The View from Here

Jeff Bezos is a heinous human being, one of many that we are all being subjected to on a daily basis. Bezos latest dismal achievement is the gutting of The Washington Post, an act that is as despicable as it is pointless.

Reading about the reporters and columnists who have been laid off/fired, I remembered how much I loved the idea of newspapers, even when I was a kid. Even before I started writing little poems and stories, I would draw newspaper front pages. Usually, the paper would be called Wilhelm World or something similar, also featuring my last name (it way my newspaper, after all). I would make up headlines and draw pictures that were supposed to be photos. The stories would just be squiggly lines though — I wasn’t quite there yet.

Later, as I began to write, I loved the idea of being a newspaper columnist. Having that space on a daily or weekly basis to pour whatever thoughts I had into a container that other people had access to was something I aspired to, for sure.

I achieved that goal in college, maintaining weekly columns that always seemed to be named after Talking Heads’ songs for the Temple University News. I’d cringe if I read some of those columns now, but I’d like to think a few of them hold up in the cold light of the 21st century.

Then around 2000, I entered the “blogosphere,” maybe a few years before such a realm exploded. Again, the original idea was a weekly column. Nothing more, but hopefully, nothing less either.

In recent years, I’ve occasionally heard the siren call of the weekly column, daring me to try to sit down once a week and get some thoughts out there. Of course, with social media, it’s easy to get every stray thought one has out to an audience at the stroke of a keyboard, but I dislike Mark Zuckerberg almost as much as I loathe Bezos, maybe more. I’ve held on to Facebook and Instagram, but I’d love to minimize the time and energy I spend in those places.

I’ve been thinking about establishing a weekly post here and cutting down on quick and easy IG and FB posts, but procrastination has set in, as it does. Today though, I discovered that one year ago, I visited the Philadelphia Museum of Art to see a show called The Time Is Always Now: Artists Reframe the Black Figure. This quote was displayed on one of the walls of the exhibit:

Baldwin’s right, of course. The time is always now. Here is what has been on my mind, in my notes, and spinning around my turntable this week.

Dancing with Kathy

Sadly, Donna’s sister Kathy passed away unexpectedly, on January 20. Kathy had one of the most beautiful souls I’ve encountered. She accepted me immediately into the family, the moment Donna introduced me as her new boyfriend. Kathy brought joy and laughter to everybody she knew.

Not long after Kathy and I met, the fact that she enjoyed the music of Michael Bolton bubbled up to the surface. I was no Bolton fan but we both managed to maintain our senses of humor about this disagreement. When Donna and I were meeting with the disc jockey who would work our reception, I explicitly told him not to play Michael Bolton, but at somebody’d devious suggestion, he cued up Bolton’s cover of “When a Man Loves a Woman” as he called Kathy and I to dance floor. We both laughed about it as we were dancing, and the DJ segued effortlessly into the (superior) Percy Sledge rendition as Bolton faded out.

It was a moment with Kathy that I will remember the rest of my life.

Recently Spun…

Here are four vinyl records I spun this week:

Joni Mitchell - Hejira (1976). I have been playing this brilliant album over and over for the last six months. The obsession is real. I will be writing more about Hejira soon. Details to follow.

Sammy Brue - The Journals (2026). I reviewed Sammy Brue’s tribute to his mentor and friend, Justin Townes Earle, for Popmatters. You can read my review here. I love this album so much I decided to grab the vinyl, which arrived quickly in the mail. As I mention in the review, The Journals is a beautiful tribute to the friendship and creative connection that Sammy Brue and Justin Townes Earle shared.

Molly Hatchet - Flirtin’ with Disaster (1979). This is the only Molly Hatchet album I have, and the only one I’ll need. I love the title song, but had not listened to the whole record until the other day, though it’s been in my collection for a while. Flirtin’ with Disaster isn’t going to make anybody forget the Allman Brothers but I am happy to report that it’s a fun album, probably the last decent southern rock record of the 1970s.

The Monkees - Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd. (1967). The biggest hit to be found here is “Pleasant Valley Sunday,” but it’s a great album overall, including fan favorites like “She Hangs Out” and “What Am I Doing Hangin’ ‘Round.” Plus, Mickey pulls out his Moog!

Stuff from an Old Notebook

I’ve been keeping a journal for more than 45 years, and I thought I’d close out these weekly entries with some thoughts from my old entries. Here’s a page from a pocket notebook I was scribbling in back in 1992. I am not sure I fully agree with the assertion I make below about Saturday Night Fever.

1/17/92

A combination barbershop quartet bowling league.

1/21/92

I just realized how the ’70s worked. The decadence and silliness just built up and up until it reach its ultimate expression in Saturday Night Fever. It couldn’t go any further than that.

I’ll close on that note, with the hope that I will follow up with a fresh installment next Sunday!

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