Like at least one other of my associates here at SMM, lessons is what I do. Day in, day out for forty-two years now. But for some reason, this has meant that I have struggled to come up with something to share on this page at this time.
Like most school folk, as trite as it may seem, I am committed to life-long learning. I take this for granted. Until, that is, I run across research that shows that one in four Americans didn't read a single book last year. The good news is that apparently there has been a slight uptick with the arrival of audiobooks.
The tradition location for a lesson - the classroom - has become a memory. I've been teaching out of a closet at home since March and it continues this fall. As a teacher, it cuts both ways: I've gone a month into the new year without having once met my students IRL. Tough to really know who's learning the lesssons. On the other hand, my double computer Zoom setup and the handy French press offer some mitigation. I record each class and post the video along with a copy of the presentation materials.
The first lesson of the day starts at 7:50. I suppose I could just about roll out of bed 5 feet away and power up the Zoom meeting in 5 minutes. But I need a bit more and figure the kids do, too. So ... this year, I've taken to starting the Zoom 5 minutes before "the bell" and cranking out some music as we wait for all 20 to arrive and pass through the waiting room door.
My selection of music for this use has multiple purposes: learn the kids something they might not have been exposed to in their home culture (we're not in America), as well as set some kind of a tone. At 7:50AM, that's likely to be something to help them get awake, like this:
At 2:20PM. when the students have been through 2 80-minute lessons followed by 3 40-minute lessons and are headed for one last 80 minute session until 3:40, my choice could be another bluegrass bounce, or it could be something along these lines:
Video doesn't stream particularly well through Zoom, so I've been converting YouTubes to mp3s and pumping those out. I've noticed that it is taking considerably more time to manage lessons in the zoom world both in preparations before and in follow up after. The time for downloading, converting and cueing the song seems to be worth it since feedback from my audience has been positive and has led to learning and discussion beyond the course content: a well-rounded lesson for all, myself included.
From the beginning, what made Steve Martin great was the way he turned expectations on its head. Martin first burst into public consciousness at a time when comedians were moving away from the buttoned-up look to a more 60s counterculture appearance. Yet, he was known for performing in white suits, virtually the dictionary definition of “uncool.” His routines were based on unexpected juxtapositions, and ironic goofiness, like putting a fake arrow through his head. Or interrupting his set with some banjo playing. He is a true comic genius, and isn’t bad as an actor, playwright, musician, author, and art collector.
For some reason, despite the huge number of possible songs that I could have written about, this routine from the 1986 holiday episode of Saturday Night Live immediately jumped into my head. It is a classic example of Martin’s way of twisting expectations. It starts off with Martin, in a stereotypical “sincere television” Christmas setting, with soft music playing behind him, stating that if he had one holiday wish, “it would be for all the children of the world to join hands and sing together in the spirit of harmony and peace.” A beautiful sentiment, but not particularly funny, and we know that SNL at least tries to be funny.
Of course, Martin actually has other wishes, and by the end, “the crap about the kids” gets shunted behind what people would really want for the holiday, even if they wouldn’t ever admit it, and certainly not as part of a sappy ‘holiday wish” TV segment, including a month-long orgasm, unlimited power over every living being in the universe, $30 million a month, and that his enemies “should die like pigs in Hell!”
Then, of course, the children joining hands and singing.
I can’t pinpoint when I became an atheist. Actually, to be more accurate, I can’t pinpoint a time in my life that I specifically believed in the existence of a god, or when I specifically identified as an atheist. I was raised in the Reform Jewish tradition, went to Hebrew School, was bar mitzvahed, and went to temple, grudgingly, on the High Holidays. But I don’t recall ever really thinking about whether or not I believed that there was some sort of all powerful being out there. And at a certain point, I decided that I didn’t. My wife, luckily, is pretty much of the same mind. So, although she was raised in a Protestant tradition, I guess in some ways I did marry in the same non-faith. We taught our kids about our family traditions, which included family gatherings for both Jewish and Christian holidays, mostly without any overt religious content, the same way as we taught them about other family traditions—the sports teams we root for, going to college reunions, seeing live music, etc. And we told them honestly that we didn’t believe in god, but that they were certainly allowed to do so if they wanted. They don’t.
I’ve been heartened over the years by studies that show that atheists are overall as moral than religious believers, that atheist children are more generous and kind than religious kids, and that rejection of organized religion is increasing among young Americans. Despite that, I’m disheartened by the hatred that religious people, at least in the US, have for us nonbelievers in their particular superstition, such as the polls that show that many Americans would not consider voting for an atheist for President. Although in a recent Gallup poll 58% of US adults said that they would consider doing so, that number was less than the percentage that would consider voting for a Muslim, and only greater than the percentage of people who would vote for a Socialist (which makes the Bernie Sanders candidacy seem somewhat quixotic). And other, worse junk on the Internet, that I won’t link to. That shouldn’t be too surprising considering the disdain that religious believers have always had for people who believe in different superstitions. We see it in a big way now with the knee-jerk anti-Muslim rhetoric that passes for political discourse, mostly on the right these days, as well as in the legal attempts to impose religious beliefs of one sect on people who don’t believe the same way. These people would be likely the first to complain if they were required to follow the teachings of some other religion.
We still live in a culture that assumes that a person has a religious affiliation and belief. Which is why even though I live in a community that a recent study calculated was 13% Jewish, most people lately have wished me a Merry Christmas. Now, I happen to celebrate Christmas, and have done so for 30 years as part of my wife’s family’s traditions, which I have adopted and adapted, as my family also celebrates a secular Hanukkah. In fact, apparently, 87% of non-theists in the US celebrate some form of Christmas. So when someone wishes me a Merry Christmas, I thus assume that they are Christian, and wish them a Merry Christmas back. Because I’m wishing them a happy celebration of their holiday, not imposing my personal beliefs on them. But when I am the first to proffer holiday greetings, I almost always say “happy holidays” or “have a great holiday,” since I can’t assume that they celebrate any particular seasonal holiday, or none at all. To me, that’s just politeness and consideration, not any sort of war on Christmas. Because as an atheist, I think that people should be allowed to believe whatever they want, even if I think it is a silly belief, as long as it doesn’t impose on my life.
One of the basic premises of this theme is that there is far less good holiday music for non-Christians than for Christmas. And songs that specifically are atheist provide even slimmer pickings, although some would take issue with that assessment. Steve Martin, who became a phenomenon as an unusual standup comedian, but has also become known for his acting, writing, playwriting and more recently, songwriting and banjo playing, addressed this issue directly, with the very funny featured song, “Atheists Don’t Have No Songs,” which he wrote and has performed and recorded with the Steep Canyon Rangers. I’ve given you the video of their performance of the song on Letterman, because watching Martin’s face is worth it.
As Martin sings:
Atheists don’t have no songs. Christians have their hymns and pages, Hava Nagila’s for the Jews, Baptists have the rock of ages, Atheists just sing the blues.
Now that Christmas is over, though, we can all agree that it will soon be time to wish everyone a Happy New Year. Unless, of course, you follow the Jewish calendar. Or the Hindu calendar. Or the Julian calendar. Or the Buddhist calendar. Or....oh forget it. Just be healthy and happy, and treat other people fairly. Because pretty much every religion, culture and ethical group, from the ancient Egyptians to modern humanists, all advocate some version of the “Golden Rule”—that you should treat others as you would like others to treat you. As Hillel supposedly said, “the rest is explanation.”
Star Maker Machine does not accept music submissions from artists or promoters. However, most of the contributors here do accept submissions for our own blogs, listed below. Please visit our blogs, take the time to listen to what we post, and then feel free to contact us if you feel that your music would be a good fit.
