America: The Band

In 1971, as my elementary school-aged childhood was morphing into the middle school years, I started to pay attention to songs on the radio with more of an ear toward melody and lyrics. Acoustic music allowed those aspects of songs to come through loud and clear. I remember hearing "A Horse With No Name" on the radio and immediately decided that I needed to jump the back fence to the record shop behind our home in Fullerton, a suburb of Los Angeles.

There I was introduced to the group America, and the mysterious album cover featuring the three group members, along with a backdrop photo of three 19th century Native Americans. Somehow I collected enough money to buy the album. As much as I can remember, aside from wanting to be in a band like the Beatles the year before, I wanted to follow the folk-rock music style that was then on the rise in southern California. I decided to become an acoustic guitar player and a singer-songwriter.

At first, everyone mistook America's first single, "A Horse With No Name," for a Neil Young song. (Soon after, I was to learn of Neil and Crosby, Still and Nash, and became a life-long fan as well). By the time America's second album, "Homecoming," was released, just a year later in 1972, I was hooked. Birthday money from my uncle helped me procure this obvious homage to California. "Don't Cross the River" and "Ventura Highway" were my favorites, and the nation's as well. Three more records would be released over as many years.

During high school, I drifted into the sounds of the Eagles and CSN&Y, away from the group America, who ironically got their start as U.S. Air Force brats living in England. (While their fathers served in the Armed Forces, the American high school students--Dan Peek, Dewey Bunnell and Gerry Beckley--met and eventually put together the band).

I have always enjoyed vocal harmony, and I give credit to the guys in America for some of my early musical education. In 1978, Dan Peek, then a new convert to Christianity, decided to leave the band. He released the single, "All Things Are Possible" as a solo artist on a Christian label in 1979. A few years later, Peek released a "Christian" version of his hit song with America, "Lonely People," for which he is best known.

Dewey and Gerry remain a duo to this day, and just released a new America CD on July 26th-- a collection of songs from some of their favorite artists. It is titled "Back Pages." Like their most recent major release, 2007's "Here and Now," "Back Pages" is excellent and worthy of purchase for die-hard America fans and newly acquainted listeners alike.

Coincidentally and ironically, I learned yesterday that Dan Peek passed away in his sleep just a few days prior on July 24th. He was 60. I recently read the biography that Peek wrote about his journey with the group America. I will have to say that after finishing the book, "The America Story," I came away feeling sad. In it, he explained his reasons for leaving the group in it's prime. There is no need, in my opinion, to justify getting away from a toxic lifestyle that led to drug abuse, alcohol abuse and infidelity--no matter how successful the venture.

America is still going strong, and it seems by their excellent record production and full touring schedule, they will be for years to come.

I offer my condolences to the family of Dan Peek. I pray for God's comfort and grace for his wife and father. He had no children.

Relational Collateral

I recently watched, for the second time, the excellent PBS documentary, Inventing L.A.: The Chandlers and Their Times. Since I grew up in greater Los Angeles, I always gravitate to anything related to the history of Orange County (my old stomping ground), Los Angeles and Hollywood. The film first aired in 2009.

The documentary examines the growth of modern-day Los Angeles during the Chandler era at the Los Angeles Times. It also traces the emanation of multi-ethnic, modern Los Angeles during the single-family reign of four publishers at the respected newspaper: Harrison Gray Otis, Harry Chandler, Norman Chandler and Otis Chandler.

The evolution of the newspaper--from it's conservative, anti-union beginnings, to Otis Chanders' ascent as publisher in 1960--came into a new era with the young leaders' desire to create a more liberal-leaning paper, and to appease the East Coast elite who felt, "The Times was regarded as a bad newspaper from a hick town." Otis increased the budget of the paper three fold, allowing it to expand its coverage. The Times then became a critically lauded newspaper. In Otis Chandler's tenure, the paper expanded from two outside offices to 34 foreign and domestic bureaus.

Robert Lloyd, a reviewer of the film for The Los Angeles Times in 2009 wrote, "If there's a hero in the film--albeit a flawed and ultimately failed hero -- it's Otis Chandler. Surfer, bodybuilder, bushy-haired blond Adonis, Otis, who was made publisher in 1960 at age 32, took The Times from a provincial house organ to a nationally respected newspaper. But he alienated conservative family members (and Nixon, who put him on his enemies list) along the way. And when he stepped down as publisher, he went outside the family to hire (Thomas) Johnson (the first non-family publisher in nearly a century and the paper’s fifth publisher). "Otis didn't feel his children were as outstanding as he was," observes his first wife, Marilyn Brant. "Otis didn't like competition from his children."

To add insult to injury, Otis' lifelong friend, Bob Emmet, according to the documentary website, wryly observed, “Otis and his mother (Dorothy Chandler, another major influence in L.A.) were always the victims. It was always somebody else’s fault.”

The most poignant lessons that I brought away from this film were those of friendship, alliances, influence and relational collateral. Along the way Otis succeeded in broadening the paper's appeal, it's readership, as well as a more favorable journalistic reputation among the East Coast elite. In the process though, he alienated his associates, his close friends, and most importantly, his family. He managed to disassociate himself to the point that when he needed support, while the sale of the paper to the Tribune Company of Chicago for $8.3 billion was being leveraged, no one was around for him. His arrogance pushed everyone away. He had no alliances.

John Maxwell says, "Leadership is influence. No more, no less." In his book, Developing the Leader Within You, Maxwell illustrates the degree of influence a leader actually has. You can be a:

• Level 1: Position.
  People follow because they have to.
  
• Level 2: Permission.
  People follow because they want to.
  
• Level 3: Production
  People follow because of what you have done.
  
• Level 4: People Development
  People follow because of what you have done for them.
  
• Level 5: Person-hood
  People follow because of who you are and what you represent
  

The story of Otis Chandler and his family's ascent in the newspaper trade, along with their part in the growth of Los Angeles, illustrates clearly that without relational collateral, true leadership is no where to be found. As the angel wrote to George Baily in It's A Wonderful Life, "Dear George, remember no man is a failure who has friends."

Chandler died at his home in Ojai, California at 78 due to the effects of Lewy body disease.

Cool

What is it that makes cool cool? Why do we make James Dean, Ernest Hemingway, Indiana Jones and Steve McQueen iconic representations of the definition? Cool transcends style, age and riches. Poor folks can be just as cool as the rich guy with a sports car.

Sometimes our own attempt to be cool comes off looking forced--like when we desperately try to keep up with styles and trends--vulnerable to cunning salesmanship. A deep-V-neck t-shirt with a scarf, I recently heard someone say, looks confusing--too hot for sleeves but too cold above the shoulders. Really?

As a resident of the Nashville area, it's fun to watch the tourists invade town with their cowboy outfits, all detailed down to the silver-tipped western boots and leather duster. Even country artists don't wear hats offstage. It's a costume!

Haircuts...don't get me started! When my son in law, Adam, and I visited the Carolinas last week, a dear friend looked at us with our similar hair styles and said, "I didn't get the memo about how to comb my hair today." I could have taken it as an insult, but I refrained from any retribution, knowing that Nashville is cutting edge (wink) and that this week's fashion wave hasn't hit western North Carolina yet. Poor souls (insert a condescending roll of the eyes).

Cool comes in all sizes, colors, ages, genders, and it shows up in every era of history; it isn't a respecter of persons and certainly doesn't tolerate fools. Cool usually happens when we're not trying, when we're not looking in the mirror or self-conscious.

Who knew that "geek" would someday become "sheik." Stick around and you might be cool for 15 seconds. Just don't hang on to the mullet or the Hammer pants you've had in mothballs for 15 years. They will never come back...or will they?

In any event, cool is quiet, brave, doesn't follow the crowd, and doesn't care for your opinion. Cool knows the truth and isn't afraid to live it out. When those qualities go out of style, I guess I'd just rather be old fashioned.

Home Soon

Hospitals, airports and fast-food restaurants are not designed to spend a lot of time in. I have spent my fill in a hospital this week, all to see my dad get a new lease on life.

There is a transient quality about these places. They really aren't a destination, just places we pass through on the way to where we're really headed. Even the decor is designed to not allow us to get too comfortable. The chairs aren't cushy; the colors are dull and uninspiring. The designers are challenged to create spaces that make you want to spend as little time in there as possible--hopefully just enough time to get back on track and into the bustle of life.

So many different stories surround me here in this hospital waiting room tonight. Some families look exhausted, waiting for word on a loved one. Some receive bad news and the pain is painted on each face. I am glad that my dad, though in a very serious predicament with an aortic aneurism, is expected to walk out of this place in a few days--a better, healthier version of himself--ready to travel to his new home in Tennessee with Brenda and me.

I think the greatest destination for me is home. I will go through all kinds of stuff to get there. There's nothing like the first whiff of home after walking in the door from a long trip. I am grateful that at the end of my day, with all of its challenges, I am safe, sound and at rest there.

Thank God I don't have to spend more than a few days here in this transient place. Getting dad home is why I endure. Like with airports, I am fine with them until a flight is delayed and quick journey turns into a burden. I anticipate a quick recovery and a safe trip back to Spring Hill. We'll be home soon.

The Story Wins

With movie-goers these days, a film's value is often measured by the amount of special effects used. But I am a story guy, through and through. So when I see a movie trailer where the special effects compliment a great story, then I might go see it in the theater. Otherwise, I'd rather stay home.

When I buy the blu-ray of a certain movie, its usually because it's a classic, or I want to watch it again several times, and/or for the extra features. Sometimes I am more interested in the special features than the actual movie. That's why in the past, I went on the "cheap" and leaned on Netflix when the blu-ray was released. More recently though, many studios have gotten "wise" and don't include any extras at all with the movie. You have to throw-down big bucks to buy the "combo pack" and get the cool stuff.

When I recently dug back into my Wizard of Oz 70th anniversary blu-ray special features, I was amazed at how practical and down-to-earth the effects were. Of course in 1938, optical effects were limited. But it is amazing how "ahead-of-it's time" the photography looks in the restored version. On my 1080p HD television, the picture is so clear, it looks just as modern as any movie shot yesterday with an HD camera. The great thing about Oz is it's great story. So with the restoration and the new surround sound, it is even more spectacular.

This week, three documentaries focused on the creation of Harry Potter's music, special effects and the overall conceptualization were aired on The Biography Channel, in anticipation of Harry Potter's final installment. A movie so driven by story must ring true to an audience, especially for those millions of readers who have already lived in the Harry Potter world through the books, prior to seeing them played-out on screen. For the producers, directors and technicians of the series, there was a great challenge to remain true to J. K. Rowling's original literary vision. I believe they have succeeded so far--even triumphed.

This summer, many films are completely based on special effects. It also seems that everything is in 3D, too. With that, I am wary and will avoid most of the summer fare. When something like The King's Speech comes in with a great story and amazing acting, I will be there at the Carmike Theater in Franklin--popcorn and all. To me, no matter how spectacular the visuals are, the story wins, every time.

Turning the Page

My dad is built like a tank. At 84 he's made it through life so far without any serious health problems. The majority of time that he's spent in hospitals has been in waiting rooms. Today he is the patient, and I'm the one in the waiting room, hanging out with my son-in-law, Adam.

Since my mother passed away 14 years ago, Pop has been living all by himself most of the time. Brenda, the kids and I moved to North Carolina to be with him for four years after Mom died. (He and Mom moved to the Carolinas from southern California after he retired in 1982). After our tenure in the Carolinas, we decided to move to the Nashville area in 2001, knowing Pop was physically and emotionally able to live by himself.

As I sit here this morning in a Charlotte hospital, waiting for the doctors to put a stint somewhere in his cardiovascular system, my mind is full, thinking about how quick, or not so quickly, he will recover. We are ready to do whatever it takes to give him the best recovery possible. There is yet another surgery that he must endure to insure an aortic aneurism, his primary health issue, is taken care of. I anticipate a full recovery, and hopefully very soon.

Its funny how we as children of aging parents become parents to them at some point. If Pop had it his way, he wouldn't bother us with anything. My dad's health has been stellar so far. So to come upon this "bump in the road" has been a surprise to him. He really is a young man in his heart, although he is well aware of his inability to keep up with younger folks. He will just have to get used to being doted upon and being served for a change. He deserves it!

The reality is: its probably time to turn the page and make provisions for the future. That might mean Brenda and I will host Pop in Tennessee. In any event, he is stubborn and won't give in easily. He's a fighter--that's what has kept him around so long--way past the age of most members of his family. You go, dad!

There Is Hope

I've heard hope defined as "faith holding out its hand in the dark.” When things are bleak, hope can be the only thing that will keep us alive.

Viktor Frankl (March 26, 1905-September 2, 1997), a Holocaust survivor and famous author, said this regarding his book Man's Search for Meaning: "I had wanted simply to convey to the reader by way of concrete example that life holds a potential meaning under any conditions, even the most miserable ones. And I thought that if the point were demonstrated in a situation as extreme as that in a concentration camp, my book might gain a hearing. I therefore felt responsible for writing down what I had gone through, for I thought it might be helpful to people who are prone to despair."

From a Vienna, Austria obituary dated September 3, 1997:

Frankl survived the Holocaust, even though he was in four Nazi death camps including Auschwitz from 1942-45, but his parents and other members of his family died in the concentration camps. During and partly because of his suffering in concentration camps, Frankl developed a revolutionary approach to psychotherapy known as logotherapy. At the core of his theory is the belief that humanity's primary motivational force is the search for meaning, and the work of the logotherapist centers on helping the patient find personal meaning in life, however dismal the circumstances may be.

Frankl said: "There is nothing in the world, I venture to say, that would so effectively help one to survive even the worst conditions as the knowledge that there is a meaning in one's life." According to logotherapy, meaning can be discovered by three ways: "(1) by creating a work or doing a deed; (2) by experiencing something or encountering someone; and (3) by the attitude we take toward unavoidable suffering," he wrote. "We must never forget that we may also find meaning in life even when confronted with a hopeless situation," he insisted, a theory he gradually developed as a concentration camp survivor. "As such, I also bear witness to the unexpected extent to which man is capable of defying and braving even the worst conditions conceivable," he wrote.

Last night I watched an ABC report about the young woman, Jaycee Dugard, who was kidnapped and held in captivity for 18 years until she was rescued on August 26,2009 by law enforcement officials. She was abducted at 11 years of age in June, 1991 by the convicted sex offender and parolee, Phillip Garrido.

To hear Jaycee tell her story is horrifying. With all of the abuse she suffered under the manipulative and evil hands of her captors, she still managed to defy and brave the worst conditions imaginable. She gave birth to two girls during here imprisonment--fathered by Garrido, under the seemingly dismissive eye of his wife. Her daughters were 15 and 11 years old when they were rescued (she was able to school her children in math, history, English and social studies, even with her own limited 5th grade education).

All through her captivity Jaycee would look into the sky and peer at the moon, just as she and her mother did before she was stolen from her Lake Tahoe, California home. On the evening of her freedom, she and her mother, 12o miles apart, both looked into the sky at a full moon and hoped, once again, to be reunited. Just hours would pass from that upward glance until the 18 year separation between mother and daughter would finally come to an end.

Sometimes hope is all we have- maybe a dream or a sliver of purpose in life. But one thing is for sure: our despair does not go unnoticed by God. Even through the darkest days, He is there. May we look up to the sky tonight toward the moon as it shines and pray for strength. There is hope.

Tedeschi Trucks Band: Revelator

About a year and a half ago, Brenda and I were invited to an Allman Brothers concert here in Nashville. I am a huge fan of the old Allman Brothers as well as the more recent guitarists in the band: Warren Haynes and Derek Trucks. I have followed Haynes with Govt. Mule (even met him at the NAMM show in Anaheim a few years ago) and already had a CD of Truck's solo band. So needless to say, I was excited to see them play together that night. I was especially taken with Derek Truck's fluidity on the slide guitar. He barely moved and remained expressionless as he played, but the fire coming off of his fingers was blinding. Trucks was the "stand-out" at the concert.

I wasn't as familiar with Susan Tedeschi. Other than articles in guitar magazines and ads for her recordings, I only knew that she was an great blues player and singer.

I recently downloaded the Tedeschi Trucks Band "Revelator" CD. Learning that Tedeschi and Trucks were a married couple, I was curious just how their music would meld. Tedeschi's vocals are superb, reminding me of Bonnie Raitt. She's capable of going head to head with any R&B artist out there--white or black. Along with a stellar band and her husband's masterful guitar playing, Tedeschi has a great platform from which to shine. The record is filled with wonderfully written songs, and there's not a dud in the bunch (with a couple of hidden surprises, too!). The warm yet punchy mix is so smooth--like I'm listening to a great 70s record--only hiss-free, super tight and in high definition. There is a good blend of electric and acoustic music here, too.

The couple are assisted by a gathering of various musicians from each of their solo bands, specially assembled for this new venture. I read that they both were tired of traveling in separate bands, sometimes spending weeks apart from their two children and each other. So they disbanded their solo efforts and joined forces in 2010 to form the Tedeschi Trucks Band. "Revelator" came out in January, 2011.

This is a CD that stands out, head and shoulders, above most projects in the crowded release schedule this year. The effort is not a "look at me," self-indulgent guitar fest, but balanced--filled with great tones, tunes, grooves and singing. In short, it's a gumbo-meets-delta-meets-Stax-meets-southern rocking delight!

Playing With Truth

I just put the finishing touches on a new recording by the group Truth. They are doing a 40th anniversary tour this fall and, through the arranging and production leadership of Steven V. Taylor, Truth will have this project available at their merchandise table during the tour. I am honored to add my guitar playing to this project. Back in the early 80s I played with Truth for two and a half years. So its poetic that I have the opportunity to "join" them one last time on this recording.

I started my journey with Truth after spending three years with American Entertainment Productions. In AEP, I learned the entertainment skills that are necessary to hold an audience's attention (For those who have done outside fairs and other such venues, these particular audiences are a challenge to get focused, for any length of time). In the group Truth, I learned about ministering to the Church and the many denominational challenges that exist. I owe a lot to Truth's leader, Roger Breland, as he, unlike any other, has an incredible skill with audiences. We were able to see hundreds come to Christ during my tenure, and many more up until they did their last concert on June 16, 2002 in Nashville.

Truth, at that point, was 31 years old. Roger had taken it as far as it could go. He went on to become the the Director of the Center for Performing Arts at the University of Mobile in Alabama (my Alma mater). Presently, under Roger's leadership, the university has 15 performing ensembles and has presented concerts to audiences in local churches, conventions, The White House and Europe. God has really used Roger in a great way and I think this 40th anniversary tour is a great way to remind the Church of just that.

Information on the tour can be found at the Truth40 website. I am proud to continue my connection with Roger Breland and Truth. I pray God's blessings on the tour. The kids that Roger has chosen to participate have no idea that, like me, in 30 years they will still be talking about the experience!

The Fantastic 4th of July!

Today was one of the most anticipated days for me as a kid: Independence Day. It still is! As I wake this morning, we are staying with my brother Jon in Birmingham, Alabama, thousands of miles from our home town of Fullerton, California. Back on the West Coast when we were growing up, the few weeks preceding the 4th were filled with anticipation. It began as the various firework stands around our neighborhood would be assembled each year.

Black Cat, Freedom and Red Devil were the three rival firework brands that prayed on the fantasies of young kids like me growing up in the 60s. Families were loyal to their brands (for some reason, I remember ours being Freedom fireworks). One year, the church we (barely) attended sponsored a Freedom stand, and I was able to help fill bags with fiery delights. I also had the privilege of reaching up to the rear shelf and bringing down the mammoth-sized boxes filled with various stuff that could cost up to $30. That was a boat-load of money back then to put out on an event that was over in 30 minutes. I remember our neighbors down the street. They always bought the super-duper family box; all eyes were peeled when they started lighting their stash. In fact, social prominence on our street was governed by how many fireworks you lit on the 4th, and if you had a pool in your back yard.

On the morning after the 4th, remnants of the previous night's fun littered the streets. There were several dark circles on sidewalks in front of our homes. Also, there was evidence of "snakes" that, when lit, would slither out of the flame like a black cheese puff. We always had a plethora of sparklers, and the used metal sticks were strewn everywhere. Burnt-out cones and gnarled pieces of charred cardboard were left on driveways to be picked-up when daylight made the damage easier to see.

Where I live today, we are allowed to set-off serious fireworks--stuff that the Fullerton police would arrest us for back in the 60s! In Tennessee, as in most of the South, bottle rockets, firecrackers and light-up-the sky kind of displays are legal and sold everywhere. These flying, exploding wonders trump the old days in California, I'll have to admit.

It was always sad to see the firework stands come down. It was kind of like the day after Christmas for me. I did have one thing to look forward to in the week ahead, and that was my birthday on July 10th. This year it'll be 51 for me, but I'm still a kid at heart when it comes to the fantastic 4th of July!

Retracing the Tracks of Life

Today Brenda was looking through some photos that she wanted to put on her "magic" frame--you know, the ones that play photos on a video screen. She found some pictures from when we all went to California for a week, just before Josh was to start his first year of school. There we were at Disneyland: Brenda and I in our 90s hair, and the kids hugging Mickey. The memories come flooding back. And as I celebrate the passing time and the blessings of family and friends, I wonder if there were things that I could have done, as a dad and husband, to make our lives even better.

This week I spent a lot of time in my studio recording. I am the guitar player, the engineer and the editor since producers look to me to bring the whole kit and caboodle. Even after I record the individual guitar parts, I go back through each track to make sure they are clean and that no outside noises or unwanted material remains. I do cross-fades, zero-out dead space and combine each piece into a whole. I do the same process for every guitar track before I send out the finished product to the various people I work with. This process takes a lot of time. I have to make several decisions on the spot, make fixes if necessary, and move on to the next several seconds of audio. In order to keep going, I need to trust the little decisions I make along the way. And by the time I get to the end of each track, I make one last scan over the whole thing before committing. I record songs that require ten guitar parts sometimes. So to not waste time, I must learn to trust my instincts as I go along.

This process of retracing my guitar tracks applies to life. We could spend an inordinate amount of time second guessing our decisions. But if we make good decisions along the way--little insignificant ones, at least in the broad scheme--they all add up to a great life with no regrets. Yes, I wish for a lot of things: maybe that I could have gone in other directions with my career. But I know that the small choices I made were the right ones. So I have to trust myself and God Who guides me.

I am so proud of the way my family has grown. Brenda is my chief blessing in life. As we all travel down to Birmingham for the 4th to see my brother Jon and his family, I am so grateful that Josh and Betsy, along with their spouses, will join us. Man, how time flies!