danajohnhill.org | Hard Times Come Again No More

It isn’t easy to believe that another year has expired, and that we are on the eve of 2008. It seems as though 2007 passed in a blur, and could not have possibly been a full 365 days. Still, it was a very good year to me, and one in which I accomplished many a thing I set out to do, and began many another thing I will accomplish by and by. But it is clear I am getting older.

I turned 31 years old in 2007, though for most of the year I was 30, so I think this passage from “Growing Old” by Byron fits well:

But now at thirty years my hair is grey—
(I wonder what it will be like at forty?
I thought of a peruke the other day—)
My heart is not much greener; and, in short, I
Have squandered my whole summer while ’twas May[...]

But I, being fond of true philosophy,
Say very often to myself, ‘Alas!
All things that have been born were born to die,
And flesh (which Death mows down to hay) is grass;
You’ve passed your youth not so unpleasantly,
And if you had it o’er again—’twould pass—
So thank your stars that matters are no worse,
And read your Bible, sir, and mind your purse.’

Filed under: General, Musings on December 31st, 2007 | No Comments »

In 1987, when the most garish aesthetic elements of that decade had only just reached their zenith, my father took me to a store on Hillsborough Avenue in Tampa called Paragon Music, where I got a close look at electric guitars for really the first time in my life. I have a vivid recollection of a wall of pointy instruments in obnoxious neon and florescent colors. Not long before, Don Johnson had had a popular music video for a song called “Heartbeat”. At Paragon I saw the same bright green guitar that appears in the video (at about :10). I thought it was the epitome of cool. I do not remember if I was able to actually touch any guitars that day, but my desire to have one of my own was suddenly awakened.

I was only ten years old in 1987, and I certainly had no friends who played guitars, or any instruments, really. But I wanted one so bad that I probably annoyed a lot of people in my lobbying to procure one. That Christmas morning, the only one we spent at Scott Court, I didn’t see an electric guitar under the tree. Remembering that when I was a child, the true meaning of Christmas lay in the receiving of gifts, I was sad. But taking the torn and crumpled paper that had wrapped an assortment of seemingly lesser gifts out to the garbage in the garage I found a small tube amplifier–an Alamo Embassy–and a cardboard box which held an Electra 2253w guitar. I was ecstatic.

Later that morning, before we headed off to see the rest of the family in Dade City, my Dad and I posed for a picture. Twenty Christmases later, at my Grandmother’s house in St. Petersburg, we recreated that historic photograph, with all of us looking a little bit worse for the wear I suppose, including the Electra, which has lost a pickup and sits unstrung in a closet these days. Still, as I lately obsess over white blonde Telecasters, and candy green Stratocasters, I have that old Japanese Fender copy as a tangible reminder of where my interest in playing music–however unaccomplished–began, twenty years ago.

Filed under: Dana Heritage Project, Nostalgia, Special Occasions on December 31st, 2007 | No Comments »

This year, thanks to the magic of radio automation, I was able to easily get time away from work to visit family in St. Petersburg. Mrs. Hill and I made our way south on Christmas Eve’s Eve.

It was my intention to stop at the Sam Ash store in Clearwater (formerly Thoroughbred Music, a Dana Heritage Project Historic Site), but it was getting too late by the time we reached Tampa to hope we’d make it to that store before it closed at six o’clock. Then I remembered that there was a guitar store or two on Hillborough Avenue in Tampa. I had not traveled down that stretch of US 92 between I-75 and Dale Mabry for well over a decade, and it has changed almost beyond recognition. It was once one of the narrowest four-lane highways in America, with no room whatever for driver error. At six wide lanes with a median, it is now hard to imagine how narrow it once was. The only indication you get is at the bridge crossing the Hillsborough River. While the west-bound lane is a new span, the east-bound lanes still use the old vertical lift bridge I crossed countless times when I was a kid and my dad lived in Seminole Heights.

The Guitar Center is a pretty good store for those looking for new Fenders. I was interested in playing a couple different models, to compare neck finishes and pickups. When I walked in a fellow asked if he could help me find anything. I said, “I’d like to play the ‘52 Hot Rod Telecaster through a Twin Reverb. Lo and behold, they were right before my eyes, one atop the other. He gave me a pick, and I tried it out for several minutes before switching to the Deluxe Series Telecaster and finally the American ‘52 Reissue. The pickups on the ‘52 RI were by far my favorite, with extreme treble. I also really liked the sound and feel of the Deluxe Series Stratocaster, and the beautiful color of the Yngwie Malmsteen Stratocaster. The twenty minutes we spent in Guitar Center were torture to Miriam.

We made it to St. Pete around 6:30, and we treater Marshall and Grandma to dinner at Applebee’s. Our waitress was super nice. I wasn’t sure if I liked the hamburgers at Applebee’s, but it turns out I do. Not as much as Chili’s, but not bad. I couldn’t eat my fries, and we took them home. Back at Grandmas we chatted until after ten o’clock, then went to bed.

On Christmas Eve, Grandma was delighted to receive a series of phone calls, bringing news good and bad, starting with word that my Aunt Julie would be picking my Dad up and bringing him to St. Pete to continue his search for a driveshaft for his BMW. (By yesterday he had found an exact replacement transmission, so he could use his original driveshaft.) We also heard that Uncles Joe and Charlie’s dad had been admitted to the hospital, which is unfortunate. Then Heather called and said she would be coming by later in the day. Indeed she did, and brought Liam and Harper. We hadn’t seen them in two years, and they’re much bigger. Harper enjoyed playing with the same old toys Heather and I had played with when we were children. In the evening, when Grandma went to church, Miriam and went driving around the downtown area of St. Pete, looking at the sites and the lights. We looked at the city from the roof of the Pier. Later that evening we watched It’s a Wonderful Life.

On Christmas morning Grandma gave her gifts to Marshall, Miriam and me. Marshall got a tambourine; Miriam a blanket which Grandma stitched by hand; and I got another selection of old tools that had belonged to my late grandfather and great-grandfather. She even gave me a framed photo of me with my father and grandfather–perhaps one-of-a-kind–but I forgot it when we left on Wednesday. We went to the new home of my cousin Jessica, which is spacious and bright. Plus, she has one of the most beautiful white cats I have ever seen. Back at Grandma’s, I had a great long talk with Dad, then Miriam presented her magnificent eight cheese lasagna, which everyone loved. Grandma showed us the present that Connie and Charlie gave her: two stars named for her and Grandpa.

Wednesday morning I helped Grandma by replacing a light on her car above her license plate. We gave her our old carpet shampooer, and got on the road at about noon. On the way back home, I discovered how the Sam Ash store on McMullen-Booth Road is a pale shadow of its former Thoroughbred Music glory. The weather was warm and nice, but there were many more cars on the road than I would have liked. It makes driving fatiguing. I-75 is becoming increasingly congested day by day, and will soon have far more cars than it can safely accommodate.

We got home around 3:30 and were glad to see Moggie again. A fine Christmas.

Filed under: Family, Food, General, Nostalgia, Special Occasions, Transportation, Travel on December 28th, 2007 | 1 Comment »

If you’re like me you watch a little bit of television, and have your own favorite programs. Mine include How I Met Your Mother, 30 Rock, The Office, Pushing Daisies and Lost. You have probably noticed, then, that these shows are now in repeats or soon will be, due to the ongoing strike by the Writers Guild of America. In the case of Lost, a serial that relies on continuity, its fourth season was initially scheduled for the winter/spring, when it could run its full course without repeating an episode. The WGA strike appears to have made that plan impossible once the show returns next month. And I do not know how the seasons of other shows will be impacted when the strike ends. Will their production companies produce their generally 22 episode runs and go on new into the summer, or will they just end their seasons in April and May as usual, having produced only eight to ten episodes?

Many of my favorite television programs are non-fiction series, like This Old House, Frontline, Nova and How It’s Made, all of which may not be affected by the writer’s strike. But The Daily Show and The Colbert Report are sorely missed. Going too far into the 2008 campaign without them will be a great loss for fans of satire.

Meanwhile, Alec Baldwin, star of 30 Rock, has written about the strike and how the business of entertainment has changed so drastically, that a solution to the impasse may not be readily forthcoming.

The writers deserve a piece of the digital pie, but how much? How much do any of the elements who work in the industry deserve, management included? There will always be bidding for services of stars, great directors and gifted writers. But does the suit who follows the fashion and signs the $20 million star also deserve $20 million?

The AMPTA does not give a damn about what is on the screen or what happens off of it. The men who run Hollywood now do not call the shots. The Jeff Zuckers and Brad Greys of the world ultimately answer to men who do not even live in Los Angeles. They live on yachts or in the clouds. They don’t know how painters and costumers are suffering, because they’ve never met one.

So, what is true for all of American industry is also true in Hollywood: the robber-barons have such vast resources and are so insulated, that the ever diminishing power of organized labor is no match for their vast fortunes.

Filed under: Current Events, Television on December 27th, 2007 | No Comments »

To everyone we won’t see this Tuesday, Merry Christmas.

Filed under: Special Occasions on December 23rd, 2007 | No Comments »