Our Kids' Lives: Regimented and Expensive

I spend a boatload of cash each year for my son to do something I did for free as a kid. And it annoys the crap out of me.

On Facebook a friend of mine recently posted the following article from the Washington Post:  “I send my kids to sleep-away camp to give them a competitive advantage in life.” These kind of headlines are meant to elicit a response. One camp might be thinking, “Holy crap. I’ve never sent my kids to over-night camp. Could I be denying his opportunity to get into an Ivy League school?” Another camp might think, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Whatever happened to sending kids to camp so that they have a great time?” 

The content of the essay is more thoughtful than the headline, and the takeaway is this: some of the basic things we did as kids for fun may have been beneficial for us in ways we didn’t even know, and it might behoove us as parents to – as the author Laura Clydesdale writes – opt out of the "things-to-put-on-the-college-application arms race.” Instead of creating walking, talking resumes, why not nourish thoughtful, creative, independent human beings? That’s really the goal. The fact that a thoughtful, creative and independent human being will invariably have a competitive edge over robotic peers is icing on the cake.

Several years ago I read an excellent book called “The Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit disorder.” In it author Richard Louv creates a compelling case for allowing our children to break out of the regimented lifestyles we’ve created for our kids – much of it indoors – and instead give them more access to nature, which not only feeds a child’s development, but can also help alleviate symptoms of ADD, obesity and other widespread ailments of today’s children. Even something as basic is going camping as a family can provide a huge benefit for children, and ultimately provide a huge benefit for nature, as people who have a relationship with nature are far more likely to fight to save it. Time spent at a camp, where a kid can break away from wired worlds, take some time to reflect, and experience activities that are foreign to a life in the city or suburbs, can be as mentally and physically beneficial as it is downright fun.

Now, here’s my beef with all of this. Today, every activity our children are engaged in seems to be planned and administered by adults, and overnight camp is of course no exception. This also means it costs money.

My son plays drums in a band. I played keyboard in a band when I was a teenager. In my son’s band, adults pick the players, adults pick the songs, adults pick who plays on which songs, adults provide the equipment, adults plan the gigs and adults provide logistics. In my band, adults did nothing except provide a space for practice and offer an occasional ride. My son’s band costs me thousands of dollars a year. My band cost me nothing except an occasional headache as we tried to figure out the lyrics to songs pre-Internet.

I learned a lot by being in a band with other teenagers. I learned how to compromise, I learned how to not overplay (though this took several years), I learned about how to get along with different types of people, and I learned about my limitations as a performer, as a musician, and – at times – as a human being. My son has learned some of these things too, but nothing that he’s experienced can compare to sitting in a room with four other musicians and saying, “Okay. We need to learn thirty songs and find a gig so that we can play them. Ready?” There’s no doubt in my mind that my experience was richer and more developmental than my son’s has been.

Similarly, I never went to camp as a child. But I did ride my bike constantly, I walked my dog through the expansive fields behind the middle school near my home, and I played in numerous forests in my hometown, where I would make up games with my friends, climb trees, get into arguments, injure myself or others, and – on a particularly lucky day - discover a Penthouse that a classmate kept hidden in the hallow of a tree. Again, I did this for free. And as cool and rich as my children’s camp experiences have been all these years, I’m not sure the adult-supervised activities provided the same benefit as my independent ventures did.

What’s particularly problematic is this: unless you reach critical mass, “opting-out” simply means your kid spends time alone (which does have some benefits but also its limitations). I would like my son to quit his organized, adult-supervised band, but unless I can convince other parents to do the same, it will lead to a band of one. Not so much fun. Breaking away from regimentation only works when you convince others to do the same.

So what’s the answer? Well, I am going to make a concerted appeal to the parents of my son’s band to quit organized music and have our sons and daughters move forward on their own. Will I be successful? I kind of doubt it. But our kids know how to play their instruments, they know fellow musicians, and now it’s time to sink or swim. My son will be richer for it, and if I succeed, so will his parents.

Why I'm Boycotting this year's Olympics

Short answer? Because it's a cesspool of corruption. But by that measure I should also be boycotting American politics, professional sports and financial investing. 

No, there are a multitude of reasons. I just finished reading Daniel James Brown's bestseller, Boys in the Boat, a fabulous read about the University of Washington rowing team who raced for gold at the 1936 summer Olympics in Berlin, and in it Brown deftly interweaves events on both sides of the Atlantic, including the enormous efforts Germany took to promote its less unseemly side. In short, the whole event was a ruse - a propaganda stunt - to show the world just how civilized the Germans were in the midst of increasing international scrutiny. And to a lesser extent, that's what the Olympics have been ever since. Whether it's the Sochi Winter Games of 2014 or the 2008 Summer Games in Beijing, the Olympics have become - in the words of reporter Binyamin Appelbaum from his 2014 New York Times piece - "a debutante’s ball for emerging economies." You can bet if Chicago had won the right to host the 2016 Olympics, they would have steered people clear of the poor, crime-ridden areas of Chicago and diverted funds (what funds? Illinois is broke!) from wherever politicians could get their grubby little hands on. You can also bet that my family and I would be someplace other than Chicago for the next two weeks. (Would someone have paid good money to rent a 90 year-old bungalow fifteen miles west of The Loop?)

CBS news recently published an on-line piece called "Why hosting the Olympics is a Terrible Idea," and in it they describe the familiar plagues associated with hosting an Olympic games, from stifling debt to environmental disasters to taking funds from more important concerns. Cities are beginning to take note. While eleven cities bid on the 2004 summer Olympics, only five offered to host the 2020 games. True, sometimes concerns about an upcoming Olympics are overblown, but the bottom line is hosting the Olympics is expensive, and according to aforementioned New York Times piece, there's no evidence to suggest that the economies of host cities benefit from the brief, worldwide attention.

Which brings us to an interesting Op Ed piece in the Washington Post about holding the Olympics in the same city every four years. Paul Glastris cites a recent study by the University of Oxford that concluded "every Summer and Winter Olympics from 1960 to 2016 experienced massive cost overruns averaging 156 percent." Glastris concludes that rather than allowing cities to make the same rookie mistakes every four years, we should "pick a city or country to be the permanent host — one each for the Summer and Winter Olympics." The International Olympic Committee will likely come to a different conclusion.

And then there are of course other issues, from the 2002's Olympic bid scandal, this year's Russian Olympic ban, the refusal of countries to boycott Olympics hosted by oppressive regimes, the disparity of investment between rich and poor countries, the taking advantage of the poorer among us. The whole enterprise is a reminder of the world's haves and have-nots, and the Olympics should be anything but that.

So I'm boycotting this year's Olympics. Sure, I remember long summer days in 1984 when I'd wake up, leave the TV on from morning until night, fall in love with Mary Lou Retton and watch Carol Lewis kick butt and take names. Fond memories. But it's 2016, and reality is simply this: I've got other shit that needs to get done.

Peter Gabriel and Sting at Milwaukee's Summerfest

When I saw Peter Gabriel and Sting perform at the Marcus Amphitheater in ’87 and ’88, respectively, to imagine seeing them perform together 29 years later with my adult twin girls (and my sister!) in attendance would have been way too bizarre to contemplate. I could barely be expected to attend class on a regular basis much less successfully raise two children (and now very close on the third). How cool that both musicians are still around on tour, but cooler still that they managed to pull off a very entertaining and fulfilling show as a double bill. It could have been oh so lame, but it was anything but.

Though the stars shared the number of songs performed, I couldn’t help but think that this was a Peter Gabriel show with Sting in tow, and I have to give credit to Mr. Sumner for being such a gracious musician on stage. Gabriel opened with “Rhythm of the Heat,” a track I never expected to hear live in my lifetime, and the power exhibited during the finale of the tune was such that even Sting’s powerhouse “If I Ever Lose My Faith In You” that followed sounded thin by comparison. That’s not a knock on Sting. That’s a recognition that when it comes to majestic, heartfelt performances, Gabriel likely has no equal. 

Following the two opening numbers, Gabriel, after a joking reference to the body shapes of the two singers (yeah, Sting wins, and beats just about every male in attendance), announced that the bands and the stars themselves would commingle throughout the evening. Up to fourteen musicians graced the stage, with several staying put for most of the show while others exited and entered or combined, and not always with allegiance to their usual band. From where I was sitting, I at first thought that Sting was handling all the bass parts, but then from behind a large pole that obstructed part of the stage, I saw the unmistakable silhouette of Tony Levin as Gabriel began 1992’s “Digging in the Dirt,” and my girls were equally thrilled to see David Rhodes, the guitarist they loved watching on the Secret World Live DVD that was on constant rotation during much of their early childhood.

Sting surprisingly eschewed much of his stronger solo tracks in favor of his Police catalog, focusing on several deeper cuts, including “Invisible Sun,” “Driven to Tears” “Englishman In New York,”and “Walking in your Footsteps,” and as cool as it was to hear those songs, when held up against Gabriel’s “Red Rain,” “San Jacinto” and “Secret World,” they didn't have the same impact. All told, only six Sting solo numbers were performed, with Gabriel taking the reins on a Beck-inspired “If You Love Somebody Set Them Free.” It would have been cool to hear a few others (“I Hung My Head,” anyone?), but again, to Sting’s credit, he leaned on several tunes that he knew would please the crowd, including the overplayed but still pretty damn fun “Message in a Bottle,” and “Roxanne,” the latter morphing into a lovely verse of the Bill Withers tune, “Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone,” the only song not penned by either of the evening’s stars.

The most surprising inclusion of the night was Sting’s brief cover of “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight,” a track from the Peter Gabriel-led Genesis catalog that the original singer has avoided for decades. I find it odd that Gabriel is unwilling to give a gentle nod to his prog-rock past while still playing old songs like “Solsbury Hill” and “Games Without Frontiers,” but oh well, Sting took it upon himself to get the job done!

As strong as most of performances were, the weakest tune of the evening by far was Gabriel's "Love Can Heal," a new track written for the recently slain Jo Cox. Perhaps this tune would have worked better in a different setting, but to me it simply isn't a good song, and I also found it interesting that Gabriel played not one note from his album Up, another example of how underwhelming the exceedingly nonprolific composer's songs have been since his album Us.

I admit I was moved to tears during two numbers: first, the booming climax of “San Jacinto,” the song Gabriel opened up with when I saw him back in 1987 as a wee 19 year-old, the same age my daughters will be in a month’s time – this was simply too much for me to handle; and then again on the climax of “Don’t Give Up,” a song I don’t particularly care for, and yet again, the song conjured up a complexity of emotions that went way beyond the song itself.  Perspective matters with these things.  Hearing Paul McCartney sing “Yesterday” means so much more today than it meant three decades ago, and a sixty-six year old Gabriel singing “Whatever may come/and whatever may go/That river’s flowing” meant more to this nearly-fifty year-old writer last night than it did in 1987.

That river’s flowing, indeed.

Live Performing Woes, part 2

A few weeks ago I wrote about how performing live music – and industry already on life-support – is additional burdened by restaurant and club owners having to pay royalty fees  to musicians who are already rich and – more and more often – dead. I spoke with a musician last week who said that back in the 80s a good musician would have to be paid a minimum of $250 just to hold a Saturday night. That’s no longer the case.  Save for the big acts, live music earns a fraction of what it used to earn, and the strict enforcement of music licensing fees aren’t helping matters.

Or perhaps I have it wrong. I received a number of terrific comments for musicians and non-musicians alike, and the take away for me is that not everyone agrees with my conclusions and even those who do aren’t sure how to rectify the problem. 

One reader questioned whether small establishments are being paranoid to think that the big music publishing organizations are really going to charge fees for not following the rules. I wish that were the case, but unfortunately there are well-publicized examples of restaurants and clubs getting hit with fees from ASCAP, BMI and the like.

A friend of mine shared this little tidbit: a coffee house here in Elmhurst no longer allows musicians to play cover songs because they find paying the ASCAP fees prohibitive.  Another musician said that his band once had to change its playbill from “rock and roll covers of your favorite bands” to “live music” (or something equally generic) because of concerns of music licensing fees.

Other musicians noted how unfairly stacked the music industry is against the “little guy,” not only when it comes to live performing, but in the realm of downloads, streams and radio play.  As he says, “more opportunities equals harder to track,” and companies like ASCAP and BMI definitely have their hands full when it comes to figuring out how to collect fees for all of the different mediums out there. I couldn’t agree more. I believe that listening to a recording should garner income. I’m not as convinced about live performing, nor was this reader. After all, imagine if the Top Ten Club in Hamburg or the Cavern Club in Liverpool had been hounded by music royalty collection firms. Would The Beatles have been able to make a go of it?

But perhaps this view is erroneous, because it’s based on an entirely different system. One reader commented that back in the day everyone was working together: musicians would pay the union, the union would ensure that musicians were being paid properly, the clubs paid fees to the publishing companies, and people paid for live music. Today, people don’t want to pay for music unless it’s big time acts, and therefore club owners don’t want to pay fees (or musicians). This person wrote: “If successful songwriters remembered what it was like to play songs they loved for peanuts and (if) record companies kicked a little more back to the writer/artist they wouldn’t feel the need to squeeze as much as possible out of the everyday live musicians.”

But the model of people paying for music is “dead and buried,” lamented another reader. The songs are now “the fuel for the touring engine” whereas several decades ago the reverse was true. Fewer people are playing out on the weekends and they are earning less than ever, so the music collection companies must really be desperate to go after the little guys.

Another reader wrote that “both the bar and performers make money from playing music someone else wrote,” and he understands why fees should be collected. He does feel that the fees are out of proportion with the income that’s being generated, however. Another reader agreed, stating that “others should not be free to profit off your work without some remuneration to the owner,” but was at a loss as to how the current model can be changed.  He thought perhaps some percentage of total revenue generated from covering music should be paid as music royalties.

These were all welcome comments, and though I might wish that today’s business model were similar to that of decades ago, the time of musicians, music unions and clubs all working together to give patrons a quality live performance are largely gone. It all comes back to the consumer: if people aren’t willing to pay for recorded music and if they aren’t willing to pay a cover for a live band, then the whole system breaks down. What remains is a poor replacement. Good musicians – and some really, really bad ones, too – are being paid poorly for club owners who are probably being paid poorly but who still have to pay fees for already-wealthy musicians who no longer make money off of their old catalog because consumers are downloading it for free.

Say it with me: “Oy!”

BEWARE! Don't play that song!

A musician I know recently received a list of approximately seventy artists he's no longer allowed to play at a particular restaurant. They include: Bruno Mars, Katy Perry, The Eagles, Smokey Robinson, Fleetwood Mac and Bruce Springsteen. Luckily, the inclusion of Megadeth on the list didn’t affect my friend’s playlist, but the others did.

So, what do all of these artists have in common?

They’re all part of the company Global Music Rights, a music publishing entity led by Irving Azoff whose mission is to collect higher performance royalties for artists, some of whom haven’t played music for decades by virtue of the fact that they’re dead. John Lennon, for instance, and Ira Gershwin!   

On the surface, demanding more money from radio conglomerates and on-line streaming services like Pandora might seem like not only a reasonable business pursuit, but even a moral one, the equivalent to Major League ballplayers demanding more of the pie from greedy owners back in the 70s and 80s. According to a New York Times article on the topic, a song that’s streamed around 40 million times on Pandora only collects approximately $2200 under the traditional publishing compaies of ASCAP and BMI, and since the music industry has taken such a tremendous hit on physical sales, it's reasonable that some artists would try to make up for the loss elsewhere. 

Of course, nothing is forcing a radio station to play Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” for the billionth time. Hell, maybe Global Music Right will be doing everyone a favor by eliminating overplayed songs from our radio dial. But either way, I concede this end of the business strategy. I don’t care if 97.1 FM "The Drive" in Chicago (which is of course owned by a large broadcasting company) has to pay a little more to play “Hotel California.” (Though can we all agree that the estate of Ira Gershwin should give it a rest, already?)

But what about musicians? Not DJs, mind you, who play the original recording, but musicians who play an interpretation of the song? Should the arms of performance rights enforcement extend this far? 

I will play around forty gigs in 2016 plus another forty-five church services and will be lucky to gross – get this – $10,000 for doing so. I’m not joking. I earn less per hour than my teenage daughters. And yes, just like no one is forcing a radio station to play Journey, no one is forcing me to play music for money. I could call it a day and start working in human resources again and within a matter of months slit my wrists.  

But the questions is: should musicians really be restricted by what songs they can play? And should restaurant owners really be paying licensing fees for hiring a cheap-ass band on a Saturday night doing serviceable covers of well-known songs? I see small restaurant owners, program managers of struggling park districts and night-shift supervisors of dive bars on a weekly basis, and they’re not exactly driving Teslas to work. Still, my musician friends often have to protect themselves and include a clause in their contracts stating that the restaurant owner is liable for any licensing fees associated with hosting live entertainment.

What about large national restaurant chains that own hundreds of locations nationally? Surely they can pony up the cash to the publishing companies, right? Perhaps. But I know of at least one national chain that has opted not to pay the likes of Irving Azoff, and who wins in this scenario? Not the musician. Not the music publisher. Not the composer. Not the patrons (unless avoiding certain artists is a plus). And not the restaurant owner. It’s a lose-lose-lose-lose arrangement.

Should live performances be exempt for paying licensing fees? If yes, what if James Taylor plays a Carol King song at Wrigley Field next week (as he most surely will)? Should Carol King get a cut? What if I play a Carol King song this weekend at a dive bar? The two scenarios are not equivalent, and I could imagine the law drawing a distinction between the two. But where should the line be drawn? Should licensing fees only be paid when an artist plays in front of an audience of 500 or more people? 1000? 10,000?  

I can't say for certain, but I can say that it would be ridiculous to ask a rock band making a cool $400 on a Saturday night to pay performance fees, just as it's equally ridiculous to ask the small bar that's hosting the music to do so. Something's gotta give here.

Maybe restaurant owners nationwide will wise up and refuse to pay licensing fees altogether, and bands can go back to doing what they used to do: play original music. Who knows? A musical renaissance may be just around the corner!