Strange Dream

Last night I dreamt I was meeting a friend that I had not seen in a while, and was trying to make a good impression, but was totally blowing it. It started with everyone at the gathering was wearing a costume, and I was just in regular clothes. And then later in an enclosed space i was talking to some woman at length and realized I wasn’t wearing a face mask and everyone else was. The look of horror on this woman’s face as I was speaking loud was amazing.

So I decided for some reason to show this woman a magic trick. Mind you, I don’t know any magic tricks, but that didn’t stop me. I knew I needed to make a good impression. So I took a book and started ripping pages out of it. At first I was pretending to rip the pages, but pretty soon I was taking out whole pages, and then clumps of pages, and then shaking the book upside-down and having confetti and small pieces of paper fall out.

The magic trick was I was going to make the book whole again, and it worked, the book was made whole, except…. Page 17 and 18 didn’t want to go to the right place. Page 15-16 was full of violent language, and page 19-20 was almost a war. The poor page just didn’t feel right being between those two, so it asked about and traded with page 57-58 who was bored of the staid and sedate place it was in, and was looking for more adventure.

And when I woke for the last time (for this dream was more like several dreams that worked together with me waking sometimes in-between) I thought to write a children’s book where one could rearrange the pages in different ways. So the story could be easily changed many time the child got bored. They could put all the exciting stuff right next to each other, or put all the stilly parts in the back, or whatever.

It should be an interesting project.

Is it good business?

So yesterday the New York Times began to release information about Donald Trump’s taxes for the last 17 years or so, with the exception of the most recent two years. Without going into details, the main gist is that he has consistently lost money in business, so much so that for 10 of the last 15 years he paid $0 in Federal income tax, and for two of those years he paid a miserly $750.

As to the truth of this information, I obviously cannot say. The President has claimed it is “fake news”, but he has made that same claim so often, and over events that have proved to be true so many times, that I can no longer believe him. To me, he is the proverbial “boy who cried wolf.” Mind you, he could prove the truth quick enough. All he has to do is release his records, free and clear. Absent his “actual” tax data, I am forced to believe it is either true, or reasonably close. I am not alone in this decision. Most people I notice are treating this info as if it is true. 

Which comes to the point of this essay, what does it all mean? There are lots of numbers and lots of things to glean from it. The data suggests trends, patterns, methods of operation, etc. Frankly there is enough information, with enough of it sufficiently contradictory, that one could invent almost any kind of a narrative for it. The defense I hear often from Trump’s supporters is, “But it’s good business,” and it is precisely this defense that I want to unpack.

Is it good business?

While I am not an expert at large real estate transactions, I am a businessman. I’ve successfully run my own small business (a sole proprietorship) since 1993. That is 27 years of continuous and profitable operation. This business is the machine that pays our bills, makes payments on our mortgage, pays for our insurance, gas, and all our other expenses. It is the sole source of income for our household. I will not disclose how much we make, but I can say it is sufficient to pay our bills, plus put money aside. We’re not rich, but we’re pretty well off, considering. 

This was not my first business, but my third. All together I have started or helped to start five businesses, and I am very likely to do more. I am what they call a serial entrepreneur, that is to say I am comfortable starting a business if the situation merits it. 

But note those numbers. Five business. While I can honestly claim I have had much success at business, I have also had my share of failure. And this is important. I have run small businesses into the ground though my ignorance and/or poor management. I have watched small businesses wither and die as the market and our personal needs changed. In short I have fucked up. It’s not something I am proud of, no one likes to fail, but failure is instructive in business, believe me. Failure can be a master teacher, if one is willing to learn.

All of that to say I’ve seen a lot in business, both my own and for the hundreds of other companies I have worked for. And I wasn’t just working, I was also paying attention. I have not just observed my own business dealings, but those of every other company I have worked for, or of every other businessperson I have known. I have gone to school on friends, family, and total strangers, asking probing questions, yearning to understand what works and what doesn’t, because failure is expensive, and yo, my family is on the line here. If I screw this up, they suffer. And no one wants to harm their family. So I pay attention, I ask questions, I look around, I book up on certain accounting or tax topics. This doesn’t mean I am the most knowledgable around, but I treat the running of my business as if my family’s well being was on the line if I fail, because it is.

So yes, we are well aware of tax dodges in our family. We understand that you often want one business to show a loss so you will pay less in taxes, we understand that tax write-offs, if done well, mean you keep more of your hard earned money, and we understand that showing less income means paying less taxes. But there is another side to this. If you show less income it means the banks will not loan you as much money, or they will change you more interest on their loan. Trust me, being self-employed sounds great up until you try to buy a house. Even good credit is not meaningful to banks if they suspect you are a risk, and they are not afraid of expressing their concerns in terms of higher interest rates. 

All this to say there is a limit to how poorly one can show up on their taxes. Tax information is required for many business dealings, especially when borrowing money. If you lose too much, no one will lend to you. Why? Well, because you lost to much. It’s a concept not unlike your credit score, albeit one calculated with a little less precision. Basically your business finances are judged like your personal finances are, and the banks will treat you accordingly.

So is it good business to continually show a loss on your tax returns? Only if you don’t want to be in business long. You might pay less in taxes, but ultimately you will pay more in loans. Like a lot of things, there is a balance that one needs to strike in order to succeed. Pay too much and you lose. Pay too little and you also lose.

But is this true for Donald Trump? A fair question, after all I’m still running a tiny business compared to his vast empire. Well, what kind of loans does he make? We know Trump borrows money. He tax records show he has hundreds of millions in loans that will be due in the next 4 years. So where does he borrow? Not here in America. For all that he purports to make American great again, he doesn’t do much business here. Why? Because American banks won’t loan money to him. Not at any price. Why? I’m guessing because he keeps showing a loss. Remember when he shows a loss on his taxes its not just him that is loosing money. When you do business on his level there are hundreds of companies all with some kind of financial tie to yours. Everyone is vested in the same outcome. If it fails, everyone fails. 

And failure on this level is massive. If you start something like a casino, there are all kinds of losses if it fails. Not just the banks you borrow money from, but the investors you sold stock to, the businesses you hired to build your building, the people you hired to run things, the companies that gave you a lower price so their name can be associated with yours, all of those people lose money too. Even the local governments that sinks money into roads, sewer, and electrical connections, not to mention business tax breaks, will lose a chunk of money. 

If your losses are large enough, you can actually cause the local economy around you to plummet. So now your losses are not just yours, but everyone connected to you, either directly or indirectly. Not just investors, employees, and local governments, but also the bank teller down the street who loses their job because the bank closes that branch, the checker at the local grocery store that goes under because no one has enough money to buy food, the clerk at the clothing store. All of these people are now losing too. Because economies are never just a local business, they are the hundred and thousands of tiny business transactions around you. Its not just the businesses you contract with, but the businesses they contract with as well. Its not just the employees you hire, but the employees someone else hires based upon your employee’s income.

Is any of that good business? Well, maybe to you, but not to anyone around you. That 100 million dollar loss on your taxes could mean as much as a billion dollars of loss to your local economy. The nice large number in pointy brackets on your Schedule C that ensures you are saving millions in taxes, will translate directly into misery and discomfort for hundreds or even thousands of people around you.

Is this good business?

But what, you may ask, if the numbers aren’t true. What if Trump is merely using “creative accounting” to show a loss, and thereby paying less in his taxes?

This is a fair question. So let us peak into it some. My first thought is not to examine his taxes, but how the banks treat him. As I have mentioned above, banks are surprisingly circumspect with their money. They don’t just give it away, even for a “good” opportunity. They expect their pound of flesh, and they are exceedingly good at getting it. 

(A short break here for a No Bullshit Hot Business Tip: Go into the business of loaning money. it is the safest and most profitable gig around. Just do it at the institutional level, not to your neighbors and friends. Seriously. This is the one business I wish I had started a long time ago. It is much more profitable than doing art, or selling products. Money never goes out of fashion, and like an undertaker, everyone eventually needs a loan. And no, I’m not selling this tip to you. You can have it for free.) 

So back to honesty on tax returns. How do the banks treat Trump’s business? As we have been seeing for years now, American banks do not loan money to Trump. This, I think answers the question if the numbers on his tax return are real or not. The banks collectively treat him as if they are. They may be nothing more than accounting fiction, but to the banks it is a real as hard cold cash. 

Honestly, that should be sufficient, right there. The people who know the most about money and its management, the people who’s job it is to sell money, do not in fact fact do business with Trump. Let that sink in.

And while you’re thinking about that point, allow me to present another, and that is of honesty. See I’ve been doing this business thing for a long time, and one of the more interesting things about business I’ve discovered is how much honesty and integrity pay. That is, treating others well, is ultimately a good investment.

In business you quickly learn what you mostly sell is trust. If people are going to give you their money, they expect something in return, and that something better be good or they will go somewhere else. If they cannot trust you to deliver, they will not give you their money. It’s a sample as that. This is true of every business interaction, from buying coffee at the local coffeeshop to multi-billion dollar business mergers. Businesses sell trust. This is also why it is so difficult to start a business, because when you first start out you have no track record. You are literally selling yourself. After you have been around a few years you gain a reputation, and that reputation is nothing more that a large pile of built up trust. Success ensures success. People see that you have been in business for years and that makes it far more likely they will trust you with their transactions. You have proven your worth.

And the opposite is just as true. Almost always I have found that people with bad reputations have earned their reputation the hard way, by being dishonest in their business dealings. No one wants to work with them. Countless times I’ve seen someone who’s business seemed a little off, and sure enough when I asked around I found no one trusted them for a reason. They left a trail of bad decisions behind them, casting a big old stink like a fart in church. People like that rarely last more than 5-6 years in our industry before moving on to another. They get run out because their reputations loom so large that no one will trust them anymore. So what do they do? They go into another industry and do the same damn bullshit all over again. 

I’ve met men who I wouldn’t trust with a dollar. Are they rich? Sometimes. It depends upon when you catch them. Men like this are good at making money, talking up their reputation, making themselves look large and in charge. But their bad dealings eventually catch up with them, because you can’t outrun your reputation, and when that happens they go broke, and then switch to a new industry. Men like this have an interesting pattern of success and failure. They flourish for a short while, then it all comes tumbling down. Then they move not to a new place, and flourish again, but that eventually comes tumbling down too. Are they successful? Maybe, depending upon your definition of success. Is this good business? Ultimately no. You can only be a con man for so long before enough people are inoculated to your bullshit, and when that happens you end up broke. 

Does this sound like someone you know? Think back. Ever had a friend or family member who was a drug addict? Ever tried to deal with an addict of some kind? If you’re nodding your head, then you know exactly what I mean. I started my first business with an alcoholic in recovery. He was exactly like this. He was good as talking the talk, but when it came time to working the work, there was always an excuse. After a while you just stop trying to make things work with someone like this, no matter what their potential. Get burned enough times and you’re shy to do it again. 

So what about the opposite of poor behavior. What does honesty give you? Well in my small experience growing and maintaining my business relationships, it has paid off very well. I work in an industry that is full of freelancers. We are the original gig economy. And our reputations mean not only a paycheck, but are directly tied to a pay rate. A poor reputation means you not only have a harder time finding work, but when you do find it they pay you less. The people with good reputations not only find more work, but they find more success at it. They get paid well, and on time. People trust them. They establish relationships that last for years and even decades. I’ve had people recommend me who I have not seen in over 10 years. Why? Well, I hope it because I’ve been honest and caring in my dealings. People trust me. I also deliver in the work they give me, but trust me on this, you cannot always deliver. My reputation has helped me through many a dumb mistake and nightmarish project. It has smoothed the bumps in the road, making thing easier.

But also this needs to be said: There is a joy in treating others well, of being kind, of sharing hard times with others, of building professional relationships until they start to become personal. We all like it when the person at the local store remembers our name. We all like to be approached with a honest smile. We all appreciate the value of an honest hand shake. Why? Well, maybe its because we are all primates who were designed to live and thrive in small groups, but honestly I don’t care too much what the scientists say about this. Being nice just works. Having the trust of others is the greatest gift. I may not be rich like Trump, but when times get tough I have people at my back. Do you?

Is this good business? I’d like the think so.

What do you think? Who do you invite over to meet your family? Who do you let sit at your supper table? Is it the rich man with a bad reputation, or the poor man who is nice to everyone? I know my answer. What is yours?

Is it good business?

The Thing About Breonna Taylor

(a duplicate of something I posted on facebook, and wanted here for posterity)

I’ve been thinking a lot about this case lately and why it doesn’t sit well with so many. I am not a lawyer or a legal expert. These are just my musings, an attempt to understand the reason why this whole thing feels so unjust to so many.

So there are a few assumptions at play here that are important. The first is that State is required to act on behalf of its citizens, the second is that if there is a dispute we have a legal place to resolve them, we call it a court of law. Both of these are necessary for “justice.”

The first part is easy to see. If a citizen dies, the State investigates. If their suspect is found guilty of the crime, the State punishes. I know this is pretty basic, but its worth pointing out. The State’s job is to speak on behalf of the dead, and if necessary, punish their perpetrator. We all understand this. It is in every cop show, it is the basis of much of our laws, it is found in almost all crime fiction. This is a culturally excepted practice. Hurt someone and the State comes after you.

The second part is also culturally excepted practice. If there are any disputes regarding a crime, the State resolves them in court. We all know this, and understand it. We all carry with us a sense that we can expect “our day in court.” Again, our laws, our history, our culture, and our media all have this expectation.

But what does a court mean? A court is a strange place. There is a prosecutor, a person who’s sole job is to try and convict the perpetrator. There is a Defender, a person who’s stole job is to defend the perpetrator. There is a judge, a person who’s job is to make sure the court proceeds correctly, smoothly, and follows the law (essentially they defend the law for the State). Finally there is an audience of citizens, a jury, who’s sole job is to determine if the perpetrator is guilty or innocent. 

Note: this is an adversarial process. It is aggressive and partisan. There are sides. There is conflict. This is how it is supposed to be. In fact, long ago court cases could be settled by might of arms. We no longer have those rules (no one is allowed into a courtroom armed except bailiffs), but the idea that we resolve conflict with fierce words is still deeply important.

So, there is a verbal fight, a judge (a referee), and a most importantly, a group of every-day citizens who are the only ones who get to determine guilt or innocence. 

And notice the role of the State is not to determine guilt, only citizens do that. The state determines and defends the law, and it provides one (or both) sides of the conflict, but it does not determine guilt.

This is how we do justice in America.

Now, having laid all that out, lets see how the State of Kentucky did regarding Breonna Taylor.

First of all we know she was killed by employees of the State. While not common, this does happen, but there is a conflict here. The State is now needing to both prosecute and defend its own employees. It is essentially prosecuting itself. This is considered a conflict of interest. At the very least, the State needs to ensure that every legal proceeding has at least one person present to speak on behalf of the dead, because we all understand it would be very easy for the State to simply look away and not prosecute itself. 

So did the State do this? Was there a legal proceeding with some kind of conflict, and both sides represented? The answer is no. There was not. The State looked at a lot of evidence, some of it showing their employees acted correctly, but a lot of it showing they did not. The employees themselves did not follow proper procedures, did not fill out the proper forms, did not follows accepted practices, etc., and they did not provide exculpatory evidence in the form of body camera footage that some at least were wearing at the time.

Still in all of this the State judged their actions did not merit a trial. In effect, the State judged them innocent.

Now it is important to point out, by Kentucky law, it is entirely possible the officers involved acted within the law. It is entirely possible that if they were prosecuted, the case would end with the a not guilty verdict. These things can all be true, but we will never know because the Sate determined we wouldn’t. In effect, the State acted as the role of the Jury, the Prosecutor, and the Defender, in a case that clearly was controversial, and in which its own citizens had demanded more scrutiny.

So was there justice here? No. The state neither acted on behalf of its citizen, Breonna Taylor, nor brought the case against her killers to the proper place to resolve such conflicts. There was no opposing side given a voice in the proceedings. There was no speaker for the dead. It was the State sitting in judgement upon its own actors, and determining, by itself, that they had done nothing wrong.

If you find yourself wondering why people are protesting, this is why.

From the Writer’s desk

I was 12 when I first laid eyes on a locomotive, and I will remember that moment to the end of my days. Those crazy unbelievers up in Sisko had invented a new engine that was supposed to be faster and more efficient. All the newspapers from up north talked about the new-coming passenger service which promised travel to any place in the Empire within a single day. This was easily twice the speed of the ancient 2 + 2s they ran before with their open tops and their rickety carriages. But where we lived no one paid much mind to that, as no one we knew had money for the fare. What got all of the farmers tongues to waggling was the freight version of that engine, which was even larger and promised to take produce from our fields to the ever hungry tables in the capital in 24 hours or less. So my dad hitched our two ancient mares to our old buckboard, and took me on the six mile journey to the closest passage of the tracks that we might see for ourselves what all the fuss was about.

We stopped some hundred paces from the tracks, and waited, not sure how close we could get. Later we would learn the engine had been held up in Delano, so that it reached us some three hours behind schedule. For some reason in my childish mind I equated tardiness of the train with a lessor size, assuming, like many of those around us, that the “monster engine” as they called it was just another product of the capital’s hyperbole. So as we waited my fear of the impending engine grew less and less, until by the time it finally arrived I was standing just at the bottom of the rocky ballast, close enough that if I were to lay out on the uneven rocks, with my feet in place, I could have touched the closest rail with the tips of my fingers. 

Our first hint of engine was a tiny white plume on the horizon, with a darker smudge underneath it, the darkly stained oil-smoke defining the edges of the white steam. As it slowly increased in size, faint trace of its passage were carried to us. The first hint I had of something larger than I imagined came when the rails near my feet started to vibrate like plucked stings on some massive fiddle. They sang and sizzled with impeding energy.

Then suddenly the engine was upon us, so loud and so encompassing that I could not hear my fathers shouted warnings to step away from the tracks. The sound was not just loud, but penetrating, you felt it more in your chest than in your ears. It was as if it was too big for your ears alone, but required the entirety of you body to hear.

As it zoomed by, piercing whistle blowing, a massive steel edifice towering some 15 feet over my head, and passing me at a pace faster than even birds could fly, I felt something in my head fall away. My earlier fears were overcome by the size of that great mechanical beast, leaving me fearless in excitement and wonder. I reached out my hands to the newly painted freight cars as they passed, not so much as to grab ahold of one, though I desperately wanted to, but just to feel the air of its passage. In my fevered excitement, that was enough for me.

There is a story in the Holy Bible that speaks of crippled beggars in Jerusalem so desperate to be healed that they stretched out their arms that they might touch the hem of the passing Jesus. Up until that moment the meaning of that verse had eluded my 12 year old mind, but by the time that train had finished passing I knew exactly what those poor souls were feeling. The smoke, the steam, the speed, and most of all the noise, had baptized me. I was forever changed. I knew then that I wanted more than anything else in the world to work on an engine like that. It didn’t matter to me if I shined shoes, or was the chief engineer, I just wanted to step onto that massive beast of a train, and take it anywhere it wanted to go. 

Five years later I did exactly that.

The Serial Killer

There’s a serial killer and he is coming to your home. You spend the few moments remaining with your family frantically attempting to plan some kind of defense. The idea is you’re going to lure him into a room, and there together overcome him by striking him with things in your house.

So it comes that you find yourselves in an upstairs room looking out over the city at night, and pointing to the places he has struck before.

“Didn’t he shoot someone from that tower behind the Payless?” you say.

“I don’t think so,” a second voice says.

A third voice adds, “I think I remember that. It was a man wasn’t it. Coming home late from a bar? It was just past where he strangled that lady.”

The second voice says, “I did hear about the shooting, but I remember the lady. Was that last week?”

“Two weeks ago,” you say.

And in this way you bide the time until you hear the glass in your back door break, and he walks into your house. Downstairs you hear him prowling, then he grabs some item of paper from the living room and angrily rips it to shreds, and you realize that the last-minute plans you had made of weaponizing the meager furniture in the upstairs room are not going to work against all his anger and his energy, that you’re going to have to face him with almost no weapon and no plan.

So you turn to your partner/significant other, and you say, “When was it we were going to bring him up here?”

***

This is what it is like to write a novel. This is what it is like to get married, or have a baby. This is what it is like to lose a loved one. This is the metaphor of the living. You move, you plan, you think you have a bead on things, and then suddenly you find yourself overwhelmed by forces more elemental and powerful than you ever could have dreamed or expected.

Everything you know and love is at risk, you are quite sure you are not up to this task, but you do it anyway because to do nothing is unthinkable.

About Grace

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I’m found.
Was blind, but now I see.

20 years ago, a man named Matthew Shepard died. His remains are being interred this week in the National Cathedral in Washington. Matt was not a very remarkable young man, had I passed him on the street I doubt I would have thought twice about him. The reason he is being interred, like the reason for his death, begins and ends with a single fact. Matt Shepard was gay.

At the time of his death, I was shocked, but didn’t think much about it. Already I understood that being gay could be a death sentence. It was a sad day, but not an unusual one. By that time I had already been on both sides of the gay “question”. I had gone from thinking homosexuality was the most terrible of sins to understanding that gay people were exactly like any other person, with the exception of who they fell in love with. It was circuitous journey for me, one full of events that I would really like to forget. I carry a very clear understanding that I wasn’t always on the side of the angels with this one, and some of my mistakes burn on my conscious.

Growing up, I lived in fear of being gay. It was a common slur, and one that I took to heart. A fag was the worst of creatures; a male who was not quite a man. Later, when I was a Christian, I continued in the fear of gayness; quoting scriptures, condemning to hell, the whole thing. The church is a great excuse for one’s actions, but let me be clear; the sins of my time then are mine, not theirs. I knew better, I just didn’t act that way. Mind you, I didn’t hit anyone, or look for ways to harm someone who was gay, outside of offering them condemnation instead of fellowship. But I was also never their friend. I was not, what Jesus would have been; kind and compassionate.

In 1988 when I moved to LA, I left behind most of my Christianity. It was here I met my first gay friend. Todd taught me many things; what it was like to be gay, how to like yourself regardless of what the world thinks of you, how to be happy in the middle of chaos, and how to be compassionate towards those less fortunate. This last part was ironic. We’d both come from the church–which was one of the things we hit upon from the start, and allowed us to grow closer–but it was only after leaving the church I learned to love those who were still afflicted with their own internal fears about manliness and what being a man meant. I had to leave the church to fully see its flaws.

Now that I’m a father, I am thankful that my son has not been raised with this particular fear. He will be many things in this life, and I look forward to seeing as many of his transformations as I can, but he will not be a homophobe. At least he will not learn that by me.

In the end, this is all I can leave the Matt Shepards of the world. I cannot repair the wrongs I have done in the past, but I can change what I do today and in the future. As his ashes are laid to rest, consecrating that already holy ground, I am reminded of that great hymn, Amazing Grace.

I once was lost, but now am found.
Was blind, but now I see.

May that we all find our grace.

The first verse…

…of a song I wrote back in April of 2016.

 

Well you spent all your cash,
and you went through all your credit.

You fueled your high class dreams,
from anyone who would lend it.

And now that you’re strung out,
from paying off your loans.

You look to me and ask,
where all the money has gone.

 

A night at the theater, my Hamilton review.

Last night we went to see the musical Hamilton here in Los Angeles. I posted some things on Facebook about it, but wanted to talk about the experience more in depth here.

Three crazy people on the subway

First of all, I’m not going to explain the musical to you. If you don’t know much about it then you really do need to get out more often. Not only is it one of the most award winning musicals, its also a nice bit of history, a ground breaking blend of rap and broadway musical, and a well crafted commentary upon the value of immigrants and people of color to this country. Since it opened in New York the musical has constantly been sold out. When the touring company came to L.A. I figured it was the best chance I would get at seeing it. The show is massively popular here in L.A. too, so tickets were not cheap.

I’m going to start by saying I was probably a fan of Hamilton before you were. That’s not a brag, I have a degree in U.S. History, and Alexander Hamilton was one of my favorites from way back then. This was in the mid 80s, back when Hamilton was still a stuffy old white guy. The question then was, did the modern recasting of the man change him in any significant way?

I first came across the Hamilton from the music. Bits and pieces started filtering into my world, especially after it won so many Tonys. Out of curiosity I downloaded the Original Broadway Cast recording about a year and a half ago. I have loved it from the first listen. I can’t recommend it enough. The music is quite powerful, and does a good job of telling Hamilton’s story, warts and all. If the whole Hamilton phenomena could be reduced down to just this music, I think it would still be a worthy of the praise. It is history brought to life, with all the worry, drama, love, and subterfuge of the founding of our nation, but presented in a three act structure, with all the elements that make for good drama (or for that matter, good story-telling). Just from listening to it you get probably 90% of what goes on in the musical. In fact, there was only one small part of the show last night that strayed outside of the recording (the “Tomorrow There’ll Be More of Us” scene which I found out was intentionally kept off the recording to be a nice easter egg for those going to the show). My goal in wanting to go was to not just hear the music live (like one might for their favorite rock band), but to see if the staging of the music made the story that much better. The short answer is, indeed it did.

The Pantages

The setting:
Hamilton is being performed at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. It is a lovely setting, an Art Deco treasure, chock full of fun and interesting details. I could spend a week there with a camera and an internet connection, trying to trace down and discover the meaning behind all of the wonderful statues, reliefs, and decorations. If you love art, then just going to this theater is a sight for sore eyes. To my mind the building is every bit as lovely as the Walt Disney Concert Hall, or the Parthenon. Mind you, it is lovely for different reasons then those other two architectural treasures, but I think you get the point.

The stage is simple, befitting a musical when the story is told mostly by lyric. There are some fancy parts, mostly the turn-table floor which rotates at times on parts of the stage, but this is pretty low-key compared to some plays and musicals, and never once overwhelmed. The orchestra was pretty reduced with most parts played on modern instrumentation. Much of the music was I believe pre-recorded. It sounded remarkably like the Original Broadway Cast recording, which is probably a very good idea as the music itself is perhaps the musical’s strongest selling point. The actors were individually mic’d so their voices did not have to carry to fill the room, which brings me to one of my big criticisms. From our vantage point, center and close to the stage, the sound was not very good. The actor performing the part of Hamilton was quieter than everyone else in the mix for most of the night, so he was at times difficult to hear. The overall sound quality was only fair. A lot like the sound quality of of your a cineplex build in the 90s. The music was at times distorted and mushy, the sound muffled, the highs clipped, and the midtones over blown. It sounded as if the volume of each singer was constantly changed to match the needs of the music. This is perhaps good stagecraft, but at a few points, especially at the big dramatic endings of songs, the actors sang loud enough that they became too loud and distorted. To be fair, the theater might not lend itself to good audio. All those wonderful art deco details might make for an echoic and mushy room, still when you pay top dollar for a musical I believe having a good sound system does not seem too much to ask.

Mind you, all of these are minor points. Most listeners will probably not notice such things. If you’re a recording engineer then you’ll probably find even more flaws than I did, but for most people the sound will be more than adequate. The music was clear, the lyrics understandable, and sound was loud without being anywhere near to rock-concert volume. My wife and son, both of whom have only heard bits and pieces of the soundtrack, found the music wonderful, and had no problems following the story, even when it was delivered at a blistering rate.

The staging of the music, especially seeing different characters sing the various parts, really made the music come to life. The Original Broadway Cast recording is great, as I mentioned above, but suffers in that you often cannot tell which character is singing what part. The voices of Lin-Manuel Miranda (Alexander Hamilton) and Leslie Odom Jr. (Arron Burr) are close enough to my ear that I cannot tell by listening that they often trade lines back and forth in a song. Seeing them do so on they stage brought much greater depth to the songs.

Perhaps my favorite example of this was the wonderfully subtile scene in the song One Last Time. The song begins with Washington asking Hamilton to write for him one last speech. Most of the song goes into the reasons for the speech and Washington’s retirement, but near the end we get to hear part of the actual speech itself. It starts with Hamilton speaking the words front stage, with Washington back stage about as far as you can go, directly behind him. The rest of the stage is largely bare. As the song progresses, Hamilton slowly moves back stage, and Washington comes to front stage. When they pass the song goes from spoken to sung, and the voicing seamlessly transitioning from that of Hamilton, the speech-writer, to Washington the speaker. All the while the song is building from just single voice and a cello, to multiple instruments. Near the end the ensemble has come onstage, dressed formally, arranged in couples as if listening to a speech at a park, with the men holding their hats high over their heads in respect. It is lovely, and powerful, and fairly simple. Never once does it get in the way of the performance. The movements and the costumes supported the song perfectly.

Another example is in the song The Room Where it Happens. This is the turning point for the antagonist (Aaron Burr), as the song captures the moment he goes from being passive to active, following, as he later tells him, Hamilton’s example. In terms of dramatic structure, this scene is key to the story. It ties up one theme (wait for it), and introduces another (room where it happens), adding complications along the way. In the cast recording the emotional impact of Burr singing “I want to be in the room where it happens” is not very strong. Seeing it staged you realize this is a life changing moment for the man (and later for Hamilton as well). The music alone does not do this song justice. Seeing it performed really brings it all home.

I could say the same for easily 3/4ths of the songs. The staging really takes them to another level. On some songs, like the complicated relationship between A Winter’s Ball, which runs into Helpless, and finally Satisfied, the staging really helps to understand the story. The songs captures the moment when Angelica Schuyler first meets Hamilton in A Winter’s Ball, and then later rewinds so that she can relive that same moment at her sister’s wedding to Hamilton in the song Satisfied. This is pretty complex for stage craft. Movies often go back and forth in time, but it’s a hard thing to do on a stage, let alone in a song. The staging does both scenes perfectly, changing only a few small parts, which add all the wonderful emotional undercurrent to the story.

Finally, I’d like to mention the actors. On the night we saw it the part of Hamilton was played by Ryan Alavarado, who is listed in the playbill as a standby. Either he was having a bad night, or his performance was not particularly polished. Either way his was perhaps the single “average” performance. This is not a complaint. When you go to the theater you get what the director gives you. Unlike a movie which can be shot with multiple takes, you only get one take on the stage. It either nails it or it doesn’t. Alvarado was a good performer but his voice was quieter (as I mentioned before) and his acting was a bit stiff. Perhaps his was a great performance, but only look worse when compared to those he was staged with, because the rest of the cast really pulled out the stops. Stand outs from such a wonderful cast are hard to find, but Joshua Henry, singing the part of Aaron Burr, really nailed it, and Isaiah Johnson singing the part of George Washington was incredible. His ending of One Last Time was soaring, a great example of how much better theater is at performing a song then any rock band. (Take note. If you’re in a band and really want to take things to the next level, this is what it looks like.) Rory O’Malley reprised his role of King George, since he was part of the original broadway cast. His performance takes a comic part and milks it for all it’s worth, to great effect. He was a show stopper. Finally, of note was Raven Thomas’ performance of Angelica Schuyler. She is listed in the program as part of the Ensemble, not a lead part. How she got the part of Angelica I don’t know. What I do know is she sang and acted as if this was her “shot”, and let me tell you, girlfriend knows how to aim. I expect to see more of her.

So in closing, was seeing the play worth the cost? Yes. The staging makes the play so much better than the music. It adds more drama, more comedy, more sadness, more of everything. In spite of a few quibbles I would go again. Already my wife has said she’d like to. I don’t know that we’ll sit in the same seats, but I have a feeling we’ll be back.

 

 

A thank you letter

This is in response to receiving a new filter kit for our Falsken Water System that removes hard water deposits from the water before it enters our on-demand hot water heater. The text below was emailed to them. I’m placing it here because I thought it deserved more exposure.

 

To Whom It May Concern,

I am writing to you after receiving your tHT-20RF replacement filter for our Heater Treater 20. This is the third replacement cartridge we’ve purchased from your company. I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by the packaging. Previous replacement filters came pretty bare-bones, but this one was obviously a well-thought replacement kit. It included instructions, a new o-ring, and even a little silicon lubricant packet. Opening the box (which is also new packaging) was a wonderful surprise. A bit like expecting a Chevy and finding instead a Cadillac. So good job.

But here is the reason why I am writing. Upgrading a product like this is nice, but not always necessary. As your marketing director will no doubt tell you, I am considered a “captive customer,” that is I have already purchased your product (a heater treater, demanded by our plumber as a condition of installation for on-demand heater), and I’m not likely to purchase another. Short of buying a new home we’re pretty much heater treatered up. Sales of incidentals, like replacement filter cartridges, are probably not a big profit center for you, and they certainly don’t generate more profit by adding “goodies” in with the filter.

What this tells me is that someone in your company decided to upgrade your replacement filters, and did so against most of the advice they give you in business school. Even now I bet you have a bean-counter somewhere in your company telling you this was a bad business decision. Well I’m writing to you to tell you different. This was a brilliant move, one I hope more companies will emulate. Whomever made this decision should be congratulated. I used to be a captive customer, now I am a loyal one. This is an important difference, and well worth the extra money you spent on me. Dollar for dollar, this is damn good marketing.

Signed, a very thankful customer,

Eric Tolladay