during 2008-2009 winter break greatly anticipating the show's first episode before I even knew if I would like it, just based on my reaction to its previews.

That's typically a recipe for disappointment, since it's difficult for something to live up to that kind of expectation. However, the show did not let me down, and my wife and I have watched every episode over its three seasons.

The show isn't perfect. Its depiction of college experiences in the third season was seriously lacking. At times, some of the characters have felt a bit exaggerated. I'm sure people more qualified than I am could point out some critiques of the show's depiction of mental illness.

That said, I have enjoyed the show for its three seasons. I have laughed with much of the humor. I have often felt for the characters (well, a number of them, anyway ...). And, most of all (though, again, I'm sure there are some critiques of how it has represented mental illness), I thought that the show made at least a reasonably commendable attempt to address how people might work with mental illness rather than simply trying to bottle it up or stigmatize it.

Given all of that, I was disappointed when, a month ago, I found out that Showtime will not be renewing the show. I know that no show can last forever (though apparently The Simpsons is giving it a try), but three seasons just didn't seem like enough for the show. I felt there was more they could address with the characters and their experiences, and a couple more seasons would have allowed for that.

This past week the last episode aired, and perhaps the creators of the show realized that their future was in doubt when writing and filming the third season, since the final episode worked both as a season finale from which they could build a fourth season and as a series finale in the event of the series' cancellation. I felt a little sad when the episode ended. I won't be able to anticipate a new season next year the way I have looked forward to each of the first three seasons, and I suppose three seasons isn't enough when a show has met the high expectations I had before it even began. Still, to take a phrase from the show's theme song, I "love[d] the ride," and I'd recommend checking it out if you haven't already.