Flashbacks From A Curious Son

“Hey Dad – I’m listening to the Kingston Trio and Trini Lopez and thought of you. I’d be curious to hear more about these times in your life sometime…”

The shift in time was instantaneous. I looked at Drew’s email and the list of artists from the 50’s and 60’s – ones that he apparently had listened to recently. He must have realized that, in another time almost 50 years ago, they would engender thoughts, memories and emotions about my youth. How quickly they came back; how amazing that clusters of neurons coded all this and have kept it stored for so long scattered across this old brain.

Dion DiMucci. Who? Why Dion and the Belmonts, of course. I was thirteen and fully into the throws of a painful adolescence. I would take comfort in the dank basement of our home in Virginia where I played “I Wonder Why” over and over and over. God, I loved it! I could lip sync perfectly with it, imitating the moves I had learned from watching American Bandstand.

But my awaking neurons shout, “Wait! It goes further back…to the very genesis of your love of music: The Chords!”

Huh?

“Sha-Boom!”

Hey nonny ding dong, alang alang alang
Sh-Boom ba-doh, ba-doo ba-doodle-ay
Oh, life could be a dream (sh-boom)
If I could take you up in paradise up above (sh-boom)

Yeah, of course. I was eleven years and was thrilled when it edged out “How Much Is That Doggie In The Window” for number one spot in popular music. I took all my money and bought the record – it was a 78 and I must have played it a million times on an old record player in my parents bedroom (Norfolk, Va., if it matters).

My memory center has come alive, sort of. What else is back there? Yes, I loved the Kingston Trio. They were from Hawaii and became famous when I lived there as a 14-year nuevo-delinquent. They had even gone to my high school (as did Robin Luke – “Susie Darlin’”).

I knew all the Kingston Trio songs. I was fifteen and had a guitar. I used to play these songs at parties. My kids would never believe this but people actually got up and danced once while I was playing! I was shocked.

I played Bo Diddily, too, sort of.

I had two friends, Rick and Jim. We each had a guitar and would find a place to play where we would drink beer (Country Club Malt Liquor) and Thunderbird wine, just playing and having a great time. I wish I could do that again – without the beer and wine.

Peter, Paul and Mary were even better. I played a lot of their songs, too. “If I had a Hammer” was popular when I was a young officer in the Navy. A fellow officer told me I shouldn’t listen to them because they were pacifists. I was embarrassed at the time; now I am outraged. I would give anything to have been a hippie in the ‘60’s. Instead, I had been brainwashed and sent to Viet Nam. When I came back, my father hugged me for the first time. “Make way for this boy”, he said, “he’s been to war!” Like it was some badge of honor of something. It was perverted.

The first time I heard Trini Lopez, I was in a gigantic stereo store in Hong Kong looking for stuff to bring home. I found the two 60 lb. teak speakers there that I have been lugging around since, until 2007 when they were summarily pushed into the dumpster in Tucson. Lopez was being played in the store speakers – I think it was “If I Had A Hammer” I was blown away.

“Never My Love” by the Association was a great love song if you’re in to that stuff which I wasn’t in 1966. But you can’t touch “Along Came Mary.” I don’t remember the lyrics but the rhythm was kick ass.

I was never much into Rick Nelson. My sister adored him – had pictures of him everywhere. I told her he was gay – I don’t think she ever forgave me. He wasn’t, not that it mattered.

Whenever I hear Wha Watusi I think of beaches and beer. That’s all I can remember.

“Do The Bird” escapes me but “Surfer Bird” by the Trashmen remains on my top ten all time favorites – as does 96 Tears, Gloria, The Mountain Is High, Sea of Love, and so on. I’m not proud of this.

I thought the Kingsmen were more famous for “Louie, Louie”. I was imprisoned in the Naval Academy at the time trying to figure out the lyrics. They were banned in Seattle someone said. I regretted not going to a party school back then but probably would not be here to remember if I had.

I thought “Because” by the Dave Clark Five was way too sentimental. “Glad All Over” was what is was all about for me – more of that rhythm thing.

So I guess you could learn a lot about someone if you knew what memories were triggered by old songs. Funny how they have a way of taking you right back to that very day in some cases. Yet, as we hear them over and over for 50 years they lose their magic somehow. The senses and feelings of excitement are dulled…but maybe they’re not meant to be recycled any more than the memories they elicit. The 60’s were a tough time. I was young and impressionable, looking to find an identity that escaped me for another thirty-some years. It’s not that I don’t want to remember…just not dwell on those times as anything more than learning experiences. Great music, great times – and some not so great – memories all the same. If I could filter out the pain, maybe I would…but I’d have to give up the good with it. I wouldn’t want to do that.

Rock on.

We Are The Butterfly

The old Chinese proverb states that a butterfly’s gently flapping wings in China has the power to dramatically affect weather on the other side of the world.

How can that be, I wondered cynically. Clearly, the Chinese weren’t privy to classical modern physics. What were they thinking? My reality and what I considered true couldn’t open any more…the belief system was closed.

Then I was reminded by an inner voice.

We accept approximation for that is the only way we can define and predict. We round off because it’s “close enough”. Therefore, we dance from one island of “certainty” to another without considerations of what lies between.

But it’s all in between. The islands of certainty we cling to are, in fact, infinitesimal points. Don’t shut out the possibility to explore in between. Here is where you will find the truth.

Okay, I said. Let’s try to get to the “truth”.

Part of the truth appears to me in the strange world of chaos and fractals.

Lately, I’ve taken an interest in Chaos Theory. I don’t understand all its nuances – only enough really to appreciate the mystery that surrounds us…that which is inexplicable. Chaos Theory hints at this mystery as it reveals order out of turbulence, self-organization through some universal guidance that lies beyond my ability to comprehend. Even a brief and limited exposure reinforces the feeling that there is so much more than the “certainty” of what we know.

Chaos Theory speaks of formulas and equations that fold back into themselves, like a baker kneading dough…equations that repeat or iterate endlessly. The result of the previous equation becomes the input for the next and so on. They feed into themselves, always linked, both as individual pieces and, simultaneously, connected with the whole. As computers graphically plot these iterations, the fascinatingly beautiful world of fractals originates. Here we can see the mysterious order from chaos.

Mathematicians, using modern computers, are able to do some pretty interesting stuff playing with all these fancy iterating equations. They work with numbers and decimals going out 16 places and more. You would think that we’re talking really accurate and sophisticated science here.

But something doesn’t make sense. And here’s where the mystery deepens and creeps further in to my unbelieving mind. It’s the butterfly effect.

If these mathematicians round off their initial input to, say, 15 places instead of 16, strange things happen. After only a relatively few repetitions with this rounded input, the results of each succeeding equations begin to shift and wander dramatically. Soon the results no longer resemble what was obtained with a 16-place round off. A whole new picture emerges; the whole changes dramatically by the smallest of inputs.

And here is that mystery, what seems to contradict what the logical mind assumes to be “true”. As the input is folded back into itself, back into the whole that defines it, there is an illogical, unpredictable outcome – chaotic, if you will.

But the chaos isn’t really chaos…there’s a pattern. Like the computer-generated fractals, an order emerges from turbulence. To me, that’s a mystery.

Can life be likened to those esoteric equations, iterating in the world of mathematics? Does life fold back into itself, recreating and reemerging in a turbulent, chaotic manner? Or is there a divine order, deep and mysterious, beyond our ability to grasp and understand…is it both? Can infinitely small results be fed back into life with surprising results? Can the smallest contribution, a kind smile for example, produce a sense of joy on the other side of the world?

What if it could?



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The Chaotic Model Of Life

“…when you reach an advanced age and look back over your lifetime, it can seem to have had a consistent order and plan, as though composed by some novelist. Events that when they occurred had seemed accidental and of little moment turn out to have been indispensable factors in the composition of a consistent plat. So who composed that plot?”*

Joseph Campbell


One of the many advantages of growing older is an increased clarity, a new perspective based on a greater understand of the whole. Maybe there was some plan after all, some grand design that was “my life”. Was I too wrapped up in it at the time to see and understand it?

I look back now on the course of my life with wisdom and maturity, achieved through many years of struggle. There is objectivity…and clarity. There is order – like some plot that only makes sense in the third and final act. Events have unfolded like a bizarre play with central players, stars, bit parts, sets, costumes, etc., each shaping and forming the unraveling story. What once appeared chaotic to me (and others) now appears intelligently pieced together in just the right way to achieve my life goal. What was that goal; who wrote the story?

Life is Chaos. It expands into turbulence, self-organizes through multiple feedback loops and reforms with greater awareness and understanding. It is nonlinear in nature; the results of one experience are fed back into the equation and, with each iteration, a newer version is created, the same but different; subtly shaded and infinitely deep.

Life, like the turbulence of Chaos, is not random. There is a design within these turbulent events – an order that guides and instructs. It forms the path we travel. Events and characters come and go creating opportunities for growth… or a cause for judgment. Challenge creates opportunity; uncertainty spawns creativity.

The chaotic model of life. Comprised of so many subsystems and feedback loops, constantly revising the plot, but always within the framework of the original story. Occasionally, there will be a bifurcation…an explosive, dramatic event creating a reality shift and a new wrinkle in the plot. The story remains the same; just more chapters.

How did it all happen? Each event and character, each scene a personal relationship with which I reacted based on my system of perception – those filters which are ingrained in my early subconscious and become the code by which I act. These relationships then create new “realities” (my truths so to speak). The plot subtly shifts.

I am pleased with my story now and pleased at where I am. Sure, there are parts I’d like to rewrite and avoid a lot of heartache but, then again, would the end result be the same? I’m reminded of the beautiful lyrics by Garth Brooks in The Dance: “I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance.”

I try to accept each event and character in my past as an important instrument in my growth…regardless of how painful or unattractive they might have been at the time. They were necessary teachers and kept me on the path. Now I see what I’ve become and I can look back at each only with gratitude and acceptance.

Wynne Stevens
August 7, 2008
wstevens@sdg-online.com
www.sdg-online.com

*From The Turbulent Mirror by John Briggs and F. David Peat