KINDLING #2

This is my first solo videocast. Since JC is in final rehearsals of "Scottsboro Boys" before it starts previews at the Vineyard Theatre, he encouraged me to do a show for Air Broadcasting by myself. It's a "live" post, about what still nags me, about reading books on a "Kindle."

BEST BOOKS

Forty-seven-books by Robert B. Parker are on the baker's rack in my living room.

I'm not a book collector. At various times in my life, I've been a voracious reader. I like to read at bedtime, and there's nothing like a Parker to take my mind away from myself, into another plain.

Right off the bat, he gets me into a scene, a world, a character. The language is simple, basic American. The dialogue is easy reading. After page 1, off I go, into the issues at stake for him or her.

Quite by accident, I saw a news flash, heard Robert Parker's name, and learned he died January 18th.
I wrote his name on my "do next" list. And pushed it out of my mind. Much, later, at the end of my work day, I raced upstairs to the baker's rack, to fumble through the row of Parker books, looking for my favorites. The row of his books is almost four feet long.

Though I haven't had time since I began blogging a year ago, to do any re-reading, or to buy the latest Parker, every single book in my row of Parkers was familiar. But, the titles didn't tell me if it was a plot with whats-his-name, or whats-her-name -- and I couldn't remember the name of my favorite, the book I love -- the book I found myself looking for.

Was it. "Deuce" something? No, my favorite Parker book was "Double Play." I raced around checking the shelf next to our bed, ran downstairs to check the shelf in my office. Back upstairs again, I found the book on the bottom shelf of the baker's rack.

I don't have time to re-read it -- not now, not this week. I found myself wanting to know how old author Robert B Parker was , and why he died?

I learned he was at his desk. It probably was a heart attack. He was 77. The pictures of him on the book jackets show that he's overweight, so "heart attack" makes sense.

Parker's most famous detective-self is a guy named Spenser. There are two other Parker detective-selves that I know well, and enjoy -- police chief Jessie Stone and girl/woman Sunny Randall. There are also, on my shelf, nine other Parker books that are novels, not mysteries.

I have re-read all the Parkers. When I re-read, for me it's as if I'm reading a new book. I vaguely remember where the plot is heading, but the unfolding of the plot, the growth of the characters is amazingly interesting -- I feel as if Parker is letting me into himself -- HE is inside the men and the women who are central to his stories.

The dog lover is there, no matter what role the author was playing as he wrote the book. The woman detective Sunny Randall IS Parker. Parker is definitely Spenser the detective, earthy, athletic guy, who drinks a lot, cooks superbly, loves women, is deeply in love with the woman with whom he's more or less living. Spenser knows a lot about psychotherapy, modern dance, ballet, literature, poetry, working out, boxing, hiking, guns, injuries, and survival.

I'm very sorry Robert B. Parker is gone. His footprints are in my mind.

RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE

I saw the title -- the title got to me, not the article in Newsweek, January 18th.

David Wallace-Wells reviewed a new manifesto" by Jaron Lanier called, "You Are Not a Gadget," with wonderfully (or do I mean wondrously) packed sentences that I had to read twice, and even then I wasn't absolutely sure what he meant. So I found another review.

In the New York Post, January 10, "You are Not a Gadget" was reviewed by Larry Getlen who said, "The most popular aspects of Internet life — including Wikipedia, Facebook and digital music — are so detrimental to humanity that they give young people a reduced expectation of what a person can be. That’s the disturbing conclusion of Jaron Lanier, the computer scientist famous for coining the term 'virtual reality.'”

I am howling inside, when I keep seeing Facebook quotes, communiciations, connections, enrollees' super-passionate commitment to Facebooking, Twittering, Linking in, Digging, and more, and more, and more, and MORE.

So now that I have had a peek at Steven Jobs, thrilled and proud of the Apple IPad, the ITablet the world's been waiting for, have a look -- bearing in mind that kids 8 to 18 spend 7.5 hours a day with their media devices. I personally am praying the Apple guys will stop, stop it, stop improving the world with gratuitous IGizmo-Gadgets. HERE'S THEIR NEW BABY!

LENO, LETTERMAN, O'BRIEN

Eeny, meeny, miney -- Jay, Dave, or Conan O?

Leno is easy to watch. He's unpretentious -- a down-to-earth, regular guy, who doesn't work too hard at being funny or clever. If his audience isn't amused, he goes on to the next joke on his script. Leno is what he is -- a nice man, who is also famous.

Back in the days when Leno was doing his show at 11:35 p.m., I liked his chats with ordinary people, who were crossing the street. I didn't have to pay a whole of attention. The questions he asked, the unabashed ignorance of most of the people was pleasantly amusing -- pleasant because of Leno's amused, surprised reaction -- it was as if he sympathized with their ignorance.

In those days, if I was in the mood, I watched Leno.

Letterman's gimmicky stuff -- especially the collegiate-fifties humor of the "top ten," and his exchanges with bandleader, Paul Shaffer bore me. (Sorry Shaffer, but your music, humor, and style are dated.)

Leno's exchanges with his bandleader, Kevin Eubanks, are up-to-date and fun. And Leno's various gimmicks are simpler -- you may laugh or not react, but you enjoy the way Leno enjoys whatever it is, whereas Letterman, when he's participating in the top ten, and other gimmicks, has a dismissive, supercilious tone.

Yes, that's what is -- Letterman laughs at us, when we laugh at his jokes -- Leno laughs with us. Dave seems like someone who's faster, and sharper than you. Jay's more of a friendly, accessible pal.

Because the 10 p.m. Leno show was a wrong time (we start looking for a movie or news at that time), we peeked at Letterman. And then found ourselves hooked on the scandal brewing around him and his girlfriends. Letterman's handling of it made me like him more than I'd ever liked him before.

We didn't watch O'Brien. Letterman (and Leno) are more "our speed" than O'Brien.

About a year ago, we watched O'Brien for a few weeks. I didn't like his dance-step entrance. He seemed like a kid showing off. I didn't like his obeisance with prayerful hands, and the modest braggart, humble bragger airs -- or his gimmicks. I liked his drummer-bandleader, Max Weinberg.

I think NBC's decision -- returning Leno to his old time, paying off O'Brien, has made Leno into a wounded warrior -- not defeated but damaged. He failed at the prime time hour -- and now, somehow, Leno's on the verge of being out of date himself.

And maybe he is.

When Leno returns to 11:35, we may very likely gravitate to Letterman -- It's as if he's on a tightrope, balancing, joking, teetering -- it's relaxing, knowing he might fall, watching him never fall into the abyss.

Times have changed! How many times have I said that, thought it, written that recently? All this is to explain that right now, late night shows -- paying attention to stars, and pretty people -- wondering what's special about them, definitely makes me sleepy. I need the sleep.

Listening to the news jolts me awake.