Tis NOT the Season.....yet! ;-)

Stop the Bombs! I Can't Hear What my Enemy is Saying.

September, 11, 2009. I remember the moment that I watched the second jet hit the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. I was in a hotel room in Cedar City, Utah where I was on a PTA-sponsored speaking tour of Utah schools. As I sat on my bed watching the events unfold, I went through a myriad of feelings in the space of those awful 15 or 20 minutes starting with a surreal fascination and curiosity followed by rage and intensity. But the feeling that has stuck with me almost continuously the last eight years is one of determination to not just sit in the comfort of my house and watch the killing and hating through my peripheral vision. It's easy to do that with a smorgasbord of pop culture continually screaming for attention. I try not to let the din of American commercialism cover up the crying happening daily in Iraq, Palestine, Afghanistan, and other turbulent regions.

I have to keep believing that all of us pushing and shoving for space on this planet really desire peace, love, and harmony more than war, hate, and disharmony. Surely—even the most radical extremist would prefer a comfortable abode for his family, sufficient food to eat, and just a bit extra to enjoy the simple things in life. The opium-farming Taliban Afghani would rather just sell his beautiful flowers for decoration if he could make enough money that way. The bomb-toting Hamas Palestinian youth would rather strap on a book bag on his way to a higher education if it were available. Poverty and lack of education breed desperation and hatred. We've seen it here in the US in our inner cities for years. We shouldn't be surprised that the same formula equals a similar result in other places.

I remember thinking naively, after Osama Bin Laden announced his ownership of the 9/11 tragedy, "I want to go and talk to him - ask him why he hates us so much. I want to play music for him and infuse a bit of love into his otherwise hate-consumed world." I thought at that time that he just needed to get to know us and he'd have a change of heart. I now feel that those on the extreme side of world conflict may be too immersed and invested in their causes to listen to reason. However, there are millions of others who are in the more reasonable middle ground. They should become our focus now.

I am convinced that the answer to solving the MIddle East conflict, is NOT found at the end of a gun rifle but at the end of an outstretched hand. Guns, bombs, and violence can only breed more of the same. The same could be said for other foreign policy hotspots around the world. During the last election, I remember Obama being castigated by the Republican candidates when he mentioned in a debate that if elected, he "could be willing to meet leaders of Iran, Syria, Cuba, Venezuela and North Korea in [his] first year of office." Despite the protests of his opponents, this simple statement by Obama was hailed by the majority of countries outside our shores. Perhaps they realized like Abraham Lincoln did that "Am I not destroying enemies when I make friends of them?" or Moshe Dyan who said, "If you want to make peace, you don't talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies."

That is why I was constantly confused at the Bush administration's insistence on NOT talking with those who fight against us. We can't bomb them into oblivion. Using force against them without discourse only ignorantly reinforces their idea that America is "occupying" their homeland. Emerging from the rubble of Baghdad, Kabul, and Gaza will be stronger fighters even more incensed and determined to bring about our demise. Bush and Cheney's "surge" and resolve to not discuss and educate was just pouring gasoline on an already growing fire.

During the first eight months of Obama's administration, I have observed his foreign policy start to take shape and have been cautiously optimistic as I've seen a hand outstretched in the direction of Russia, North Korea, and other nations deemed part of Bush's "Axis of Evil" only a year ago. More talking and overtures of peace and less yelling and posturing seems to be this administration's foreign policy mantra. We've carried a "big stick" long enough. Obama seems to want to infuse a little more "speak softly" into his foreign policy equation. From my vantage point, it's starting to work. The more this country presses the flesh, the less apt we are to press the red button.

Totally Consumed!

After a particularly long stretch of horrendous deadlines, intense clients, and restless nights, Petrina and I decided to stop the world and get off the next exit - (or at least go somewhere outside of cellphone coverage.) Luckily, here in the beautiful state of Utah, we didn’t have to go far. After throwing a dart at my map of the gorgeous High Uintahs, we aimed our GPS unit to Soapstone Basin where we would spend our weekend.

Luckily, a Rocky Mountain high-induced trip to REI a few years ago and I now have a garage filled with more than one would ever need to survive a year in the great outdoors. I loaded all I could squeeze into the XTerra and Petrina, baby, and I were off.

As we approached the area we had targeted for our quiet get away, I noticed an increasing number of large campgrounds - or I perhaps “compounds” would be a better term - each with a tent large enough for one of those traveling Mexican circuses, 4 to 5 jacked-up “Ram Tough” pickups, and enough camouflaged 4-wheelers to drive a small army. Even white-haired granny and the mullet-topped 6 year-old had their own souped-up vehicles.

Petrina and I like to camp in relative solace and so we drove past this scene out of the movie Deliverance and up a steep and deeply-rutted road where we were convinced that we would be alone. The perfect spot was found and in no time we had assembled Camp Bestor. I then strapped 6-month old Ella onto my backpack, applied the SPF 60, and off we went for a short hike.


As we returned to our camp, Petrina noticed in the distance one of the pickup trucks we had seen earlier. It was now spinning mud-splattering circles in the wet field of wild flowers in front of our camp. As we got closer, the “yeehaws” from within the cab of the truck were only matched by the manic barking of the one-eyed pitbull who was chasing after the truck despite getting covered tail to snout in mud and wild flowers. I shook my head and had to fight off the urge to confront the driver.

Then the truck suddenly stopped and a man stepped out of the cab and grabbed a chainsaw from the bed of the pickup. We watched incredulously as he began to cut down a “not-quite-dead” pine tree. After felling it, he sawed it into about 8 sections, tossed it all into the truck, did a few more muddy circles for good measure, and then headed back down to his camp.

By now, my blood was pumping and the peaceful environmentalist in me had now turned to a Greenpeace activist - “on crack!” Petrina, noticed my agitation and reminded me that our good ol’ boy “had a chainsaw.” So - we just grabbed a photo of his license plate and his bumper sticker that read “Gun Control means using BOTH hands!”)

That night I mused a lot about what we had observed and I came to the conclusion that some people are just “consumers” and feel that all that is around them is for the taking. “No one’s gonna tell me what I can or cannot do” seems to be the mantra. From wasteful burning of fuel in their gas-guzzling vehicles to the wanton destruction of nature’s beauty. Even the un-welcome noise they made until well past midnight was a selfish act by people that just don’t value others feelings. I wondered how people came to be this way and then I remembered grandma and the little 6-year old I had seen earlier. More was being passed down here than just genetics.



Petrina and I vowed that night that our little Ella would value the beauty and the sacred resources that nature provides. By teaching her to be selfless and thoughtful in her approach to enjoying Utah’s immense beauty, perhaps we could counterbalance others wanton selfishness.

Oh, by the way - the OTHER bumper sticker read:
I’m Hung like Einstein and Smart as a Horse.

I rest my case.

World According to Ella - episode#4

Nancy and John - You're Grounded!

Sometimes, when I hear politicians bloviate about which party did what when and where, it brings to mind memories of playground prattle and the mindless "blame games" that children play. The phrase, "He did it first!" and the mind-numbing "uh-huh, nuh uh, uh huh, nuh uh..."sound bad enough when uttered by snot-nosed kindergardeners, but when they're used by our elected officials to deflect blame, they're extremely off-putting.

The most recent example of this is the "Did Pelosi know of the Water-Boarding or Not" scandal. House Minority Leader John Boehner (R) tried his best to act like an intelligent congressman in blaming House Speaker Pelosi (D) that she indeed knew of the EIT's (Enhanced Interrogation Techniques) - most expressly "Water-boarding," but it still sounded like "neener neener" to me. Even her response sounded a bit like "I know you are, but what am I!"

Nancy and John, put down your ball bat and Barbie doll, come in from recess, and let's talk about this! No matter who knew about it - water boarding should NOT be part of the United States' interrogation techniques. And little Dickie Cheney, I don't care that this reprehensible technique may have brought some good results. A wrong is still a wrong!

When I hear the Republicans blame the Democrats for any problems we may be encountering and the Democrats blaming the Republicans for getting us in this mess, I'm reminded of a scenario that would happen in my house when I was growing up. Mom and Dad, upon arriving home from the rare date, found an apple core, half a PB&J sandwich, and a Snickers wrapper behind the TV. After lining us up in traditional Captain Von Trapp fashion, Dad asked each of us who the guilty culprit. Much like Boehner and Pelosi, we pointed to the other guy and said "He did it." Dad shook his head in disappointment and said, "If something like this happens when we're gone, you're ALL to blame. I expect you to work out your differences" and we were summarily sent to our rooms for an hour of solitary confinement.

So, Nancy and John, you and your congressional and senatorial compatriots are all to blame for the embarrassing way we appear to the world. We elected you to put your heads together and figure it out, not to just blame each other. So, up to your rooms! Perhaps skipping dinner tonight will help you remember that things like water-boarding should never happen in an evolved and civilized country like ours.

p.s. to my sisters Jill, Carrie, and John: It was me!

The World According to Ella - Vlog#1

Freeloading!

Over the last decade or so, I have debated most of my UNDER 30 friends about P2P music file sharing. The first √ checkpoint on their debate slate is to point out how these free downloads from Kazaa, Limewire and others help promote the artist and that once a free song is heard, often the whole CD is purchased. Huh? Doesn't mesh with the stats, kids! In the age group 15-30, 95% of the music is downloaded for free. And, as we all know, CDs are dying a slow and agonizing death. SO - the new music delivery is most certainly downloading.

ITunes began the download for $ and set the price point to $.99 a tune. I frankly think this is a bit high - especially since you get no cover art or liner notes AND the mp3 audio quality is not nearly as nice as a CD. But - at least people are paying.

I'd be curious as to some of the solutions you would recommend and your thoughts about P2P file sharing and music. I hope you'll comment.

Oh - by the way - here is a FREE DOWNLOAD that I just posted. "What's the difference?" you ask. The artist is giving his permission to download it!

CLICK here for Free MP3 Download

My "Brand Video" 2009 - I'm just a gimmick after all!

Kurt Bestor Brand Video#1 from Kurt Bestor on Vimeo.

Living for Eden - Benefit Concert

"I'm looking for a word.."

Not sure why - but I've always been a lover of words. It didn't hurt that my mom was an English teacher and always refers to a big Funk and Wagnalls dictionary when dinner conversation led to "what does THAT word mean?" Perhaps my love of Scrabble aided this infatuation with language, although I've since discovered that many great Scrabblers don't even know the definition for the words that they use. Whatever its origin, this love of words continues today.

I not only like knowing the etymology, but relish saying a word that is extra "tasty." For example - my favorite word "to eat" is "pulp." It's like a lucious "L sandwich" nestled between two plosive "p" slices. Even as I write this, I've said it 3 times - enjoying the feeling each time. Another word that comes to mind is "gifts." At first saying - it's an awkward one. But slow it down and enjoy that "f..t..s.." as the air goes past your pursed lips and then the tongue and teeth get together to enjoy the last two consonants. "Eating words" - always tastes good and is calorie free.

Lately, I've wanted to leave some etymological legacy" by creating a new word. Unfortunately, my attempts have been more like sniglets than lasting words. For example, "optigook" is one I've used to describe that squishy duck meat you find in waking eyes. The only word that has had decent usage and might have a chance of surviving my existence is "chud." Don't ask me why - but once I was searching for a term to describe the gelatinous substance between the folds of obese people. Not finding one - I coined the term "chud." Unless you have a better one, I'm sticking with it.

This has been a fairly useless blog post, but I guess - in a weird way - gives you some insight into the wacky brain of one crazed composer.