Rabbit's Feet

I am always thinking about topics.  I am looking for topics that I can write about on my personal and business blogs.  I am looking for topics that I can speak about at my local Toastmaster’s meetings.  Sometimes the topics are abundant and there are plenty to choose from.  Other times it is like looking for water in the desert.  

Yesterday, April 24, 2011, upon sending out my monthly letter I made a mental note that I would like to have another posting before month’s end.  The ink was barely dry on that mental note when an idea just popped into my head.  The idea was Rabbit’s Feet.  I am not sure why or how that idea bubbled so quickly and easily to the surface.  I am guessing it may have been do to the slight fever signaling an oncoming head cold.  No matter what the idea came and I am running with it.

Upon thinking about Rabbit’s Feet, the first thing that came to my mind was that I had not thought about Rabbit’s Feet for a long time and I could not remember the last time I actually saw one.  They were quite popular when I was growing up in Detroit.  I remember several of my friends and schoolmates having them.  These white or gray furry things mounted on a key-chain were a common site hanging from the belt loops of boys pants.  I cannot remember where the girls put them.  No school children used backpacks in those days or they would have been hung on those.

While many had Rabbit’s Feet, I never had one and never cared to have one.  I never valued lucky charms, amulets, or talismans.  I valued more something that belonged to an ancestor in the family.  Being Armenian and given how we ended up in the United States made such relics rare.  I suppose that rarity made the few things that were around all the more precious.  

So, what is a Rabbit’s Foot and why is it a lucky charm to some?  A little web search uncovered the following:

• In Western Europe, prior to 600 B.C., man considered rabbits to be sacred, because of their belief that spirits inhabited the bodies of animals, and also because of their belief that man directly descended from a select few of these animals.  http://www.coolquiz.com/trivia/explain/docs/rabbits.asp
  
• In some cultures, the foot of a rabbit is carried as an amulet believed to bring good luck. This belief is held by individuals in many parts of the world including Europe, China, Africa, and North and South America. It is likely that this belief has existed in Europe since 600 BC amongst Celtic people living in Britain. In variations of this superstition, the donor rabbit must possess certain attributes, or have been killed in a particular place, or killed by a particular method, or by a person possessing particular attributes (e.g. by a cross-eyed man).  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbit%27s_foot
• Also from Wikipedia:
  The belief in North American folklore may originate in the system of African-American folk magic known as hoodoo. A number of strictures attached to the charm that are now observed mostly in the breach:

• First, not any foot from a rabbit will do: it is the left hind foot of a rabbit that is useful as a charm.

• Second, not any left hind foot of a rabbit will do; the rabbit must have been shot or otherwise captured in a cemetery.

• Third, at least according to some sources, not any left hind foot of a rabbit shot in a cemetery will do: the phase of the moon is also important. Some authorities say that the rabbit must be taken in the full moon, while others hold instead that the rabbit must be taken in the new moon.

• Some sources say instead that the rabbit must be taken on a Friday, or a rainy Friday, or Friday the 13th. Some sources say that the rabbit should be shot with a silver bullet, while others say that the foot must be cut off while the rabbit is still alive

I am too much a statistician to believe in amulets or charms to influence the probability of certain outcomes.  I believe opportunities come along everyday to almost everyone.  It is the rare few that a actively on the lookout for such and ready, willing, and able to act when one is presented.

Growing up, I never thought the Rabbit’s Feet my chums had were real.  I just assumed they were fake furry things.  I do not believe I actually ever touched or felt one.  I was a little surprised when I did that I could feel the bones or the plastic core shaped like a bone.  I also believed, until yesterday, that Rabbit’s Feet were a thing of the past.  A quick internet search dispelled that rumor.  Rabbit’s Feet are easily and economically available.  You can buy them in various primary and secondary colors for $.99 each or two for $.99 in natural colors.  I find it hard to believe that they were any cheaper back in the 1960s.

Seeing these products on Amazon.com, I wondered who is still buying them and why? Do people still carry them around?  I do not think I have seen anyone carry one around.  Maybe they are still popular among the school children.  I have no idea since I am not often around that age group.  

For the life of me, I never understood why every other kid had a Rabbit’s Foot when I was in elementary school.  Was it a fad?  Was it family tradition?  I have no idea.  I just know I never had one and never wanted one.  Somehow, the prevalence of this amulet back in the day was fascinating enough to  reside in the recesses of my memory all these years.   Why it popped up now is a mystery to me.  

As stated above, I am too much of a statistician to believe that luck, or rather probability, is influenced by an amulet or talisman of any kind.  Baseball pitchers are notorious for having a favorite hat, glove, and other routines that they believe are part of their winning streak.  My paternal Grandmother believed in numerology and had several books on the subject to help her pick the winning lottery numbers.  I have friends that go to casinos all the time.  They all think they can beat the odds and each one of them has a mental Rabbit’s Foot they call a system.

People often claim about having luck or not having luck.  Much of what is called luck are opportunities afford to almost everyone... those with luck simply see the opportunities and seize them.  Success breeds the confidence to keep it up.  Success comes from hard work and perseverance.  

Let me finish this posting with two quotes that sum up how I look at luck.   The first is from Thomas Edison who said “Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."  Another Thomas, Thomas Jefferson, said:  “I'm a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it."

April 2011: Reflections on the Armenian Genocide

Scene from 4-24-11 demonstration in Istanbul
Pnoto: Cigdem Mater

April 10:  I have dedicated every April letter to writing about the Genocide of the Armenians that occurring in the waning days of the Ottoman Empire from 1915 to 1920.  I find it strange this year that I am feeling like an empty vessel in this regard.   Well that is how I feel today.

Why?

Have I written all I can about it?  Or am I just feeling that for all the deep insights and passionate expression of the injustice, we are just banging our heads against a rubber wall.

We will dutifully write our congressmen.  We will hope and pray that the American President uses the word Genocide when he gives his remarks commemorating the tragedy that befell our people.

Maybe it is simply that April 24^th, the day of commemoration, falls on Easter Sunday this year. Easter Sunday is a joyous day of rebirth in which all Christians rejoice in the forgiveness of our sins and realize the potential of everlasting life.   Maybe, this year, God is telling us to take a break, to take some deep breaths and reflect on what we really want.

As a people, we will not do that.  We will commemorate the Genocide but not on Easter Sunday.  We will commemorate it the next day on April 25^th.  We will have rallies.  We will gather and listen to speeches.  We will lament that Barack Obama did not use the word Genocide yet again.

There are almost no survivors of those dismal days still with us.  Those precious few are at least 95 years old.  They will not play a central role in the commemorations. 

In one sense, by waiting and being firm in their position that it was not Genocide, Turkey is slowly winning.  With the passing of years, the events of nearly one hundred years ago are becoming more history than current events.  I have often likened it to the plight of American Indians.  This country treated them horribly.  We are now acknowledging that but that is about it.  It happened a long time ago.  It was a dark period of our history that we are not proud of and that is about it.  I can see the same thing happening in Turkey.  This is, of course, what the government is doing.  There is much more going on in Turkey or so I am always being told.

There are no survivors left in our family.  My maternal Grandmother was the last and she passed away in 2007.  My grandfathers died in 1959 and 1974.  Various great aunts and uncles are all gone as well.  The link to what they called the “old country” is all gone.  They are all buried in the United States where they lived the majority of their lives. 

Armenians are not the only people to have suffered such a move.  There are very few Christians and Jews left not only in Turkey but in Iraq, Iran, Syria, and Egypt per the CIA World Factbook.  These numbers, percentage-wise, would have looked different 100 years ago.

Country	% Muslim
Egypt	90%
Iran	98%
Iraq	97%
Syria	90%
Turkey	99.8%

Many Jews and Christians have been displaced from their ancestral homes in Iran and Iraq.  It is and is not about religion.  Really bright intellectual people will say it is not about religion.   It is a socio-political-economic problem.   I do not always buy into that view entirely.  I am not so sure how to separate the religion vector from all this.

While we fight and struggle to right a 96 year old wrong.  The world moves on.  Turkey, as mentioned is struggling with many issues relating to a rising tide of Islam, a tolerance movement, citizens revealing and reveling in their minority heritage, and the old guard trying to protect the secular republican ideals and state created by Ataturk.   Turkey could have protests the likes of which have toppled governments in Egypt, Tunisia, and still evolving in Bahrain, Syria, and other countries.  What is happening in Libya is simply horrible.

So, what is the 96 year old issue that we Armenians keep bringing up year after year compared to the forces of change now rocking the Middle East.  Sure, we need to pursue this.   But, we also need to navigate within and around the upheavals happening in the Middle East.  What if such upheavals occur in Turkey, Azerbaijan, or Georgia?  What does that mean for Armenia and Armenia’s security?  As a collective people, we need to make sure that the territorial integrity of Armenia and Karabagh remain intact and our brothers and sisters there stay safe and secure.

What if such an upheaval comes to Armenia?  It is certainly possible.  The government there is arguably in the hands of or heavily influenced by oligarchs.  Corruption in Armenia is a real issue and the fairness of elections is a matter of serious contention.  It is a very poor country.  The real shame is that it did not have to be.

What if such an uprising occurs in Armenia?  Will that give Turkey the opportunity to annex the last bit of Armenian land in the region?  Will it afford Azerbaijan the chance it has been waiting for to trying to take back Karabagh and perhaps go further into Armenia?  These might be the kinds of issues we probably need to consider in addition to the annual protests, commemorations, and beseeching of US and Turkish governments to admit what really happened.

Some Armenian brothers and sisters in Germany have created a new site:  http://www.1915club.com/  The site is dedicate to preserving on-line the Armenians and Armenian life in the Armenian Highlands now commonly referred to as Anatolia.  It has just begun and and has some great promise (though I would prefer authentic instrumented soundtrack… but that is just me.)  It is worth checking out and contributing in terms of content or donation if you are so motivated.

April 15:  I am out of whatever Armenian funk I was in.  Sometimes it is just a bit frustrating to be Armenian.  Allow me to elaborate a bit.

The Diasporan Armenians and the citizens of the Republic of Armenia are not as united as they could and should be.  I personally felt a fair number of my brothers and sisters there looking at me as a foreigner.  Of course, I am.  I am a citizen of the United States of America and not the Republic of Armenia.  I have not lived in Beirut nor in Istanbul.  I grew up in Detroit, Michigan.

I have not lived in an environment where there is a large concentration of Armenian’s around.  I do not know the language as well as I should.   I do not understand fully what is going on it Turkey, Lebanon, Syria, or even LA.

It matters not.  I feel as Armenian as anyone, no matter how they view me.  I live a dual life.  I live and Armenian-American life.  I can look and act like a typical American and yet be Armenian at the same time

How are things changing in Turkey?  There will be a second annual April 24^th Commemoration in Taksim Square in Istanbul.  The commemoration is sponsored by the Human Rights Association, Turkey Istanbul Branch - The Committee Against Racism and Discrimination.  The commemoration is not sponsored by Armenians.

How have things not changed in Turkey?  This week in Bismal a district of Diyarbekir (the current manifestation of the ancient Armenian capital Dikranagert) there were protests resulting in the killing of at least one protester.  Per the Hurriyet Daily News, the Supreme Election Board of the country vetoed the candidacy of twelve independent candidates.    As the candidates were Kurdish, government foul play was highly suspected.  There was a national uprising and protests that resulted in one death which sparked more protests.

How have things not changed in Turkey and how Armenians react to things?  There was a also a lot of buzz on the Armenian Listserv about the vandalizing of the ruins of a monastery near Van and Aghtamar.   There were debates about the newsworthiness of the report, if Kurds really had done this as reported, and using the word “Kurds” was insensitive or even racist in some convoluted way. 

Some people living around whatever is left of Armenian religious building Turkey may well be racist.  Others may simply know that the Armenians probably are not coming back to claim any of these structures and stones.  The availability of precut stones is valued for construction and repair of the humble abodes in some of these rural locales.   We are saddened by the photos of Armenian cross stones used for wall construction or table tops.   We are sick to our stomachs when we say the same relics used as stair steps or even worse urinals.  There is a huge frustration among Armenians that so few care, that we can do nothing about it, and a vast majority of sites are gone.  Look at the before and after photos on just one site to get a feel for what has happened http://forum.armkb.com/english-only/31609-armenian-churches-then-now.html

Lots of things change in 100 years.  No matter what Armenians in the Diaspora claim or claim to want, we have little voice in Turkey and perhaps just a bit more in Armenia. 

April 16:  In settling in for a night’s sleep, I did what many Americans with too many televisions in their homes do.  I flipped on the TV in the bedroom.  Turner Classic Movies was just beginning “America America” the classic 1963 black and white film by Elia Kazan.  I had heard my parents speak of this movie often.  I had to watch it.  Once I started, I could not stop. 

The movie is based on a 1961 book by Kazan of the same title.  It is loosely based on the immigration of Kazan’s uncle Avraam Elia Kazanjoglu.  The movie begins in 1896 in a non-descript village in Anatolia around Mt. Aergius in Cappadocia.  The town is made up of Greeks, Armenians, and Turks.  Almost immediately there is a massacre of the Armenians in the town.  This is the kind of localized atrocities that led to the Genocide of the Armenians in 1915. 

The lives of the Greeks and Armenians in this village were portrayed to be quite miserable.  They were sheep.  They were always afraid of what the Turks might hear them say or how the Turks might react to their actions.  Most did not want to leave their ancestral homelands.  But, Stavros Topouzoglu, the name given to Kazan’s Uncle’s character, was fixated on getting out and getting to America.  This story is how Stavros struggles first to get to Constantinopolis.  There he works as a hamal, a human mule, loading and unloading ships and eventually makes it to America. 

The depiction of the Turks in Stavros’s village and those he met on the road to Istanbul were very much as the Armenian villagers described them to be in various books and other reports.  It did not look like anyplace or time that I would have wanted to lived in.  I am certain Kazan did not have any intention of being kind to the Turks.  I felt he accurately captured the look of the times. 

April 24:  It is Easter Sunday.  It is also the day the Armenian intelligentsia and leaders were rounded up in Istanbul.  They were never to be seen again.   There is a list on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armenian_notables_deported_from_Constantinople_in_1915 of all those that were rounded up that day.   Not all were killed.  It is worth reading the list to see the names most of which I am not familiar with.  Reading the list definitely took me out of whatever blaise faire I was experiencing earlier this month.  I believe that I will read this list every year.

I woke to read about a roadside bomb that went off outside a Catholic church in Bagdad.  Seven people were injured.  Easter mass was being conducted when the bomb went off.   It seems to me that the outrage is must less than when that Florida preacher burned a copy of the Koran a month or so ago. 

I forget the freedom I take for granted in this country.  I am sitting in the comfort and coziness of my own home typing this letter.  The worst I have to fear is a negative response from a reader.   I think about the protests in Turkey from earlier this week.  I think about the protests in Yemen and Syria.  I think about the protests that have turned into civil war in Libya.  I think of the US military presence in Iraq and the on-going war in in war in Afghanistan.  I think about the taking of this land where I now live in and how it was taken from the indigenous people that were here.  I think of the inhumanity of man to man.

I will listen to Ara Dinkjian performance Adanayi Voghpuh from his album Peace on Earth.  This lovely sad song is for the 1985 Adana massacres but it applies to 1915 and the too many sad parts of the long history of the Armenians.  Ara does a masterful job on this lament.

 I will also listen  to Erkan Ogur and Djivan Gasparyan performing Yemen (Havada Bulut Yok) from Ogur’s album Fuad.   It is a song about Turkish soldiers that went to fight in a war in Yemen for Ottomans.  It is a lament for those that went and did not return:  Giden gelmiyor, acep nedendir?  This lovely sad song has been symbolic in referring to the Armenian Genocide.  It is a lament for those that went and did not return:  Giden gelmiyor, acep nedendir?  Those who have left do not return.  It is too sad.

It is too sad because this song is about the suffering of common people that had to send their sons to die in a war in Yemen.  It is a war they probably could care less about and had no part in the starting of.  They just contributed their sons to go and die for that “greater glory.”  The YouTube shows photos of soldiers from that era.  Yet, the song and that last lines of the chorus applies to the Armenian’s that lived in the same villages.  They too had left and were not coming back. 

There you have it;  my reflections on April 24, 2011.  I really have fulfilled the tag line:  A Letter of Musings and Meanderings.  I have mused and meandered about the grayness of the black and white history reflected through a mirror half a world away and ninety-six after the fact.  Those who were driven off are now all gone. The lifestyle they had is no more.   We need to look forward and act positively for our people… all people.

Video links:

·   Yemen – Erkan Ogur & Djivan Gasparyan http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3oUIx1VtMw

·   Adanayi Vokhpu – Ara Dinkjian

·   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AGyeZgla6c (The video does not match the meaning of the song… close your eyes when you listen)

No Fries With That

I went to the Starbucks closest to my home this morning to get a cuppa on my way to my client’s offices.  I gave my regular order “Grande, drip, room” which is nothing very fancy.  The gentleman behind the counter upon getting my cup of coffee and before taking payment asked “Would you like to buy a bag of our Tribute Blend?”  I simply said, “No fries with that... thanks,” paid, and left.

When I said “No fries with that, thanks” the barista, as the Starbucks employees refer to themselves, gave me a little smirk.  The smirk was not directed as much to me as it was to Starbucks.  It was his way of letting me know that it was not his idea to offer the whole bean bag of Tribute Blend but moreso Starbucks’ and probably his store manager.  Well, OK, maybe the smirk was partly aimed at what he may have taken as a smart-ass reply.

I felt no remorse for my statement for two reasons.  First, my tone was neither sarcastic or remotely angry.  It was matter of fact and thus benign.  Plus it was 6:15 am I did add the “thanks” at the end to be polite.  Secondly, I may be getting a little curmudgeonly again, but I am tired of being asked “Is there any way we can get you to buy more stuff than you came in here for?”  I am the customer who willingly walked into their store with every intent of spending a few dollars.  I really just want what I want and do not care to be asked to spend more.  Besides there are numerous impulse items arranged around the cash register silently asking customers to buy more.

I understand that it is a business and they would rather I spend $20 than the $2.12 I actually spent.  I just think they should be happy with the $2.12 rather than the $0 if I should decide never to walk into another one of their stores again ever.  Most of the time, I really truly, “do not want fries with that.”

I believe this all began with the burger fast food  chains.  I am not sure when exactly it began but I am guessing in the 1980s or 1990s.  Every time you order something the server would ask “Do you want fries with that” or “would you like to super-size that?”  It was company policy.  Now, it seems to be the policy at every company.

“No fries with that, thanks.”  This is my policy and stock answer whenever being offered something more than I ordered.  I like the old fashioned, and to me more acceptable, “Is there anythings we can do for you today?”  It is open ended enough and somehow gives me a choice and reply with a simple “no thank you.”

“No fries with that, thanks.”  This will be my stock answer whenever I am offered something more than I came in for except for when I kinda like and kinda want what they are offering.

Oh the challenges we face being consumers...

Michigan Hockey

1948 Michigan Hockey Team
Winners of the 1st NCAA Championship Tournement

I am watching the NCAA Championship Hockey Game as I type this like a wannabe sports reporter.  Since 1999, the college championship series has been dubbed the Frozen Four.  I suppose to give it the same marketing buzz as the basketball championships.  This 63rd college Hockey Championship finds the University of Michigan Wolverines against the University of Minnesota - Duluth Bulldogs.  Michigan is going for their 10th championship whereas Duluth is going for their 1st.

For being such a Michigan fan, I was not aware, until today, that Michigan has the most college Division I hockey championships with nine.  They are followed by both North Dakota and Denver with seven each.    Michigan has won the first championship in 1948.  They won again in 1951, 1952, 1953, 1955, 1956, and 1964.  The Wolverines then took a thirty-two year break until their next championship in 1996 and 1998.  Since 1998, Michigan has been tied for third in the Frozen Four in 2001, 2002, 2003, and 2008.  They have been in championship series a record seventeen times.

Clearly, just from reading this blog, I am a Michigan Football fan.  After football, I am a basketball fan having enjoyed the national championship in 1989 and the back to back appearances in the national championship when the Fab Five were Wolverines.  Beyond football and basketball, I have followed swimming, lacrosse, baseball, and softball.  This year I even watched the men’s soccer team on TV as they were in the championship series.  I became interested in Men’s Crew when my son, Aram, rowed for them in 1999 – 2001.

Vic Heyliger was the coach in the glory days of the the 1940s and 1950s.  His record was 228-61-13 in his twelve years at the helm.  Coach Heyliger (1912-2006) hailed from Concord, MA, was an All American hockey player at Michigan, and played center for the Chicago Black Hawks.  Again, until today I was totally unaware of this man and his contribution to Michigan Athletics.

The resurgence in Michigan hockey is due to their current coach Gordon Arthur “Red” Berenson.   Berenson took over the coaching duties in 1984 and has been there ever since:  twenty-seven years. 

Coach Berenson was born in Regina, Saskatchewan on December 8, 1939.  At the recent, Big Chill, the outdoor hockey game in December against Michigan State in Michigan Stadium, Coach Berenson related how he grew up playing on outdoor rinks.  Berenson, like Heyliger, played for the Wolverines while at the business school.  He was also an All American having scored 43 goals in his senior year.  Berenson went on to play for the Montreal Canadiens, New York Rangers, St. Louis Blues, and the Detroit Red Wings.  He was on Stanley Cup winning teams both in Montreal and St. Louis. 

Today’s game is what they used to call a humdinger.  This is not a typical Michigan team.  They do not have one twenty goal scorer.  They are a more defensive team than most of Berenson’s and this is not to disparage the defense of any of Berenson’s other teams.  Duluth is a tough, fast, and aggressive team.  They have a rich hockey tradition and have been in the Frozen Four three times. 

Michigan led after the first period 1-0.  They could have led 2-0.  Michigan scored right off of a face-off in the Duluth end.  It was quick and electric.  They could have led 2-0 as an earlier goal was ruled not a goal because the whistle was blown just before the puck was jammed in.  Duluth also had a near goal caroming one off the crossbar with the loudest clang I have ever heard on a TV hockey game.   In the second period, Duluth came out on fire and really took the action into the Michigan end.  They scored one goal off of a face-off kind of paying Michigan back.  Their second goal was scored on a power play.  It looked like Duluth was about to run away with the game when Michigan scored toward the end of the period to tie it up at 2-2.

The third period was incredibly exciting, well played, and scoreless.  Both teams had great scoring opportunities, great defense, and great goal tending.  Duluth’s power play has been on fire in the post season.  Michigan gave them nine power play opportunities which seemed insane but only yielded on goal.  As I said, defense is the strength of this team.  The announcers were astonished that Duluth only scored once off of a power play.  

Shawn Hunwick, the Michigan goalie, has been on fire in the Frozen Four.  He made forty saves against North Dakota, the then top ranked team in the country.  Michigan led most of the game 1-0 and only took a 2-0 lead when North Dakota pulled their goalie at the end of the game.   He made some good saves against Duluth as well.

As the game headed into overtime, the announcers noted the Hunwick could well be the difference in the game.  That was not to be.  Duluth poured on a furious attack that gave the appearance that they had a man advantage even though they did not.  I even told my wife “they are going to score” about ten seconds before they did.  I was not much of a seer.  It was that obvious.  To me it just seemed Duluth wanted it more in the overtime.  It seemed like they had more gas in their engines.  There are probably a few other clichés I could invoke here.

Bottom line, it was a great game.  I enjoyed watching it.  I was a little sad that Michigan lost but not nearly as devastated as in a football loss.  Good game.  Congratulations to Michigan on a wonderful season.  Congratulations to the University of Minnesota – Duluth on winning their first national championship.

I have watched more Michigan this year than ever before.  I have watched them play Michigan State, Notre Dame, Ohio State, and Miami of Ohio on television.  I actually went to my first Michigan hockey game ever.  Jack Hachigian and I went to the Big Chill on December 11, 2010.  It was a great day.  I drove in the night before and stayed at my parent’s house.  I picked up Jack the next day and we headed to Ann Arbor with both Michigan and Michigan State flags aflutter in the cold December air.  It was great being among the largest crowd to watch a hockey game… ever.

I seems I have become a college hockey fan.

Sweet Voice

Music has been an important part of my life.  That has been an on-going theme of these letters and on my blog.  Allow me to indulge in this topic again.

Some History:  I want to reflect on something that happened in the news this month.  Let’s kind of start at the beginning.  This history began while I was playing with my first band, The Johnites, in Detroit.  We formed the band in 1969 and included five friends:  John Tosoian - Clarinet, Tom Zakarian - Guitar, Vaughn Masropian - Dumbeg, Mike Mossoian - Dumbeg, and myself - oud.  We were close and got much closer being in the same band.  We all stood up in each others weddings.  Mike left the band when he moved to California for a few years. I played with them from the inception of the band until I moved to New York in 1990.  It was very hard to leave the band.  I missed the music and the camaraderie.  Almost immediately I got to play with and be friends with other musicians.  The same thing happened when I move to Chicago.  Often, the fondest memories are the oldest.

We loved to play and we loved to share the music that we loved.  We listened and learned.  We discussed how others played and interpreted songs and we copied the masters to the best of our abilities.  The masters we listened to we predominately other American Armenian musicians that included John Bilezikjian, John Berberian, George Mgrdichian, Arte Barsamian, Ed Arvanigian, Eddie Sharoian, Simon Javisian, Harry Bakalian, Hachig Kazarian, Harry Minasian, Souren Baronian, Richard Hagopian, Jack Chalikian, Bob Tashjian, Chick Ganimian, the Vosbikians and so many others.  We began listening to records but quickly moved into cassettes.  Cassettes made it easy to listen to our music almost anywhere.  Most importantly we were able to easily copy and share live recordings.  We were even able to copy and share scant recordings that were just becoming more available from Turkey.

The recordings from Turkey opened up a new and exciting dimension to our music,for me.  We got to hear different styles from classical (sanat) to folk to pop.  We got to hear superb musicians that were conservatory trained and basically were full time musicians.  We noted that there was no substitute for being able to fully dedicate oneself to music and make a career out of it.  We could only imagine how good we could be if we had had that option.  It was my first personal realization of the concept of the White Genocide or the Djermak Chart, the genocide we in the diaspora fight against every day.

It was at this time, sometime in the mid-1980s, that I first heard what has been my favorite singer ever since.  If I had to pick a year, I would say 1984.  I had a band job with the Johnites.  I cannot even remember where we were playing, it is that long ago.  I am guessing it was a wedding since most of our work back in those days most of our work was at weddings.  I do recall it being one of those lovely summer days in Detroit that turn into perfect summer evenings.   I specifically remember Vaughn invited me to his car during a break to hear a new tape.  I cannot remember how many times we told each other “you gotta hear this new tape!”  He popped the cassette into his car player and I sat there mesmerized listening.  I did not know the of the song I was listening to.  I did not know the name of this singer.  The tape Vaughn had was a third or fourth generation copy with nothing written on it.  I just knew I liked it... I really liked this music and this singer.

Vaughn made me a copy and I listened to it over and over again.  I loved the rich tenor voice of this singer.  I loved the folk like music they played.  I was convinced that if our people were still living in the Armenian highlands, the place now known as Eastern Anatolia, and if I were to have become a musician, I would be playing exactly this music.  I might even have been in this fellows band.  It was that serious and had that much impact.

I was in Boston and was visiting Peter Kyvelos the renowned luthier and oud maker.  There was a video shop near his shop of which I had parked in front.  After spending some time with Peter, I was going back to my car and noticed that the video shop had Armenian and Arabic tapes.  So, I went in and looked around.  I saw a section in this small store where they were selling cassette tapes.  I was a little surprised to see Turkish cassettes which a little bit of a surprise because Armenians from Beirut, as the proprietor of this store clearly was, do not openly listen to Turkish music... at least publicly.  In looking at the display of tapes, I noticed a half dozen tape of a mustached singer named Ibrahim Tatlises.  One of the tapes featured two words in a yellow star-burst:  Leylim Ley.  I recognized these words as the chorus of the song from that tape Vaughn gave me.  Leylim Ley was that first song I had listened to.  Ibrahim Tatlises was the name of the singer. I was pretty excited to have found out the name of this singer who I have been listening to and admiring for over a year.  I bought a few more cassettes.  

Ibrahim Tatlises cover photo of his Bulamadim album

One of them was Fosforlu Cevriyem.  It was a live concert and I wore out that cassette before I bought the CD in the 1990s.  I came to learn that the style of music was called Arabesk.  It was called that because of Arab style orchestration featuring a string section.  It was Arab style music done in Turkish.  It most definitely was not high brow music.  It was the music of the poor.  It was the music of poor Kurds.  Tatlises himself is Kurdish.  Whenever I would mention Tatlises as my favorite singers to more educated Turks from Istanbul, it was like they could not believe I even knew who he was.  Then they were astonished that I would like such a “low class” singer.  They just did not get and could never really understand how I could like Ibrahim Tatlises.

When my son Aram was young, we would be in the car and I would very likely have Tatlses playing.  Once Aram asked why I liked and listened to this kind of music.  My simple response was “It is just country music, from a different country.”   Both of my kids liked the Armenian music they were used to at dances, weddings, and picnics.  They tolerated my more esoteric tastes in music.  Armene would just call it “Dad’s music.”

Speaking of country music, that is exactly what Ibrahim Tatlises sang.  His Turkish was heavilly accented.  For example, when singing about raki, the national anise flavored raisin liquor of Turkey, he did not pronounce in the clean modern and urbane way they would in Istanbul where the ‘k’ is made as soft as possible.  He would belt the word out with a more guttural throaty “kh”  Armenians, Arabs, Kurds, and, of course, Turks of humble means from the countryside would use.

One of the Tatlises cassettes I have actually featured photographs of the great singer standing in front of semi-tractor trailer rigs.  It was like he was a Turkish Waylon Jennings.  It hammered home the fact that he is a singer of the common man, truck drivers, and taxi cab drivers in Istanbul.  In fact, there was a front page article in the Wall Street Journal in the early 1990s that suggested that if Sulyeman Demirel or Bülent Ecevit, or whoever was the Prime Minister at the time should listen to the music taxi cab drivers in Istanbul were listening to if really wanted to know what was wrong with the country and what the poor people were going through.  Per the article, they were listening to Tatlises singing the songs of their tough lives.  The incumbent did not heed the advice of the Wall St. Journal and was not re-elected.  With the photos of Tatlises with big rigs and the Wall St. Journal article, I came to fully understand how and why the educated and corporate Turks in the same socio-economic class as me in this country were so mystified by how big a fan of Tatlises I was.

I knew almost nothing about this fellow Ibrahim Tatlises.  While I liked his singing, I did not have the need to know too much more about him.  I learned that his last name Tatlises means Sweet  Voice (maybe Sweet Words tatli soz?).  There was some banter among my Greek musician friends in Connecticut that he was gay.  I have recently learned that his has children, so I pay even less attention to these theories.

When I joined Colgate, one of the first thing I did was teach Quality Management to Division of New Geographies for Colgate.  This included the subsidiaries in Africa, Eastern Europe, and Turkey.  We had the training in South Africa.  It was there I met two sons of Colgate’s joint venture business partners in Turkey:  Bulent and Mehmet Basar.  At a cocktail party, I was talking to them and they soon understood I was Armenian and liked Turkish music.  They asked who my favorite artists were.  First and foremost I mentioned Ibrahim Tatlises. 

 I expected them to have the same reaction that other Turks had with this revelation.  I was delighted when Bulent said, “Ibo is our friend.”  They proceeded to tell me how Colgate Turkey had run a promotion with Tatlises.  They had a concert in which the price of admission was two empty boxes of Fab Detergent.  It was a heavily advertised promotion.  Shortly after returning to New York, Bulent sent me a poster used to advertise the promotion featuring a photo of Tatlises and a few boxes of Fab.  I had the poster framed and it has graced my office ever since.

Later I came learn that most people did not bring two empty boxes of Fab to the concert.  The company had two trucks full of detergent.  People bought  their two boxes on the spot, opened the boxes, spilled out the detergent, and made their way to the gate.  Others told there was a mountain of detergent that had to be cleaned up after the concert.

Some Very Recent History:  On March 13, Ibrahim Tatlises was attacked in a drive by shooting by gunmen wielding automatic weapons as he left the studio where he had just finished filming his popular TV show.   It was amazing that he was not killed.  He was, however, seriously wounded.  It was thought that he might not recover and if he did would be mentally impaired.  I was checking Google news everyday to get the latest reports.

Through all of this I learned that Tatlises is 58 years old.  He is essentially my age.  I thought he was younger because of his youthful sounding voice and energy.  I had once thought that it would have been cool to have met, tried to play with his band, and maybe even become friends.  Upon reading about Tatlises this month and learning more about him, I believe I will simply remain a fan of his singing from afar.  Ibrahim Tatlises is what they used to call in this country one “tough cookie.”  He was a construction worker before become the internationally known singer he is today.  He has had connections and business interests with thugs and organized criminals.  This is not the first time he has been attacked and wounded. 
 

On March 25th, Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan visited Ibrahim Tatlises in the hospital.  I learned that Tatlises may have been attacked because he had agreed to run for deputy representing Şanlıurfa (Urfa) his home town for the AK party which is Erdoğan’s party.  Those arrested were believed to have been part of or funded by the more radical PKK party which has fought both politically and with arms for Kurdish freedom and rights.  At least this is what has been reported in the Turkish press in English.  If I have learned one thing about Turkey... some or none of this might be true.

I am glad Ibrahim Tatlises was not killed, his prognosis is much more positive than when he was first shot, and I hope he fully recovers.

Here are a few of my favorite Tatlises Youtubes of the hundreds available:

1. Here is the original version of Leylim Ley, I somehow believed that I could have played in this group (LOL):  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01OcIduiY8U
2. Here is a more recent version of the same song.  There is no question, I could not play with this band (LMAO):  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybkcYhhFLu0
3. Here is a music video of one of his Bulamadim.  He does kind of look my age in this video except for the amazingly jet black hair.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sAHvQKavE8&feature=fvst
4. This is Tatlises’s most famous song Mavi Mavi:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWSAvfK9WC4&feature=related
5. A slice of Urfa life from the Ibo Show.  Listen to his voice rise above the others:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhfByVcLcMs&feature=related
6. Aşık Mahsuni Şerif's Dom Dom Kurşunu is one of my favorite songs especially when sung by Tatlises:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hc3238mrz6E

Yokay then!

The media, this morning, informed me of two historical events that occurred today:  March 23.   NPR, with or without government funding, let me know that on this day in 1775, Patrick Henry uttered the phrase for which he is best known, “... give me liberty or give me death!”  The phrase was used in speech to the Virgina convention and criticized the tough handed British rule over the American colonies.  The full sentence used in the speech was actually, “I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!"

The other tidbit was in the daily, actually more like every other day, email I get from History.com informing me of the many things that happened in history on the days they actually send me their "daily" e-mail.  The lead item today was not the Patrick Henry quote which the number two item in the e-mail.  The number one item was “1839 : OK enters national vernacular.”

OK, I actually read about OK first over breakfast.  I half thought about writing about it because of an odd similarity between the American youth of 1839 and young people today (I will explain more below... OK?).  But, as stated, it was a half thought.  On the drive in, I heard the Patrick Henry tidbit on the radio and somehow that tipped the scale towards writing and posting about history.  OK?

The remaining question was whether to write more about Patrick Henry and his famous quote or to write about the more pedestrian OK?  I am feeling quite pedestrian, if not outright plebeian, today.  There was really no question.  I am writing mostly about OK.  You can read the full article on History.com.  There is no real need for me to copy and paste or even paraphrase the text into my own words.  (http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/ok-enters-national-vernacular)

I do want to expound a bit, however, on the lovely parallels the History.com article claimed about the American youth of then and now (and I just said I would not be cutting or pasting... OK then):

During the late 1830s, it was a favorite practice among younger, educated circles to misspell words intentionally, then abbreviate them and use them as slang when talking to one another. Just as teenagers today have their own slang based on distortions of common words, such as "kewl" for "cool" or "DZ" for "these," the "in crowd" of the 1830s had a whole host of slang terms they abbreviated. Popular abbreviations included "KY" for "No use" ("know yuse"), "KG" for "No go" ("Know go"), and "OW" for all right ("oll wright").

LOL!  OMG!  Those wacky 1839 teenagers did this without the social media driven abbreviation frenzy of today. They had no texting or twitter.  They had no phones let alone cell phones.  The telegraph existed in concept but was not widely used in 1839.  The 1839 teenagers had no instant messaging Facebook e-mail need to abbreviate and create their own slang.  Yet, they did it.  I am now guessing it might be more an adolescent thing than an internet social media driven thing.  Who would have guessed?

I like the KY = know yuse.  I do not imagine the KY Jelly marketing folks will pick-up on this oddity any time soon.  OK.

Why does this fascinate me?  (Not the KY thing... the OK thing...please.)  I was impressed that OK was born out of a misspelling and mispronunciation of a very common phrase resulting in an abbreviation that upon appearance is unrelated to the original phrase.  Lately, I have been doing the same thing with OK.  I have been saying Yokay.

Why?  I don’t know.  It seemed funny to me and there are a  few people that I used it on who looked at me funny and started laughing.  That is about all the encouragement I need.  So, I have kept using it.  Now I have learned that I have actually distorted and misspelled a word, OK, that in fact is itself a distortion and abbreviation of a misspelling of two other words.  How kewl is that?

Yapperently, things like this amuse me.

A Very Thin Slice of Life

I was on my way to work this morning.  It was darker at 6:30 am than it was just a week ago before springing forward this past Sunday.   I turned left onto Waukegan Road heading north toward my client’s offices.   At first glance in my rear view mirror, I recognized that the car behind me was a recent model BMW.   This was evident by the angry headlights.  The headlights look angry because of the angled in eyebrows above the circular headlights.  The eyebrows are LED turn signals and running lights.  They are very distinctive.

At the first light, the beige 500 series BMW pulled up next to me.  I glanced over and noted a bald or shaved head man in his forties or early fifties with rimless glasses.  I noticed that he had the map light on and was reading a book.  Up until then I was only noting my environment which is something any quality engineer does as a matter of course.  At that point, my interest and curiosity was fully engaged.  Was this fellow reading while he was driving?  What was he reading and why was he reading while he was driving?

My first question was answered as soon as the light turned green.  The fellow closed the book, set it on the seat next to him, turned off the map light, and took off.  At the next light, I was next to the fellow again.  Sure enough, as soon as he stopped he flipped on the map light and began reading again.   While I was next to him, I was behind him just a bit where I could see the open book.  My first guess was that he was reading The Bible because the book was relatively thick and it had one of those ribbons sewn into the binding that was used as a bookmark.  It was the bookmark that led me to believe he was reading The Bible.  The light turned green and we zoomed off.

At the next light, we were again next to each other.  The fellow was again reading.  This time, while not able to actually see much, I was looking to see if the pages were in two columns of text.  This would all but verify he was reading The Bible.  This however was not the case.  I was able to see a pattern however.  There was a block of text in the center of the two-thirds of the page.  This block was bordered by a rectangle and there was more text around outside the box.  I now concluded that the man was reading The Talmud which was the text in the middle of the page. The text around the box would have been the commentaries. 

As the traffic lights became less frequent, there was not another opportunity to revise the theory any further.  Instead, I pondered why this fellow was reading in such infrequent and short spurts.  Was the book that interesting?  Was he that dedicated to his faith?  Was he making incredibly effective use of his time?  All of these are possible and yet, there may be something I have not thought of.

Me?  I like to listen to National Public Radio in the morning while driving.  It is my only regular dosage of news.  To my thinking, that is pretty effective use of time.  Even if I were reading the most interesting book I have ever read, I probably would never try to read a book or newspaper while driving even if only at stoplights.

I wonder if anyone else ever noticed this fellow reading at stoplights?

There you have it, my fifteen minute slice of life from this morning.

On Japan's Nuclear Crisis

I have been following the news coming out of Japan. It is sad enough that the Tsunami hit and killed at least 10,000 and left scores more homeless. It was eerie to read about the 1,000 bodies that washed up on shore. It is a very tough situation that is made even worse by the fact the area, in Northeast Japan, hit by the Tsunami and earthquake is home to a few nuclear power plants.

It sounds scary. The reports are ominous. I heard a report on NPR this evening that very unsettling. There is a fire at one of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant reactors. Officials are afraid that they will not be able to convince any workers to fight to avert disaster. There are real fears that the instrumentation in the reactors used to monitor and control the reactor are either malfunctioning or not functioning at all. The New York Times has reported that:

A small crew of technicians, braving radiation and fire, became the only people remaining at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station on Tuesday — and perhaps Japan’s last chance of preventing a broader nuclear catastrophe. http://nyti.ms/gF9IH2

Fifty people are left to fight and shut down an exposed core. There is a very real fear of a meltdown which could jeopardize many people in this densely populated country. People are trying to get as far away from the reactors as possible. These brave souls who volunteered or were assigned to this detail may well die in their efforts to save others.

This is eerily reminiscent of Chernobyl. At this point, Chernobyl was much worse than Daichi. The Chernobyl reactor exploded and spew huge plumes of radioactive steam, smoke, and ash into the atmosphere risking millions. The similarity was a few hearty souls, heros, went in a poured cement around the core to seal it and prevent an even worse disaster. 28 died from radiation exposure and the remainder have been afflicted with severe radiation related health afflictions. It is a very grim situation for the workers that have stayed on.

The other thing that strikes me is that Japan has already had more than it’s fair share of nuclear devastation. It was the only place in the world where atom bombs have been used in warfare. In 1945, the United States dropped bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in order to force Japan to surrender. It worked but at a great human price. (Please see my posting written on the 60th anniversary of those bombings: http://thissideoffifty.blogspot.com/2009/01/august-2005-atom-bombing-of-hiroshima.html)

Now, 66 years later, this poor country is struggling with another potential nuclear devastation, this one of their own creation. I was a little surprised earlier this week when I learned that the Japanese had nuclear power plants. I had assumed that, given the events of 1945, they would have chosen another path. I am now thinking that their energy needs were so great their natural resources were so scant that nuclear power was the only path. I also imagine that they reasoned that their industrial might and dedication to quality management would be more than sufficient to guarantee safe operation of such facilities

Europe's energy commissioner Guenther Oettinger went further and dubbed the nuclear disaster an "apocalypse", saying Tokyo had almost lost control of events at the Fukushima plant. "There is talk of an apocalypse and I think the word is particularly well chosen," he said in remarks to the European Parliament. http://t.co/Sri1nJf

Would I have been a Black Eagle?

In the March 7, 2011 issue of The New Yorker, there was a Letter from Turkey entitled “The View from the Stands:  Life among Istanbul’s soccer fanatics.”  I read it with great fascination both because it gave a glimpse into soccer fanaticism and also because it was about Istanbul.  The article was written by Elif Batuman who the contributor page told me is “a writer in residence at Koç University, in Istanbul, and the author of ‘The Possessed: Adventures with Russian Books and the People Who Read Them.”  

Ms. Batuman acknowledged the three premier and most popular teams in Turkish futbol as Galatasary, Fenerbahçe, and Beşiktaş.  She pretty quickly focused on the Beşiktaş team and their fan club called Çarşi.  The colors of the Black Eagles of Beşiktaş Jimnastik Kulubünü are black and white.  The are probably the most proletariat of the three major teams.  While I lived in New York, I thought that Galatasary was the only Turkish soccer team.  While I totally acknowledge my naivete, it does speak a bit to the socio-economic class of the Turks that I knew while I was in New York.

The Çarşis seem like a most interesting group.  I liked the picture Batuman painted of them.  I liked their irreverent attitude and the support they give to any underdogs as they perceive themselves as such.  The express their affiliation with the down trodden and disenfranchised with banners and slogans:
 

“We Are All Black.”  proclaimed one banner, after rival fans had made reference to the race of the French-Senegalese Beşiktaş star Pascal Nouma.  When Fenerbahçe disparaged a Beşiktaş manager whose father had been a janitor, there were banners saying “We Are All Janitors.”  And when an internal committee of astronomers removed Pluto from the list of planets Çarşi took up the cause:  “We Are All Pluto.”

As a so named Gavoor, how can I not appreciate this irreverent and fun attitude?  It made me wonder about when Hrant Dink was murdered and thousands of Turks took to the streets with banners stating “We Are All Hrant Dink” and “We Are All Armenian.”  Did the Çarşis influence this or did that event influence the Çarşis?  I am guessing the latter. 

Either way, “We Are All Pluto” is pretty funny... assuming this was not some backhanded swat at the murder of Hrant Dink.   

It is not all peaches and cream, however.  Soccer fanaticism and hooliganism comes with more than a fair share of idiotic and partisan violence and Çarşi is not above this.

One of the heads of Çarşi is an Armenian named Alen.

A headline in a political magazine once called the Beşiktaş stands “the only place where the Armenian problem has been solved.”  Popular cheers have included “Alen for Pope” and, on Easter, “Bless us, Alen.”

I suppose the fanaticism for a team can overcome national politics.

Either way, I am not a huge soccer fan apart from the World Cup.  I never even considered being a fan of a Turkish soccer team, but after reading this piece:  Go Beşiktaş!