Clothes Make the Man

Carin Miller 01/29/09
Reaction Essay

“Apart from the chameleon, man is the only animal who can change his skin to suit his background. Indeed, if he is to function successfully he must do so.....
When a child puts a chameleon down to the earth and it does not turn brown we know the creature is seriously ill.”~Alison Lurie

I think there is something to be said for Alison Lurie's astute analogy. People are quite like chameleons. I find that to be true more often than not. We change to suit our environments. Have you ever had a group of friends outside of you “circle”? A whole other circle of people you only would show a particular representative too. This representative looks like you, sounds like you, but that's where the similarities end.This other personification of your Self is still you, no? I am sure that it is. Just a different side of you.

This side of you can say, critique a piece of art. In this environment you can relax and speak your mind about art and know that others, although they may differ in opinion, still comprehend the basics of the language. They know what leading lines are, if there is a staccato vibe, or if the piece feels is more legato? You know that when you are with a group of other art aficionado's everyone there can speak the same language. Here we feed the hunger of our minds, but is this what defines you? No, this is just that particular translation of you.

Inside lurking there is yet another personality dying to get out. This externalization of an alter ego is quite comfortable hanging out at home talking smack with his peeps, eating pizza on the couch, and having burping contests. Try talking about kinesthetic empathy with these guys. They'll look at you like you have horns growing out of your head. So, you conform to meet the needs and expectations of said group. This identity is the laid back, less sophisticated, version of the doppelganger.

Why do we do this? It is my contention that the phenomena is not so much related to ones need for acceptance, which may be your first suspicion, but more over an inexplicable urge to connect. Humans place a great deal of value on connectivity and
we tend to do the things we need to in order to connect with the right people to further our path or goal.

You might say “that seems selfish.” and you would be right. If you ask me though, I think we have a right to be just a little selfish, and we as humans are by nature. If you buy into the whole “Survival of the Fittest” theory than you know we have to be selfish, simply to survive. Selfishness is the only way to fulfill our needs.

I think there is more to it than that though. I sincerely believe that our ability to blend into any given situation allows us opportunities to grow and gain perspective on not only the world around us but who we are inside. I look forward to each new personification of my former self as I continue to evolve into “what some day will surely be, the me I'm meant to be.”

The fact is when you dress in a certain style you attract other people who have similar tastes as you. People assume that if you dress like them then you must have the same tastes in other things as well. It only makes sense.

I think my clothes can say different things about me every day. Sometimes they might say, “I am FABULOUS!” and other times they might say things like, “Auughh, morning came waay to early today.” Either way I am sending a message to a receiver. How that receiver decodes and then interprets that information is only known by them. All I can do is hope, when it all comes out in the end, I haven't been misread.

True Country

What is country music? Dictionary.com defines it as:

Country Music:
~noun
a style and genre of largely string-accompanied American popular music having roots in the folk music of the Southeast and cowboy music of the West, usually vocalized, generally simple in form and harmony, and typified by romantic or melancholy ballads accompanied by acoustic or electric guitar, banjo, violin, and harmonica.

It has already been established that music is an integral part of my life and has been from the very beginning. I remember, as a child, hearing songs played on my daddy’s guitar. I never really thought of them as “Country” or “Rock-N-Roll”, I never considered if they were “Hardcore” or “Easy-listening.” To me it was all just wonderful. I recall the first time I heard Mommas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow up to be Cowboys on the radio. I was crushed. Honestly, until then, I truly believed my father had written that song (and many others that I eventually found out weren’t really his songs). I laugh now when I think of it. I bet he had a good laugh then.

Much like Eck’s father, my father too, towards the end of his years also became a bit of a country music purist. The first time I was in the car with him after having lived away for many years, I went to change the dial and immediately felt a feverous stinging on my hand. Shocked I turned to defend myself and stopped short when I noticed the determined annoyed look on his face. When questioned about the assault my father simply said, “Country is the only damn music on the radio worth listening to anymore!” I thought I would die! At the time I was busy absorbing things like Sublime, Ben Harper, and Bob Marley. Country! Could he possibly be serious? Oh and he was!

It wasn’t until I was a bit older that I realized just exactly how much of the music I spent my entire life enjoying had been rooted in country in some form or another. I started to notice how blurry the lines had actually become between many genres. Maybe there was an absence of the twangy twang that some of the true “Nashville sound” possesses still, the roots are not only apparent they are strong.

Personally I don’t believe music can be put in a box and constrained. I see music as an ever evolving platform of expression. I think to say that country music itself is “Anglo Celtic” and that it can only be defined as country if one looks and acts the part is distressingly short sighted. Ecks went on and on about the various styles of music belonging each to its own distinct ethnicity or race. While some sounds certainly may originate with each assorted culture the thread that weaves its way through the masses scream diversity.

Eck’s argument begins to fray when he mistakenly omits that ethnicity and race do not decide how a culture develops, the physical and social environment that a group of people are surrounded by and immersed in do. This acculturation is the breeding ground for new styles and formats of music throughout history. That having been said, it is my contention that he almost comes across as a bit prejudice. Now I don’t mean that he comes across as having a loathing for any one ethnicity, race, or sound in particular. More over that he separated everything so much that every nuance became something to find fault in.

I don’t agree with a vast majority of his opinion. It would have been more helpful wrap my brain around what he was saying if perhaps he had some sort of hard evidentiary information to back his claims. For instance some sort of music theory that has been established or a study that has been published in a peer reviewed journal. Any other sources would better establish his accreditation on the subject. Maybe if he himself was a country musician who has repeatedly sold hit “Country” albums. So far as I can see his article was no more than the mad ravings of one man’s opinion, and you know what they say about opinions! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

It appears as though the author’s rhetoric is illustrating how any deviation from the widely acclaimed Nashville sound is an abomination to country. He tries to persuade you to believe that country music is not only a white bread music but that it is a particular form of Americanized Celtic, I don’t know what. His purpose is somewhat obscure by his opinion and I am not sure that it got through for me. Meaning, I am not sure what he intended his audience to get out of it. It seems as though he was writing this for his father and others like him rather that for a broader more diversified audience.

Got MTV?

English 1010
Reaction Essay

Growing up my parents wouldn’t allow cable in the house, not because of its reputation, but for the sheer impracticality of the expense. I thought they were being unfair and would regularly stage an argument, on behalf of the kids in the home, for exactly why they should reconsider their position. No matter how well thought out, how litigiously presented, my efforts were fruitless! It seemed to me my parents simply had no reason. All of that changed in the summer of 1988.

My parents had gotten a divorce early on in the year, I was devastated. To make matters worse my father met someone shortly there-after and they fell madly inlove. OOOH, I was so mad. All I could think was “what kind of spell must she have him under?” Out of the blue she moves in and next thing you know their married. I inherited along with the package a room-mate in the form of a step-sister and two step brothers. For the first time ever I had to share a room!

I remember one of the things that changed shortly after Mary’s arrival was my father’s position on cable being a needless expense. Next thing you know not only do we have cable but my dad went the extra mile to pay for HBO! I couldn’t believe it! He caved!

For the next several years I lived on MTV. Along with the rest of the siblings I would sit like a zombie for hours listening to the endless dribble the MTV media gods would spew at us. Everything from head bangers ball, (the real head bangers ball, you know before dude cut off all of his hair and started acting like a wuss), to the first Real World, (Puck Rules!), what about remote control, remember that one? It’s hard to think back on it all and not laugh hysterically. I mean, I was sold hook line and sinker.

Reading this article made me laugh over and over. I identify with so much of it. I look at my children and the tender ages of 8 and 9 (they’ll turn before the 4 and 2 yrs old) and I am sad for the day when they buy in. MTV somehow seems to have become even more superficial than it was 18 years ago when I was hooked and I think that’s saying something!

There really doesn’t seem to be anything of value. Still, when reading his daughters accounts it was hard not to become nostalgic. It took me back to when NKTOB first came out and I used to try and catch all of the newest videos, later staying up all night to catch the world premiere of Metallica’s Unforgiven. Later still, gaining resentment for the lack of videos and replacement of too many stupid reality shows. I think I even boycotted MTV for a while.

Now-a-days when I flip on the TV I head for Nat Geo. Or Discovery channels like MTV seem too superficial. When I flip on the radio I listen to NPR rather than the radio, I like it better. It seems to me music hasn’t changed much in the last 10-15 yrs. There is a shortage of new and unique sounds coming over the radio waves and I get tired of hearing the same regurgitated crap with different lyrics and a new beat over and over. NPR informs me and allows me to get the news in a way that hasn’t yet been inundated with media spin.

I prefer finding new music through word of mouth anymore. My friends have a good ear and always turn me on to new stuff. I go to shows when I can and check out new groups in the locality. I may even check out something new online every once in a while. When you have a preference of artist over singer it’s hard to find a “diamond in the rough” so to speak, with all the hyped up, watered down, corporate cultivation of the perfect star. You know what I mean right? The singer looks the part and with a little bit of work on the studio eventually they might sound the part too and if they don’t who cares? We can always just synthesize the track until it sounds like they do! Teenagers can keep their MTV as far as I’m concerned. I certainly have no more use for it, and in the long run I turned out okay, so why wouldn't they?

The First Amendment Applies to Hip Hop Too Guys!

English 1010-11 Reaction Essay


I read an article once that talked about the first amendment. It focused not just on the amendment itself but in particularly the freedom of speech portion of the amendment. The author mentioned that in his opinion the most important attribute of a citizen in regards to this amendment is the ability to fight for the rights of people to publicly say words we may hate. I had to think about that for a minute. The concept itself is staggeringly profound. The idea that we live in a place where individuals have not only the ability but the right to articulate almost anything they see, feel, think, believe, or just plain want to put out there, (short of slander that is) is marvelously extraordinary. Many countries kill for such blatant displays of freedom.

The first amendment states:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

What exactly does that mean? I wonder sometimes if our forefathers thought this through completely. My understanding of this right is not that we may say whatever we choose providing it does not hurt, anger, or offend anyone else. To me it means that we may use language whatever language we may choose(i.e.: English, music, art…..) as a medium to express ideas and emotions any way we see fit, be it through journalistic prowess, poetry, painting, and even lyrical content. I don’t always support someone’s position but if they are being suppressed I will vehemently fight for their right to express themselves. This brings me closer to my point.

I grew up in South Jersey as we residents fondly refer to it. Growing up there I lived in a rundown town riddled with drugs and crime, a “ghetto”. We had a great deal of racial tension there when I was a child due to the segregation of the area. It happened that in a time when everyone was working hard to be “P.C.” the town I lived in was the quintessential segregated urban population. A town that was literally separated down the middle by the rail road tracks, a city where all the blacks lived on one side of those tracks and all the whites lived on the other. There was one elementary school on the far end of either side of the tracks within the city limits. As a way of curbing attention the “bureaucratic powers that be” decided to forcibly integrate the community by way of the school system.

The solution was to have K, 1st, and 2nd grade attend the school closest to each locality. ALL of 3rd and 4th grade would attend one school and ALL of 5th and 6th grade would attend the other school…….make sense? Talk about a hotbed of disaster.

The tension built and built for years and by the time I hit high school it was virtually explosive. People said and did all kinds of vile things and there was little respect for your fellow man. Hip Hop crossed the boundaries for both sides. It was the one thing we all had in common. For the first time we had something to relate to.

Here is some guy who we have never met, from an entirely different side of the globe, who was having the same life experiences we were. I actually remember being afraid to walk to school because you could get stabbed or shot for walking by a drug deal and looking up from the sidewalk at the wrong time. There was a man who was stabbed to death across from the police station and left there. I was in fifth grade at the time. He laid there until us grade schoolers found him and someone ran across the street to tell the police.

Faced with these kinds of tribulations there has to be a release. I wonder if these people who have such negative things to say about Hip Hop have ever been exposed to the kind of violence I grew up with. I gather “no”. If they had they would understand the relief you feel when you find something to connect with.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think all Hip Hop is uplifting. Some of it’s crap. A lot of it however has much more substance and more positive moral messages than its harshest critics are willing to merit. I think it is sad when anything becomes defined by its least positive examples. Look up a song by Spice One called The Ghetto you can find it on Youtube. It talks about the harsh reality of growing up in a place where violence rules and no one cares enough to change it.

No matter how you feel about Hip Hop, the truth is, it’s established and it is not going anywhere! Get used to it. Enjoy it, detest it, let it provoke you to think and grow and maybe even infiltrate a subculture of America and get to know it better. You don’t have to like it to learn from it.

My Fathers Music

“Take life as it comes, where there’s life there’s love, where there’s love there’s hope, where there’s hope there’s cause…….” The lyrics rolled off of my father’s tongue like Jell-o from a mold. “……Let destiny lead you, let fate be your guide, let trust be your judge, but with honor and pride.” Words that, until he put them together, held only a small portion of the wisdom imparted. “Take it as it comes……there’s really not much changin’ it after it’s here.”

From as early as I can recall the sound of my father’s guitar has soothed me, like a soft comfy blanket, wrapping around me and warming me, penetrating me down to my core. The words in the lyrics were always sung with such emotion that you had to stop and listen, not just listen, ponder.

When I was little I would stay awake late at night pretending to be asleep on the couch so that I could listen even longer, holding on to each moment with all I had so as not to lose my grip. Funny, that hasn’t changed. Although my father has passed and is no longer here to guide me his words are forever imprinted in my mind and my heart and I hold on to them tightly.

The songs he would sing were always full of meaning. He would tell of great tales through his music, whether original or cover, each journey we would take would be full of imagery, meaning, foresight, as well as hindsight. Sometimes the hero would be dashing sometimes tortured, but always true.

I remember one night in particular watching him perform a song in public. The song was written about a little boy named Robbie Wade who had been tortured and abused by his parents until they eventually killed him. When my dad read the story in the paper it broke his heart. To find a way to relate to Robbie he locked himself in the attic for three days with no food or blankets, nothing for comfort. When he came out he had written a song he called, “Love and Bruises”. At the end of his set that night a woman approached him in tears, sobbing, “No one should ever have to endure what you have! My heart is with you!” .....she thought the song was about him. I think that was the first time it hit me, what my father really did that is. He told these stories as a way of teaching. He gave a voice to those who had none.

How has this made an impact on me, on who I am, and who I am yet to be? Simple, it has taught me to look beyond the obvious to what lies deeper, beneath the surface. It has taught me that there aren’t always happy endings, but no matter what, there are always lessons to be learned. I understand now, that to fully comprehend what someone has been through; you have to find a way to see through their eyes. I have learned that not everything that has meaning is tangible or even agreed upon by others. Above all, I have learned that I can affect people in ways I may not even realize, (beyond that I may not even know when I am doing it), and with that knowledge, I harbor a great responsibility to my listeners. I am responsible for the message I put out and I alone have the ability to choose not only what to share, but how to accept what is being shared. So, “…As we roll through the motions of white light and aging, of wine of roses, of candles and rain” I promise to “Take it as it comes” because as the song says , “there’s really not much changin’ it after it’s here!”

Who Am I?

This was written in response to a blog I read about defining the SELF. It just came out.

WHO AM I?

I never really know,
for it changes day to day,
based on a sum of,
experience on the way.

Each person that I know,
acquaintance, friend, or foe,
allows me in some way,
to to self actualize and grow.

People just like you,
who think and question too,
allow for my expansion,
as I discover points of view.

Even those who never wonder,
what it's all about,
reinforce my path is sure,
and I need not doubt.

Who am I? I don't know,
and I suspect I never will,
fully understand,
the grace from which I fell.

But this I tell you truly,
for I know it in my heart,
Whatever I am,
I've been it from the start.

I chose this life you see,
before I ever came,
even though I knew this life,
would include much loss and pain.

Through it all I stand tall,
though sometimes I may falter,
I know whats set before me,
is meant to make me stronger.

So I'll take my lumps,
and the accolades as well,
knowing that one day,
I'll meet my future SELF.

On the day we meet,
the one thing I want most,
is to love whose there before me,
regardless of her ghost.

So faced with the prospect,
of tomorrows aches,
I choose not to regret,
but to learn from my mistakes.

I swear to have integrity,
in everything I do,
I'll even do the hard things,
that I don't want to do.

I promise to laugh with joy,
every chance I get,
the feeling in THAT moment,
I never will forget.

I am grateful for each moment,
that molds and shapes ME,
into what one day I'm sure will be,
the me I'm meant to BE.