Category: blog

Prop 8

Someone asked me today to comment on the passing of Proposition 8 in California.

When we deny the rights we treasure to others, we only diminish ourselves.
 
— Jack Drescher, in a letter to the New York Times. (thanks, Karina).

Friday pint

Every Friday I transfer posts from the Virtual Pint archives.

Light posting for the next few days while my dad’s in town. Have a lovely weekend, everyone.

  • What’s literature? (November 2003) — Truth, heart, story…the usual.

  • Tribal (November 2003) — Urban tribes and the webs of Solitaire. I still love the idea of tribes, and am interested in Seth Godin’s new book as a way of expanding my own notions about tribes, and connecting them to my ideas about managing.

  • No sequel (November 2003) — I think this might have been the first time anyone asked me this question. I still don’t plan to do one, but I’ve played around with ways to do stories that are related, if not directly. More about that in upcoming Friday pints and who knows, maybe in real time too.

Getting shrunk at school

This is another one of those posts where I have to excuse myself and take my parents off into the corner of the internet for a moment to break some news. Hi Dad, hi Mom. Remember the drugs in high school post? This is the sex in high school post. I just thought you should hear from me first before I told the whole goshdarned internet that yes, I’ve had sex.

And you know, I would rather have swallowed my own tongue than talk about it when I was 16.

Ah, well. The universe sometimes likes to have fun with us around this kind of thing, doesn’t it? So when I was 16, in the winter of my junior year, I was completely hot for a senior boy named John. He was very cute. Was he a nice person? You know, I honestly have no idea. I didn’t know him well at all. I don’t know why he started talking to me in the dining room common room one night after dinner. I don’t know what he found attractive in me, apart from my fairly obvious attraction to him. I don’t know if he liked me or was just being opportunistic. And it doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t blame him, and wish him nothing but well.

Because hell, I didn’t know much about myself either. I do know that I was very curious about sex, very personally reserved, and conscious/self-aware in ways that fooled people into thinking I must be very mature about everything. Hah. I wasn’t mature. But I was responsible, in spades. I got a double dose of the responsibility gene from somewhere in the ancestral chain (raises eyebrow at father through the internet), and so when it became clear to me that sex was a possibility, I took myself off to the school infirmary, and tried not to throw up from anxiety while I asked the doctor for a prescription for birth control.

This was 1977. I was at boarding school, and the school was expected to act in loco parentis for me. Giving me an Rx for the pill without parental knowledge was one of those huge gray areas — I was of legal age, I wasn’t breaking any laws, but I’m sure they imagined the lawsuits and the bad publicity of being accused of condoning or promoting sexual activity among students.

The thing was, they were doing their best. Social realities were so much less well-articulated in the 70’s: we did not have general cultural conversations about teenage sex or domestic violence or drug addiction, etc., to the same degree that we do now. We certainly didn’t involve the young people in those conversations. So I was very much putting them on the spot by openly acknowledging that I was intending to have sex, and by asking them to help me protect myself from pregnancy.

But it turns out the school had a process for this (I’m guessing it wasn’t the first time it had come up, grin). The doctor would write the prescription if I would agree to participate in a research project on teenage sexual activity by talking to the school psychiatrist. I don’t know if there really was a project, or if this was just a creative way of dodging liability issues. I said okay because it was the only way I knew to get what I needed, and the next afternoon found myself in the shrink’s office.

Nothing bad happened. He didn’t get prurient about my sex life or ask for Too Much Information. He was more interested in figuring out why I wanted to have sex. No, really. Apparently being 16 wasn’t enough of a reason. It was a pretty surreal conversation, because there was no way I was going to sit in a strange middle-aged man’s office and say anything like well, I want to have sex with this guy because every time he touches me I feel like my brain is turning inside out and my body is trying to achieve orbit…. I wouldn’t have even talked to my best friend about that, never mind the shrink. But, you know, we had a deal. So I just talked about being curious and I think he ended up assuming that it was some kind of intellectual exercise for me, which maybe didn’t sound so weird in a school like St. Paul’s. I don’t know. We talked for an hour and then I got to go to the infirmary and get my little piece of paper.

And then I had to take a taxi to downtown Concord, NH (not the most progressive community on the planet back in the day) and endure the utter disapproval of the pharmacist. He couldn’t deny me the pill, but he could and did explain how to use it at the top of his conversational voice so that everyone else in line got a real earful.

Ah, the 70’s. Good times.

I’m partly moved to tell this story today because yesterday Nicola gave an interview to a young woman — probably about 16 or 17 — to help with a school project. They had a 20 minute conversation about writing, and how to prepare for a career in writing. It was the first such interview this young woman had ever done in her entire life, if I understood Nicola’s report correctly — so Nicola was also modeling behavior about how to conduct an interview, how to open and close a professional conversation, what kinds of questions might be good. Not “teaching” this woman, just showing her through example and suggestion, and leaving it to her to absorb whatever of those techniques was best for her right now.

It matters how adults interact with people generationally younger. Things rub off. When we’re young, we take behavioral lessons and values lessons from even the most casual encounters — and it matters when the other people involved have more power and authority than we do (which when you’re 16 is pretty much everyone…). The lessons, even the bad ones, stick.

The lesson I took from the shrinking experience was that sometimes being responsible means jumping through hoops that make no sense. That was very instructive, really, because it turns out a lot of life is like that (another grin). And now, looking back, I’m glad I didn’t learn that it was okay to publicly humiliate people less experienced and more vulnerable than me. I hope I never do.

Putting on my interviewing hat

As many of you know, I’m a staff writer for @U2, the #1 U2 fan website in the world. I’m there because I’m a stone U2 fan, and because of how much I enjoy working with @U2 founder and editor Matt McGee. He’s built a great site and runs a great team of people who keep it going.

And now Matt’s published his first book — U2 – A Diary. It’s a comprehensive history of the band in diary format, interspersed with stories, rare photos, and interesting factoids. And it’s not just a collection of details — Matt’s a journalist by training, and he’s always looking for the connections, for the way that events have shaped the overall story of U2. He’s done a fantastic job, and I believe the book will become a must-have for every serious fan, and a cool-to-have for anyone who’s interested in how four creative people manage their relationships and make their music for more than 30 years.

And it’s a very 21st-century book in a particular way — Matt established a website for the book while he was researching and writing, and encouraged fans to participate by helping ferret out details. He’s already generated tons of excitement in the U2 fan community just by giving people a window into the process.

We’re all totally jazzed about it over at @U2, and I’ve just done an interview with Matt in which he shares many stories of how the book came together. In interviews and in person, Matt is real and funny and very self-effacing (the staff had to pretty much bully him into letting us support the book on the site, but hey, we’re just that ornery so it all worked out). Enjoy the interview, and do feel free to buy the book (grin).

And while you’re over at @U2, let me also point you to an interview I did with Michka Assayas (whose book I excerpted in yesterday’s post). He’s a great interview subject, smart and curious and very accessible. (Michka, if you happen to be googling yourself and end up here, do you remember this interview? I enjoyed our conversation very much, and it’s fun to revisit it today.)

I like doing these kinds of interviews. I spend a lot of time crafting the questions, looking for a tone and approach that I hope will connect with the subject, based on what I know (or perceive) about them. You’ll see a tone difference in the questions in these two interviews, but also, I hope, a consistency of focus. I’m interested in people’s process and their experiences of being creative, and I try to make my questions potentially expansive, the kind that give people the chance to talk about the truth of their feelings if they wish to. It’s a real joy for me when people take the questions seriously, and respond as thoughtfully as Michka and Matt. I hope you’ll enjoy reading them.

And now I am off to the rest of my day, ending with salad and spaghetti and alcohol and, I very much hope, Barack Obama’s acceptance speech. I think I may burst into tears at that point, but it’s okay, Nicola is used to it.

A lovely day to you all.

Please vote!

I voted last week, thanks to the mail-in ballot system here.

Filling out the ballot felt… well, historic. Pretty amazing. And for the first time in a long time, I feel hope for the outcome instead of dread.

Here in Washington, we are also voting whether to allow doctors to prescribe lethal drug doses for terminally ill people who want to die; we are choosing a governor and a couple other state executives, as well as judges and representatives; and we’re talking about transportation, traffic congestion and parks.

Have you voted? How do you feel? And what other things is your community deciding today?

The Great Conversation

I’m a communicator. I’m a writer and a professional facilitator, and I like to talk — to share stories, ideas, feelings, beliefs. I like to listen, and learn, and I like to understand. Much of the joy or healing or growth in my life comes through conversation.

And so this election season has been deeply frightening to me because so many of us have stopped talking to each other. We’ve divided into our issue groups and our party affiliations, raised our voices at each other in outrage, called each other names, demonized each other. And here we all are, hundreds of millions of us, looking at each other across enormous gaps of values and beliefs about what is good for us and for the United States of America.

The United States of America.

Nicola and I talk about how people can surprise each other sometimes. I think one of the things that has often surprised her is my absolute passion — my brand of patriotism — for the founding principles of the United States of America. The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights are brilliant as documents and as foundations of government.

I love these documents. I love what they mean and what they promise. They are living ideas for me, and they literally move me to tears. Through these tears, I ask that if you’ve never read them, please please do. Because they are the work of people who overcame deep differences, competing needs, and radically different beliefs to unite. To come together as a nation. To frame a better government than any they had known before. And because of who I am, I look at these documents and I see the United States of America as a great ongoing conversation.

It is in this conversation that we as a nation expose and then explore our differences, and ultimately take action. I believe that the worst parts of our history as a nation come straight from the refusal to listen; and the best parts come from the willingness of people to keep talking, even when it’s hard.

The bedrock of that conversation is our vote.

Please — even if you feel shouted down, marginalized beyond repair, oppressed, ignored, angry, aghast at the drift and discord and divisions that have arisen between us all, please do not leave the conversation. Because if enough of us do stop talking to each other, we will never, never understand. We cannot build bridges through silence. And refusing to vote is the first step to the ringing silence that breaks even the best of ideas and the best of nations.

Please vote. And regardless of the outcome, please, let’s all keep talking to each other.

The story below is long, but I offer it in the spirit of conversation. It’s from the book Bono: In Conversation with Mischka Assayas.

Bono: Harry Belafonte is one of my great heroes… He told me this story about Bobby Kennedy.
 
Harry remembered a meeting with Martin Luther King when the civil rights movement had hit a wall in the early sixties: [impersonating croaky voice of Belafonte] “I tell you, it was a depressing moment when Bobby Kennedy was made attorney general. It was a very bad day for the civil rights movement.”
 
And I said, “Why was that?”
 
Harry said: “Oh, you see, you forget. Bobby Kennedy was Irish. Those Irish were real racists, they didn’t like the black man. They were just one step above the black man on the social ladder, and they made us feel it. They were all the police, they were the people who broke our balls on a daily basis. Bobby at that time was famously not interested in the Civil Rights Movement…. We knew we were in deep trouble. We were crestfallen, in despair, talking to Martin, moaning and groaning about the turn of events when Dr. King slammed his hand down and ordered us to stop the bitchin’: ‘Enough of this!’ he said. ‘Is there nobody here who’s got something good to say about Bobby Kennedy?’
 
“We said, ‘Martin, that’s what we’re telling ya! There is no one… There is nothing good to say about him. The guy’s an Irish Catholic conservative bad ass, he’s bad news….’
 
“To which Martin replied: ‘Well, then, let’s call this meeting to a close. We will re-adjourn when somebody has found one redeeming thing to say about Bobby Kennedy, because that, my friends, is the door through which our movement will pass.'”
 
… that was a great lesson for me, because what Dr. King was saying was: Don’t respond to caricature — the Left, the Right, the Progressives, the Reactionary. Don’t take people on rumor. Find the light in them, because that will further your cause.
 
— from Bono: In Conversation with Mischka Assayas

 
I have been angry and I have been afraid. But today I am looking for the light, and I hope you will too.

This post is in support of Blog the Vote. Please visit the link to read other folks’ powerful stories and passionate thoughts about voting.

Shake it or break it

Very recently, MTV finally — wait for it — launched a music video website. I swear. It’s such a delight to find out they still actually care about music videos and not just Young People’s Reality (as if) or whatever it is they’re doing over there these days.

The site content is still spotty — some artists go deep, and some aren’t represented at all, which I assume is a matter of rights negotiations. But there is certainly enough to be starting with, and it’s good quality. And it means you’ll probably be getting more music videos for a while (grin) — I already have my eye on a few things (Frankie! Christopher Walken dancing! U2 meets the Village People…)

I saw my first music video in 1983 on a network show called “Friday Night Videos.” No one I knew had cable TV then, so I’d never seen MTV. The first video on the show was “Billie Jean” and I thought it was amazing.

For those of you who have never lacked your MTV, videos were different back in the day. The production values were often minimal, the story lines random, and the musicians uncomfortable. No one really did “live” videos where they just played the music — it was all atmosphere and meaning and moody glances and suchlike. But things improved. By the time the song below came along, videos were more expensive, expansive, and coherent — and much much more about the music.

Yay! Just in time for the B-52’s.

Edited to add: I’ve just been informed that the MTV videos won’t play outside of the US. Controlling bastards. Here’s a YouTube version that will work.

Globalism, people!

I cannot listen to that song without feeling good. And it reminds me so much of things I loved about the South. I have no desire to ever live there again, but the South is in my DNA. There are things I do and believe that are the direct result of growing up there, and there are moments, images, bits of my childhood culture, that I still miss piercingly sometimes. And so I love heading down the Atlanta highway with the B-52’s under a Southern sky and feeling like I get it. Like I belong.

And here’s another treat for you, since there’s hardly ever such a thing as too much good music in the world. Thanks to Duncan for turning me onto Big Mama. And why is a South Korean group called Big Mama? Go find out here… and then send them a psychic blast of You go, girls if you are so inclined. I certainly am.

Like it? Go on over to Duncan’s place for more.

A liberal rant for a Saturday

Good morning, people of the world.

Today I was going to post a cheerful music video (details withheld to prolong the suspense for the next post)… but I just got off the phone with my friend Mark, who pointed me to this little story about his special experience with political campaigns this week.

Warning: it’s totally not non-partisan, and if you are sensitive to criticisms of John McCain you may wish to avoid it. Although if you are a McCain/Palin supporter and can persuade yourself to read beyond the tone of Mark’s post for the factual content, it would interest me to know your response.

Go read. Have fun. Music later. Tea now. Happy Saturday.