Feature

Here it comes, folks. None of us can stop it. It is as inevitable as death and taxes. Oh, yes, that’s what it is: taxes. Does the term 1040 strike terror into your hearts? “But,” you say, as though words could hold back the tide, “this is only March.” True, but remember, you only have until March forty-sixth to do the deed. (I prefer not to besmirch gentle April—see next month’s “Alive.”)

With this most frightening, almost immoral, subject breached and in the open, I must at this point render a confession: “I do not mind paying income tax.” There, I feel better having gotten that off my chest. Wait, I need to amend that slightly: “I do not mind paying MY FAIR SHARE OF income tax.”

In no way whatsoever am I complaining about my personal life style. I have never missed a meal due to lack of money—time, yes, but never due to money. I do not need or want the latest fashions in clothes. I love my three year-old little Honda Fit. Shirley and I live quite nicely in our 3BR, 2BA condo in Rossmoor. But it frosts my buns, now in their ninth decade, when people who make vastly more money and live infinitely more luxurious lives than I pay less in taxes and, indeed, sometimes even pay NO taxes.

Nor am I happy about my tax money purchasing $200 screw drivers, or whatever that nonsense was. I do not appreciate a Congress that bellows platitudes, keeps all their own perks perking, while the bulk of the nation’s government was shut down. I do not want my bucks keeping legislators in office for years while sitting on their hands and not attacking the problems we face as a nation; waiting to retire and become consultants in order to accumulate Jillions of dollars. (My fellow democrats, do not get holier than thou about that last issue. “I ain’t gonna tackle that one ‘cause I might not get re-elected,” crosses party lines.)

Why then do I not mind paying taxes? Simple. That is the necessary cost in order to live in, what in my opinion, is the greatest nation in the world—now or ever! Does “greatest” mean we have no problems? Of course, not. We got ‘em and we got ‘em in spades: race; internal violence; immigration; Social Security; policing the world, especially the 12th Century Middle East; the ugliness of modern politics; trying to force other countries to accept democracy; the list could on and almost everyone reading this could add to the list.

Of course we have problems, but if a person should want to call the sitting President, regardless of party, a dirty, rotten @#%&* or call him/her the greatest person alive, neither has to worry about being carted off in the middle of the night and simply disappearing.

Although I am not an observant or religious person, being Jewish probably makes me a bit more sensitive to this issue. Both my wife and I are first generation Americans, born in California and Pennsylvania, respectively. In order to escape the pogroms, my mother’s family came to this country from what was then Czarist Russia, now Lithuania, in 1905 when Mother was about eight months old. My father was born in England of English and German parents who, seeking a better life, brought him here in 1901 when he was four or five. They were both naturalized citizens, voted and paid taxes. I have voted in every election since I was first eligible in 1952—sometimes voting for someone I truly respected; sometimes just choosing the lesser of the “evils.”

A couple of chaps named Joe and Adolph would have seen to it that I would never see the light of day had those two families not come to the country where the streets were not paved with gold, but opportunity lay waiting for everyone equally. (Well, almost equally; there are still some who have to work a lot harder to achieve the degree of “equality” others enjoy.)

Even in our wonderful country some people still live in “ghettos.” Those ghettos, however, are economically imposed, not instigated by the government with imprisonment or even death being the punishment for violating the ghetto law. In my lifetime and the lifetimes of many of the readers of this treatise, governments of sophisticated, modern countries tried to systematically eliminate people because of their religion, ethnicity, sexual choice, and because they spoke out against the reigning authorities.

Here we may dislike or even despise someone else’s life style, but law and tradition prohibits us from harming them or hindering their opportunities. What percentage of one’s income is that worth? Ten percent? Twenty? Thirty? Although I cannot put a specific number on it, to me it’s a hell of a lot.

This November we who are caring citizens will have the magnificent opportunity to select a President and other high officials to govern us. About a third of us will vote one way; another third the other way; and the final third will decide the elections. How glorious is that! Or would we prefer that the gang with the most fire power and willingness to harm others decide for us all.That too has got to be worth a portion of our income.

The sad part of the process falls to the large numbers who cannot or will not take the time and energy to take advantage of this wonderful gift. I cannot help but wonder how much complaining and hot air those who do not vote generate, despite their complacency.

As a concerned citizen, I recognize many of the problems facing our country, but we are still able to discuss, debate, and, legislators willing, even tackle some of the problems. To solve the problems we will all have to give a little and settle for less than what we each consider ideal.

Guess what! The good ole U. S. of A. will, in William Faulkner’s words from his Nobel Prize speech, “not only survive, we will prevail.”

So if you haven’t already, sometime between March 1 and March 46,  PAY UP OR SHUT UP!
(It is the best investment you will ever make.)

It’s extremely difficult these days to pick up a newspaper, watch a television news broadcast or, for that matter, have a friendly discussion without being exposed to some incident involving the police. The featured stories cover a wide range of police activities. In some articles the officers are portrayed in a favorable light–helping to protect us from crime and violence. In other pieces they’re described in a negative manner–perhaps displaying some insensitivity.

It’s not my intent to either defend or condone these commentaries. I’ll leave that to professional journalists–all of whom are closer to the actual situations than I am. Rather I’d like to tell you about my experiences with the Danville Police Department. I’ll hide behind a mythical character named Darren who pursues an “after retirement investigation” into volunteering as a VIPS (Volunteers in Police Service.) Admittedly most of these stories are mine, but using Darren’s name protects my occasionally faulty memories and forgives any enthusiastic exaggerations.

“Darren”and his family moved to Danville almost five decades ago. They chose Danville because it was a nice, quiet, clean, and comfortable place. The schools were good – in fact they were excellent. The shops and restaurants were numerous. Not a lot of glitz and the thought of crime of any type was far away. Life was good, and they prospered.

The kids grew up, went to school, and moved away. Work slowed a bit, and retirement arrived. Ah, but now a new problem presented itself: How to fill in all those empty hours, and more important, how to repay the community for all that it had given to him and his family?

And then a neighbor introduced an exciting possibility. There was a small group of residents who worked with the Danville Police Department known as VIPS (Volunteers In Police Service.) This group was formed to give a community assist to the department. Here was a way to pay back the town he respected, and it even had a little bit of excitement connected to it. But how did all of this work?

The first thing he discovered was that the Danville Police Department, as well as the Alamo and Blackhawk neighborhoods are actually part of the Contra Costa County Sheriff’s Office. These local entities contract with the County to furnish police protection to their respective areas. The advantages of these contractual arrangements are numerous. The County is able to furnish well-trained, seasoned officers who rotate through the region. In addition, they provide the backup and support of a larger entity with resources not financially feasible for the locales. These resources include a professional crime lab, SWAT teams, three detention facilities, and a major communication network which covers a wide area. Our small towns have access to a major police department.

The next thing Darren found was that he needed a lot of education before he could even be considered as a VIPS. Potentially harmful situations might be encountered, or conditions could prove legally detrimental to the Town. This education was to be obtained by attending a series of classes conducted by the Danville Police Department and known as the Danville Police Citizens’ Academy. Darren was up for this and immediately enrolled in the next academy. Thankfully the wait wasn’t long as two such classes were held each year.

The classes weren’t simple. They extended over a multi-week period and were comprised of six three-hour evening sessions and two eight-hour Saturday events, but they were both interesting and proved to be exciting.

The two Saturdays included tours and activities that were a part of the regular officer training program. They visited the Martinez Detention Facility – thankfully as visitors not criminals. The class was allowed to drive regular patrol cars around the county test track – very exciting. Think about getting into a black and white and racing around the course! They toured the shooting range, and the class was permitted to fire weapons similar to those used by the officers. In the training facility in Concord, attendees were presented with potential real-life situations. The students were placed about twelve feet from a very large wall screen upon which potentially- threatening situations were displayed in video form. Class members demonstrated their ability to respond to these circumstances with the best possible snap decision. They learn a lot about themselves when placed in hazardous situations. The county-wide dispatch facility was also on the list. This is where 911 calls are taken and relayed to the officers in the field.

The evening classes were equally informative. Deputy District Attorneys from the Contra Costa County District Attorney’s Office spoke on the need for factual reports being received from the officers. These reports could then be used to win convictions. The time between arrests and trials is often long, and these reports help refresh officers’ memories. Regular beat officers spoke about how DUIs were handled.

Detectives shared investigative information into non-violent crimes which had occurred, such as identity theft. Police sergeants and officers spoke about the procedures that were used in high-speed chases and how the different police jurisdictions cooperated when needed. Actual videos were shown of routine traffic stops and how they could suddenly turn into gravely dangerous conditions for the officers. One develops a great deal of empathy for the officers when one realizes the difficulties that can occur.

Darren was made aware of how carelessly allowing newspapers to accumulate in front of a house can advertise that a family is gone for a week’s vacation, inviting burglary.

After completing the Academy he came to the conclusion that police officers are people – no different than our fellow workers or our friends. Oh, granted some are friendly and easy to get along with while others are more aloof, a bit standoffish. But what’s different about that? They have families, spouses, and children. They get tired, they laugh, and sometimes get a bit grouchy like we all do. One of the tasks that differentiates officers from the rest of us is that each day they are forced to make life-changing decisions.

The results of these decisions influence everyone involved. They can be praised for the successful choices and be admonished for any poor ones. Like most situations in life, the poor choices are splashed across the media, while the successful choices are often lost to the public.

Prior to this Academy most people’s only contact with the police was being stopped for some traffic violation or perhaps being questioned about a theft or some other crime they had witnessed. All in all, the academy was an eye opener, and an excited Darren applied for acceptance into the VIPS program. Little did he realize that the simple portion of the program was past, and there was still more complexity to come.

The time between offering his service and acceptance into the program seemed endless. One interview followed another, and a detailed background check seemed to go nowhere. But like all things in life, there is an end. Darren was given his uniform, a badge, and his smile got bigger and bigger. He was now a novice VIPS.

Part Two Next Month – Darren shares his continuing education and tells about some of his experiences. .

Have you ever found yourself singing in the shower, especially when you think no one is listening? Whether you can carry a tune or not, you’ve probably done it.

Sometimes there is a nice echo or reverberation, depending on how your bathroom is constructed. You don’t necessarily have to be musical to express your feelings through song; singing can be one of the most intimate and personal satisfactions in life.

“Singing, a great and most cherished gift and privilege, has magical qualities that transcend all words, lifts the spirit and the soul and frees the singer to hope and dream in ways the human spirit longs for,” said the Founding Director of the Blackhawk Chorus, Diane Gilfether.
It is, no doubt, the most wide-spread kind of music making—being the only one, besides whistling, that does not depend on another instrument, according to the Harvard Dictionary of Music.

Indeed, the voice, as manifested in singing, is truly the first instrument.
The human voice sets us apart from all other creatures on earth. It is certainly one of the defining aspects of being human. The voice’s ability to sing and change pitch, makes it the most highly developed and sophisticated of all musical instruments.

“Being part of something bigger than yourself is not only enjoyable but beautiful and emotionally stirring,” according to William Hartshorn in his article, “The Role of Listening.” In Basic Concepts in Music Education he wrote, “It’s important for a child to listen to his own singing as well as that of others. By listening to themselves they may also find a basis for improving the quality and blend of their own voice.”

Vocal music reached its zenith in terms of development and perfection long before instrumental music. Development of instruments started out very crudely; all hand-made without modern acoustical equipment.

The early Colonists brought to America what they knew and were accustomed to in Europe, and particularly in England.

Singing schools emerged in the early 18th Century to teach and enhance singing, primarily for religious services in the Puritan churches. These schools were well established. They were taught by itinerant singing masters and were paid for by the people attending the schools.

Their purpose was to develop the ability to read music and interpret a wide variety of choral works. The rudiments of music and sight-singing were the basic core subjects. For better than a century, the singing schools were the primary institutions for musical training. They were an integral and omnipresent feature of American life and customs. The schools were in essence the forebears of contemporary public school music. By the close of the 18th Century, singing schools had become widespread. These schools lasted about 150 years.

An interesting sidelight of singing is found in an article in “Making Music,” Singing Helps Parkinson’s Patients to Communicate Better. Professional singer, Linda Ronstadt, stated that because she has Parkinson’s disease she can no longer sing.

This was disputed by Melinda Kurowski, a board certified music therapist. She works with Parkinson patients and says “Yes! They can sing.” It takes more effort to sing than it does to speak. The patients take part in exercises that teaches them what is involved in breath support. This makes the process of singing much more enjoyable even though the effort to sing requires more energy and diligence for them.
Through singing exercises they learn how to project their voices and have better articulation. Kurowski said that she can help over 90 percent of Parkinson’s patients.

Nick Stewart and two students from Oxford Brooks University in the United Kingdom, conducted a study with over 375 people who either sang in choirs, sang alone or were members of a sports team.
Stewart asked them about their experiences in their activities and they said their activities seemed to enhance their sense of well-being. Those who were singers saw their choirs as more “meaningful” than those that did not sing and those involved in team sports.

“Whether a professional or an amateur, a soloist or a chorister, a beginner or a seasoned veteran, the outpouring of emotion from the dedicated singer reaches to the heart of the listener,” said Gilfether. “It creates a communication of boundless pleasure and spirituality in a most unique way.”

Today singing is heard everywhere you go; from the nursery through elementary, high school and college, community groups and at local and national events. The music industry has ballooned exponentially in the past years with technological innovations bringing music and singing to the forefront of daily life.

There are all kinds of singers, from the lowest bass to the highest soprano; from the wildest rocker to the accomplished opera diva. The wonderful human voice is a marvelous machine of tones, melodies, inflections and sounds that no other instrument can duplicate.

So use your voice for your own enjoyment or for others to hear, and gain the satisfaction and fun it gives you—whether you can carry a turn or not. It’s an instrument you’ll always have with you and one you can cherish for a lifetime.

The Danville Community Band presents “Museums Around the World,” its annual concert at the Blackhawk Museum, 3700 Blackhawk Plaza Circle, Danville, CA. Sunday, April 10. 2016 at 2:00 p.m. Concert included with museum entrance fee. (Free to museum members). Please submit your questions and comments to banddirector01@comcast.net. Visit our website at www.danvilleband.org for up-to-date information about the Danville Community Band.

Like the eternally youthful Jon Bon Jovi sings in his song, Just Older,

I like the bed I’m sleeping in, it’s just like me it’s broken in
It’s not old – just older.
Like a favorite pair of torn blue jeans, this skin I’m in it’s alright with me!
It’s not old – just older.

When that song came out, in the year 2000, Jon was roughly 38 years old. That’s not old at all. Today, John and I are roughly the same age, pushing 54 and we’re definitely getting older. However, he’s probably aged a little better thanks to massive collection of 30-year old rock star groupies. My magazine groupies tend to be 65-year old shut-ins with lots of cats.

Rationally, I know that I’m older, but most days I don’t really feel that much older than I did ten to twenty years ago. Sure, some days getting out of bed is a bit more challenging than it used to be, but overall I believe age is more a state of mind. My energy level is still strong, vibrant and viral. I’m up on popular music (FettyWap, Hozier and the Bieb), I like the current cast of SNL (Aidy Bryant, Taran Killam, Leslie Jones, Pete Davidson and Cecily Strong) and I can even name every player on the Golden State Warriors (including James Michael McAdoo, Festus Ezeli and Mo Buckets). Most nights I can stay awake until almost 11:30 PM, (later if I have get a nap during the day or drink an afternoon Red Bull), I still mow my own lawn and I regularly log 10,000 daily steps on my FitBit. It’s probably safe to say that most men in their 40s aspire to be in my type of physical and mental youthful state of mind and body.

In April of 2011, I wrote an article entitled, I Might Be a Dinosaur. Being 49 years old at the time, I was fearful that my friends and I were headed for extinction because we were showing signs of sluggishness, contentment, being slow to adapt and resistant of change. Since that time, I think I’ve stepped up my game. I’ve lost a little weight, updated my wardrobe at Forever 51 and I’ve been watching American Horror Story on the FX network despite the fact that I find it very disturbing. I might never be confused for a “Millennial,” but I wouldn’t necessarily want to be a snobby tech-centric, SOMO living, hoverboard burning, LIFT riding, skinny pants wearing, app loving 30-birdy.

If I were old, which I am not, I would know that I was old if I started to recognize the following signs:

– If you complain of being sore the day after an evening bocce ball match, you might be getting old.

– If you complain that your kid’s music is too loud… when they’re wearing headphones, you might be getting old.

– If you fall asleep at the dinner table during a “late” meal and it’s only 7:30, you might be getting old.

– If your idea of walking the dog is to the front door and back, you might be getting old.

– If your kids regularly ask you if you went to school with Abraham Lincoln, Amelia Earhart, Babe Ruth or Jesus, you might be getting old.

– If you color your hair because the drapes don’t match the carpet anymore, you might be getting old.

– If you avoid activities such as bowling, dancing and yard work because you can’t risk the chance of injury, you might be getting old.

– If your kids believe their parents might have been abducted by aliens and they’re now being raised by their grandparents, you might be getting old.

– If your wife bought you a piece of jewelry for Valentine’s Day with the inscription DNA, you might be getting old.

– If you only shop at stores that have a section of sensible shoes, you might be getting old.

– If your idea of “going commando” includes adult diapers, you might be getting old.

– If you need a nap before you have lunch on the weekend, you might be getting old.

– If you enjoy getting the monthly AARP magazine for the articles and discount coupons, you might be getting old.

– If most of your conversations begin with the term, “Back in my day,” you might be getting old.

– If the last song you downloaded, was buying the cassette version of “I Can’t Fight This Feeling” by REO Speedwagon, you might be getting old.

– If your idea of “going green” means more Kale in your diet, you might be getting old.

– If you can really relate to my monthly humor lifestyle articles in ALIVE, you might be getting old.

When I was in my teens, I thought anyone over 40 was old. When I was in my 30s, anyone in their 50s seemed old. Now that I’m in my 50s, 70 really doesn’t sound so old. I heard somewhere that as we age we begin to lose our hearing, sight and memory. At least I think that’s what someone said, I don’t really remember because I couldn’t hear or see that person very well. I’m not old, just older, just like a few of my childhood idols who still rock with a boat load of swag. Anyone ever heard of Sir Paul McCartney (73), Muhammad Ali (74), Dan Rather (84), Pete Rose (74), Hugh Heffner (89), Mean Joe Greene (69), Al Pacino (74), and Astronaut Buzz Aldrin (85)?

My dog Trudy is old. She’s 12 in people years, which is 84 in dog years. She sleeps a lot and moves slowly. She complains about her aches and pains (with grunts) and is often gassy. She is picky about what she eats and she goes outside about 40 times a day to “do her business.” Up until I wrote the part about going outside, I could have been describing my mother-in-law.

When I am old, I’ll look forward to taking care of my yard, playing golf with my buddies and cheering on our local sports teams. In other words, pretty much doing what I do now on any given weekend. My actual plan includes playing with my future grandchildren, traveling the world and taking advantage of the early bird special at Applebee’s. I don’t fear getting old, I’m just not in any hurry to get there. There’s too much to do leading up to the time when I can’t do it, whatever “it” happens to be. Until then, I’m not old—just getting older, day-by-day.