Thursday, September 17, 2009

Forever Blowin' in the Wind

I remember having a conversation with Mary Travers on the radio some years back. She was delightful, full of spunk, humor and a truly generous spirit. And she was unpretentious, still slightly awestruck by her own life, I think. She lost her valiant fight against leukemia last Wednesday at 72. And the world is already a lesser place.

Without spouting from a shrill soap box, Mary talked about the importance of speaking out and speaking up, especially for those whose voices could not, would not be heard in a society that still harbored many obstacles for a lot of people.

Mary Travers was born in Kentucky, but she grew up in Greenwich Village. Always a progressive enclave, a haven for bohemians and artists, Mary's backyard would become the Mecca for beatniks and folkies in the late '50's and early '60's. Her family lived in the same building as Pete Seeger; she even sang back-up for the legend for a bit, and did a stint in an off-Broadway show featuring comedian Mort Sahl. But the daughter of journalists, Mary never thought she'd make a career out of singing. It was just a hobby, Some hobby. After Al Grossman ( who also managed Bob Dylan) picked her as "the girl",-- for her sex appeal as much as her voice-- to round out a trio that would also feature Peter Yarrow and Noel Paul Stookey, a star career path was blazed faster than anyone could have predicted. She became the tall, sultry blonde flanked by two goateed guitar playing beatniks.

"It's funny," she said, "one minute were rehearsing 'Mary had a Little Lamb' in Noel's apartment and the next minute we have a hit record."

Peter, Paul & Mary's debut album, If I Had a Hammer, released in 1962, spawned two hits: the iconic title track, penned by Seeger, which quickly became an anti-war anthem and "Lemon Tree." It also garnered the trio the first two of their five Grammy Awards. Their popularity, which peaked in 1963 when they had three albums in Billboard's top 10 at the same time, would be unmatched by any folk group in history.

Singing Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind" at the famed 1963 March on Washington remained a highlight. "It was so thrilling. It's hard to explain the feeling, but we knew we were in the middle of something important," she said. Peter, Paul & Mary's recording of the song which sold over 300,000 copies in under two weeks also gave Dylan his first mainstream national attention.

Their '65 hit "Puff the Magic Dragon" sparked controversy when some critics suggested the song was really about the magical allure of marijuana and not about little Jackie Paper outgrowing his childhood figments. People said similar things about the Beatles' "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," claiming it was about a vivid LSD trip, even though John Lennon insisted it had been inspired by his son Julian's drawing.

It was "Puff" and other family friendly tunes like "The Marvelous Toy" that would launch the group into the children's arena. Their album Peter, Paul & Mommy won a best children's album Grammy in 1969.

In 1971, the trio disbanded for the first time, with each member pursuing solo projects,. Mary Travers went on to release five solo albums, and she became a popular speaker and often wrote op-ed articles for newspapers and magazines.

In the '80's and '90's the trio would reunite several times, recording and performing with a renewed sense of social activism. The trio that had become strong voices for civil rights and against the war in Vietnam, took up anti-Apartheid, anti-nukes, gay rights, hunger etc.

I remember slipping in " Weave me the Sunshine" and even the politically charged "El Salvador" when I was music director at a pretty conservative little station in Connecticut. Somehow people didn't mind. Even those who didn't agree with their politics liked Peter, Paul & Mary. They may have been (aging) beatniks, but their authenticity, their endurance,the sheer joy that emanated from their performances, transcended politics and generations.

"Our creativity, our ability to emerge over the years was completely because of the music itself," Yarrow wrote in a tribute letter on the group's website. "There will always be a place in my heart where Mary Travers will always exist."

Paul Stookey, who wrote he was heartsick at her passing, recalled Mary as generous, witty and politically savvy. "She was the master/mistress of the cutting exit line. Once I was attempting to defend Ronald Reagan's educational policy and she interrupted me with 'Oh, for heaven's sake, do your homework.' Need I say, she was right?"

Tireless to the end, Mary Travers cared about so many causes, so many people. It may sound corny, I guess, but the world was her community. "If people recognize me, how can I not recognize them and their needs?" she said. That's why those family concerts the group had become famous for in their later years were so important to her. She was entertaining generations of fans, that's true. But beyond that,I think, she was enlisting them for a higher calling.

If I've learned anything, " she told me, "it's that it will take more than one generation to bring about change."

Mary Travers' voice, now forever blowin' in the wind, leaves behind so many songs and so much humanity,

R.I.P. Mary, you're already missed. You're still here.

Drive safe. Play nice. Think peace.


Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Fright Wing Comic King

Watch out Stephen Colbert; Glenn Beck is gunning for your gig. I know a lot of people take the crazy-like-a-toxic Fox News firebrand seriously. And I'm not suggesting he's not a force to be reckoned with; I'm just saying the guy's a comic genius.

Exuding a passion that lies somewhere between a latter day Jimmy Swaggert and Lonesome Rhodes, the proselytizing media star immortalized by Andy Griffith in Elia Kazan's 1957 classic film, A Face in the Crowd , Beck is one of the most compelling characters to ever captivate a television audience. Of course, he started on radio, first as a DJ in Connecticut and later as a syndicated talk host, one of Rush's brand of fright wing rabblerousers that have seized a wide swath of radio real estate in recent years. But television is the medium that truly captures Beck's unique talents: his tears, sobs, mock classroom struts, the kitsch visual aids including tote boards and an old fashioned blackboard at the ready for conspiracy theories and misspellings. And there are those facial contortions that can take his doughy puss from sincere to crazed in seconds flat.

So what if he shed sponsors like a house filled with Persian cats after his misconstrued comment, " I think President Obama is a racist. He has a deep hatred of white people?" People who fear him, people who worship him were either enraged or emboldened by that statement. But I know better. Beck is a gifted satirist. His comedy is so sophisticated, even a savvy media maven may be fooled at first. But watch him for several consecutive nights, and you'll become hooked on his nuanced comedy, too.

I'm sure Beck was filled with shock and awe to discover his frantic faux ravings helped oust former Green Jobs Czar Van Jones and demote NEA Communications Director Yoshi Sargeant to a back room giglet. He must have been flabbergasted to find thousands storm the Capitol for his parody 9/12 Project protest rally last Saturday. The fact that he didn't show himself is proof of his comic intentions. I'm sure he was amused to see such a diverse crowd( the thousands he'd later comically count as millions) actually comply with his secret double probation instructions to show up with misspelled jibes and threats splattered across placards.

Not since Soupy Sales told kids to swipe money out of their parents' wallets and send it to him back in the '60's has a media personality so affected his audience. Okay, Jerry Falwell outed, then nearly blacklisted Tinky Winky, the purple, purse-toting teletubbie back in the '90's, but the less said about that ugly incident, the better.

I have friends who flat out refuse to watch Beck, insisting their heads would spin uncontrollably, and wherever she is, poor Linda Blair would start spewing nostalgic pea soup. And I must admit--especially since I tend to watch the late night re-broadcast--as I drift into slumber my dreams have become very strange. In one I'm dining on a lunch of Chicken Kiev and Smirnoff vodka shots with Michelle Obama in the middle of Rockefeller Center while Karl Marx and Keith Olbermann wander about affixing hammers and sickles to all the paintings, statues and tourists.

If you're not careful Beck's deadpan paranoia can creep into your waking life, too.I found myself roaming the aisles of Stop & Shop the other day finding symbols of propaganda everywhere I looked. I could have sworn the Trix cereal rabbit was luring kids into a life of prostitution(with kickbacks going to embattled organizers at Acorn); everyone would know Froot Loops was pushing a gay agenda; and who couldn't see Count Chocula was indoctrinating kids into the New Black Panther Party while promoting necrophilia as a legitimate alternative lifestyle?

I became slightly hysterical(a condition very similar to a little bit pregnant) when I discovered Russian dressing was on sale, a clear sign of a communist plot to clog American arteries as it was brimming with more fat, cholesterol and calories than the healthier, higher priced low-fat Ranch, which symbolizes the freedom of the American west.

Flushed with fever, I fell to my knees before a display of Arm & Hammer Baking Soda. The logo on every box surely signifies a socialist stampede against every kitchen and laundry room in America. Then I broke out into a rash-- a very RED rash--when it dawned on me: these people also make toothpaste. That's right, there is a socialist, communist, fascist conspiracy to capture very American mouth! And all I could do was wait until five o'clock to turn on the TV and hear that great American communicator, that national treasure make sense of It all.

Okay, so maybe I overindulged a bit. Like with most things in life, a little Glenn Beck goes a long way. Moderation, my friend, moderation. But miss the Beck spectacle at your own peril, America. As the maestro of mind control would say, we have to grab the wheel of liberty before the paradigm shifts. And there's nothing left to watch but Rachel Ray and that ShamWow guy.

Insomniacs will long for the good old days when infomercial diet Guru Susan Powter's shrill plea to " stop the insanity!" pulsated throughout the land.

Drive safe. Play, nice. Think peace.


Monday, September 14, 2009

Liar, Liar, Mouth on Fire

Bad behavior pays off. Just ask Joe Wilson, whose rude outburst during Obama's Health Care Reform Speech before a joint session of Congress catapulted the South Carolina Republican from back bencher to star buffoon.

Shouting, "You lie!" as the President noted that illegal aliens would not be given insurance under the proposed plan, gave Wilson headlines in papers across the country and sound bites on radio, while making him topic A on cable TV round tables and late night comedy's favorite punchline. He also scored spots on national cable shows and right wing webcasts. Not bad for a guy who before the blurt was so below the media radar, I doubt he was frequently featured on the local news in South Carolina.

Wilson's rash rudeness was so stunning, even GOP leaders called for an immediate apology. And later Wednesday evening he did so, calling the President. On camera, he publicly called his action regrettable and conceded, "emotions got the better of me."

For some, the tepid telephone apology is not enough. House Majority Whip James Clyburn ( also from South Carolina) has demanded an official apology on the floor of the House. Otherwise, Democrats are set to vote on a resolution of disapproval later this week. On Fox News Sunday Wilson categorically stated no such apology is forthcoming. " I have apologized to the President, " he said. " I believe that is sufficient." Obama, on 60 Minutes said he didn't want the Wilson issue to become " a big circus" and detract from the real work of reform.

The jury is still out on the political fallout. Some analysts say his seat is now "in play." But they said that about Michelle Bachmann's seat, too, after the wackadoodle Minnesota rep called for an investigation into the patriotism of all members of Congress. Her opponent did get an influx of cash, and probably more votes than he could have hoped for, but Bachmann's still in office and still spewing nonsense.

In the days since the incident, Wilson's Democratic opponent, Rob Miller has received $875,000. But Wilson's coffers, too, have been bloated to the tune of $700,000. A small poll found that 66 people are more likely to vote for Wilson since the outburtsm 59 less likely, while 20 remain indifferent. At Saturday's 9/12 protest rally in D.C., some folks were spotted waving signs and wearing t-shirts proclaiming, "Joe Wilson is my Hero."

Many liberal commentators and columnists can't circumvent the racist elephant in the middle of the room. On Fridays' Real Time, Bill Maher said, "I don't think he would have done that if a white man were president." He added that while it drives Repubs nuts, "I see subliminal signs of racism."

Former Bush advisor, Richard Clarke, concurred. "There are a lot of people and they're not just the 'Birthers,' there are people who used to be 'Birchers' and members of the KKK who want to delegitimize this president."

New York Times columnist, Maureen Dowd and others have pointed out that Wilson, who once belonged to the Sons of Confederate Veterans, led a 2000 campaign to keep the controversial Confederate flag flying atop South Carolina's statehouse, and he shot down as a " smear" a black woman's true claim that she was the daughter of Strom Thurmond, stating the woman should have kept her identify secret(even after Thurmond's family publicly acknowledged her).

No one knows what's in Joe Wilson's heart. And to suggest everyone who disagrees with Obama's ideology and policies is racist is flat-out wrong and insulting. But the "Birthers" are riddled with racists; the "Deathers," too ( though some of these folks may just be ill-informed and/or unhinged). And the longer the GOP allows the shrill fringe to do their bidding, the less sincere their vows to seek tricky compromise and do the People's business seem.

Lost in all the talk about decorum, racism and political divide are the facts. Wilson was lying about Obama lying. Either that or he was misinformed. In the proposed plan it clearly states: " No one in the United States illegally will be eligible for insurance coverage." What part of that statement is so hard to decipher, Mr. Wilson? I'm not sure what's more egregious, a congressman who deliberately misuses the facts or one who is ignorant of them.

For now, the biggest loser in this latest cultural commotion might be that other guy whose name really isn't Joe. Move over Joe the Plumber. Meet the Fright Wing's new hero: the "gentleman" from South Carolina. Joe the Liar.

Drive safe. Play nice. Think peace.


Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Celebrity Gadfly Justice

"He may come off as gruff or abrupt, but he's got a big heart. And he's really glad to do this." That's what Dominick Dunne's assistant told me as we finalized details for the author's radio interview with me in 2002. I was hosting the afternoon drive talk show on WGCH in Greenwich, CT and he was covering the Skakel murder trial in Stamford for Vanity Fair and Court TV.

The Dunne interview was a big "get" as Skakel was on trial for murdering his Greenwich neighbor Martha Moxley over twenty-five years earlier in 1975 when they were both fifteen.It was big news in town and-- thanks to Dunne and disgraced O.J.Simpson cop, Mark Furhman whose bestseller,Murder in Greenwich helped re-open the case-- big news across the country, too. The fact that Skakel--already in his forties and bloated beyond his years--was a Kennedy cousin(RFK's widow, Ethel is his father's sister)only added celebrity cache to the case.

Dunne, who died at eighty-three, ironically on the same day as Sen. Ted Kennedy, has long been a Kennedy family nemesis. He had covered the William Kennedy Smith rape trial in the early '90's ( Smith was acquitted) and loosely based his novel, A Season in Purgatory on the Moxley murder. I don't know if Ted Kennedy harbored any animosity towards the scribe, but Bobby Kennedy Jr. has had a well-televised feud with Dunne in the years following his cousin's murder conviction.

When we did our interview(he was, btw, nothing but kind and charming), Dunne had a queasy feeling that Mickey Sherman, Skakel's charismatic attorney, might get his guy a walk. "I hate to say it, but he might be creating reasonable doubt," he said, sounding crest-fallen. Dunne needn't have worried. By the time prosecutor Jonathan Benedict finished his closing argument the Guilty verdict was all but assured.

Dunne was a true believer who took all his celebrated cases to heart. He wasn't an impartial journalist, a charge--much to his critics' chagrin--he would cheerfully cop to. After his daughter Dominique, a promising twenty-two year old actress was strangled by her ex-boyfriend John Sweeney in 1982, Dunne became a sort of celebrity avenging angel, fearlessly taking the victims' part, and often bonding with their families.

Tina Brown, then the new editor of Vanity Fair was sitting next to Dunne at a dinner party the night before he was to fly out to Los Angeles for the murder trial of his daughter's killer. She implored him to take notes. And when he returned she found the magazine's first voice. "Dominick had a voice that was so powerful, that spoke to you right off the page," she says in Dominick Dunne: After the Party a documentary observing the famed observer and just out on DVD.

That first and toughest assignment launched Dunne's new career. He had already had a flamboyant first act as a successful, then failed TV and movie producer with credits including Al Pacino's breakthrough Panic in Needle Park and Mort Crowley's groundbreaking Boys in the Band . And he had already penned the bestselling novel, The Two Mrs. Grenvilles, based on the infamous Woodward case in which showgirl turned socialite Ann Woodward killed her estranged husband and got off claiming she mistook him for a burglar.

He went on to cover a slew of trials for VF including: O.J, Simpson,the Menendez brothers(Leslie Abramson, Erik's high profile lawyer, isn't a Dunne fan, accusing him in After the Party of making up "convenient facts."); Robert Blake and Phil Spector. He did live to see Spector's second trial--his swan song--end in a conviction for the 2003 murder of actress Lana Clarkson.

After the Party, directed by Kirsty de Garis and Timothy Jolley offers a fascinating glimpse into Dunne's extraordinary life. Through grainy black and white home movies and interviews with Dunne, friends and a few foes we get to be that proverbial fly on a famous wall. He doesn't need his son actor Griffin Dunne to remind him,"Dad wasn't easy to live with. He was always a work-in-progress." He readily admits his reckless social climbing cost him his marriage to the one woman he loved long after they had divorced and she passed away. He doesn't need his pal producer Robert Evans to tell him of his final faux pas that ran him out of Hollywood.

Dunne tells, with some relish, the tale of Ash Wednesday. Listed in many movie review guides as a "Bomb," the last film he produced boasted a star cast with Elizabeth Taylor and Henry Fonda; the script, written by the husband of a powerful Hollywood publicist, however, was a mess. Dunne made an infamous comment, " They should have called it 'When a Fat Girl Ealls in Love,'" which appeared in The Hollywood Reporter.Evans, according to Dunne, told him he'd never work " in this town again." In Party, Evans laughs, claiming he might have said it, but he can't remember.

With both his marriage and career in the dumpster, Dunne took what little money he had left and took off into the Oregon woods where he holed up for six months, and at age fifty tried his first hand at fiction, living off canned pork and beans and communing with nature. He moved to New York vowing to become a bestselling author.

And he did it. Along with his Vanity Fair columns and popular Court TV (now TRU TV) show, Dominick Dunne's Power, Privilege & Justice, he wrote eight bestsellers. His ninth book, a novel, Too Much Money--which he had just put the finishing touches on--is set for a December release. His funeral service was held Thursday, September 10, in New York City. His family, fittingly, requested in lieu of flowers donations be made to the National Center for Victims of Crime.

In After the Party, which I believe was filmed a year before he fell ill to the cancer that claimed his life, he is robust and full of the energy of a man half his age. If you check his website,, you'll see he was blogging well into August, tackling everything from news of his new book to musings on Phil Spector's prison gripes and somber reflections on his own illness. His fans, including this one,are grateful to have tagged along for such a remarkable ride.

Rest in peace, Dominick. You earned it.

Drive safe. Play nice. think peace.


Sunday, September 6, 2009

School Daze

Barack Obama's up to his audaciously hopeful tricks again. First he has the unmitigated gaul to seek affordable health care for all Americans. And now--get this--the guy wants to give America's schoolkids a televised pep talk. His plan to urge kids to stay in school, study hard and do their homework has right wing politicians and commentators crying foul, while some parents vow to keep their children home on Tuesday to avoid being subjected to the speech.

Sanctioning hooky playing, obviously, undermines the heart of such a speech. And the hysteria surrounding it is just that--hysterical. A Republican friend(admittedly a moderate)reminded me that the first Pres. Bush gave a similar speech in 1991 encouraging science education. At the time some Democrats decried it as political maneuvering, too, but there wasn't a real brouhaha from parents and the speech went off without much fanfare.

President Obama is under greater scrutiny, it seems, and greater suspicion. Fright wing commentators like Glenn Beck have been warning people for days, " He's out to grab your children." This whole notion that Obama, the Cult Leader-in-Chief, is trying to indoctrinate America's youth, claiming them for his socialist agenda, is outrageous. One of my favorite explanations for the widespread panic came from former Gingrich staffer turned commentator/PR maven Tony Blankley, who said on CNN last Friday night, "Obama has to fight his image as 'The One,' 'The Chosen.'"

This stuff would be laughable if a lot of ignorant, scared people didn't believe it. What are they afraid of exactly? Maybe Obama will use that old movie theater technique of running subliminal messages. Instead of prompting people to buy popcorn and candy, perhaps messages urging kids to " support health care," "cash your social security checks," and "send letters through the U.S. Postal Service." can run while he talks of the practical and intrinsic values of academic rigor.

I have no problem, by the way, with educators and parents reading a transcript or even screening the actual speech before airing it to kids. Much of the controversy stemmed from the teaching materials that were to coincide with the speech. The original curricular aides included an activity in which students would write down ways they could help the President reach his goals for the nation. This is the part that got those looking trough socialist-tinted glasses all clammy and bombastic and had them turning to Fox News for comfort. The modified activity asks kids to write about their academic and personal goals. This does seem safer and more politically correct. However, there is nothing wrong, nothing socialistic about the President asking students to become civic-minded; there is nothing sinister about our top elected official nurturing national pride. Remember President Kennedy's famous quote: " Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country?"

The thing people have to realize is whether you voted for him or not, President Obama is our President.(And--not to rub salt in the right wing's wound--he did get more votes than any other president in history). And as President he has certain ceremonial privileges that transcend party lines and politics. As President he is afforded the opportunity to host foreign dignitaries, throw out the first pitch at the All Star Game, pardon Thanksgiving turkeys and speak to America's schoolchildren on the value of education. Given the ignorant reaction, more presidents should have availed themselves of this opportunity in past years.

I read another blogger's take on the subject. "It's probably okay if he speaks to kids about education. It's probably not dangerous," he wrote. " But I'm still keeping my kids home that day because it smells a little fishy."

If something smells fishy, you might want to check your kid's lunchbox. You'll probably find a soggy half-eaten old tuna sandwich.

Drive safe. Play nice. Think peace.


Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Feast & Famine

Nora Ephron missed the gravy boat. Had she chopped off the Julie half of her new film Julie and Julia, she could have cooked up a truly delicious bio-pic of celebrated chef Julia Child. And probably handed Meryl Streep her third long overdo Oscar. Meryl may still get the nod as she magically transforms into the awkwardly lovable Child, embodying her every mannerism, her voice, her height.

Sharing a place at Julia's table in Paris in the early 1950's is so inviting; watching her eat up the food, the people, the very romantic city itself is simply delectable. Unfortunately, our five star tour takes jarring 2002 detours to Julie Powell's drab little apartment above a pizzeria in Queens. Julie( another journeyman performance by Amy Adams) is a frustrated writer who escapes her dreary and draining bureaucratic job by preparing Julia's classic recipes. Egged on by her adorable and saintly husband she vows to complete 500 plus recipes in a year's time and blog about it. She dives into the project with zeal and a grating ( and not in the yummy Pecorino Romano way) spoonful of kvetching, She complains to her husband, her mother, her far more successful friends. The trouble is: we've seen this sort of thing before. Hey, some of us have even lived it ( well, maybe not the part about the 500 recipes). The book upon which this half of the movie is based--which is supposedly based on a true story--may well be funny and heartfelt. But on the screen it just doesn't make for a very satisfying meal.

Every time Julie drops a duck breast or laments lassoing a live lobster, I yearn to be back in Paris where Julia is dazzling her classmates at the Cordon Bleu,while circumventing the snarky woman who runs the school; making demo dinners for a her sweet hubby( the always winning Stanley Tucci) or meeting the quirky characters who will become her cookbook collaborators.

There are so many exotic flavors, so many juicy details in the Julia Child story. Yet Ephron--hellbent on making a movie about the power of happy matrimony(she does dole out a smattering of sweet and savory love scenes)-- offers only a morsel here, a nibble there. We know Julia's husband, Paul is a diplomat, but his exact position remains elusive. At one point he is summoned to Washington where he's subjected to a grilling from Sen. McCarthy's henchmen and in short order is assigned to one less glamorous outpost after another. There is Julia's contentious relationship with her staunchly Republican father and an amusing visit with her equally off-beat and enthusiastic sister(a nice turn by Jane Lynch). All these intriguing ingredients add up to little more than an amuse bouche. After all, there's simply no time, when we've got to get back to Queens to watch Julie angsting over aspics and blubbering over burnt beuf Borgenion.

I'm sure another filmmaker will be tempted to dish out a five course, five star banquet--one that captures the richly textured layers of Julia Child's fascinating life. And the service might be faster than you think. Remember those two brilliant Truman Capote movies a few years back? Capote--which came out first--garnered most of the attention and accolades including an Oscar for Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Toby Jones' Infamous--lighter and more spot-on was quickly relegated to DVD and is certainly worth adding to your NetFlix list. Sad to say, but Meryl Streep's not likely to clanking around Julia's kitchen again. Maybe Emma Thompson could sink her teeth into the role. Or Joan Cusak.(Don't bother auditioning, Dan Aykroyd; you had your shot on SNL).

In the meantime, if you want to indulge in a foodie movie that will make your mouth water at both the menu and the characters, check out Big Night, the 1996 nugget about two Italian immigrant brothers trying to make a go of the restaurant biz while preparing for a visit from crooner Louis Prima in the 1950's. Come to think of it, this one was co-written and directed (along with Campbell Scott)by Stanley Tucci, who also starred as one of the brothers. I sense a party game: 360 degrees ( for 2 hours and 14 minutes) of Stanley Tucci.

A wafer thin confection, Julie and Julia is still worth the price of admission thanks to Meryl Streep's scrumptious performance. Just don't expect a cinematic feast. What you'll enjoy instead is a tasty snack. One that leaves you hungry for more. And less.

Drive safe. Play nice. Think peace.