Ten things I absolutely like about Hardly Strictly Bluegrass.

1) It’s free. Thank you Warren Hellman. This is a magnificent new chapter for free concerts in Golden Gate Park. In a few more years, it may be an entire novel.

2) The name. Kindly, oddly… perfect.

3) The weather this year. Sunshine all day Saturday and Sunday. While acoustic Hot Tuna was playing, Jack happened to mention that he had played in Golden Gate park 40 years ago, and it was ‘cold as hell’. Jorma replied that he couldn’t possibly remember something from 40 years back, and Jack agreed that he ‘must have read it somewhere’.

4) The crowd. I don’t think I saw one argument. Everyone was steeped in kindness. Perhaps that’s partly but not hardly because of…

5) The cops. No one was hassled for smoking pot. No one was searched. Everyone was allowed to bring in anything they could carry, including food, wine, or homemade bathtub gin. I didn’t see anyone stumbling drunk, and the medical tents were empty.

6) The music. Considering the cost of the invisible ticket that everyone had, the lineup was beyond stellar. My own high points: Elvis Costello with Emmylou Harris and T-Bone Burnett. Richard Thompson who played like a man on a mission. Steve Earl, who kept telling us that whenever the Blue Angels flew by overhead we should all give them the finger. Most of us did for the rest of the weekend. Hot Tuna acoustic. In the bright sunlight reflecting off the lovely old trees in the park you could let your mind wander and it almost felt like 1967. Except Jorma is sober now. Still playing like a master though. Todd Snider whom I had never seen before, but is a very funny guy who simply writes songs about the crazy shit that’s going on all around him. And us. Gillian Welch who also sat in with Bob Weir and the Waybacks at the end of Sunday’s show on the Arrow Stage. Her version of ‘China Doll’ during her own set on Saturday completely took me by surprise. You never know who’s going to turn out to be a Deadhead.

7) The five stages. It’s one thing to do a free show in the park. It’s quite another to have five stages going all weekend long. It keeps people spread out so one place is never too crowded. It enables you to catch more music. It makes the whole thing a bunch more fun.

8) No logos. No corporate banners hanging anywhere. Nobody selling much of anything except some pretty good food. How often do you see this combination anywhere?

9) I want to mention how well the whole drug thing was handled once again. The sheriff with a cattle prod up his ass in Quincy, California should take a lesson from the city of SF. He lines up all his local low- IQ cop buddies and makes as many pot arrests as he can during the High Sierra Music Festival. It makes everybody crazy. It brings down the whole vibe of the Fest. It makes no sense. It's only been happening a couple of years, and it should stop. Thank you San Francisco for setting the standard, once again. Damn, it's good to live here.

10) The quality of the songwriting. I must have heard at least five new tunes about the war in Iraq. Richard Thompson's 'Dad's gonna kill me'. (short for Baghdad) had to be the best of the bunch. Folk songs have a way of reminding you about right and wrong. Do we still need reminders about this war? Evidently, we do.

It may be inconvenient, but it's true.

I just got back from seeing "An Inconvenient Truth". I have three words of advice for those concerned about the future of the planet and all the species on it including our own: See This Movie. I thought I had a fairly good understanding of the ramifications of global warming, but it turns out I was missing huge pieces of the puzzle. From the reactions of others in the nearly sold-out theater, I think I wasn't the only one.

This issue, in case you've been preoccupied with what we're constantly fed by the mass media regarding terrorism, avian flu and Mexicans wanting to move into exclusive gated communities is in fact THE ISSUE OF OUR TIME. Everything else simply pales in comparison to what happens when the temperature of the earth climbs.

The most important thing regarding this film now is that it is seen by people other than liberals. We already know how liberals are going to vote regarding climate change. They're sitting in the zippy little Prius next to you on the freeway. The car with the peace sign and the bumper sticker that reads "Somewhere in Texas there's a village missing an idiot." But I digress.

It's really important that we get our more conservative family members and friends out to see this movie because a) it will change their behavior regarding carbon emissions, b) they'll have to think very hard before voting for anyone who doesn't put the environment at the top of the list, and c) there are a hell of a lot more of them then us. This last point is something my friends in northern California have trouble remembering because just about everyone they know has a custom-made vaporizer and spends half the day downloading live music files.

Getting those on the right side of the political spectrum to go see this film won't be easy because the word is already out that this movie "stars" non other than Al Gore. And in the minds of conservatives everywhere Al Gore is a) a died-in-the-wool liberal and b) a loser. Corporative executives don't like to take advice from people they consider to be losers. It's simply bad form. This is why they'll watch something as inane as "The Apprentice". No matter how insipid and uninspiring Donald Trump may be, he's a "winner" because he's a gazillionaire. This may sound like exaggeration, but it's true. More people in this country vote for candidates on "American Idol" than they do for President, but that's a topic for another blog. This one is more important right now. The ice caps are melting. Species are dying. Much worse is on the way, unless we change.

You'll have to remind them that this particular issue, the one that pretty much determines whether there's a future for the human race or not, transcends party affiliation. If Ronald Reagan came back from the dead to host this film I would still go see it and support it. If Ann Coulter were making the case... well, ok maybe not. We all have our limitations. Anyway, the point is we have to get as many people as humanly possible to go see this movie. Why? Because it's desperately needed education disguised as entertainment. And people in America will sit down for entertainment. You may have seen this behavior yourself. It's called "watching tv."

So this is my plea. Go see the film, and get as many conservatives as you can to go see it, too. Meantime, keep doing all the low-carbon emission stuff. Recycle. Walk. Ride a bike. Buy biodeisel. Support green companies. Boycott those that aren't. Conserve energy in the home. Vote. Elect candidates who will support the Kyoto Accords as a starting point. Harass people who continue to drive those goddamn gas-guzzling SUV's to the grocery store for a quart of milk. Tell them to fill their land yachts with all of their wealthy, influential friends and take a ride over to the movie theater to see "An Inconvenient Truth". It might be the most important thing you do this year. For them, and you.

Will New Orleans rise again?

If New Orleans were a bed -- a fairly apt metaphor to begin with -- it would be perpetually rumpled and unmade. Probably smoking a cigarette. And walking into a bar like the Chartres House Café in the French Quarter where vodka and tequila are served on tap. It certainly wouldn’t be in any kind of hurry. Although as of now, in early May of 2006, it might also be looking for a place to live.

“Experts agree that breakfast is the most important meal of the day and nothing says breakfast in New Orleans like a good drink.” -- Old Coffeepot Restaurant

The first post-Katrina JazzFest is happening in the Big Easy, and this time around it’s different. “There’s a drunk guy who’s really being a pain in the ass at table four, and I just can’t handle him anymore,” said the clearly shaken waiter to the manager at a restaurant in the Quarter. Susan, the manager, told him she’d find someone else to take care of table four. A number of people who have stuck it out here are living right on the edge, and it’s fairly apparent that right now it won’t take all that much to push them over.

“It is possible that Katrina was the largest hurricane of its strength to approach the United States in recorded history; it’s sheer size caused devastation over 100 miles from the center.”’ -- Wikipedia

Over 75% of the city was destroyed by a hurricane that swept into town eight months ago, but what the locals can’t get a fix on is why the recovery is taking so goddamn long. In the poorer black neighborhoods, it looks very much like recovery may never arrive at all. There is no way to understand what this place is like now without having a look for yourself. All of the images on TV simply don’t give you the real story. It may be too brutal for most Americans to want to know what is really going down here.

The real story is that the poorer neighborhoods are like ghost towns. At night, no light comes from the houses because nobody’s home. Restoration moves at a snail’s pace, and is happening only because of charitable efforts outside of those provided by any government agency. Every small service in these neighborhoods, everything we take for granted as part of life -- every bakery, auto repair shop, hair salon, tavern, dentist’s office, bar, take out food place, doughnut shop, corner convenience store and rib joint is simply… gone. So even if you had a place to move back into, there wouldn’t be anything around that would make it practical for you to stay. There’s simply no support system in place.

The real story is that our federal government knows that it’s much more profitable for a handful of prestigious American companies to wage a prolonged war. One in a distant, third world country with no defined enemy other than “terrorists” and “insurgents” that can go on as long as it remains profitable. There is no profit in helping impoverished United States citizens reclaim condemned structures so they can them turn them back into something that could possibly be called home.

The real story is that companies such as Raytheon, Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman, United Technologies, Halliburton and GE collectively made billions of dollars destroying the infrastructure of Iraq. And now companies such as Halliburton, Bechtel, Aegis, KPMG and Lockheed Martin are collectively making billions attempting to put all the pieces back together again. Never mind that tens of thousands had to die along the way. We’re talking real money here, and from what I can see that’s left of New Orleans, that’s what matters today.

The irony for New Orleans is that if we had paid some of our very capable military-industrial giants to blow it up (or blow it down) we would have also had to pay the clean up crew to come in afterwards and bring things back to normal. Kind of like Berlin after WWII. But because New Orleans was taken out by the biggest storm surge in history – by mother nature – evidently no one in Washington has a clue what to do. For months and months, not a clue. Bush comes here to pay a visit, then gets on a plane and goes home. The destroyed, abandoned homes remain destroyed and abandoned.

So here we are in the middle of this, at JazzFest. Remarkably, the French Quarter is on relatively high ground, so the tourist center remains intact. It’s almost possible to go from the Quarter to the fairgrounds where the music happens without taking in the devastation. Almost, but not quite. You still have to pass by a hell of a lot of homes where nobody lives anymore.

Speaking of living, rents in this part of Louisiana have doubled and tripled in the past few months. That’s because there is so little housing left. Which has implications. Most people who want to return can’t afford to. And all the people who work in the hotels, restaurants, and Fest-related jobs can’t afford the new high-end rents either. So waitresses work double and triple shifts six days a week. People commute to minimum wage jobs from very far away. This is what happens in resort communities when rising housing prices force out the locals. Right now, this is what's happening in New Orleans, too.

Three weeks before the Festival, they still didn’t have electric power out at the fairgrounds. All the tickets were sold, all the hotel reservations made, but no juice for the music. And then, a week or two later, power was restored. People came. A hell of a lot of people came. Which says something for how a lot of us feel about New Orleans. If you truly love music, it’s very hard not to love this town. Where I come from – San Francisco – people carry massage tables out on the streets. In New Orleans, people carry cups of beer. It’s different here. There’s a spell that permeates everything. It’s less refined. Less pretentious. Less hectic. As much in the body as in the mind. More playful. Less judgmental. More how life should be. Of course, the real question is what will New Orleans be when it recovers?

“New Orleans is the most religious place I have ever been, even though much of the population is profoundly profane, pagan and steeped in the seven deadly sins and some others not even listed.” - Tom Piazza

Oh. And then there was the music. This was the first weekend of JazzFest after all. We were here to listen to the music and dance, right? We knew that the town had been almost obliterated, but we were here to get a buzz on and maybe get lucky and have fun… right? This question rambled through my mind like a streetcar running east and west under a crescent moon. Is it OK to let loose and have fun in a place where so many have been so monstrously tested? How would you feel if poisoned water surged down the street and then rose up to cover the roof of your home? And then no one came for a week or so? And then nothing was happening in your neighborhood eight months later?

So, in response to all this, the musicians played. And they played as though they understood that one of the most important powers that music has (among its many) is the power to heal. The power to lift people above what appear to be dire circumstances. Plague. Pestilence. Famine. Flood. Heartbreak. Lack of faith. Hurricanes. And there was one who came here and understood that his role was to be preacher to masses. And he decided, you know, it just might be time to rise to the occasion. Because it was certainly clear that no one else was honestly doing that. There were a number of brilliant performances, but something hard to pin down was missing. Something spiritual. Something having to do with salvation and redemption. So perhaps Bruce thought, OK, I’ll do it. And the mind-blowing performance that followed was a result of someone consciously making the decision to give what was so very badly needed.

Bruce Springsteen’s new band was, to put it mildly, astounding. All 20 members played as if this was their last time to make music on earth, even though it was in fact, the large ensemble’s first official performance. It was no small coincidence that the songs of Pete Seeger they played happen to be about faith, suffering, and overcoming insurmountable odds. It was the perfect set at precisely the right moment in time. There was one rather appropriate Springsteen song as well:

"There’s a blood red circle, on the cold dark ground
And the rain is falling down, The church doors blown open.
I can hear the organ’s song. But the congregation’s gone.
My city of ruins. My city of ruins
Now the sweet veils of mercy. Drift through the evening trees.
Young men on the corner. Like scattered leaves.
The boarded up windows. The hustlers and thieves.
While my brother’s down on his knees.
My city of ruins. My city of ruins
Come on rise up! Come on rise up!
Now there’s tears on the pillow. Darling where we slept.
And you took my heart when you left. Without your sweet kiss
My soul is lost, my friend. Now tell me how do I begin again?
My city’s in ruins. My city’s in ruins.
Now with these hands. I pray lord.
With these hands. For the strength lord.
With these hands. For the faith lord.
With these hands. I pray lord.
With these hands. For the strength lord.
With these hands. For the faith lord
With these hands. Come on rise up!
Come on rise up! Rise up."

- My City of Ruins, Springsteen

It was hundreds of years of black culture that made New Orleans what it was. The intermingling of African heritage with French and Cajun traditions that gave the city its musical heritage, its spirituality, its cuisine, its comprehension of mortality, and the soul that has all but vanished from every other American metropolis. But now that the nation’s leaders have turned their backs on the disenfranchised black citizens of New Orleans—the very purveyors of the culture who made the city unique – it’s hard to tell what the next incarnation of this magical place will resemble.

In five years, it could look a lot more like a theme park. It could be a hell of lot whiter. Recorded music might play from tinny speakers in sanitized bars filled with unknowing tourists, rather than out on the streets by living musicians. The descendants of the people who created it. Who knows where they will be?

Golden Movie

This is a bit of a departure for me -- but what the hell. I've been trying to figure out what makes the new Neil Young movie "Heart of Gold" so powerful, and here's where I net out. I think Neil had it in his head -- no pun intended -- that this might have been his last performance. The fact that he was scheduled to have brain surgery about 10 days after the actual concert is made reference to, but certainly not dwelled upon. Nevertheless, to me this feels like it could have been a "farewell performance". Like something that Warren Zevon might have done, but didn't have the strength to pull off in the end (he devoted himself to putting out two great final albums instead).

As Neil has aged, he has become more zen. Calmer. More intuitive. Less upset with the world. More focused on his art. And now with the recent death of his father, and his own impending aneurysm surgery, mortality is in plain sight. The Buddhists say that death approaches like a speeding bullet, and sometimes I believe we have the feeling we can see it coming. So what does Neil do? He writes some great new songs, gets a bunch of old friends together -- emphasis on the word "old" -- and has Jim Jarmusch film the performance in Nashville. Why there? Well, it appears that the ghost of Hank Williams is also one of the motivating spirits behind the Prarie Wind story, so why not?

What has always made Neil Young great, and why he continues to be that way is there is absolutely no bullshit. None. This guy is a complete straight shooter. And whereas Dylan can take an emotion and turn it lyrically inside out so often you're never quite sure what the heck he's saying, Neil just tells you what he thinks: "I've seen you in my nightmares, and I've seen you in my dreams. And I could live a thousand years before I know what that means".

Neil has always found a way to get lost inside the performance of his songs. And that quality is captured simply and beautifully here by Jarmusch and his cinematographer Ellen Kuras. But this film is also a kind of soliloquy on the reality of getting older. Practically everyone on the stage started out playing music when both they and rock and roll were very young. Revolution was in the air. There was nothing to lose, and lots to shoot for. But Young, Emmylou Harris, Ben Keith and Neil's wife Pegi have seen a lot of water pass under the bridge. You can see the decades of experience in their faces. Jackson Browne called it "the quiet resignation that living brings", and I can't do much better than that.

There's some joy in this film, but not in abundance. Instead, for lack of something more descriptive what's most evident is a combination of pride and humility. An exploration of what life might mean. The recognition that this music may not be the most important thing on earth, but then again, it ain't nothing either. You might want to compare it with what you've been doing for the past thirty years or so. Or maybe that's pushing it a bit. Either way, as Neil says "Don't be denied". And if you get the chance, go see this movie.

Just say no to alpha males & change the world.

Lately I keep returning to thinking about why things are as unacceptable as they are in regard to the evolution of human beings and more importantly, the state of the planet. The two are inexorably linked, so perhaps you've been wondering about this, too. It seemed like we were off to a really good start at making substantial changes for the better during the end of the 1960's through the mid-70's. It felt like there was a realization that greed and self-aggrandizement were causing a hell of a lot of problems. It felt like people were waking up. Nixon resigned. The war in Vietnam ended. Not everyone wanted to be a millionaire. The future looked reasonably bright. It was a good time to be alive.

Today I see a fair amount of younger people embracing change, finding more spirituality in their lives, seriously questioning the nine-to-five corporate lifestyle and willing to work to save the environment. But my concern is that they are still in the minority. I live just outside of San Francisco and it's easy to forget that for every person who is careful to recycle, use less resources and eat organic food there are hundreds who are oblivious. They read "People" magazine and watch reality TV shows. They shop at the mall whenever they get the chance. Their primary focus is on making more money, having a family and buying more stuff. It's the individual at the expense of the community.

So, I'm trying to figure out how we can break this cycle? How can we cause a substantial, irreversible paradigm shift not just in this country but throughout the world? The answer, I believe, is that women can make this happen. But perhaps not in a way that you might think of immediately. Allow me to explain.

My proposition is that the majority of the world's most substantial problems are caused by alpha males. This is nothing new. Alpha males are the ones who believe they are the rightful heirs to the lion's share of whatever the planet has to offer. They are kings and board members and senators and presidents and so on. They live in great big houses in exclusive neighborhoods. They fly off to vacation homes. They drive gas-guzzling vehicles like Hummers and BMW's and Porches. (Wanna-be alpha males drive Corvettes) "Have you seen the little piggies, leading piggy lives?" - George Harrison. Like it or not, they are in control. Think of men like Dick Cheney or Ken Lay or Ray Welch. They do a hell of a job for themselves and a few other alpha male associates (it's a network) and a horrible one for just about everyone else. When the salary of the CEO is 10,000 times that of someone who works in the factory, something is very very wrong.

So here's my proposition: Women of the world (and naturally, some men as well) need to stop having sex with alpha males. Refuse them something they believe comes by birthright. Take away one of the things that defines their power. Show them that we are determined as human beings to cause a sea change. That's it. Once the alpha males have been deprived of sexual congress they will no longer be held in high esteem by societies everywhere, paving the way for something entirely new. Leaders who by their very nature are not so obsessed with having the biggest yacht in the damn harbor. Imagine people working for the good of the many rather than the privileged few.

This won't be easy. Alpha males have traditionally been able to talk their way into having sexual relations with just about anyone. It's one of the primary reasons they became alpha males -- that, and because it gives them time to play golf. Think of the football captain in high school or that astonishingly good-looking lead actor in the most recent blockbuster. Alpha males are traditionally attractive, persuasive, confident and what's worse is they can buy you just about anything you want. Especially if they want to seduce you. Does the name Tiffany ring a bell? They have titles like doctor and lawyer and Mr. Ambassador. They run the banks and the oil cartels and weapons companies. They're the boisterous and well-to-do devil on your right shoulder while the more modest angel sits on your left and shakes her head.

But of course, the good news is this doesn't mean no sex. It just means no sex for the guys who have never had any trouble getting it. So instead of being interesting in what kind of hot car your date drives, ask to see his compost pile. Find out if he's ever participated in any kind of demonstration against the war. Tell him you get turned on by yoga, poetry, vegetarians and chanting. If you have any question at all whether or not a guy you'd like to go to bed with is an alpha-male, don't worry about it. Alpha-males constantly broadcast their "alpha-superiority", so just the fact that you aren't sure means he's ok.

Since alpha males almost inevitably require a trophy girlfriend or wife, it's critical that this movement take firm root with women that societies find "most attractive". In ours, that means anyone who has ever been or has even thought about being a model. If we can get the models to "just say no" to the guy with the Armani suit and diversified stock portfolio, we just might save the world. Because when beautiful women refuse to sleep with alpha males, it WILL cause them to change their behavior. Honestly, they won't last long. If I could think of something else that would work, like a slap in the face or a kick in the ass, I'd suggest that. But those things have been tried. It's time for something more drastic. It's up to the women of the world now.