Monthly Archives: April 2020

‘Come To The Moon’ — Gershwin, 1919

I saw this fabulous production number on TV in Philly the year after I graduated from college. I missed the show in NYC: ‘S’Wonderful’ closed quickly. Since then I’ve wondered A) Who were those hunky ‘Manhattan Rhythm Kings,’ B) What happened to those hunky ‘Manhattan Rhythm Kings,’ C) Where could I find the sheet music and D) Where could I ever find a clip of the broadcast?

Huzzah, after 33 years, I’ve got D, if not all the rest of the agenda. Via YouTube, via German television, via some blessed uploader who liked the song as much as I did, I found this clip to share with you. A Ziegfeld-esque production of a ‘stellar’ song. It’s even all about Georgian economics. For purists, here is Gershwin himself playing his own tune, including the verse, via piano roll, via YouTube, etc.

A great example of Gershwin’s “song-plugging” style — sell the tune, big and fast. This misleads almost every ragtime performer today. Ragtime was an elegant parlor pastime for intimate sociable dancing. Piano rolls are dazzling, but the coked-out mechanized feats of competitive virtuosity they represent sometimes obscure as much as they illuminate. (Like the moon itself!)

UPDATE: So, just as we’re enjoying a little ragtime moon fantasy of a century ago, the U.S. with no Constitutional authority announced our nation is going to wrap capitalism around the moon like a vampire squid and repeatedly jab the Goldman, Sachs blood-funnel into the eye of the Man in the Moon, for fun and profit. I was appalled to see that the JPL has already prepared a handy info-graphic so the public can understand how shameful and disgusting and perverted and vain is the whole world-destroying end-point of capitalism. Turn back, O Man, forswear thy foolish ways.

https://www.theguardian.com/science/2020/may/05/trump-mining-moon-us-artemis-accords

Henry’s Children

The ideas and arguments of economist Henry George, developed most fully in 1877’s Progress and Poverty, are by no means obsolete or antique.

The rent is too damn high.

George discerned that the pushy barricade to our thinking, the invisible forcefield that holds humanity back,, or at least one of them, is that an economy based on rent is doomed from the start, a leaking tire that regularly rolls around to the puncture point, bringing horrible regular jounces and shocks, and anyway ultimately shredding the rubber, denting the wheel, and, if pushed relentlessly enough, eventually twisting the undercarriage and gouging the hell out of the road and leaving a broken wreck in the lane for the next civilization to have to clear off, before they can proceed up the pike.

The rent is too damn high.

For a timely and modern application of George’s ideas, considerTed Rall’s robust and readable ‘Save America, Throw The Landlords Under The Bus.’ The full article can be found at Counterpunch.org (which doesn’t allow links, and ought to.)

We can save the economy. We have to throw the landlords under the bus to do it.

At this writing, 26.5 million Americans have lost their jobs to the national lockdown necessitated by the COVID-19 pandemic. Added to those who were unemployed before the coronavirus crisis, we will soon face jobless numbers equivalent to or greater than to those at the height of the Great Depression. What’s going to happen to them? More specifically, where will they live?

Drawing from the experience of the collapse of the USSR in 1991, the droll writer Dmitri Orlov mused on what would happen here in a similar scenario. Surviving the fall of the Soviet Union, he concluded, would be easier than it would be to make it through the then-future implosion of the United States of America.“In the United States,” Orlov wrote in 2011, “very few people own their place of residence free and clear, and even they need an income to pay real estate taxes. The real owners of real estate in the U.S. are banks and corporations. People without an income face homelessness. When the economy collapses, very few people will continue to have an income, so homelessness will become rampant. Most people in the U.S., once their savings are depleted, will in due course be forced to live in their car, in some secluded stretch of woods, in a tent or under a tarp.

There is currently no mechanism by which landlords can be made not to evict deadbeat tenants, or banks prevailed upon not to foreclose on non-performing loans.” Residents of apartments in the former Soviet Union faced hardships, but no one evicted them for nonpayment of rent. Private property rights were valued less than human lives.

Avoiding a mass-eviction scenario must be the top priority of American political leaders.Aside from mass human misery, the downsides of allowing banks and municipalities and landlords to evict large numbers of people became evident after the evictions and foreclosures of millions of homes following the 2008-09 housing crisis. Every foreclosure drags down the property value of neighboring homes. Abandoned houses become meth labs.

But let’s not forget about mass human misery. Even if you’re rich and not a humanitarian, the thought of tens of millions of homeless people wandering streets and highways, desperate and hungry, can’t possibly make you sleep soundly. Property crimes and violence designed to separate people from their possessions will soar unless we keep people in their homes, safe, fed and warm.

And don’t forget about the coronavirus. Even after two years from now, when there may or may not be a vaccine, many of the poor will be uninsured and won’t be able to afford medical care. Kicking them out of their homes will spread the virus.America needs a rent and mortgage holiday, not a lame moratorium that kicks the can of mass evictions down the road for a few months. That includes commercial rent. Empty storefronts become targets for burglary and squatters. Some become drug dens. Arson fires consume them and neighboring homes.

Until COVID-19 is in our rearview mirror, we need everyone and everything to stay put for health reasons. Afterward we want to give the economy a chance to recover. We don’t need blight. We want restaurants and other businesses to reopen. We want individuals to return to work, not starve in the streets. Individuals and businesses who can’t afford it should withhold rent from landlords and mortgage payments from banks, without penalty, until both the public health and the economic crises are over.What about the banks and landlords? I’m not suggesting that they should be stuck with the whole tab for COVID-19. Municipalities should waive real estate taxes. They should receive relief to cover their utility and maintenance expenses. Lobbying organizations for property owners point out that their members often have underlying mortgages themselves; those mortgages too should be subject to the payment holiday. Banks should receive infusions of interest-free cash from the Fed. But the U.S. can no longer afford to let these entities continue to collect real estate profits as usual.

Landlords should take the biggest bath for the simple reason that they are social and economic parasites. Value is added via the production process; landlords add no value whatsoever. If a revolution were to turn renters into homeowners by transferring titles, and abolish bank liens and property taxes and so turn homeowners into full owners, no one would miss landlords. Former renters and mortgage borrowers could easily assume the cost of maintenance that they currently pay to landlords and banks for pennies on the dollar.

You probably know a nice landlord. My father-in-law was one. I used to sublet a room in my apartment so I could make the rent, which made me a sub-landlord. But part of the reason my rent was too high was that I could sublet that room. Landlords are unnecessary at best, pernicious at worst.In part, eviction is a remedy: it allows a property owner to try again with a new tenant. In a broader sense, it is a threat to remaining renters: unless you pay me, I will throw you out. That threat is the ultimate expression of the enclosure of the commonsI own this. You do not. Therefore I can force you to leave.depressionary spiral during a pandemic is no time to prioritize property rights. Eviction is a national suicide pact.

In 2014 a boy broke into what he thought was an abandoned house in my hometown of Dayton, Ohio. In a closet he found the mummified body of the homeowner, who committed suicide five years earlier out of despair that his $10,000 house had been foreclosed upon. He needn’t have bothered.  The bank was so overwhelmed with newly acquired properties due to mass foreclosures that it never bothered to send anyone to investigate or take possession. The guy died for nothing. The last thing we need now is a million more like him.

— Ted Rall, writing for Counterpunch.org

‘I Wanna Stay Home’ — Ian Whitcomb, R.I.P.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1y-eUCC-jcjoTCQAY1IpftV5LaUENS42R/view?usp=sharing

I met Ian Whitcomb at a Break-Fast after Yom Kippur in my first year in LA. The party was in one of those fabulous houses just off the PCH on Santa Monica Beach, near the Marion Davies place, a hundred yards from the Briny Blue Pacific — and I think the house’s name was “Briny Blue.” I was there because my roommate Tamara’s dad had gone to medical school in Los Angeles, and a whole crowd of his LA friends from the early 70s had gathered for the occasion, and we were invited to tag along to see the drop-dead house.

Mr. Whitcomb was one of the guests. When introduced at the bagel table, I was fascinated to hear that he played ragtime, and even had a weekend radio show showcasing Tin Pan Alley recordings. I was impressed, and became a regular listener, but I never until now stopped to think about how remarkable his career was. Everybody I knew back East loved all those old songs, and I thought that it was a good sign that LA — which had an undeserved reputation as a bit of a cow-town in the 1980s — had somebody playing the Old Favorites regularly, both in his numerous live orchestras, and weekly on-air. Meeting him made me feel sophisticated, like I had met someone whose work I needed to get up on and follow, because he knew shit from shinola. And he did, and I did, easy since he was a marketing dynamo, putting out innumerable collections of sheet music, also dance band recordings, palm-court orchestra recordings, novelty song recordings, as well as appearing on the stand at many local festivals and events. All this, plus a sense of humor, and great heart too, without any appreciable performing talent whatsoever.

Driving home from the party, I said how much I enjoyed chatting with that extremely shy and unassuming musicologist fellow. My roommate Tamara, her red hair flapping in the PCH breeze, said “You’d never guess, but that cute geek began his career as a British Invasion rock-star one-hit-wonder.” “Wow,” I responded, “what happened to his career?” “Nothing,” Tamara replied. “He didn’t want to be a pop idol. He wanted to be a cute geek.”

https://laist.com/2020/04/27/ian-whitcomb-dies-78-obituary.php

Best Public Safety Video Ever

Philadelphia’s macabre Mutter Museum is a place where legs and arms with grotesque deformities and abscesses, hang alongside babies preserved in formaldehyde, next to cabinets full of gruesome Victorian surgical instruments. It’s not at all unusual for visitors to leave the hall queasy.

But it is a serious museum of the history of medicine, with timely public exhibits. For the centenary of the 1918 Spanish Flu, the museum held a “Spit Equals Death” Parade, for which they commissioned this fabulous choral piece ‘Protect Yourself From Infection,’ with text from government pamphlets of the time about epidemic dos-and-don’ts. The advice applies today, to coronavirus.

The bureaucratese of the lyrics is set to gorgeous music by composer David Lang. The piece is masterfully sung by the Philadelphia choir The Crossing.