RIP Val Kilmer

 RIP Val Kilmer

Many news articles are listing his appearances in more mainstream movies, like "Top Gun", "Batman Forever", "Tombstone", etc., but I would like to talk about his appearance in one of my favorites, "Real Genius".

This 1985 movie is about a bunch of smart kids at an academically rigorous college.

This movie resonates with me on several levels. I went to one of those colleges, Rice University, in the mid-80s. These characters are my classmates.

Val Kilmer's character, Chris Knight, is a wacky, irreverent fellow, with a severe case of senioritis, and he is the foil to our 15-year old main character.

Of all of the characters I have ever seen in movies, Chris Knight is the one that I identify with the most. He is bright, cocky, quirky, and can be quite fun, but there is a hint of self-loathing, and he is arrogant as can be, and has severe problems with authority.

I am all of those things.

Of course, Knight is smarter and sexier that I was or will ever be, and Val Kilmer's looks have a lot to do with that. But his performance showed that subtle, soft underbelly of doubt extremely well.

This movie, and Wayne's World, captured my generation of white people in the USA extremely well. They are two of the classic Generation Jones/Generation X movies. I can watch this thing over and over again.

Anyway, RIP, Chris Knight/Val Kilmer. I hope you are wearing your styrofoam antenna balls in heaven right now.

https://www.cnn.com/2025/04/02/entertainment/val-kilmer-death/index.html

Black History Month 2025 - February 17th - Barack Obama

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 17th - Barack Obama

In 2012, I was laid off of my job. I got a job consulting for a few weeks. The pay was amazing, but the job stability was much less than working a tech job as a full-time employee. I also thought about starting my own company.

The only thing stopping me from doing either of these things long term was health insurance. After I was let go, I was paying my previous company COBRA to keep health insurance for me and my family. COBRA only lasts for 18 months, so I wanted to get private insurance to cover me and my family past that deadline.

When I called around, I was told that I could not buy individual health insurance for myself, because I was overweight, and that was a pre-existing condition that disqualified me. So I asked that if I lost weight to get under the threshold, could I get a policy. They said I could not apply again for the next two years. When I said that I would call other companies, they told me that they shared this with all of the other companies, and I would not be able to use them either. I asked them what my alternatives were. They told me I could get a job where the employer paid for the insurance, or I could get the Texas high-risk plan for over $10000/month.

I got a job where the insurance was covered soon after that, but I would have probably started a business if I had been able to get insurance.

Barack Obama, during his second term, worked with a Democratic congress to pass the Affordable Care Act, also known as Obamacare. I could get an insurance policy for myself now. For that alone, he is one of my favorite presidents.

But it’s not just that. The man is obviously off-the-charts smart, having been president of the Harvard Law Review, and a teacher of constitutional law at the University of Chicago. 

But this man was compassionate and relatable as well.

At the funeral of State Senator Reverend Clementa Pinckney, a victim of a mass shooting in South Carolina at an historically black church, he delivered the eulogy, and during that he sang Amazing Grace. He had the rhythm and the cadence of a preacher. His voice was strong. His eulogy was moving.

I also love the picture of the little black boy staring unbelievingly at Obama in the White House, and the picture of the same little boy feeling Obama’s hair.

I love the fact that he loved to play basketball, and would play with anybody who would play with him. He neither gave anybody quarter, nor had patience with those who would not play hard.

But my favorite thing about his presidency is that were no scandals, and no allegations of corruption. From all indications, he was an honest man, who surrounded himself with honest people.

I miss this President.

Black History Month 2025 - February 25th - Roberta Flack

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 25th - RIP Roberta Flack

RIP Roberta Flack

In late 1995, the San Francisco Symphony went on strike. They had a contract to play for a tour called the “Colors of Christmas” that they could not fulfill.

The American Fedration of Musicians reached an agreement with the tiur that if they could fill the orchestra with musicians in the AFM but NOT the San Francisco local, they could perform the concert.

So, one Monday morning in December, I got a call from Terry Summa, retired faculty from Foothill College and San Jose AFM Board Member, asking if i could rehearse that afternoon and play that evening plus the next two in Davies Symphony Hall in San Francisco. He also told me that I was literally the last name on his list that could handle the multiple instruments in the book, and if I couldn’t do it, the SF concerts for the tour would be cancelled. Of course I said yes! Took the day off of work and played.

The headliners were Peabo Bryson, Aaron Neville, Melissa Manchester, and Roberta Flack. Obviously, they were all talented.

But Roberta Flack stole the show. She had so much soul. She sang hits from her heydey in the 1970’s, but hearing them live was a special experience. And she did a duet with Manchester that left the latter in tears. 

What an honor.

Black History Month 2025 - February 16th - Lovie Smith

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 16th - Lovie Smith

Ms. Smith was a percussion instructor at HSPVA, and a backup conductor for the classical groups, like the Symphony, and the Wind Ensembles. She was an amazing player. As a teacher, she did not take any guff from the students, whether they were percussionists or not. Unfortunately, I was an arrogant, immature clown at times, and I treated her poorly.

One time, we were moving stuff around, I accidentally knocked a snare drum on a stand over, and it fell to the ground. She said, “Watch what you are doing!” I responded, “Well, it’s paid for!”

What an asshole I was.

She came over to me and looked up at me, and said, “You need to respect all the instruments in this building, from the cheapest cowbell, to the most expensive bassoon or string bass or piano. Every instrument deserves care and respect. You don’t seem to have any,” and turned and walked away.

My last semester senior year, I found myself playing bassoon in symphony. I was not a bassoonist. I also was a cutup, and was talking and joking with the people around me while she rehearsed with the violins. At one point, she stopped, and said, “Hey! Shape up! If I were you, I would worry about those passages where you still need to look up what the fingerings are instead of wasting everybody’s time.”

Looking back now at my childhood, I can see my own racism and misogyny. I always had problems dealing with authority, but a lot of my worst behavior was towards black women, Ms. Smith included. Now, I am as careful as I know how to be when interacting with women professionally, especially Black women. I hope I am better now.

And, Lovie Smith, I know you will probably never read this, and you probably did not let a smart-aleck kid in high school get under your skin, but I would like to say: I’m sorry.

Black History Month 2025 - February 15 - Walt

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 15th - Walt

When I was at University of Miami, the floor I lived on in the now-destroyed 360 Tower complex was designated a music floor, which meant that you could practice or play music until 11:00 every night. The floor was mostly music majors, and I felt sorry for those students who were not. I don’t remember how I met Walt, but I remembered on of the very first times I hung out in his room.

Walt was a full scholarship tuba sophomore. He was about 6’4”, and built like an athlete, but his main interests were music, and science fiction. He was incredibly well-read, and he had an eclectic music library.

His favorite genre was progressive rock, but he called in “Fusion”. I guess they were pretty similar, but, looking at them now, progressive rock starts with rock-and-roll and gets more jazzy, and fusion starts with jazz and gravitates towards more electronics and rock beats.

Walt introduced me to Yes, Bill Bruford, King Crimson, Dixie Dregs, etc. We would sit in his room and play music for each other all of the time. I miss that! I would point out little things I heard in what he was playing for me, and about half the time, he hadn’t heard them! And he did the same for me.

He also loved orchestral music, which is good, since that was the career path of a tuba major if you did not want to be a professor. I got to hear him play Symphonie Fantastique, and 1812 Overture. He was an amazing player.

I borrowed my sister’s Marantz Superscope cassette recorder second semester. It was unique, in that it had the ability to play tapes at half-speed, which made whatever you were listening to play twice as slow, but down an octave. All of the jazz majors used those to transcribe solos. One day, I played my favorite recording of Rite Of Spring for Walt, and there is one place where the tuba plays an emphatic low C to start the weird rhythm pattern. I replayed that note for him at half speed, and it was amazing. Those Chicago Symphony brass players…

He started dating a woman named Pam. Pam looked black, she had the biggest ‘fro you can imagine. But she was actually Egyptian, and her parents did not want her dating a black man. The two of them went through a lot of emotional turmoil the last few weeks of the school year, and Walt’s grades fell, and I think he lost his scholarship.

I don’t know what happened to him after I left Miami. The one time I wrote him a letter to his parents’ house, he never wrote back. And I have never found him on social media. He was incredibly smart, well-spoken, well-read, and musically talented. I hope he ended up OK.

Black History Month 2025 - February 14 - J.R. Richard

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 14th - J.R. Richard

The hosts for the podcast “This Week in Baseball History” tell a story. They were at a memorabilia show with another baseball writer. Sitting at one of the tables was a giant of a man, sighing autographs. The other writer walked up to the man and said, 

“You are J.R. Richard. You were the baddest that ever was.”

Richard stood up, all 6’ 8” of him, took the writer’s hand with his giant one, shook the writer’s hand without crushing it, and simply said, “Yes.”

He was. There was nobody who threw harder than J.R. before late nineties, except maybe Steve Dalkowski, the famous minor leaguer who never really put it together. Nolan Ryan joined the Astros in 1980, and he was not the hardest thrower on the team; Richard was. Mike Schmidt, probably the most feared contemporary slugger, hit .171/.239/.195 against him, with 7 hits, one of them a double, zero home runs, and 16 strikeouts.

In his debut in 1971, striking out 15 San Francisco Giants, walking 3, in a complete-game shutout. Mays struck out 3 times at the age of 21. But he was pretty wild when he was younger, and spent several seasons going back and forth between the majors and the minors.

In 1976, he finally put it all together, and became one of the best pitchers in the National League. He struck out 313 batters in 1979.

The first half of 1980 was a story of pure dominance; Richard was simply great. He started the All-Star game, and pitched 2 innings, with runners on base both of them. But he was clocked by the ABC radar gun at 101 mph on a pitch.

Early in July, he started complaining of a dead arm.and nausea. Many in the media started quoting baseball sources as saying he was “malingering”. I remember a report in the local papers that implied that he was hanging around with a group of local black athletes involved in cocaine. The negative press and rumors were positively disgusting.

On July 30, at the Astrodome, starting to throw again after his DL stint, Richard collapsed on the field. He had had a stroke, and doctors removed a life-threatening blood clot in his neck. He never pitched again in the major leagues.

After a series of bad investments and relationships, Richard ended up homeless. He found help with a local minister, and started working in construction and as a minister. He did charitable works the rest of his life.

He died of complications of Covid in 2021.

I just loved watching him pitch on TV, or listening to the games on the radio. My favorite was a game against the Reds, where he pitched 12 innings for the win, uncorking a 92 MPH slider in the 10th or 11th inning, something that just did not happen before the modern pitching era. I also loved that he beat the Dodgers 15 times in 24 games. He also hit 10 home runs in his career. 

I am quite convinced that the 1980 Astros, who were 6 outs away from their first pennant, would have won the World Series if Richard had not been struck down in the middle of the season.

Richard is my favorite all-time player. I am still furious at the treatment he got at the hands of the media, with leaks from the Astros coaching staff and front office. I am glad he found his path back to redemption later in life.

Black History Month 2025 - February 13th - Nancy

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 13th - Nancy

When I was in my 2nd year at Rice, this very interesting woman (I’ll call her "Nancy”) joined the Marching Owl Band. She was smart, funny, and gregarious. She made the MOB even more fun than it already was.

I did not get to know her particularly well most of the rest of my time at Rice. She was two years behind me. The MOB was huge, and she was in a different section. She was not a computer science major. She was in a different residential college.

My last fall at Rice was the last semester where the drinking age in Texas was 19; it would go up to 21 that December. Wiess College, one of the residential colleges, threw a party every year called Night of Decadence. It was deliberately provocative, pushing the boundaries of how far a party could go with booze and nudity and taste every year. It was finally shut down in 2023 after several students were hospitalized for alcohol-related problems. But 1987 was the last year that 19 and 20 year olds could legally go and get absolutely blasted, and they loudly advertised that fact.

I went to my one and only NOD that year. I lived off-campus and had had a job interview that afternoon, so I will still in my suit. I decided I would go as a Decadent Yuppie, in the Mike Douglas/Wall Street mode. At the party, I was standing and talking to two friends, when I felt somebody press up against my back and a hand feeling my crotch. My friends got thoroughly bemused looks on their faces, and I said, “Would you excuse me?”.

I turned around, and Nancy said “Hi!”. She was really really really drunk. She kept up what she had been doing with her hands. I said, “Hey there! How are you?”.

“Oh, I’m better now!” There was a rather large African-American man watching our exchange. I asked her if there were any problems with her date in a low-enough voice for nobody else to overhear. She said, “No! He’s great!”. I told her that she should then go be with him instead. She said, “Oh, you are no fun! But you are right. I’ll see you later!” And she stumbled over to the man, and disappeared into the crowd.

I enjoyed watching the party, and I really enjoyed the band, The Dishes, who played the party every year.

The following Monday, I called Nancy in her dorm room and asked if she would like to meet and talk about what had happened. I went by her room that afternoon, but first I ran into her roommate. She told me that Nancy’s date had ditched her at the party, and was not happy with her behavior. Her roommate then walked her back to the dorm, helping her out as she threw up several times.

Nancy answered her door, and immediately said, “I am so sorry! Please come in.”

She told me that she had been drunk 2-3 times before the party, and she did not know her own limits, and went off the deep end. She was obviously quite embarrassed. I assured her that she had nothing to be embarrassed about with me. She told me that it was the second time she had been out with that fellow, and well, he wasn’t going to ask her again.

She then said, “Listen, I do not know what to make of my behavior with you. I am attracted to you, but I don’t see a situation in my life now where we could have any kind of relationship.”

I told her, “Well, I was flattered, but I’m afraid I don’t share the attraction. So I am relieved that you weren’t expecting to go any further with this.”

She visibly relaxed, and said, “Oh, thank you. I think you understand that there are social and peer-pressure issues with my dating a non-black man. I feel ashamed that this inhibits me, but it sounds like it would not have happened anyway.”

“Listen, maybe it would be worth it if we both felt that way. You do not have to be ashamed to take that stuff into account. I would have to as well.”

We then told a couple of band stories, and ended the conversation on a couple of good laughs.

After graduation, we had dinner when she visited Silicon Valley. We are connected in Linked In, and she is doing quite well with her family and career. I am glad I got to know her.

Black History Month 2025 - February 12th - Shawn

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 12th - Shawn

The Lanier Stage Band was mostly black; I was one of 4 or 5 white kids, and there was one Mexican-American, and one recent Vietnamese kid whose family was one of the many who made it to Houston after the fall of Saigon.

However, one of the African-American kids was different than the others. He did not really hang out with the other kids in the band. And unlike most of the others in the band, he was in the Vanguard program, like me, and was in a couple of my academic classes.

One day early in 7th grade, I heard a big commotion, and looked over, and Shawn had another kid pinned to the ground in a wrestling hold. The teacher broke it up and sent both kids to the principal, but the scuttlebutt was that you just did not mess with Shawn. He fought hard, and was not above fighting dirty. Neither kid was suspended or anything, and nothing like that happened with Shawn around me throughout junior high and high school.

I found out on a band trip later that Shawn’s father was a wealthy successful businessman. Shawn had a really great saxophone, a sweet boombox on the bus, and was always dressed impeccably.

Shawn loved teasing me, and I really don’t take teasing well at all. One day, he had been firing rubber bands at me while I was playing, and then, as we were leaving the lunch line, he laughed at my reactions to it. I lost my cool and took a swing at him (I only ever did that twice, and I am totally ashamed of both times). He ducked, laughed, and ran as I chased him out of the band hall. Once I realized how foolish I was, I stopped. The next day, I apologized for the violence, and he apologized for launching rubber bands.

And we gradually became friends. He was a voracious reader, so we talked about books. He took up bassoon at roughly the same time I took up bass clarinet, and we should sit in concert band with our burping instruments and cut up and misbehave and have a great time.

We ended up at HSPVA together, and were in the #1 jazz band our senior year. Doc Morgan would get mixed up and call him “Syd” and me “Shawn”. One time he did that to me, and I said, “Doc, I know we both went to Lanier, and we both play sax, but Shawn in the black one.” He, Shawn, and I all laughed heartily.

I lost touch with him after high school, but I will never forget Shawn for what he once did for me. At the end of 9th grade, he came up to me and presented a paper bag to me. Inside was a “Universal Method for Saxophone” book. He had had everybody in the band sign the inside front cover, and then then wrote:

“To Syd, our honorary Soul Brother”

It was one of the greatest honors I have ever received.  

Black History Month 2025 - February 11th - Perry Kay - Original essay

 This post is the original essay I wrote for Perry Kay. I posted February 11th - Perry Kay on social media, but wanted to record this for later.

Black History Month 2025 - February 11th - Perry Kay

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 11th

Perry Kay

Houston in the late 70s and early 80s was a hotbed of jazz education. Every school in the area had a jazz band, sometimes called a stage band. I went to Lanier Jr. High, and Mr. Kay started the Lanier Stage Band my first year in 7th grade.

Mr. Kay was a graduate of the North Texas State jazz program, the best jazz program in the country. He was a great sax player. While he was not the most well-spoken man, he knew his stuff, and he knew how to convey it. He put all of the kids who played trumpet, trombone, or saxophone and had been through beginning band in the stage band. He also picked the best drummers, found some piano, bass, and guitar players, and we were up and running.

The band we had in 7th grade was usually in the worst time slot at jazz festivals. We were all just learning how to do this jazz stuff. In 8th grade, we were quite a bit better, and in 9th grade, we started winning.

Mr. Kay was passionate. He was really good at demonstrating what he wanted, on any of the instruments in the band, but especially saxophone. He encouraged me when I was interested in playing bari sax in 8th grade. He allowed me to check out a bass clarinet so I could teach myself how to play well enough to make Houston All-City Orchestra on two weeks notice, and hey, look, now he had a bass clarinet player for concert band!

One day, he spent one entire class period dedicated to the blues scale. I went home and noodled around with it, and stumbled on a lick which I thought sounded amazing. He also had copied some magazine article about what it meant to be a jazz musician and improviser. It was life-changing for me, and I decided I wanted to do this for a living.

When my parents bought me a shiny new tenor sax for 9th grade, he had me play it a lot, but he still let me play bari on the tune that I made my own, Neil Hefti’s “L’il Darlin’”, from the Count Basie book. I won awards at jazz festivals for that tune. I would watch my mother smile whenever I did that gliss down to low B.

He worked with my mother to make vests for the band on an extremely limited budget.

He brought in local players to work with the band. One day, he brought in a fellow on crutches who smelled of cigarettes and "old man". It was Arnette Cobb, who had been a star in Lionel Hampton’s band, but whose career had been cut short by a serious car accident. Cobb had started playing again, and was doing clinics all over town. He would stand there leaning on his crutches just holding him up at his shoulders, tenor hanging on the strap, and just wail out the most soulful sound you ever heard.

At one point, Cobb looked at me, and said, in his rough almost-whisper, “Young man, this is your band! You are carrying them on your back. Show them how it is done. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise!”

Mr. Kay did an incredible job with that band. I still play to this day, even though I do something else for my actual living.

Black History Month 2025 - February 10th - John

This year, as a 60-turning-61 white man, I am going to highlight African Americans that have had some kind of influence in my life. Some are famous, some are friends, and others are just people. #blackhistorymonth

February 10th

John

I spent 6th grade at McGregor Music and Science Academy, a newly designated magnet school in the heart of Houston’s 3rd Ward. My class was about 60% African American.

One day during the first half, my teacher asked me help tutoring a student who was having trouble with math. So worked with John, and taught hm fractions and long division over the next few weeks.

Another day, at PE, we played basketball, and I was terrible. Truly. I had been sick most of my childhood to that point, so I had zero skills. John approached me on the way back to class, and offered to give me pointers on how to play basketball during lunch as payment for teaching him math.

He worked with me off and on the rest of the year. I was still a terrible shot, but at least I could dribble, at least with my right hand, and I could defend.

We both helped each other out with what each of us was best at. As it should be.