Yeah, that’s Bing Crosby. Read on.

Readers, Interwebs, etcetera. Nos and I have been talking behind the scenes on how to recharge interest in the music tournaments. We’ve come a long way from the days of the original tournament of December 2010-April 2011, wherein we had an average of 30-40 voters per match-up and capped off the final with scores in the 600 to 700 range.

Obviously it is disappointing to not have hit those levels of participation. So in thinking about what to do next, it hit us that we need to go back to our roots. And this time do it a little differently. We originally launched this online tournament idea in response to Rolling Stone’s 500 Greatest Songs of All Time (fyi, #1 for those guys was “Like a Rolling Stone,” which seemed like a blatant self-call.) It was amazing, and Ben E. King’s “Stand By Me” came out on top.

Of all songs we had from the 30s to the 00s, a Sweet Soul representative broken out of The Drifters (who were ultimately representing the songwriting of Leiber & Stoller, whose other contributions to the canon include most Coasters hits and some collaboration on Elvis’s “Jailhouse Rock”) came out on top with a song recorded in 1961. In the end, we chose a representative from the previous generation.

With that preamble, I’m proud to announce the theme of the next tournament (although it won’t start until at least August): The Most Influential Song In Rock And Roll History. How do we choose the competitors? Simple. I’ve been compiling a list of every single song that has been cited in John Covach’s History of Rock lectures on Coursera.org. Right now I’m up to 278 songs. As a preview, this is what this is starting to look like in intervals of 50 in order of songs mentioned.

#1: I’ve Got A Pocket Full Of Dreams- Bing Crosby (1938)
#50: Long Tall Sally- Little Richard (1958)
#100: Looking Back- Nat King Cole (1958)
#150: You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away- The Beatles (1965)
#200: Homeward Bound- Simon & Garfunkel (1966)
#250: Money- Barrett Strong (1960)

A return to basics 3 years after the fact should be fun. So get excited! In the meantime, continue enjoying the summer- hopefully wherever you all are the weather is as beautiful as it is here in Seattle. Keep living the dream, as always.

The Andrews Sisters were pioneers in the harmonization of vocals to emulate the new sounds coming from Big Bands in the late 1930s to early 1940s. Thank you, free online education.

Call it a keeping myself occupied move on my part- I signed up for a Coursera course and am currently listening to the Andrews Sisters sing “Shoo Shoo Baby” (1938) on Grooveshark. But let me back up a second…

…so when I was working at Maryland, once a month I would shadow one of my Center’s social entrepreneurs in residence as they in turn advised students on ideas for new social enterprises (both for-profit and non-profit.) One in particular, my buddy Drew Bewick out of Treehouse Ventures in Northern Virginia, could not stop raving about this new website Coursera. Coursera, Drew told me a number of times, was a depot of 100% free online courses in every college subject imaginable from professors at universities all across the country. Free courses for now, which I suppose new ventures can get away with as long as they maintain the appropriate customer capture/adoption model.

So yesterday after finishing up my requisite “apply for 2 jobs, e-mail 3 people about apartments, research the Seattle job market, clean Grant’s kitchen” kind of day, I figured why not and visited the website.

It is awesome. Here is an article that goes over what it’s all about and why it won Best New Start-Up of 2012. There are currently 374 upcoming courses (free, this is all free) across all subject areas you could possibly imagine. They’re pretty straight-forward on this in their motto: “take the world’s best courses, online, for free.”

On-line education is not a new phenomenon, and the revenue generation opportunities for universities are certainly inviting. However, what Coursera is getting right and what other current for-profit “e”-degrees are missing the mark on is the attractiveness of BOTP consumer opportunities. I’ve got my own separate opinions about whether online degrees are providing the same education as traditional residential degrees, but if the focus is on the education and retention of knowledge in packaged courses rather than comprehensive curricula, Coursera’s all over it.

OK. So that said, yesterday I began a class on “History of Rock” taught by John Covach, who directs the music program at the Eastman School of Music at the University of Rochester, which according to US News is the top music education  program in the country. Figured if there’s a free and accessible way to get versed in parts of the evolution of rock I am clueless about, why not do it? The course just started two days ago, feel free to join me, wouldn’t be hard to catch up. For now, I’m on Lecture 4 of the approximately ten 10-minute lectures that comprise Week 1, “Stars of Pop Music Before Rock And Roll (1920-1945.)” Just went through the trouble of putting together a GrooveShark playlist of the 20 songs mentioned in the lecture (because of music licensing issues, Covach will tell you the songs and the versions by year, but its up to you to find them on the internet. Which is not difficult.)

Anyways, check it. Or another course. It’s rad.

On an unrelated note, I’m off Facebook until I get a full-time job and a place to live, or publish Hurricane Camp Stories. I’ll try to revitalize LTD posting and I’ll be tweeting more often from @golivos if you want to keep tabs. Day 58- still Seattle.

Woke up on my 30th birthday on Sunday and had a reckoning crisis with Denver and how I’d felt since I’d arrived. After 40 days on the road and trying to stay open to anything, I decided that something about my dream of returning to Denver after five years away was not sitting right with me. I was suddenly unsure what my true motivations were to return to a city I’d always associated with a certain period of time that is long over.

With the rare opportunity to make a huge, 180 degree flip with regard to my career and life path, I realized there was some wisdom in starting somewhere fresh with no associated memories, a place I’d been turning over in my mind even as I flitted the Pacific Coast from Astoria to Mexico and then hit every National Park between San Diego and Denver (oh, here is that video). So I drove away from a core group of twenty friends and a promising job with old colleagues to instead head to Seattle as quickly as possible and start a new decade from a blank canvas. There has certainly been a lot of soul-searching, many high highs and low lows, confidence and doubt, etc., and I’ve got to get a better handle on my Facebook confessionals- may even get off the books for a bit starting in a few days.

In general though, people talk about road trips and their great memories getting from Point A to Point B for that great move for school or for a job or for a marriage. I’m not sure as many people talk about road trips where the destination becomes unclear as the odometer rolls on, with dozens of cameos and thousands of miles. We’ve grown into a quite conservative generation where great American adventures and finding oneself plays second fiddle to job security and having a plan. Those are logical things, but there is value to acknowledge in the reality of punctuated equilibrium- we are static until we are not and that is how progress occurs and it is often unclear to those watching from a point of stasis. So I’m in Seattle. I’ve got a meeting about Hurricane Camp Stories in the coming week, I’m familiarizing myself with the social impact career opportunities around these parts, and trying to find an apartment for myself and my dog.

One last thing- this morning, one of my friends I’m staying with left me with instructions to read a line from The Phantom Tollbooth. “Being lost is never a matter of not knowing where you are; it’s a matter of not knowing where you aren’t.” I think if I’m being honest with myself as a man entering a new decade, for the first time in five years I don’t feel lost at all.

Guillermo’s Spring 2013 Ramble (March 19, 2013-April 30, 2013)

In the meantime, in Colorado, enjoying my last day of my twenties hanging out with three dogs in Arvada, and getting ready to start my own non-profit consultancy. Life is good.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=966627558466&l=2083407560273829584

“Three days in Whistler,” I said to Clay and held up three fingers. 

“Three fingers,” Clay nodded. 

We settled into the back of the slow snake twist of cars and idled our way along. A jet-black Jaguar with Washington plates made a sharp left cut into the neighboring lane and scraped the bumper of a white Jeep Cherokee with British Columbia plates. The Jeep driver jumped out and rapped on the tinted window of the Washingtonian, who was putting forward unawares. He rolled down the window and there was a lot of quick nodding, and then the Washingtonian got out and a great scene of frantic hand gesturing began. 

We creeped by the altercation, which was sending our nerves high, and slowly approached that radar-lasered rubicon spot where your license plate is photographed and the great trial begins.

I began to sweat, a lot, as we putted meekly into the booth and rolled down our window and the man inside swiveled around on his little stool until his gaze landed squarely on us. It was a hard stare with thin eyes and I knew immediately that this would not be easy and I suddenly wished we had shaved. 

“Where have you boys been?” he asked in a dead straight, mechanical voice, his face-reading interpreter gaping above his right shoulder, observing us like some parrot.

“Whistler. Three days,” Clay said, and held up the three fingers. I grimaced at the re-enactment, which was alright because they couldn’t see me all the way over in the passenger seat with the glare settled over my face. (It also obscured the “art-work” that blinked through the sun from the other side of the corral. This was a grey square of needle-like shards silhouetting an empty space where a billboard should have been, and it looked like one of the windows from the half-exploded Urakami cathedral in Nagasaki.)

The hard man looked back at Clay, riding the great pause of words out until it all became unbearable and crushing, and then strained to look at me again in the passenger seat but the merciful sun blinded him away as it beamed off the dashboard. 

“Buy anything up there? In Whistler?” he finally asked, still searching for me.

“Nope. Kind of surprising,” Clay said and broke into a sudden crashing wave of nervous cheer. 

“Why is that surprising?” the hard man whirled on him. 

I saw the interpreter scribble something in his notepad, and I began to pray. 

“Why? I don’t know,” the tremor in Clay’s voice rose. “Why not? I guess I usually buy something. You know how you usually buy something when you go abroad? I just didn’t this time. It’s weird. Kind of makes you feel stupid, you know? Like you missed an opportunity. And when are you gonna be back here again? This place ain’t cheap!” 

The man said nothing, staring his two donut eyes into the great scroll of our memories.

“You know what I mean?” Clay echoed in this little kitten-like voice, and I must say, I admired him. You could stick Clay in a P.O.W. camp and he’d be friendly to every guard.

The hard man did not, however, find this cute, or friendly, or anything good at all, and slapped an orange sticker on our windshield, signaled us to the left, and filtered us into limbo. 

We pulled off the main parking lot loop and found a quiet spot away from everyone and sat in the car. No one had told us anything, so we just sat there. We sat there for a long time with nothing happening, and then we drove to another spot closer to the officials and began to sit there. 

“What are you two doing in there?” a uniformed man suddenly tapped on our window, and Clay rolled it down.

“What?” 

“This isn’t…door-to-door service,” he stuttered out, riding out his metaphor like a drunken horseman bounces around in the saddle. 

So in we went, filing quietly into a building we didn’t know when we would get out of. We slotted into the new queue and it seemed like as soon as we did all the officials left their cashier stations and went into a huddle in the back. They left everyone standing there, frozen into their line positions, unknowing of anything else to do and unaware of anything that was going on. 

I broke formation and ambled off to find a bathroom, an exploration that took me to the far corner of the structure’s vast, desolate void. White walls and a white ceiling with no decoration of any kind. I came around a corner and found myself suddenly talking to a man in a bullet-proof vest. 

“What are you doing?” he said in his best cop-voice, his hands locked on his hips.

“I wish to urinate,” I said. This brought no response, so I pressed on. “Where may I find a bathroom where I may perform this act?” 

“You’ll have to wait,” he sneered. “We’ll open it up from the inside when we’re done.” 

“Done with what?” 

“Don’t you worry about that.”

“Um…okay.” 

I filed back into line and proceeded to hop on alternating feet. 

After a lifetime or two the uniformed people returned to their chosen positions and we were signaled ahead. The new man smiled as we approached, and thankfully it was a kind smile. We smiled back without thinking about it–so quickly and pleasurably is humanity returned.

“Hi there, boys. You were selected for a random search. Sorry for the trouble.” 

“Anything we can do?” 

“Just sit tight for a few minutes. I’ll call you back up when we’re ready.” 

“May I urinate?” I asked, still hopping. 

“Yes,” he laughed. “I’ll have the door opened for you.” 

“Much obliged.”

It still took a long time after I got back from their steel safe of a bathroom, and I made it through a few chapters of Murakami while the lines of people slowly cycled through. He was in the middle of some bizarre sex scene involving costumes and cats in a penthouse when we were called back up to the counter, and our new friend had the same mellow smile on his face and I knew we were in the clear. 

“All set, boys. Everything was fine except this,” and a grey-bearded officer behind him held up a mesh-bag of oranges. “You can’t bring these into the country.” 

“That’s okay,” I laughed. “But just so you know,” I decided to venture, “we bought those here. We’ve only been away three days.” 

He was not surprised by my candor and seemed almost glad to receive it, appearing long since done with the whole great concert act of the border patrol. 

“I know. I’m sorry but we have to do it,” and he paused and seemed on the cusp of a laugh. “You boys don’t have anything else to declare?” he went on, holding his smile. “No pot, cocaine, crack, heroin?” 

“Um. No, sir.” 

“Good to hear. Well, then, that does it. Welcome back.” 

We took our keys and left. There was a thick rush of smells as we left, mostly noble pine and car exhaust mixed in with licks of ocean mist that made me light-headed. That place had been more sterile than a surgery wing.

We got in the car and gave each other a look and began to drive out, following the magical yellow lines that would deposit us back into the world of democratic governance. There was one final checkpoint to clear, and I felt the same upslope of nausea I had felt before, but the guard barely looked up from his newspaper as he nodded and raised the barrier.

When you escape from a purgatory like that, where you can’t use your cellphone and your whole modern digital identity is momentarily lifted, you feel like you got away with a crime even though you had none to commit. I don’t know if it’s just the anonymity brought on by a society of three hundred million people, but it’s terrifying all the same. It feels like a national sickness, one worthy of the international scorn we tend to receive, this inversion of judicial process. It stinks of totalitarianism, and until it fades we can be sure to remain the elite pariah of the world. 

You can view the rest of my videos of the trip under the “Adventures” tab in the homepage banner at “Guillermo’s Spring 2013 Ramble.” It has been a fantastic and wonderful journey to be 6,800 miles into the biggest road trip of my life, living on the road for over a month and trying to stay open to the world showing me what comes next (I quit my job at the University of Maryland and my entire life and my dog are traveling around in my Corolla. Whose name is Panda.)

Whereas I feel like past younger ramblings, like those that constitute Parts 2 and 4 of Hurricane Camp Stories (which I finished my draft of a month ago,) were about running away from something frustrating, this trip has been more of a road toward something new and better. And after over a month of conversations, sights, encounters, and reflections, the Southwest US National Park stretch has brought me some answers. I’ve started settling into the skin of what my next steps in my career will be, and I’m very, very, very excited about it.

I’ll try to update everyone another time I have internet, maybe in Moab? Until next time, keep living the dream.

Zion Canyon, this morning (Day 34)

Whatever the results below bear out, the best closer of all time is probably the Wild Thing.

A joyous 3.5 weeks on the road came to an end today. I’ll have much to post about it- travel adventures, photos, and even videos.  But all that in due time.

We’re on the verge of picking the best opening track and best song about the radio.  It’s been a tournament with sparse voting, with some regulars complaining that the themes have been a little esoteric.  Next time either of these topics come up in conversation, however, you’ll have LTD voters to thank.

Last round I had a listening party with members of Midnight Spin when we were all camped out in Boulder, Colorado.  The band became intrigued about what constituted the best closing track of all time.  We spent about four hours deliberating on nominees for a 32-song tournament, and they’ve been playing that tournament on their long drive across the heartland.  Below I’ve included the finalists for that tournament, which all LTD voters can jump in on.

The playlist is here and the bracket is here.   Votes are due by midnight on Friday, April 12.

Best Track One, Side One

“Smells Like Teen Spirit”, Nirvana, Nevermind vs. “Come Together”, Beatles, Abbey Road

Last round Nirvana took out the Who’s “Baba O’Riley” and the Beatles vanquished “Gimme Shelter” by the Rolling Stones.

Best Song About The Radio

“Caravan” by Van Morrison vs. “Radio Free Europe” by R.E.M.

Last round Van Morrison defeated “Roll Over Beethoven” (Chuck Berry) while R.E.M toppled “Video Killed the Radio Star” (Buggles).

Best Closing Track

“You Can’t Always Get What You Want”, Rolling Stones, Let It Bleed
vs. “Redemption Song”, Bob Marley & the Wailers, Uprising

UPDATE: Congratulations to our latest music tournament champions, 

Best Opening Track: Come Together, Abbey Road (Beatles)

Best Song About the Radio: Radio Free Europe (R.E.M)

Best Closing Track: Redemption Song,  Uprising (Bob Marley and the Wailers)

When legends collide…

The Elite 8 basketball games that were on yesterday included the savage injury to Kevin Ware, and at LTD we send positive thoughts his way.

Obviously being on the road has been more grueling than Guillermo or I expected.  We never did rendezvous, missing each other in Seattle by about four days.   I compose from here in Boulder, a charming college town.

Today’s playlist is here and the tournament bracket is here. Listen and vote by  11:00 PM Eastern Standard Time on Friday, April 5.  We are down to four radio songs and four opening tracks, so all the tracks below have earned broad support so far.  I direct your attention to the second Track 1 match-up, which features a classic Beatles vs. Rolling Stones showdown.  It is fitting that these opening tracks are doing battle in 2013, and these albums rivaled for attention when they were released in 1969. 

See you in the comments!

Track One, Side One

“Smells Like Teen Spirit”, Nirvana, Nevermind  vs.  Baba O’Riley, Who, Who’s Next.     Last round Nirvana defeated “Modern Love” by David Bowie, while the Who took out “What’s Goin’ On” by Marvin Gaye. 

“Come Together”, Beatles, Abbey Road vs. Gimme Shelter, Rolling Stones, Let It Bleed.  Previously, the Beatles defeated U2, while the Rolling Stones knocked off Bob Dylan.

Songs About The Radio

“Roll Over Beethoven,” Chuck Berry vs. “Caravan”, Van Morrison.
Last round, Chuck Berry ousted the Clash, while Van Morrison ended Thievery Corporation’s run.

“Video Killed the Radio Star”, Buggles vs. “Radio Free Europe”, R.E.M.                                       The Buggles vanquished Rush, while R.E.M. denied Queen another tournament victory.

Playlist is here, full rules and philosophy here, and the tournament bracket is here. Listen and vote by  11:00 PM Eastern Standard Time on Saturday, March 30th.  Founding father of rock and roll Chuck Berry seems to be the favorite to make it to at least the Radio finals, while on the lower half of the bracket we might be on the cusp of Queen-Rush vocal show-down. 

See you in the comments!

Track One, Side One

“Modern Love”, David Bowie, Let’s Dance
“Smells Like Teen Spirit”, Nirvana, Nevermind

“Where the Streets Have No Name”, U2, Joshua Tree
“Come Together”, Beatles, Abbey Road

Songs About The Radio

“Roll Over Beethove,” Chuck Berry
“This is Radio Clash,” Clash

“Video Killed the Radio Star”, Buggles
“Spirit of the Radio”, Rush

And here are the results of the first batch of Sweet Sixteeners: (pending Gmo’s calculations)

Writing you all from a Motel Six in Wisconsin Dells, WI, water slide capital of the world. I have unfortunately not ridden a water slide nor will I before I leave town. I did however finish the last chapter of the first draft of my book I’ve been writing for seven years though! Yes, I know you are excited. Still gotta write the “what happened next” epilogue, which most certainly won’t be as fun as living in the Katrina moments, but still. Anyways, in Wisconsin and leaving for Minneapolis in a few hours. I’m pretty sure Janos is either en route between Los Angeles and San Francisco or already in San Fran. We have a loose plan to meet in Seattle but I’m not quite sure whether I’m going to make it in time for his itinerary. Which must means Aiko has to host two separate guests.

Anyhow, Sweet Sixteen time and you better believe I’m making the Minneapolis crew vote on this tonight wherever we end up (hopefully somewhere that I can commandeer the jukebox.) Playlist is here, full rules and philosophy here, and the tournament bracket is here. Let’s call this one due at 11:00 PM Eastern Standard Time on Monday, March 25th. See you in the comments!

Best Track One, Side One

“Tangled Up In Blue”, Bob Dylan, Blood On The Tracks
“Gimme Shelter”, Rolling Stones, Let It Bleed

“Baba O’Riley”, The Who, Who’s Next
“What’s Going On”, Marvin Gaye, What’s Going On

Songs About The Radio

“Radio Retaliation,” Thievery Corporation
“Caravan,” Van Morrison

“Radio Free Europe”, R.E.M.
“Radio Gaga”, Queen

P.S.- Here are the links to my roadtrip videos since my last post:

Day 2: Cleveland to Middlebury, IN (song: Fisherman’s Blues)
Day 3: Bristol, IN (a lot of playing with kids, song: Man On Fire)
Day 4: Bristol, IN to Wisconsin Dells, WI (songs: Jump Blues, Wild World)