In these past few days following Michael Jackson’s death, the number of times I’ve heard “Man in the Mirror” has most likely doubled the amount of times I’ve heard it in my entire life. Despite the song’s overwhelming repetition, I’ve not grown tired of being pressed to “make that change,” again... and again. In fact, after hearing it on the radio, I’ve often purposely pressed play on iTunes for just one more listen. I'm even discovering live renditions of the song I've never seen before – such as MJ’s live performance at the 1988 Grammies. A performance TIME magazine calls “the best use of a Gospel choir in a pop song…ever.” I would agree. Jackson bears his soul and inspires awe in that "Man in the Mirror" performance. It's pretty much unforgetable.
Although “Man in the Mirror,” along with other MJ songs and performances, have been inspiring me since Thursday - Michael Jackson’s memory has also left me dismally uninspired. Reflecting on his life with the help of multi-media memoirs, I've come to realize the world of pop music has miserably fallen since the days MJ graced the stage. Today’s mainstream pop is completely void of musical/performance greatness. We have no one close to Michael Jackson to entertain us, no one close to the great performers of the past who wowed and inspired audiences in every sense of the word.
Though I was too young to remember Jackson’s musical feats live– as a child I remember being in wowed by amazing stars of the 90s – as much as I was just wowed by MJ’s 1988 onstage magic. Stars like Mariah Carey (who, although she came back, is definitely not as great as she used to be), who left me in tears after singing “One Sweet Day,” with Boys II Men at the Grammies in 1996. Both artists helped write the song, and performed it was passion and grace. Even the Britney of ten years ago outperforms any pop starlet of today – despite her lip-syncing tendencies (see “…Baby One More Time” performance at 1999 Grammies).
Yes, evolution is a fallacy my friend, at least when it comes to pop music. After greats like Mariah, Whitney and, of course MJ, what do we get at current Grammies? We get people like Rhianna (although I do like her, and she couldn’t make this year’s ceremonies due to her loser ex-bf’s anger management problems), who lip sync a song someone else wrote and have no great moves to make such fakery worth it. In fact, Rhianna’s songs sample ones Michael Jackson wrote, way back in the day! (See “Please Don’t Stop the Music”). SAD.
Cookie cutter pop stars that can’t put on a show dominate mainstream melodies du jour. To be fair, there is some true talent out there – like Taylor Swift – but she only has great songwriting skills, not the whole singing/dancing/writing/awesomeness package. The only contemporary star to come close to MJ’s greatness is Justin Timberlake—and as much as I love him, his songs still have nothing on MJ.
I want to see talent. I want to see a performance so amazing that it makes me stand in awe of God’s ability to create such talent. I want that 80s/90s greatness back! I want music like MJ’s to replace superficial, manufactured songs currently congesting Top 40 airwaves. Perhaps listeners should demand more than tunes violating our ears with lyrics like “do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips.” We are settling for raucous noise when we could have inspiring melodies. There’s got to be talent out there today – right?
I’m clinging to the hope that there is. Perhaps the passing of the King of Pop will wake the music industry up a bit as well, and we’ll start seeing performers with actual skill. I have a dream. We need to heal the world of pop, and make it a better place – for you, and for me, and the entire human race.
Just like a certain Jackson did with his music back in the day. R.I.P MJ.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Biking: Not for the Faint of Heart
Franklin Avenue and I spent way too much time together today. It was quite the annoying adventure - thanks to my bike's inability to function. Leading up to this adventure was my decision to bike to Arabic class. Today marked the first day of my four hours a day, four days a week intensive battle with the language. I thought a little exercise in the morning would stimulate my mind to meet this looming challenge. So I dragged my hand-me-down cycle from the basement, strapped on my aqua blue helmet and began pedaling to my day's destiny via the Greenway.
About half way through my ride, however, I noticed how difficult this bike trip had become for me. It was taking ridiculously long, and I was sweating and breathing far too heavily than any casual biker should. "I must be ridiculously out of shape," I thought. "Biking to school is way too much work. This was a bad idea. Tomorrow, I'm buying a parking pass." A few meters later I was barely closer to my destination and even more frustrated with the difficulty of my task at hand. It was then I recalled the words of my roommate the night before. "You better check the tires before you go tomorrow morning," she said. "A lot of times they'll deflate over the winter."
I look down. Sure enough, the back tire was like a pancake when it hit the pavement. Dangit. I gave it a few more spins and decided to get off the bike before breaking it further. I walked my bike the remainder of the distance to school - and by sheer blessing was only 20 minutes late to my first day of class.
Class was a bit boring. If there's one part of Arabic I know - it's the alphabet. Or, the Alif Baa - as it's called in Arabic. You'd think that I would have used my time in a boring class to come up with ideas as to how I was going to get home. Especially since I had no cash and no phone. Yes, you would think. However, apparently I had better things to woolgather about, and thus strategies for getting home weren't pondered until the proverbial bell rang.
I don't think well in crisis situations. These are things I could have done. I could have gotten cash, hopped on a bus, strapping my bike up in front. I could have taken my bike to the bike shop across the street from. With all these great options before me, what do I decide to do? Walk my bike home. Yes, from the West Bank to Uptown. Dumb.
It took me about three blocks to realize Uptown was a lot further than I thought, and that bikes with flat tires don't exactly roll light-heartedly as they are pushed down the street. I locked my bike up at the nearest rack I could find - which happened to be on Franklin Avenue, and decided to try my luck on foot sans bicycle. I knew the distance was long, but it was a nice day, and at least I'd gotten rid of my dead weight.
You would think that after eight years of living in the city, I would know my way around Minneapolis. Let me just say that I was perturbingly surprised when six blocks after ditching my bike, I discovered I had been walking in the OPPOSITE direction of my intended destination; home. I managed to trudge down East Franklin for SIX blocks before discovering this mistake. How? Sweaty and mad, I paused to reflect upon my options. I had no phone, no cash, no bus pass. However, I did have my cash card - thank God. After walking a few blocks in the right direction. I decided there was no way in hell I was walking the million or so blocks back to my place. My galavant, green efforts had failed me. So I walked into the Holiday Station across the street, took out cash, bought some pretzels to get change and charged towards the nearest bus stop. I hate the number two bus, it's the slowest line in the world, I'm sure of it. Yet, it seemed a far better option than walking at that point. So I hopped on it and 25 minutes of Franklin Avenue travel later, I was a mere two blocks from home. I made it.
Things I have learned from today's "adventure," include: Always check your bike tires, think of your options before attempting your task, and, buy a summer parking pass.
My bike's still locked up to that rack on Franklin Avenue. I've already considered how to get that home though. I'm going to go get it right now and shove it into my car. Then, it's going straight to Re-Cycle across the street for a new tire. Not that I plan on using it tomorrow, but still - should the moment arise when I need it - I'd like to have its use as an option.
About half way through my ride, however, I noticed how difficult this bike trip had become for me. It was taking ridiculously long, and I was sweating and breathing far too heavily than any casual biker should. "I must be ridiculously out of shape," I thought. "Biking to school is way too much work. This was a bad idea. Tomorrow, I'm buying a parking pass." A few meters later I was barely closer to my destination and even more frustrated with the difficulty of my task at hand. It was then I recalled the words of my roommate the night before. "You better check the tires before you go tomorrow morning," she said. "A lot of times they'll deflate over the winter."
I look down. Sure enough, the back tire was like a pancake when it hit the pavement. Dangit. I gave it a few more spins and decided to get off the bike before breaking it further. I walked my bike the remainder of the distance to school - and by sheer blessing was only 20 minutes late to my first day of class.
Class was a bit boring. If there's one part of Arabic I know - it's the alphabet. Or, the Alif Baa - as it's called in Arabic. You'd think that I would have used my time in a boring class to come up with ideas as to how I was going to get home. Especially since I had no cash and no phone. Yes, you would think. However, apparently I had better things to woolgather about, and thus strategies for getting home weren't pondered until the proverbial bell rang.
I don't think well in crisis situations. These are things I could have done. I could have gotten cash, hopped on a bus, strapping my bike up in front. I could have taken my bike to the bike shop across the street from. With all these great options before me, what do I decide to do? Walk my bike home. Yes, from the West Bank to Uptown. Dumb.
It took me about three blocks to realize Uptown was a lot further than I thought, and that bikes with flat tires don't exactly roll light-heartedly as they are pushed down the street. I locked my bike up at the nearest rack I could find - which happened to be on Franklin Avenue, and decided to try my luck on foot sans bicycle. I knew the distance was long, but it was a nice day, and at least I'd gotten rid of my dead weight.
You would think that after eight years of living in the city, I would know my way around Minneapolis. Let me just say that I was perturbingly surprised when six blocks after ditching my bike, I discovered I had been walking in the OPPOSITE direction of my intended destination; home. I managed to trudge down East Franklin for SIX blocks before discovering this mistake. How? Sweaty and mad, I paused to reflect upon my options. I had no phone, no cash, no bus pass. However, I did have my cash card - thank God. After walking a few blocks in the right direction. I decided there was no way in hell I was walking the million or so blocks back to my place. My galavant, green efforts had failed me. So I walked into the Holiday Station across the street, took out cash, bought some pretzels to get change and charged towards the nearest bus stop. I hate the number two bus, it's the slowest line in the world, I'm sure of it. Yet, it seemed a far better option than walking at that point. So I hopped on it and 25 minutes of Franklin Avenue travel later, I was a mere two blocks from home. I made it.
Things I have learned from today's "adventure," include: Always check your bike tires, think of your options before attempting your task, and, buy a summer parking pass.
My bike's still locked up to that rack on Franklin Avenue. I've already considered how to get that home though. I'm going to go get it right now and shove it into my car. Then, it's going straight to Re-Cycle across the street for a new tire. Not that I plan on using it tomorrow, but still - should the moment arise when I need it - I'd like to have its use as an option.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Jordanian Fame, Courtesy of the Jordan Times
I didn't get the chance to mention that our journalistic envoy to the Middle East was famed in the Jordan Times on the second day of our visit. That's right, we made the Jordan Times - Amman's largest daily newspaper. The first day of our visit we made the paper as well, however, we actually got a picture the next day. Woohoo. 
I can only read part of this headline - the part that says "American Journalists," but that's all I need to know really. We were featured in a story discussing our trip, specifically our meeting with the Prime Ministry's spokesperson - which is pictured in the paper. You can see the back of my curly head, second person on the left. I am famous.
I feel the strong urge to start singing "King of New York," from Newsies right now, but I feel that only about a 1/3 of my loyal readers (so... three people) will understand my reasons for reciting the song. So, I will refrain.
Well, that's all the exciting news I have at the moment. More info on Jordan will surely be posted in the days to come. Until then, I am back in the U.S. of A., safe and sound. I forgot to mention that I received a scholarship to study Arabic this summer at the U, so keep checking back for more thorough translations of this newspaper story. I may be able to read it by the end of the summer. Salaam!
I can only read part of this headline - the part that says "American Journalists," but that's all I need to know really. We were featured in a story discussing our trip, specifically our meeting with the Prime Ministry's spokesperson - which is pictured in the paper. You can see the back of my curly head, second person on the left. I am famous.
I feel the strong urge to start singing "King of New York," from Newsies right now, but I feel that only about a 1/3 of my loyal readers (so... three people) will understand my reasons for reciting the song. So, I will refrain.
Well, that's all the exciting news I have at the moment. More info on Jordan will surely be posted in the days to come. Until then, I am back in the U.S. of A., safe and sound. I forgot to mention that I received a scholarship to study Arabic this summer at the U, so keep checking back for more thorough translations of this newspaper story. I may be able to read it by the end of the summer. Salaam!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Chopping Tabbouleh with Brazilian Soap Stars
The thing I like most about traveling is the randomness of it all. You know, finding yourself in strange situations that lead you to inquire, “How is this my life?” Thursday night definitely qualified as one of travel’s strange incidences, as I found myself cooking dinner in the Middle East with Brazilian supermodels. I’m not even kidding.
After hiking through the seriously breathtaking hidden city of Petra, our group headed out to the Petra Kitchen for dinner. Petra Kitchen is a restaurant that gives you the chance to cook Middle Eastern cuisine, and subsequently enjoy the fruit of your culinary efforts. I made tabbouleh, a popular Middle Eastern salad that seems to be consumed at all Jordanian meals. Although it’s relatively tasty, I’m glad to be back in America and exchange it for Chipotle for a while….
Anyway, at the Petra Kitchen, you cook in groups, each group making a different part of the meal. Besides our group, one other group was scheduled to help out with dinner that night—and they were annoyingly late.
We waited for more than an hour after chopping and dicing our part, for the other group to show up. I kept myself busy by sampling Jordanian red wine, but was getting hungrier by the minute. Finally, the group showed up. They were equipped with cameras, lights and really good-looking people. One woman with the group came up to apologize for their lateness, and I began inquiring about their presence in Jordan. They were Brazilians; here to shoot a soap opera in Petra, and tonight they were filming a little “things to do in Jordan,” promo with the soap stars. Apparently, the three really good-looking people talking on camera were big stars in Brazil – actors and supermodels. To us however, they were simply really tardy dinner-mates. Eating dinner with supermodels makes a good story though, plus, I didn’t really mind their lateness because the restaurant gave us a free drink as an apology.
An additional plus is they interviewed one member of our group, and filmed the rest of us in the background. So, if you happen to be in Brazil and find yourself viewing some soap opera named “Viver la Vida (hmm…sounds close to a popular song I know…) with an actor named Thiago cooking up a mad lamb/rice storm; look for a few American faces in the background. From what I heard of the soap opera’s plot, it seems like we may be the most exciting part of the show.
After hiking through the seriously breathtaking hidden city of Petra, our group headed out to the Petra Kitchen for dinner. Petra Kitchen is a restaurant that gives you the chance to cook Middle Eastern cuisine, and subsequently enjoy the fruit of your culinary efforts. I made tabbouleh, a popular Middle Eastern salad that seems to be consumed at all Jordanian meals. Although it’s relatively tasty, I’m glad to be back in America and exchange it for Chipotle for a while….
Anyway, at the Petra Kitchen, you cook in groups, each group making a different part of the meal. Besides our group, one other group was scheduled to help out with dinner that night—and they were annoyingly late.
We waited for more than an hour after chopping and dicing our part, for the other group to show up. I kept myself busy by sampling Jordanian red wine, but was getting hungrier by the minute. Finally, the group showed up. They were equipped with cameras, lights and really good-looking people. One woman with the group came up to apologize for their lateness, and I began inquiring about their presence in Jordan. They were Brazilians; here to shoot a soap opera in Petra, and tonight they were filming a little “things to do in Jordan,” promo with the soap stars. Apparently, the three really good-looking people talking on camera were big stars in Brazil – actors and supermodels. To us however, they were simply really tardy dinner-mates. Eating dinner with supermodels makes a good story though, plus, I didn’t really mind their lateness because the restaurant gave us a free drink as an apology.
An additional plus is they interviewed one member of our group, and filmed the rest of us in the background. So, if you happen to be in Brazil and find yourself viewing some soap opera named “Viver la Vida (hmm…sounds close to a popular song I know…) with an actor named Thiago cooking up a mad lamb/rice storm; look for a few American faces in the background. From what I heard of the soap opera’s plot, it seems like we may be the most exciting part of the show.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
The Promised Land
Today I saw the Promised Land. And no, I’m not talking about Minneapolis, Minn., although that comes in a close second. I’m talking about the Biblical Promised Land — the one Moses led his people too but never actually got to enter himself. Mt. Nebo is located about a half-hour outside of Amman, Jordan. It’s the mountain from which God showed Moses the Promised Land, and where Moses subsequently died. We visited the mountain today and were able to see the breathtaking view of the Promised Land. Back in the day, the land was very green – the land of milk and honey says the Bible. Today however, it’s dried up quite a bit, but is still amazingly beautiful. Looking out atop Mt. Nebo, I could see the Dead Sea, specks of Jerusalem, and the ancient city of Jericho resting on the golden valley that stretched before me. It was amazing. There is an ancient church atop Mt. Nebo as well, which is currently undergoing renovation.
Mt. Nebo is located in Madaba, Jordan’s city of mosaics. There are beautiful mosaics found in the church located atop Mt. Nebo, and in a 6th Century church located at the bottom. The mosaic in St. George’s – the church below the mountain – dates back to the 500s and depicts an ancient map of the Holy Land. It’s crazy to think of how long these lands have been around. Even back in the 500s, the map shows the city of Gaza and Jerusalem, both still standing today (although sadly, we all know Gaza is not in such good shape). We get to learn so much cool stuff about the sites we see, and the lands we pass because the embassy hired a really good guide who has been traveling with us and explaining a lot of history and culture the entire time.
Right now I’m in our trusty van heading to Petra, where we’ll be staying for a couple of days. It’s so funny, I feel like I’m in one of those made-for-TV Jesus videos, or the Bible videos they used to show you in Sunday school. The land looks just like the scenes in those programs; the rocks, the fig trees, the olive trees, the deserts – not to mention the sheep and the camels roaming randomly throughout. The gas stations and coke signs everywhere don’t really fit in however, neither do the King Abdullah pictures that pop up randomly by the roadside. Oh well, close enough.
So like I said we’re heading to Petra. Petra is three hours away from Amman in the south of Jordan. If you haven’t heard of it, google it right now. It’s amazing. It’s an ancient city carved into the side of cliffs – and it was lost for more than a thousand years before being discovered in the 1800s. It’s probably Jordan’s biggest tourist attraction. I am pumped to see it. Today started the laid-back portion of our trip. No more meetings with important people. I’m really excited about that because even though the meetings are interested, I really don’t think I can handle anymore. This morning, before we left, we met with a Greek Orthodox priest to talk about interfaith initiatives in Jordan and Christianity. He heads an interfaith organization, and it was really encouraging to hear from him. People over here consider America to be a Christian nation – thus they believe that everyone in America is Christian. That is so far from the truth. So I asked him if American media or policies tainted Arabs perception of Christianity. I mean, Madonna dancing half naked in front of a crucifix could very easily give people the wrong idea. He got excited and said, “Yes! You Americans make it so hard for me! I have to tell people that’s not Christianity!” I laughed at his reaction, even though it’s somewhat sad. He went on to say that slowly however, people in the Arab world are beginning to realize not all Americans represent Christianity. Godspeed that process.
One more thing before I end another long post. Everyone over here is obsessed with Obama’s speech in Cairo June 4th. It’s a really big deal, and its impact will be huge – either in a negative or positive way— so watch the speech if you get a chance. It’s important to be in the know, America, more than ever, is not isolated. One thing I’ve realized during my brief visit to the Middle East is that what happens in this far away land impacts American communities more than we really know.
Mt. Nebo is located in Madaba, Jordan’s city of mosaics. There are beautiful mosaics found in the church located atop Mt. Nebo, and in a 6th Century church located at the bottom. The mosaic in St. George’s – the church below the mountain – dates back to the 500s and depicts an ancient map of the Holy Land. It’s crazy to think of how long these lands have been around. Even back in the 500s, the map shows the city of Gaza and Jerusalem, both still standing today (although sadly, we all know Gaza is not in such good shape). We get to learn so much cool stuff about the sites we see, and the lands we pass because the embassy hired a really good guide who has been traveling with us and explaining a lot of history and culture the entire time.
Right now I’m in our trusty van heading to Petra, where we’ll be staying for a couple of days. It’s so funny, I feel like I’m in one of those made-for-TV Jesus videos, or the Bible videos they used to show you in Sunday school. The land looks just like the scenes in those programs; the rocks, the fig trees, the olive trees, the deserts – not to mention the sheep and the camels roaming randomly throughout. The gas stations and coke signs everywhere don’t really fit in however, neither do the King Abdullah pictures that pop up randomly by the roadside. Oh well, close enough.
So like I said we’re heading to Petra. Petra is three hours away from Amman in the south of Jordan. If you haven’t heard of it, google it right now. It’s amazing. It’s an ancient city carved into the side of cliffs – and it was lost for more than a thousand years before being discovered in the 1800s. It’s probably Jordan’s biggest tourist attraction. I am pumped to see it. Today started the laid-back portion of our trip. No more meetings with important people. I’m really excited about that because even though the meetings are interested, I really don’t think I can handle anymore. This morning, before we left, we met with a Greek Orthodox priest to talk about interfaith initiatives in Jordan and Christianity. He heads an interfaith organization, and it was really encouraging to hear from him. People over here consider America to be a Christian nation – thus they believe that everyone in America is Christian. That is so far from the truth. So I asked him if American media or policies tainted Arabs perception of Christianity. I mean, Madonna dancing half naked in front of a crucifix could very easily give people the wrong idea. He got excited and said, “Yes! You Americans make it so hard for me! I have to tell people that’s not Christianity!” I laughed at his reaction, even though it’s somewhat sad. He went on to say that slowly however, people in the Arab world are beginning to realize not all Americans represent Christianity. Godspeed that process.
One more thing before I end another long post. Everyone over here is obsessed with Obama’s speech in Cairo June 4th. It’s a really big deal, and its impact will be huge – either in a negative or positive way— so watch the speech if you get a chance. It’s important to be in the know, America, more than ever, is not isolated. One thing I’ve realized during my brief visit to the Middle East is that what happens in this far away land impacts American communities more than we really know.
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