Pinandok

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????So I’m at the IGA checkout buying three or four organic items, as you do. The young woman behind the till has a Trainee badge on her shirt. “Plastic bags?”

“It’s OK, I brought my souvenir Fred Smith ‘Dust of Uruzgan’ cotton bag,” says I, with a subtle hint about a splendid house concert coming up on the 29th of March.

“Community benefit number?”

“Umm, it starts with a 2…”

“Savings or credit?”

“Credit,” I say, as it is four more days until the Centrelink payment hits the bank account. I sneak a look at a card inside my wallet where several pins are cleverly disguised as phone numbers. I know, I know, the banks tell you never to do that – in fact, if my account gets hacked, some clever Johnnie at Bobsbank will be on to me, claiming poor card security on my part – and he may have a point.

“Pinandok.”

Pardon? Oh, yes. Surprise – it works.

“Extra cash out?”

“Well, if you’re handing it out, yes.”

She has a literal sense of humour – frowns and thinks to herself, “He’s just like my Dad, always a joke or a pun and he expects you to get it every time.”

So I leave the Supermarket and head to the Post Office, only then remembering I parked behind the IGA. It’s a fairly new car and it looks like every other faux four-wheel drive on the road today. “What’s the Rego number?” I say, searching my memory bank, but the bank’s empty.

And now I have become a “webmaster” which these days can be applied to anyone who bought WordPress for Dummies and just jumped in (as I did).

One of the major drawbacks of being in charge of a website is that you need to know and maintain a half-dozen logins and passwords, all of them combinations of letters, numbers and symbols, with the aim of keeping eastern European hackers from turning your pretty little folk music website into a den for Hot Russian Brides.

At last count I had 63 logins and passwords stashed away in a “secure” corner of my computer and another 130 logins, account numbers and passwords on an electronic diary guarded by a master password. In case I get sudden early onset, I have scribbled that master password down for She Who Knows Where To Look. (Don’t count on it – I have enough trouble remembering where mine are. Ed)

About five years ago when it because apparent that this could be a problem, I made a spreadsheet, pasted it to a word document and copied it on to a CD. Unhappily, I password-protected the word document then forgot the password! Alas, it seems the only password-protected document types which can’t be opened by password-busting programs like Brute Force are simple word document passwords. This I know, because in a fit of Scorpio-like secretiveness I password-protected a 56,000-word novel I was working on and now can’t open it because I forgot the password. I think it was about losing your memory.

Transactions over the internet are becoming more and more common for the majority of us. When was the last time you received a bill in the mail and either mailed a cheque or walked down to the Post Office to pay in cash? A whitegoods repair guy came and did a job on our dishwasher recently, then emailed the invoice to She Who Knows Where To Look, who promptly got on to internet banking and paid the money into his bank account.

The good things about this kind of transaction – they’re quick, easy, and there’s an electronic paper trail if there’s a dispute. The bad thing is that every day we hop on to the Internet, we run the risk of having someone with IT skills and bad intentions gain access to our bank account, investments and phone and computer accounts. Not to mention Centrelink, the Australian Tax Office and Medicare, all of whom are hell bent on having us create an online account and a complex password so we can logon to update the data that (a) they should be updating and keeping secure and (b) should be keeping people in jobs.

If you have become drawn into the online way of doing things, consider having a periodic house-cleaning. The first thing to do is unsubscribe from lists you don’t want to be on. Sometimes this is not as easy as it ought to be. I recently bought a book from an online bookshop which kept sending newsletters and other exciting announcements about “specials” when I clearly do not recall ticking the boxes to say I wanted them.

To unsubscribe from this list I had to log on (with my password), and go through several steps to get off their pesky list. This is a bad way to do business, as is the tactic of pre-selecting choices that you as the consumer should be free to make.

When we flew to north Queensland for Christmas, I hired a car, not noticing that the option to purchase a 7-day travel insurance policy was pre-ticked.

In the interim, She Who Approaches Such Matters with More Caution had already bought a travel insurance policy elsewhere (with a Seniors’ discount). The car hire company did cancel the policy and refund me, but it underlines how careful you need to be online.

There is a protocol when you send out emails to more than 20 or 30 friends, as I do every week. Internet Service Providers (ISPs) require you to advise recipients that if you don’t want to be on the list, just email back “unsubscribe”.

If someone wants to unsubscribe, I just open my Excel spreadsheet and delete the person’s name and email address. I suspect that this does not happen when you decide you don’t want to hear from Cheap and Nasty Hotel Bookings.com.

The electronic database is a scary thing – your local takeaway pizza joint, for example, has your home number, mobile number, home address, probably your email address and, moreover, whether you are susceptible to up-selling (do you want Pepsi-Max and garlic bread with that?).

Our email addresses, home addresses, full names and DOBs are floating around inside dozens of databases, hardly any of which have ASIO-level security in place. Increasingly this data is being exported to the “cloud,” a nebulous place where organised crime is busy working out how to make said cloud rain money.

Web browsers like Internet Explorer and Firefox aim to make things easy when you’re online. You can choose to save your passwords on your computer and the Web browsers slot them in as required. But I was horrified to find just the other day, that you can not only open the place on your PC where these logons and passwords are stored, you can also make them visible! I was less unhappy when I found you can’t select-all and copy or print the list out.

Or so they reckon!

Ah, just what your cash-strapped Grade 10 kid with advanced computer skills and a dope habit was looking for – go to that old writer fella’s PC – he never locks up.

What’s next for the humble CD?

Pix and Bob2My sound engineer Pix Vane Mason (left) depressed the hell out of me last December when he predicted the demise of CDs within the next two years.
“But Pix,” I said. “I just ordered 500 of the buggers!”
Whether you can still sell CDs today comes down to the demographic segment which is most likely to buy your music. A famous singer whose fans are mostly in the 70+ category, sold out of CDs on a recent tour of Queensland. But that may well be the exception to a rapidly changing rule.
The Australian Recording Industry Association (ARIA) says digital music revenues overtook physical sales in Australia for the first time in 2013. Digital music revenues accounted for 54.7% of the market, bringing in over $192 million, while CDs, DVDs, and other physical media made up the remaining 45.3% share. Paradoxically, vinyl is back in favour, with LP sales up 40% to 6 million in 2014, according to Melbourne-based tonedeaf.com.au. Artists favouring vinyl (usually as another sales avenue), include Madonna, Nick Cave, Mark Knopfler, Bjork and ex-Oasis singer Noel Gallagher.

Swimming in the digital stream
Billboard and Nielsen Soundscan say the big music trend has been a 54% rise in on-demand streaming, with 164 billion song streams played by consumers in 2014. Meanwhile, physical music sales in the US continue to decline, with compact disc sales dropping to 62.9 million, from 78.2 million in 2013.
Gen Xs and Gen Ys, with the possible exception of DJs, who have whole suitcases full of CDs, almost exclusively download music direct to their smart phones, Ipods, Ipads and computers. Or they pay to subscribe to music streaming websites like Pandora, Grooveshark and Spotify. Streaming audio gives you access to a vast database of music; you can play it through speakers in your house, but you can’t download it. The download option is great if you are looking for a must-have song you heard on the radio or at a live gig. This typically costs $1.99, although independents can charge what they like. Some digital music sites like ‘band camp’ give customers the option to pay what they think the music is worth.
The big plus for independent musicians is that once their music is uploaded to an Internet ‘shop’, there are no overheads, apart from the fees taken by the website. You may, however, read about how little musicians get paid by the proliferating streaming services. They get massive exposure but earn less.

Remember when CDs cost $30 and imports could cost $35 or $40? It doesn’t seem that long ago (1982), since Billy Joel released 53rd Street on compact disc, coinciding with the launch of Sony’s first CD player. CD prices have dropped sharply in the last couple of years as retailers fight to keep their market share.
In a perverse way, the now old-fashioned compact disc favours independent artists who have dipped into their own funds to create a work of art. It not only sounds good, but has interesting artwork; it comes signed by the artist, you feel warm and fuzzy about supporting someone you might actually know, and it has the one quality digital music lacks – collectability.

Truth be known, true music lovers and audiophiles want the whole cake – their expensive Bose speakers dispersed through the house, they play CDs, stream music via Spotify, play songs from their vast Ipod database and, after they’ve been out for an evening drive in the vintage Torana, the old Van Morrison tape hissing away, they’ll come home, slip on their archivist’s gloves, ease the mint copy of Dark Side of the Moon from its sleeve, gently place it on the Denon turntable and settle back with a nice glass of red (log fire crackling in the corner…but that’s probably laying it on a bit thick).

Bob’s been making a CD, did you know?
So yes, we (The Goodwills) have been producing a new recording since May last year. These are all songs written over the last three years which had been burning a hole in my belly since I first wrote the list on a whiteboard in January 2013.
It began with five months’ pre-production (home demos) so that when we got to the studio, we would know what we were doing. (Ha!). It’s important to have an empathic relationship with your sound engineer. Pix and I started each session with a hug and a coffee and a half-hour discussion about what music we’re listening to and why. Multi-instrumentalist Steve Cook offered to help develop the songs. It is a gamble to let someone else interpret your songs, but it can also take them somewhere unexpected. After a month or two of bedding down instrumental tracks and guide vocals, it was time to bring in other instruments for colour and tone.
There were interruptions, creative differences of opinion, a momentary funding hiccup and of course the momentum was disturbed when we took three months off to tour around Australia.
It looks like this
We remain enthused about the 13 songs that emerged from this process, their possibilities augmented by the talents of Silas Palmer, Steve Cook, Rose Broe, Erin Sulman, Tim Finnegan and Mal Webb.
Once we were happy with the “mix”, the album was uploaded to a mastering engineer David Briggs. If you don’t know what a mastering engineer does, when you hear a song on the radio and the singer’s voice floats above the instruments – that’s mastering.
Then it was time for the artwork – designing a cardboard wallet and a 16-page booklet. Someone (that would be me – ed.) had to type out all the lyrics and the commentary about each song, source appropriate photos, come up with ideas and engage a graphic artist (Steve Cook), to make it all work. Once that was done, the whole package was sent to a replication firm which printed the artwork, made 500 copies and delivered them to our door – on time, but a tad over-budget.

The Last Waterhole cover CD BabyIt looks like this

At this level, making an independent CD can cost considerably more than $5,000. So to break even, it has to be good, and/or you need generous friends and acquaintances. So tomorrow we’ll launch ‘The Last Waterhole’ at the New Farm Bowls Club and again on Sunday at the Old Witta School near Maleny. We’ve convened a four-piece band for the occasion.
The album will also be available for download on CD Baby. There are people we know who live elsewhere on the planet who might just do that, instead of adding $7.40 postage to the cost of the album.

But as for the five boxes of “physical product” under the bed, as Jeff Lang once teased an audience at the Byron Bay Blues Festival:
“Do any of you want a CD? I’ve got thousands of them and I don’t f’ n want ‘em.”

Footnote: Our new wordpress website should “go live” on Sunday night. www.thegoodwills.com

Ground control to Major Tom

Linsey Pollak plays a carrot clarinet

Today we’re taking a look at YouTube, 10 years old this month, a place where people can get noticed for making a clarinet out of a carrot (left) or singing a David Bowie song while floating in a spaceship. If you are not one of the 24.7 million people who have seen the YouTube video below, go make a cuppa and take five minutes out of your day. Watch it now, and then come back! I was typically late in catching on to Chris Hadfield’s cover of David Bowie’s Space Oddity. Commander Hadfield, a Canadian astronaut, performed Bowie’s 1969 epic in space. After striking a deal with Bowie’s publishers, he put it on YouTube for a year. The video had 23 million views before Hadfield took it down in May 2014 to honour the agreement. Over the next six months, the lawyers and music publishers who negotiate such things struck a new deal to have the video, um, relaunched. Meanwhile Hadfield got more famous in Canada than Tim Horton, and that’s saying something.

I decided to write about this Internet phenomenon after the sixth person I engaged in conversation about YouTube professed to not know what it is. So, if you just walked in, YouTube is a way of putting your home movies on the Internet and then trying to harness the attention of the millions of people who spend hours trolling through it looking for their pet interest.
My Kiwi nephew, for example, plays the bagpipes and has a long list of YouTube videos of really good pipers doing their thing. He saves them as “favourites” so he can watch over and over.
The thing about YouTube is you can get actively engaged, opening an account and creating a “Channel,” which allows you to upload your own videos, stream other people’s videos and save them for repeated viewing. Uploading means transferring your video file to YouTube’s servers, a process which can and does take many hours. “Stream” means you can watch, but you can’t legally download the video to your computer.

YouTube is a great way to browse the music of someone you may have read about or heard at a live gig somewhere. You may decide, as I did after checking out mandolin virtuoso Chris Thele, to buy several albums from Itunes. Or you might just develop a late-night habit of checking it out for free. Now that we’re mentioning late night YouTube browsing, there is dubious material on there, some of which might ask you to prove you are 18 (which amounts to clicking “yes I’m 18”). But to Google’s credit, they are keeping it reasonably clean.

So what can YouTube do for you? There have been many overnight successes. Japanese ukulele player Jake Shimabukuro went on a world tour as a result of his consummate performance of While my Guitar Gently Weeps in New York’s Central Park. This video has had 13.6 million views.
YouTube videos with 100 million+ views tend to be of the Miley Cyrus twerking genre. There’s a much-viewed video of Miley swinging naked on a wrecking ball. It’s about as erotic as a cheese and tomato toasted sandwich. A link from Tumblr re-posted on Facebook by Mr Shiraz made a valid point:

“When Miley Cyrus is naked & licks a hammer it’s “art” and “music,” but when I do it, I’m “wasted” and “have to leave Bunnings”.

Mind you, she’s only Number 11 on the all-time YouTube hit parade, her antics eclipsed by Psy’s Gangnam Style (2.2 billion views), and Justin Beiber’s Baby (1.13 billion views).

Legal niceties

There are a few myths about YouTube I’d like to put to bed, if I may. The persistent one is that once you upload a video, particularly a video of you performing your own original song, the copyright no longer belongs to you. Well that’s just an urban myth, according to the good folk at the Australian Performing Rights Association. APRA currently distributes performance royalties each quarter to the top 4,000 most viewed videos on YouTube (within Australia) in three categories, user generated content, record label content, and other studio content. They’re in the process of expanding this distribution to a large pool of songs.
The trap for beginners who make a cover version of someone’s song and post it on YouTube is that they need licensed Synchronisation rights from the publisher/s of the song. If a video is posted without having first had those rights cleared, the video may be blocked or taken down. Alternatively, the copyright holders may choose to let the video stay up, and instead have ads placed around the video.

YouTube’s own statistics show how big this has become:
• YouTube has more than 1 billion users in 75 countries;
• Views per month are up 50% year over year;
• 300 hours of video are uploaded every minute;
• Half of YouTube views are on mobile devices;
• 1m+ advertisers (mostly small businesses) use Google ad platforms;

Advertise or not

While Google says 85% of its in-stream ads are “skippable,” usually the advertiser is going to claim your attention for six seconds, and for a savvy ad-writer, that’s all it takes.
A popular local musician in our own village, musician and innovative instrument maker Linsey Pollak, has made an impression on YouTube.
A video of Linsey at the Sydney Opera House making a carrot into a clarinet attracted 4.26 million views. The Tedx video went to nearly 62 million views when a Romanian Facebook Page edited the clip to make it shorter and re-posted it on their page.
Linsey says that while you can make money by “monetising”, he is not willing to have ads on his YouTube Channel.
“However I am constantly being approached by other Channels to partner with them in order to link to their channel (and Monetise).”
“There is a spin off in that my videos do get noticed and sometimes that leads to job offers, most of which come to nothing, but some do!”
He does most of his promotional work now on YouTube and cherishes it because it has created a “two-way conversation” between him and his larger audience.

Browsing on a rainy Friday night

So if you have nothing better to do tonight, go for a wander through YouTube. For sure you will get lost, somewhere between the myriad “how-to” videos, the moments of musical genius, bum-wiggling dancers and the current fad for getting your dog or cat to perform seemingly impossible tricks. Here are five diverse examples to get you started.
(right click mouse and select ‘open hyperlink’)
1/ The Blue Bird (Charles Stanfield) choral music by Matthew Curtis, singing all parts (and enjoying it). 16,266 views
2/ Beeswing – Richard Thompson (before he took to wearing his trademark beret)
548,578 views
3/ Dogs play bluegrass – it’s fake, but you’ll probably guess that.
1.12 million views
4 Bach’s Sonata No. 1 in G minor – IV – Genre-hopping musician Chris Thele won a $500,000 MacArthur Fellowship in 2012 (often referred to as a genius grant). He spent some of the money on “a very nice mandolin”). He started playing when he was two!
41,279 views
5/ Linsey Pollak turns a carrot into a clarinet, using a drill and a saxophone mouthpiece.
4.26 million views

A better man than I

(dreamstime stock photos)
Old man with walker

There’s a moment in the terribly sad yet life-affirming movie Still Alice when the husband of a woman with early onset Alzheimer’s says to his daughter, “You’re a better man than I”. Alex Baldwin’s character is ironically quoting Mr Kipling, as he admires his daughter’s ability to cope with Alice, her mind unravelling.
It is also the way, that when parents are faced with age-related illness and adversity, not all spouses or children are prepared to take up the challenge of becoming a carer. While I even now feel sadness and loss from losing my mother to cancer when I was 17 and she just 48, it is also true that I have escaped the difficult life changes that come with caring for ageing parents. The same goes for She Who Fell Down the Stairs But Got Away With It, who lost her mother at age eight. Both of our fathers have been gone 20+ years, so while there are empty seats at the Christmas table, we can just lock the door and drive around Australia for three months with a clear conscience.

I just had a visit from my cousin, who lives in the south of England, just up the road from where my Mum’s surviving sister lives. Auntie is 95 this year and still living independently. Just how long she can keep doing this is the question nobody really wants to ask, or what will happen if and when Auntie has to move into a nursing home. As many adult children faced with this dilemma know too well, parents don’t usually cope well at all with being moved into a 24/7 care situation.

A friend put me up to this particular topic (which had crossed my mind already, as you might guess). He and his wife have just moved her Dad in with them; at 89 he’s struggling with an illness and finding it too hard to manage on his own.
“That was always the plan,” he said. “But it has turned our lives upside down.”
And I can just hear Mr Shiraz turning away from his laptop and telling Mrs Shiraz: “He’s writing about the sandwich generation this week.” The Shirazes have done this twice, for each other’s mothers, now both gone to their graves. Mr S kept his friends in the loop on Facebook with photos of the daily baking adventures (therapists encourage this kind of activity for people with Alzheimer’s disease).
“It’s like ground hog day around here,” he told me. He also related something that may sound familiar – how mother had asked daughter “how many other old people do you look after here, dear?”

Caring for an elderly parent with Dementia and maybe underlying physical illnesses as well does take its toll on carers. Brothers and sisters weigh in with financial support and respite visits, but it is often down to one adult child and/or spouse.
On the other side of the city or in another city altogether, there may be a sibling who does not want to know. If they are well-off, they might ease their own burden of guilt by paying for live-in help. Or not.
As a nation of people, we are all living longer. As the line from one of my songs about a 100-year-old Morris Dancer goes: “They’re saying that a hundred is the new eighty that is what the birthday card did say.”
My white-haired Scottish Auntie now living in the south of England has survived a fall and a broken hip but is still coping home alone. She’d be one of the lucky ones – good genes and family support. She enjoys keeping up with sport on the tele, but needs a walker to get about and deafness makes it hard to communicate her needs.

The thing about volunteering to look after an aged parent in your own home is that no-one knows how long this arrangement may last. Five years is a common enough stretch but 15 to 20 years is not unrealistic. Meanwhile, the carers’ social lives are curtailed; their ingrained living habits fall away in favour of someone else’s needs.
There are ways of dealing with people who have started having short term memory loss or are sliding ever deeper into Dementia or Alzheimer’s disease.* Adult children quickly learn these tricks as a matter of survival.
What usually ends the familial live-in arrangement is a fall that requires hospitalisation, or when it gets to a stage where the carer can’t take any more sleepless nights.
I’m sure Mr Shiraz is not the first carer to be woken by a noise at 4am and on investigation finds Mother, more or less fully dressed, standing at the gate with a packed suitcase.
“Mike says we have to be at the airport,” she says, though Mike has been gone 12 years. The last time they went to the airport at 4am was when the kids were small and the family was going to Disneyland.

I’m changing names and circumstances, but those of you who care for or have cared for parents with Alzheimer’s disease or Dementia will recognise this story.
It is sad when someone who has managed to live into their 90s becomes frail and unable to cope, even if their mind is still relatively sharp. A mobility-related fall will accelerate the process; not just the fall, but the fear of having another one.
According to Australian Ageing Agenda, one in three people aged over 65 years fall each year. AAA, the media partner of the Australian Association of Gerontology, adds that fewer than 10% of falls cause a serious injury requiring emergency department or hospital admission.

All the same, that’s an awful lot of accidents waiting to happen. In 2010-2011, 92,150 people aged over 65 were hospitalised in one year for fall-related injuries. They were in hospital on average for seven days.
Head injuries and hip fractures were the most likely result of falls where someone required hospitalisation. About half of these falls were at or around the home, and about 25% happened in residential care facilities. AAA says many of the people who fell did not regain previous levels of mobility and independence.

So OK, there’s this frail, forgetful old character stumbling around the house in the middle of the night. He puts something in the microwave and sets it for 5 hours; the TV volume is too loud and there’s a funny old-man smell around the place. You were going to read the paper but he’s thrown it out – “They don’t even know who the Premier is and you reckon I’m losing it?”
Ironic, isn’t it, that he looked after you when you were a wriggling bundle wrapped in a smelly nappy; soothed you on his shoulder at 3am when you were teething; turned you on your side so the silly drunk teenager you were didn’t choke on your own vomit.
It’s your turn, son.
*The National Institute on Aging (NIA) defines Dementia as a brain disorder that affects communication and performance of daily activities. Alzheimer’s disease is a form of dementia that specifically affects parts of the brain that control thought, memory and language.