The Day the Music Lived

Every time I stood up, I saw flashing lights and felt as if I was going to pass out. Though my most recent chemo infusion was two weeks ago, I continued to suffer its side effects. As I lay on the sofa where I tried in vain to muster the energy to get up and do something productive, when a Beatles song, “Penny Lane,” cued up on the radio. I cannot listen to the Beatles without recalling the days in 1964 in which I was introduced to the British rock group.

 

Military service isolates its members to varying degrees from popular culture in the civilian world. Every weekday the occupants of barracks on the US Naval Training Station in Bainbridge, Maryland assembled on the roadway in front of the World War One- vintage wooden structures and marched in military formation to the Communications Technician School, then called Radio “A” School. The barracks were not air conditioned, resulting in open windows to catch whatever breeze presented itself. One memorable day, we were taking our usual shortcut to barracks when I heard music coming from an open window as we passed.

Wow, I thought. Who is that?

I had given up on ever hearing another revolution in music like Bill Haley and the Comets, Fats Domino, and Jerry Lee Lewis and that of Elvis's magic in his recording of "Heartbreak Hotel"during the first incarnation of rock music. The music I heard that day haunted me. I decided that it must have been a throw-away tune that some barracks dweller would appreciate but would disappear into his record collection to be heard only by his friends.

The “A” school had a policy in which, at the halfway point of the six-month long course, attendees in the top 10 percent of the class would be awarded with a day off. I was too broke to go off base, so I resolved to spend my free day at the base library, then attend a movie at the base theater with the last few coins in my possession before payday (“the day the eagle shits.” In Navy parlance).

An open rack in the library featured a teen magazine with the image of four young men on the cover.

Holy crap,” I thought. Look at all that hair!

The magazine cover featured the Beatles, of course, and "all that hair" would be considered neatly trimmed by the standards that followed. The song I heard as I marched under a barracks open window was “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” Soon after that day, my long-hoped-for revolution in Rock music arrived. Now, sixty-four years later, I remain a faithful Beatles fan, and I long for the third revolution in rock music, when I might again be thrilled by a new sound- a sound not before heard by human ears; a "third wave" in rock music.

I am an old man now, so please hurry.

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Does Cancer Have a "Skip" Button?

 

Surviving Amateurish Advertising

On making the decision to do a series of blogs about the personal experience of dealing with a cancer diagnosis, I had not counted on the ravages of chemo treatments side effects, especially the deep and demotivating fatigue. During those times I had no willingness to do anything other than lie on the sofa with YouTube to keep me company.

In time, I became steeped in video streaming lore and culture. I watched hours of content, advertising, and content about content. I watched streaming videos to make of me something of an expert in its advertising: enough to warrant a letter to the king of video streaming services.

 Dear YouTube.

I have enjoyed many of your streaming channels ranging in interest to cabbage recipes to Kantian ethics, and from writing with ink to zebra camouflage, and I have nothing but praise for your contributors. However, most of your advertising has the “look and feel” of promotional videos produced by a cinematography classroom of eight-year-olds.

Wait. I take that back. Our theoretical classroom could produce more professional quality ads than a hefty percentage of ads I see on your service.

Let me offer some advice to your advertisers. First and most important, any ad that runs longer than thirty seconds must be interesting if I, for one, am going to give it my attention. Ads that tip the clock at forty-five seconds must be interesting and informative. If an ad lasts longer than forty-five seconds, it must be interesting, informative, and entertaining. Advertising that does not meet these criteria gets skipped. Most people simply go for another beer or coffee during those ninety-second ads that feature screeching or ultra-authoritative voices that reek of desperation.

C’mon, YouTube, you damn near own a monopoly in the service you provide, and yet your advertising comes across like amateur hour. You are a visual media. Act like it. Get imaginative companies to sponsor your product.

With our mutual interests at heart, I am,

 Sincerely,

Ken Shelton

 

I had subscribed to YouTubes competitor, Nebula, but soon ran into a problem there: That streaming service does not like controversial topics, and so one of my favorite channels left Nebula rather than compromise their message. Kudos to them, but woe to me. I’m back to YouTube for cutting edge video content  peppered with amateurish, boring, ads that left nothing to do to break the monotony and misery that follows chemo treatments.

͢Those treatments are completed now, and the fatigue and nausea side effects have all but disappeared. Now, perhaps, I can get back to my original intent here—that of offering friendly, upbeat advice for the cancer novice.

Honestly, there isn’t a whole lot of advice I can offer other than, if you’re going into chemo, be prepared for a lot of television. But if you intend to spend your time on video streaming services, make sure spare batteries are at hand, super-easy-to-prepare meals are stocked in, and your remote “skip ad” button is functioning.

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