Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Goodbye Lucy O'Donnell

I was listening to NPR this morning and heard that Lucy O’Donnell Vodden, age 46, died yesterday, apparently of complications from her battle with lupus. Probably like you, I had no idea who Lucy was. Come to find out, she was once something of a muse, a friend for a boy named Julian, and the inspiration for a timeless hit song from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

In 1966, Julian Lennon came home with a drawing of his friend Lucy O’Donnell. In his drawing, she had diamonds for eyes. Young Julian showed his father the drawing and told him it was “Lucy in the sky with diamonds.” Despite the song’s innocent inspiration, Lewis Carroll references, and odd chord structure and meter (6/8 verses and 4/4 chorus), it was banned by the BBC because of its drug references.

For whatever reason, the story got me thinking about muses; the individuals, mostly women I suppose, who inspired artists—painters, poets, musicians, and photographers alike. For generations, scholars—and Nat King Cole—have debated the origin of La Gioconda—The Mona Lisa. Who was she? What brought that smile? Layla was inspired by Eric Clapton’s obsession with model Patty Boyd, who at the time was married to friend George Harrison. How many museums, book shelves, or iPods are filled thanks to a glimpse, a chance meeting, a lifetime relationship, or a broken heart?

So goodbye Lucy O’Donnell. The world never met you, but you live on thanks to your inspiration of John Lennon and Paul McCartney, who co-wrote your song. I think I’ll pull out my iPod and fire up some Beatles just for you.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Savannah

There is something mystical about Savannah, Georgia. I was fortunate to spend a few days there this week for a conference. And during those three days and nights, I soaked in all I could of this special port city.

Savannah has a unique texture, a compelling contrast of industrial harshness, tourism, food, and art. Underlying virtually everything there is the overwhelming depth of history and the constant flow of the ships and commerce giving life to the city and the state of Georgia on the Savannah River. The river and the massive ships that navigate her waters is a constant backdrop to all that happens here. But among the city streets and the Spanish moss draped parks are wonderful restaurants, amazing art galleries, and scores of art students.

There’s something about Savannah that touches my soul. There’s so much history here—for the state of Georgia, the town, and for me, as well. For whatever reason, a visit here is rejuvenating, sparking my imagination and my passion for things that are special to me.

One of my favorite places in Savannah is Forsyth Park, a thirty-acre gem surrounded by Savannah’s history neighborhoods and inns. The centerpiece of the park is a spectacular cast iron fountain purchased from France in 1851. I try to make time for a visit to this special place every time I visit Savannah. Certainly, several of what I consider to be my best and favorite photos were taken here—moments behind and away from the camera that I cherish.

On this trip to Forsyth Park, I was forced to dodge raindrops, several times seeking shelter among the Spanish moss draped oak trees. I guess that was somehow appropriate. But as sprinkles turned into a steady rain, I encountered an adorable couple walking under an umbrella near the fountain. After a few moments, they sat down on one of the benches ringing the waters. I asked if I could photograph them and they agreed. When I finished shooting, the gentleman told me, “If you need our names, we’re Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.”

Forest Gump visited this park. And I guess he was right. “Life is like a box of chocolates. You just never know what you’re gonna get.”

Monday, September 14, 2009

Deus Ex Machine

I had the opportunity today to hear U.S. Representative John Barrow speak about the proposed cap and trade legislation. The House passed a bill containing a cap and trade provision months ago, albeit without the vote of Congressman Barrow, and the matter is now in the hands of the Senate. Barrow, an unabashed Blue-Dog Democrat, has been supportive of Georgia’s electric utilities, including cooperatives, but more importantly, he has been a proponent of affordable energy for Georgia consumers and industry.

Two of Barrow’s points really hit home for me. The first was a comparison of the energy policy work of Nancy Pelosi, Henry Waxman, and Harry Reid to “deus ex machine”. Now, if you’re not a theatre or film major, then like me, you probably haven’t heard that term. It’s Latin for “God from the machine” or sometimes “God in a box”. And it’s a plot device in which something miraculously appears to help a character to overcome a seemingly insolvable predicament. It’s also apparently considered to be a poor storytelling technique. In the case of the American Clean Energy and Security Act of 2009, it’s a pretty apt term.

According to Representative Barrow, Democrats are trying to push through legislation that raises electricity prices in hopes that technology will emerge allowing future energy needs to be met without carbon release. Ergo deus ex machine. That technology is far off from being born. Heck, it isn’t even a glimmer in daddy’s eye. It’s a bad plot. And Netflix probably won’t take this one back.

Congressman Barrow’s also comparing carbon reduction to the U.S.’s drive to reach the moon in the 1960s. According to Barrow, the country’s leadership declared that a moon landing was a critical priority. Scientists and money were thrown at the problem. If global warming is really a threat, why weren’t the stimulus plan bucks spent on carbon sequestration technology, DC transmission lines or superconductors to transmit wind energy to population centers. Instead, Democrats are hoping an environment of high energy costs will spur independent advances in technology.

As inspiring as Representative Barrow’s words were to me, they only made three pairs of eyes glaze over at the dinner table tonight. Energy policy just isn’t racy. Unfortunately, Americans will not take interest in what the Democrats have done to them until they discover that energy prices are too expensive. And then conservation will happen—the fallback position for Democrats should dues ex machine fail to appear at the eleventh hour.

Grab some popcorn and keep your seat. Thanks to the help of Blue Dog Democrats, there’s a lot of plot left.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

A Good Walk

September brought a special surprise today; cool weather—perfect conditions for eighteen holes of golf. Today, I had the chance to play Atlanta’s East Lake Golf Club, one of the true gems of golf in America. Over the years, I’ve been able to play some amazing courses, but I truly believe that East Lake is golf as it was intended.

East Lake Golf Club was built in 1906 as the Atlanta Athletic Club. The director of the club’s athletic program was none other than John Heisman. It was built in a time and place where there were no automobiles, let alone golf carts. The sense of history just oozes out of the grounds and striking Tudor clubhouse. Inside the clubhouse is an impressive collection of memorabilia from Bobby Jones, one of American golf’s pioneers and a club member. In 1966, the course was sold and East Lake Golf Club was formed. Over the years, the course has hosted many championships, including a Ryder Cup.

There are still no golf carts at East Lake. So four of us, with a pair of double-bagging caddies, struck out in the cool, overcast morning. The tight zoysia fairways and extremely fast greens were a challenge, but it was the thick rough that did me in. Regardless of my score—and honestly, I did okay on a course hosting a PGA tournament, the Tour Championship, in three weeks—it was a magical day.

Walking those plush, hilly grounds inside the ropes and among the grandstands and hospitality tents being erected, it was great to soak in a little of the mystique of being a pro golfer, even without the game. But most of all, it was fabulous to walk these historic fairways and to work with a great caddy (thanks Ransom)—to play the game as it was intended.