Lindell's Gospel

Me and Alison Krauss

I have a thing for Alison Kraus-- well, her music. I don't know her but I don't know Dorothy Dandridge and she's been my primary fantasy girl since I was 14.  Alison Kraus' music is cleansing.  Her voice is smooth…like  leather pants. It  feels expensive and real. Nothing manufactured.  Bonafide and certified voice. That's Alison Kraus.

Kraus makes 'stalking' seem like Thanksgiving Dinner: easy, normal and appropriate.  Her song, "Baby, Now that I've found you" is stunning in its simplicity; singular  in it's beauty -- and single-minded in its poetics. It's a remarkable song because one must 'hear' it and listen to it to get it.

"….I spent my life searching looking  that somebody , to make me feel like you. Now you tell me  that you want to leave me…but darling I just can't let you…"

"Baby, Now that I found you." captures you in pleasant  tones with a silky guitar and sweet calming refrain but it covers a relentless  structure of wanting…of being unable and wiling to let go.

What would happen if people held on to their dreams and stalked them with the intensity Kraus sings about? The object of her affection will not be allowed to leave. There's no escaping. Jokingly, I've thought about  this song in the context of the movie that featured James Caan and Kathy Bates. It was, I think, from a Stephen King novella.

But seriously, what would happen if we pursued the dreams of our youth with the same relentlessness Kraus speaks of? Why don't we DARE our dreams to NOT leave us? And threaten to furiously STALK  them if they turn the corner or begin to fade from  sight?

We embrace toxic employers and even more toxic people who care less about us than the pest man cares about the fire ants in the destroyed mound. We impugn what matters in exchange for embracing what does not. Such, I presume,  is the human condition. We allow people with health care to become the arbiters for people who have none. We allow persons who have the narrowest view of what America could be to shout the loudest about what America is.

It is, I believe, the little people who have no voice who deserve to be heard. Despite how baffled I am by the followers of Christianity -- and their often shameful actions -- I remain humbled at the courageousness of the founder. He was the guy who reached out for those considered unreachable. He spoke for those who had no voice and embraced those who proper society saw as untouchable. Christianity is cool because of the founder-- it is the followers who leave much to be desired.

How sad that Christians don't embrace the true meaning of the faith -- grace, giving, forgiveness, love,  trust--  with the same undercurrent of relentlessness Alison Kraus sings about in this remarkable song…"I build my world around you, I need you so..."

Dispatch from Denny's

It's late in the afternoon on the day before my birthday and I'm immersed in research for a film I"m working on about Charter Schools.  I'm starving so I head to Denny's. I started going  to Denny's as a kid growing up in Southern California. We were part of a car club-- a Toyota club--  and we'd always stop at a Denny's that dotted the frontage roads up and down I-5. Food at Denny's is consistent--whether you're in Honolulu or Oklahoma. Do they spend a fortune on training cooks and preparing recipes?   I ordered my $3.99 Grand Slam and continued to read. Several women, sitting at counter, wore  the Hi-jab, which first struck me as odd....what was more odd was that they were smoking cigarettes. I don't know why but I just assumed women didn't smoke in public. I don't know why I thought that.

I couldn't  focus on reading because the people were far too interesting. A tall man walks in wearing a Dallas Mavs jersey. It was a LaFrentz replica--  I thought: "Wasn't he was traded seven years ago?" The tall man asked  for a job application. The waitress gives him one and  he goes outside. He's completing it, I guess.

By now, food has arrived. My waitress is from Mexico.  I surmised it because she was wearing a Mexican flag as a lapel pin. In addition to my Grand Slam, I ordered hashbrowns with a side of grilled onions. When the waitress brought the food I noticed the onions weren't grilled, but slightly above raw. I looked at her and said, "Miss, could I have these grilled more." She smiled and walked away, not taking the onions. I thought this was odd, but I fail at communicating a lot.

A guy walks in wearing a shirt indicating he works for a trucking company. All of the waitresses greet him, "Hi George, how've you been?" George waves, walks to the counter and orders coffee. One of the waitress--not mine-- explains that she will make a fresh pot. George  lights up a cigarette, sitting next to the women who are smoking.

The tall man wearing the Rafe LaFrentz jersey walks back in with the completed application. 

Waitress: "You'll need to talk to the manager and he is only here on Wednesday's."

Tall Man: "What time?"

Waitress: "He's here from 11 to 4, but you should come after lunch rush, between 2 and 2:30.

She looks over his application, presumably to make sure it's been signed. " I see you have a college degree," she said. "The only opening we have is for dishwasher and busboy." The tall man says, "I also have a teaching certificate but I haven't been able to find any work. I'll do anything. I don't have a car but I live just three blocks away and I can walk. Will you tell the manager that I am dependable?"

She nodded.

The tall man thanked her and disappeared.

 I am disillusioned because I came to the restaurant to read the 39 articles about Charter Schools, but instead I am doing what I always do in restaurants....observe humanity.There used to be a restaurant called the "Copper Penny"at the corner of Sunset and Vine in Hollywood. I wish I had a penny for every minute me and crew sat there drinking coffee and watching the people of the night.

My waitress, who didn't take my hashbrowns, walks to the table and delivers a plate with more raw onions. I tried to mask my incredulity but failed. She smiled at me and said, 'More." 

I realized we weren't communicating. The 'more' that was in my head, 'wasn't the 'more' that was in hers. The eggs, however, were perfect. One should take their victories where they are found.

In the background I heard,"George, that fresh coffee is almost ready." There was a cloud of smoke in the smoking section and I looked down at the two plates of raw onions. More...yes more than I wanted.

Note to Christian Ministers: Stand up for what's right, not racism.

Is the mood in the country becoming less civil or is it an illusion?  President Jimmy Carter has powerful commentary about the role of race in the Nation's fabric.  Although the President's insight is indispensable, I  think that Christian ministers have the greater responsibility to adjust  their messages to take us down a different road. Ministers  must confront this nastiness with precision, purpose and power.  And, moreover, begin 'calling out'  real Christians on their behavior.  If any Pastor, preacher or teacher needs an idea for a sermon on racism, allow me to suggest borrowing  from the great Rev. Dr. Billy Graham.  Download Billy_Grahan_detroit_2005

Marble Towers, Nighttime Sky; An Old Lady, Today, Would Cry...

My great Aunt once said to me, 'it means something to be a Kennedy."  Every 'Negro,' she said, 'owes the Kennedy's a debt." I was a kid-- a first grader-- so I didn't understand.  I was at Martin Van Lucas elementary school when they hurried the student's home saying, 'the President had been shot.' I walked home to a house filled with women-- all crying. To this day, I remember the tears. A few years later, as I awakened  to dress for school, my great Aunt was crying again. She explained that down Figueora Street, a few miles North from our little house, another Kennedy has been murdered. Although she is long since dead-- now some 30 years--she would cry today because another Kennedy -- whom she loved with such matchless devotion-- no longer breathes  in this world. Two by an assassin's bullet-- another by a murderous growth. Yes, in America, it does mean something to be a Kennedy. The marble towers, standing tall in the night sky, express the far-flung loneliness of those who dared to dream.

Lalee’s Kin: The Legacy of Cotton

“LaLee’s Kin: The Legacy of Cotton” is a startling documentary film. I love ‘docs’ and if I could, I would be working on three at a time. The first time I watched “LaLee’s Kin” I came in about 1/3 of the way through the film. Naively, I thought the film was a historical piece about Mississippi sharecropping, circa 1940s. I dropped my cup upon realized this film was about something going on today (that was in 2002.) LaLee Wallace is a 62-year old grandmother living in West Tallahatchie County, one the poorest areas in the U.S.

 Mississippi has a dark and desolate past—a placed haunted by the ghosts of senseless murders, lynching and sadness. There are no lynchings and murder in LaLee’s Kin, but there’s a lot of sadness. What happened to LaLee’s ‘American dream?” Where along the way did she end up living a sharecropper’s life in 2002 that was thematically identical to a sharecropper’s life in 1902? LaLee’s Kin – to a U.S. audience—causes people to ask: “Is this really the United States?” Well, it is—for many people. The stardust left by the American dream is sawdust for many who live in poverty. 

MOH-- An Original Score for a new television series

Download Museums_heartland_presentation_soundtrack

1. Original Music by Pierre
2. Original Artwork by Whitney
3. Original Research by Kendall
4. Original Cinematography by Ron 

Executive Produced by-- well, you know.  And, the  4:00 trailer for the show:  COMING SOON. 

Rear Windows, Back Door and Voyeurs: Kelly, Stewart and Burr Express the Human Condition

The unspoken joke is that only in the movies could a stunning beauty like Lisa Carol Fremont (played by Grace Kelley) throw themselves at a stiff like L.B. Jeffries (James Stewart)  and he ‘can’t make up his mind whether he’s interested in her or not.” I’ve always found this amusing. Another way, perhaps, that Alfred Hitchcock, toys with us.

 There isn’t much humor in “Rear Window.” It’s dark and filled with anguish. It is about the loneliness and alienation that stalks all of us. It about how we crave acceptance and companionship, yet see it elusively slip just beyond our grasp.

 Yes, there is a murder in “Rear Window”--but the murder is of less importance ( as in all  of Hitch's work) than what we learn about the characters—and, ourselves. “Rear Window” demands multiple viewings because of the intricate nuances that permeate his work. It stands above “Vertigo” and “North by Northwest” because it unravels the voyeuristic tendencies that lives inside each of us…and, how those tendencies turn us inward, drawing us more into ourselves making us more vulnerable to the effects of alienation. “Rear Window” is not a cautionary tale—unless, of course, you live in an apartment complex with nosy neighbors and have a penchant for murder.  

An Affair to Remember: Kerr, Grant and the closest thing to heaven.

In every love affair, there is a moment when you have the opportunity to simply be decent. After the euphoria departs and is replaced with a knowing this real and enduring is the point where love can begin. “An Affair to Remembers” glides along the course. Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr meet and fall in love in a perfect shipboard romance.

The pair—betrothed to other lovers—made a unique pact: “If what we feel is real, let’s meet at the highest point in New York—the top of the Empire State Building—in six months.” Such was the conflict.

 Would this --after returning separately to their lives and their loves-- survive or tumble onto the quiet slope of memory. At the agreed upon moment, six months later, only one of the lovers arrives at New York’s nearest point to heaven. The story, really, begins here.  The lovers—and their love—matures and is tested. What they learn gives tacit hope to all who in the wilderness of loneliness hope for an enduring love, a last love…one that is remembered.

Get yo' Kicks on Route-66, but get yo' vibe on I-35...

The unity of the nation, it has been often said, is sustained by 'free communication of thought" and easy transportation of people and goods. The ceaseless flow of information throughout the Republic is matched by individual and commercial movement over a vast system of interconnected highways. Together, the uniting forces of our communication and transportation system are dynamic elements in producing what we know as the 'United States!   

After decades of  crossing the country at a 'comfortable cruising altitude' of 33,000 feet, I've been on a series of driving adventures. The Interstate highways provide a more determinant  lens to see this amazing country. I am started by  what--and whom--  I've seen. When you're a kid from the inner city and you see a sign for 'wild hogs,' it's startling. There is no end to the adventures one can have along I-35. 

Dispatch from somewhere out on U.S. 287

Out on the fringes of West Texas, where the sun never sets there is a story of love and loss that is breathless. In one afternoon, when the late summer sun slammed mercilessly against the unyielding soil, a 15 year old girl decided her forbidden love was too much to bear. At the hour of choice, which arrived as a graceless edifice framed against the late summer afternoon, she posted a letter. In the letter, there was the chill of despair and the renunciation of all she knew. She walked the dusty road; the buildings and trees becoming dull, shapeless blotches as the colorless entry to death's doorway beckoned with a sly smile. The Indians call the place, Medicine Mounds. They say the wave of the spirit runs strong there. It is tangible. Yes, it is.