Deliberate Unauthorized Launch (DUL)

Recently I finished Eric Schlosser’s account of US strategic nuclear forces, Command and Control.   Schlosser is probably best known for his somewhat scathing expose of America’s fast food industry, Fast Food Nation, which I reviewed in my blog dated 9/21/07, later followed by my own blog on fast food [11/24/07] and finally my critique of Morgan Spurlock’s attack on McDonald’s, Super-Size Me [8/18/11].

Here Schlosser’s analysis focuses on who controls the US’ nukes.  While he does go into some detail about the Manhattan Project and some of the development and testing of the H-Bomb, most of his concern is about nuclear accidents or deliberate unauthorized launch (DUL) of US nuclear weapons.   Fortunately there have been none, but a few US nuclear bombers did crash – including one in North Carolina – and an ICBM blew up in Arkansas in 1980.  He gives considerable attention to these issues.  Fortunately again, none of these accidents resulted in a detonation of a nuclear device, though the experts Schlosser quotes believe this was due as much to sheer dumb luck as any deliberate safety designs. 

This book led me to re-watch a few movies (listed below) that I had seen earlier, but also to read Red Alert and watch “Fail-Safe”.  

Kill the King.  Before I get into those, some discussion of the decentralization of US control is warranted.  Nominally we expect that the ONLY person with the authority to launch our nukes is the President.  In fact, he keeps in his possession “the football”, i.e. the launch codes.   Only he can decide to launch, right?  We didn’t elect the SAC generals or the Navy captains on the nuke subs – we don’t even know who they are.  Fair enough.

            The problem is that the President is, was, and always has been, extremely vulnerable to nuclear attack, a so-called “decapitation” attack.  We imagine the President MUST have some underground bunker protected by thousands of feet of steel-reinforced concrete, protecting him while the rest of us get blown up, right?  Well, not exactly.  First off, such a fortress was never developed in all these years.  Second, a Soviet ICBM attack would arrive in 30 minutes.  Even with immediate notice of the attack, the President would have only 30 minutes to run to the shelter – assuming it existed.  As a practical matter, he would only be protected if the attack happened to occur when he was IN the shelter.  Fat chance of that.  In fact, it was precisely for this reason that such a fortress was never built.

            Well, if the President is the only one who can order the launch, and he can be taken out fairly easily by a surprise attack, where does that leave us?  Plan R.   Logic suggests we need a “Plan R” to allow surviving SAC generals to retaliate against this hypothetical Soviet sneak attack.   The problem is – as noted below – we have no way of reining in rogue SAC generals.

Red Alert (1958), by Peter Bryant.  A rogue Strategic Air Command general, Quinten, launches a pre-emptive US nuclear attack on the Soviet Union.   Only the US President knows that the Soviets have installed a device which will detonate nukes in the atmosphere, destroying all life on the planet, if the USSR is attacked.  The President attempts to recall the US bomber fleet – note: ICBMs were not then in service, but are by their nature 100% unrecallable – but one bomber still gets through.   As a token of good faith to the Soviets, because he knows that last bomber will succeed at destroying a Soviet ICBM base and the town next to it, the US President agrees to allow the Soviets to destroy a US city of similar size.

            If this sounds like “Dr. Strangelove”, it’s because the movie was in fact based on the book – and some dialogue practically lifted verbatim from the book - although with substantial differences.   One big difference is that Bryant goes into considerable detail about the US nuclear weapons and the B52K’s immunity to interception.  The other is that Quinten, unlike Ripper, actually has a good reason for launching the nukes.  Quinten knows that in very short time the Soviets will have an ICBM force the US lacks.  At that time, a Soviet first strike would destroy the US and we would be powerless to respond.  However, the Soviets assume we would never strike first, so they have no defense against a US first strike – therefore our pre-emptive strike has 100% chance of succeeding.   Well, except for the Doomsday device, which General Quinten does not know about.

Fail-Safe (1964).  This movie came out at the same time as “Dr. Strangelove” but gets overshadowed by it.  Unlike that movie, which has a fair amount of dark satire and humor – even Peter Sellers in two roles – this one is 100% serious.   Henry Fonda plays the US President, Larry “J.R. Ewing” Hagman plays his Russian interpreter, and Walter Matthau is a cocky civilian scientist who claims to be an expert on nuclear strategy.  In this film it’s a computer glitch which sends the SAC bombers to destroy the USSR.   We manage to recall – or the Soviets manage to shoot down – all but one US bomber.  But even the President AND the bomber pilot’s wife can’t seem to persuade him to abort the mission.  So the President agrees to send our own nuclear bombers against New York City as a token of good faith, knowing his own wife, the First Lady, is shopping in Manhattan.

Dr. Strangelove (1964).  Ah, the Stanley Kubrick classic we all know and love.  SAC General Ripper initiates Plan R, sending his wing of B52s off to the Soviet Union.  Why?  He believes the Soviets have undermined us by fluoridating our water supply, compromising our bodily fluids.  The Soviets are summoned to the War Room (no fighting, please, gentlemen!) and inform us about the Doomsday device.   Why didn’t they tell us about it earlier?  Well, they were planning to but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.  George C. Scott is the rambunctious and belligerent Air Force general, and of course Sellers is the RAF executive officer to Ripper and the eccentric ex-Nazi Dr. Strangelove. 

            As implausible as this scenario sounds, Schlosser did note that the Air Force’s attempt to screen its personnel for psychological problems was not entirely successful.   Moreover, in the wake of our failure in Vietnam, drug use in the US military became rampant in the late 70s and early 80s; see Joacquim Phoenix’s cynical 2001 film, “Buffalo Soldiers”.  Yes, this included the SAC and the ICBM crews.  Moreover, security for our tactical and intermediate range nukes in Europe was horrendously lax.  Basically it was guys like Winger & Ziskey (Bill Murray and Harold Ramis) protecting not only the Urban Assault Vehicle, but also our Pershing missiles.   But again – by some miracle no nukes were stolen.

A few more, while I’m on topic, though not directly related to rogue nuclear attacks.

Trinity & Beyond.   This is a documentary, narrated in a normal voice by William Shatner (Kirk, TJ Hooker, Denny Crane, Priceline Negotiator) about nuclear weapons, starting with Trinity – our first test in New Mexico in 1945 – and going all the way up to the present day.  What’s intriguing about this is that it’s not just OUR programs the movie shows:  yes, the H-Bomb tests in the Pacific, but also the British tests in Australia, the French tests in Algeria, the Soviet 54 megaton test in the early 1960s, AND a discussion of the high altitude tests which induce EMP (electromagnetic pulse) and a third disc going on about actual civilian uses, i.e. nuclear demolitions.   The structural tests in the 1950s – lots of buildings blowing up and trees blowing over – are put into context here, so now we know where all those movies get their footage of this stuff from.  And there’s some stuff here about underground tests, which are fascinating in their own way:  a large circular depression suddenly erupts in the middle of the desert.   Mainly it’s some eerily mesmerizing eye candy of nuclear tests in the Pacific – mushroom clouds silhouetting palm trees.  Morbidly fascinating!  Enjoy!

The Day After (1981).  “Fail-Safe” and “Dr. Strangelove” both ended with the nukes going off.  Ok, fine.  But this one went further.  NYC, Washington, L.A., all seem like obvious targets for Soviet attack.  But Kansas City?  What’s there to attack?  As it happens, several ICBM silos.  

            Here’s an aside about our “nuclear umbrella”.  NATO supposedly defended Western Europe against conventional attack by Soviet Warsaw Pact forces.  Even with US troops in Germany, NATO was always outmatched on the ground.  Our forces would be merely speed bumps on the Red Army’s trip to Paris.  It was our nukes aimed at Moscow which were supposed to deter the Soviets from rolling down the Champs Elysees.   Soviet tanks rolling down Pennsylvania Ave or Fifth Avenue?  Not likely.  Soviet ICBMS raining down on Washington or Manhattan in response to US nukes launched at Moscow after Soviet tanks rolled into Paris?  Much more plausible.  The Europeans didn’t want to pay for tanks and planes.  They wanted the US to risk its cities to Soviet nuclear attack to deter the Soviets from invading theirs, when our own cities were effectively immune to Soviet conventional forces.  So NY and LA were in the crosshairs of Soviet rocket forces because Nigel, Pierre and Hans were too cheap to buy tanks and planes.  Not really in our best interests, eh?  When you think about it, probably not.

            And case in point:  US and USSR bumping ugly over Berlin results in Soviet mushroom clouds over Kansas City.  Jason Robards’ character’s car shuts down on the highway outside KC, thanks to EMP.  Then several huge mushroom clouds erupt.  That alone was terrifying.  But the movie didn’t stop there: the fallout, the devastation, the breakdown, the hungry farmers wondering how to plant in ruined soil, the hospital overwhelmed with casualties, and then everyone’s hair falling out – if they survived, that is.  This is what made the movie so memorable.  If you die in the nuclear attack, well then, your worries are over.  But even if you survive, what then?  The best case scenario is still a nightmare.   The movie shocked even Ronald Reagan.  Watch it, if you haven’t already.  

Planet of the Apes

By now there are no less than 8 films, a novel, and two TV series on this.  We even had the “action figures” (they’re not dolls!  They’re action figures!) in the 70s.  With the series recently rebooted and due to continue, why not talk about this?

The Planet of the Apes (1963), by Pierre Boulle.  This is the original novel which started it all off.  I read it in English, although French is a language I don’t have much trouble reading.  None of the movies follows the plot exactly from start to finish, though the 1968 film gives us close to the beginning, and the Mark Wahlberg remake of recent vintage (2001) gives us the closest to the end of the novel; so the rest of the movies are original stories but based on the novel as an origin story.   The author was the same guy who wrote Bridge Over The River Kwai.  The novel is fairly short and easy to read, so there’s really no excuse for an ApeHead not to read it.  You can read, can’t you? 

Planet of the Apes (I) (1968).  The original 1968 film with Charlton “Ben Hur” Heston as Taylor.  This first movie establishes the general plot of the series.  In fact, it’s such a classic than anyone interested in the series should consider it to be the key film, possibly the most important film, of the entire series. 

            A trio of US astronauts (Taylor, Dodge and Landon) lands on what they believe to be an alien planet, after having been in stasis for several hundred years of space travel.   However, Taylor warns the other two astronauts that due to time dilation, thousands or millions of years have passed on Earth in the time they travelled mere centuries. 

            Upon arrival, the three find themselves caught in a hunt – intelligent gorillas are rounding up scantily clad, mute, humans.  Dodge is killed outright, Taylor is wounded in the neck and captured, and Landon’s outcome is only discovered later.  Taylor is put in pens with other humans, none of whom can talk, although he hooks up with a native female, Nova, who is pretty damn hot.  According to the novel, they’re all naked, but the movie obviously can’t do the same.  Too bad.  The society consists of intelligent chimpanzees (scientists), orangutans (elders) and warriors (gorillas).  So far as the apes know, humans are not intelligent and cannot talk, read, or write. 

            Although humans are treated roughly – as animals – one of the handlers, a chimp named Zira (Kim Hunter, aka “Stella” from “A Streetcar Named Desire”) – is actually very compassionate.  Taylor tries, and eventually manages to convince her of his intelligence.  Unfortunately his intelligence is a rude rebuke to the apes’ worldview.  In the original novel, Merou (the Taylor equivalent) addresses a collective assembly, basically the Ape Congress.  In the movie Taylor simply appears in front of a three-judge panel of orangutans. 

            I liked how Taylor eventually establishes a dialogue with Dr. Zaius, who reminds me of Rick Wakeman.    Clearly the “incompetent ape elders” are well aware that humans can be intelligent and that the fossils from the Forbidden Zone support the theory that human civilization predates the apes’, which of course is incompatible and thus unacceptable to the ruling class.  But of course this is all a secret from the rest of the apes, even from Cornelius, whose research points him in that direction.

            Although Taylor, Dodge and Landon all assume they’re on another planet, the landscape and atmosphere should have been a tipoff.  Even in 1972 we knew that there were no habitable planets anywhere near Earth.   The logical conclusion, even before seeing the Statue of Liberty, is that the spacecraft was programmed to return the ship back to Earth if its fuel would run out before reaching any suitable destination.  Anyhow.  

Beneath the Planet of the Apes (II) (1970).  Taking place immediately after Planet.  Another astronaut, Brent (James Franciscus), comes to the same planet, in search of Taylor.  He meets up with Nova, gets briefly captured by the apes, talks to Cornelius and Zira, then follows after Taylor (Heston), taking Nova along.  It turns out the humans did in fact survive the nuclear holocaust – which apparently destroyed human civilization and allowed the apes to thrive and develop their own - but have a small society buried deep in the ruins of NYC, worshipping the ICBM as a god.  They have an elaborate illusion system set up to protect them, but Taylor gets through it anyway.  Soon after escaping from the apes, Brent and Nova also breach the illusion barrier and find the cult – and Taylor.

            For their part, the apes also decide to invade the Forbidden Zone.  Although at first shocked and horrified by the illusion barrier – images of crucified apes and a bleeding Lawgiver – the sheer horror of the illusions finally convinces Zaius that it must in fact be an illusion.  [Seriously, their illusion system didn’t seem to fool anyone, at least not in these two movies.]

            Finally there’s a showdown downtown, as the invading ape army is far larger and stronger than the remaining Sithrak cultists.  The apes shoot Brent and Taylor.  Taylor manages to activate the last remaining nuke device before he dies, presumably destroying the entire city and/or planet, and the apes along with them.  

Escape From Planet of the Apes (III) (1971).   Zira, Cornelius and Milo (Sal Mineo) manage to escape from Earth just before Taylor detonates the nuke buried in NYC, but the resulting blast not only destroys Earth, it plunges the spaceship – actually Taylor’s ship – through time to L.A. in the early 70s.  Then it becomes “Planet of the Apes” in reverse, with Z & C (Milo dies almost immediately – just like the third astronaut in “PotA”) trying to convince skeptical earthlings of their intelligence.  Actually, unlike the apes on “PotA”, the humans of L.A. quickly realize Zira and Cornelius are intelligent and treat them as such.  And so they enjoy celebrity status until…

            Yep, the only snag comes when Zira, who can’t tolerate falsehood lets it slip that they’re actually from the future, and that the apes will eventually take over and a war will destroy the planet.  Sleazy scientist Hasslein (Eric Braeden) schemes to kill off Zira, Cornelius and their unborn baby.  Taking the equivalent roles of Z&C on Earth are human scientists Lewis Dixon (Bradford Dillman) and Stephanie Branton (Natalie Trundy), who help Z&C escape just as Z&C helped Taylor and Nova escape.  Even Khan – sorry, Armando - (Ricardo Montalban) has a role in this, as a sympathetic circus owner who – briefly – allowed Z&C to hide in his circus.  And quite conveniently, the chimpanzee in his circus also just gave birth to a baby chimp!  “Mama!”

Conquest of Planet of the Apes (IV) (1972).   It’s 1991 in L.A., and the “mama!” baby of Cornelius and Zira is now a grown chimp, Caesar, under Armando-Khan’s protection.  By this time gorillas and chimps are badly abused and oppressed, mainly because the humans know that they’re supposed to rebel and take over.  Self-fulfilling prophecy, no?  Guess what?  Caesar does in fact rally the chimps and gorillas (no orangutans here, though – where are they?) and takes over.  Big surprise. 

Battle For the Planet of the Apes (V) (1973).  This takes place soon after Conquest.  Caesar is still alive, as is MacDonald, the sympathetic black guy from the last movie.  Humans are somewhat subservient in ape society, but well-treated.  MacDonald tells Caesar that the archive tapes in the ruined, forbidden city may have footage of Cornelius’ and Zira’s testimony before Congress (from “Escape”).   Along with Virgil – aka Little Enos from “Smokey and the Bandit” (Paul Williams) – Caesar and MacDonald infiltrate into the ruined depths of L.A.  They do in fact find the footage and watch it.  However, the remnants of the human dictatorship remain in the city and chase out the trio.  

            Soon thereafter, the leader of the human dictatorship, Kolp, decides to take an expedition outside to wipe out the ape society.  A big battle ensues.  Given what we know – and the fact that the apes are the good guys in this series – the outcome is to be expected:  despite initial setbacks by our simian friends, ultimately they prevail and defeat the evil humans.  We learn that Caesar himself is the Lawgiver. 

** This fifth movie ended the series – for the time being.  Note that all the apes in these films, whether chimp, gorilla or orangutan, were human actors in makeup and costumes.   A live action TV series lasted one season, as did an equally unsuccessful animated series immediately thereafter, in 1974 and 1975.

 

Planet of the Apes (VI) (2001).  This was the reboot by Tim Burton with Mark Wahlberg as Davidson, essentially the Taylor (Heston) character.  I saw it in the movie theater when it came out, but only now, after having read the original novel and watched the 1968 original, do I see how they altered the story.

            In 2029, Davidson is an astronaut on the Oberon, a spaceship orbiting Saturn.  The ship encounters an anomalous space storm nearby, and sends off a probe with a chimp inside, Pericles.  Disobeying orders, Davidson takes a pod himself and chases after Pericles into the storm.  He crash lands on a planet, which seems to be inhabited by wild – but intelligent and speaking – humans, but dominated by apes.  Naturally he’s captured.  A female chimp, Ari (Helena Bonham Carter) (essentially Zira) befriends him and ultimately helps him escape to the “forbidden zone”.  The nemesis is General Thade (Tim Roth) whose ailing father confides in him the secret that humans used to be much more advanced than apes.   Inexplicably for a Tim Burton film, Johnny Depp is MIA.  Well, HBC is here.

            Davidson leads a small group of humans and a smaller group of sympathetic apes, to the forbidden zone, where he finds the wreck of the Oberon.   Eventually Thade is captured and neutralized, Davidson finds his way back to Earth.  And instead of Taylor beating his hands down on the beach recognizing the Statue of Liberty half-buried in the sand, Davidson finds Earth to be….very different.  “God damn you all to hell!”

            At the time I originally saw this, I hadn’t read the novel or seen the 1968 film.  With the benefit of that background I can recognize a major issue which may have doomed the remake to irrelevancy.   Leaving aside Wahlberg’s failure to match Heston’s acting, the biggest problem with this is that the humans can talk and are obviously intelligent. 

** No one seemed to like Burton’s version, so they gave it another shot.  This time around, the apes are computer generated, except for Caesar, who is Gollum’ed by Andy Serkis, Smeagol himself. 

Rise of the Planet of the Apes (VII) (2011).  This is somewhat of a remake of “Conquest”, though not exactly.  Lab scientist Will Rodman (James Franco) is trying to develop a cure of Alzheimer’s for his father (John Lithgow) and naturally the lab tests the serum on chimps first.  One test subject, a female chimp, Bright Eyes (Taylor’s nickname for Nova), shows promise, but then has to be put down after she goes BSI – it turns out she was simply protecting her baby, later named Caesar, who inherited the serum’s effects. 

            After the project is shut down and the apes “put down”, Will brings Caesar home and raises him there, also bringing some serum home to test on his father.  Good results initially, but eventually Will Sr’s body stops accepting the serum and he goes back to being old and befuddled.  Caesar attacks the neighbor, and he’s sent off to an animal sanctuary full of chimps + one gorilla and one orangutan (Maurice).   The sanctuary director (Brian Cox) isn’t so bad, but his son Dodge (poor Tom Felton, aka “Draco Malfoy” from the Harry Potter films) is kind of a jerk.  These poor apes can’t catch a break, can they?

            As you can imagine, Caesar eventually takes command of the apes in the sanctuary.  By the end of the film, he’s managed to break them out of the sanctuary, AND liberates the apes in Rodman’s lab AND the apes at the local zoo.  There’s a huge confrontation on the Golden Gate Bridge, and of course Caesar and all the apes are killed and the series comes to a screeching halt.   Oops, no, alternate ending.  No, although a few apes die, the rest manage to break through and establish a new community in the redwood forest.  And there was much rejoicing…

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (VIII) (2014).  After the deadly virus wipes out the majority of Earth’s human population, one of the last surviving enclaves, in San Francisco, makes contact with a society of chimps, gorillas, and orangutans – the group started up by Caesar in Rise.  The human leader, Dreyfus (Gary Oldman) has no particular bias against the apes, but he does want to reactivate the hydroelectric plant located within ape territory. 

            A team of peaceable humans negotiates the right to reactivate the power supply, thanks to an uneasy truce with the ape leader, Caesar (Andy Serkis).  Naturally, even among their small advance group, the humans have the poor judgment to bring along an obvious troublemaker, Carver (Kirk Acevedo, aka Agent Charlie Francis from “Fringe”) who does his best to antagonize the apes and sow mistrust – yet doesn’t seem to have any useful skills.   For their part, the Beta male, Koba, claims to mistrust the humans – sensibly enough – but is really using that as an excuse to seize power from Caesar himself.  As you might expect, he does accomplish that, shooting Caesar with an M4 carbine and leaving him for dead [why not finish him off?  “Sharks with friggin laser beams!”] 

            Led by Koba, the apes attack the human settlement and succeed in taking over, but also enslave their own kind, which naturally sows discontent among their own camp.  And since Caesar did survive, it’s only a matter of time before he recovers, reveals himself as still living AND a failed assassination attempt by Koba, and reasserts his control over the apes, hopefully resolving issues with the humans in the process.

            While restoring electricity to the human community might be otherwise innocent and not an inherent problem, the real reason they wanted the electricity restored was so they could re-establish contact with other human communities in the country and the world.  And doing so would most likely pose a definite threat to the continued existence of the ape society.  So, notwithstanding the peaceable intentions of Malcolm (Clarke) and the other more enlightened humans in the short term, this was not a situation which could be indefinitely sustained with peaceful coexistence.   

FYI:  this film did well enough that they’ll be making another one, due to be released in July 2016.

Themes.  “Ape shall never kill another ape”.  Generally a good idea, but Koba discards it in Dawn much to his discredit.  Commenting on this business of chimps, gorillas and orangutans collaborating, biologists scoffed at this, arguing that in real life such cooperation would be impossible, the three types would be fighting each other constantly. 

The Lawgiver.  A stylized chimp in statue form who serves as the apes’ Jesus/Aslan (“Monkey Jesus” – maybe that’s what she was going for).  Later we learn that it was Caesar himself.  

Rosslyn, Virginia

Recently I returned to this neighborhood on a Sunday afternoon.  I checked the entertainment center at River Place, walked around the grounds, went through the Rosslyn Metro Mall, and exercised at Gold’s Gym.  This was the Gold’s location at which I originally established my memebership in September 1999.

Personal Origins.   During home leave of summer 1980, our family stayed at the Key Bridge Marriott.  Its claim to fame is a pool which is both indoor and outdoor; you can swim under the glass window from one side to the other. 

            Sometime in 1984, my parents purchased a co-op efficiency (studio) in Rosslyn, Virginia.  During the summer of 1986, my entire family stayed in this efficiency during our summer home leave.  That’s two adult parents, two adult males (my brother and I) and our younger sister, who was 11 years old at the time. Two sofa beds and a cot took up 95% of the floor space when we were sleeping. This was somewhat claustrophobic, so we spent most of the time out and about, coming home just to sleep. 

            In summer 1990, I graduated from University of Maryland, College Park, my parents moved back to the US from Paris, and in August 1990 I started school at the George Mason University School of Law, which is located in Arlington.  Back then it was still in the former Kann’s Department Store building.   Since Rosslyn was just a few Metro stops, an hour walk, or a 10 minute drive, from there, I ended up moving into that efficiency.  In October 2004 I moved to a larger efficiency at Skyline (Route 7 & George Mason Drive), so it’s been 10 years since I lived in Rosslyn. 

History.  As you might imagine, my father knew much more about the world around us than I did – going back to the 1930s.  An example of this was his description of Rosslyn in the 1950s.   At that time, pawnshops were illegal in DC but legal in Virginia, so Rosslyn was a sleazy den of pawnshops.  By now only National Pawnbrokers, up the street on Lee Highway, remains.  

            In more recent times, Rosslyn is exempt from DC’s restriction on building heights – as not to obscure the Washington Monument – so it has a fairly modest skyline of skyscrapers, the tallest and oldest of which are the USA Today buildings; as a skyline, it’s about the same as Norfolk or Richmond, nothing too dramatic, but enough to piss off armchair architectural aesthetes from DC.  Too bad.  This little skyscraper city version of Rosslyn, as it is today, is the Rosslyn I lived in for 14 years. 

Road Hub.  More so than any other part of Northern Virginia, Rosslyn is the biggest hub of roads.  First off there’s Key Bridge, which crosses the Potomac into DC, veering west to Canal Road and Foxhall Road, and east to M Street and Georgetown.  From the northwest comes down the George Washington Memorial Parkway, which leads further south to Reagan National Airport and Old Town Alexandria. From Rosslyn, Route 110 runs south to the Pentagon, Crystal City, and I-395.  I-66 comes out of Rosslyn and goes due west, all the way out to Front Royal and I-81.  Not to be confused with the older Route 66 – Chicago to L.A. and mostly replaced by I-40 in the early 1950s – this highway is the main east-west highway in Northern Virginia. Route 29, also known as Lee Highway, goes roughly northwest of Rosslyn over to Fairfax.  Route 50, aka Arlington Blvd, also goes west to Fairfax and follows I-66 almost parallel, and it intersects Route 29 in downtown Fairfax.  Finally, Wilson Blvd. goes up the hill and leads through Arlington all the way to Seven Corners, where I work today. 

            About the only two major roads which don’t pass through Rosslyn are 495, the Beltway – Rosslyn is well within the Beltway; and 395, the extension of I-95 (the Maine to Florida interstate highway) which goes inside the Beltway up to DC.  I-395 comes over the 14^th Street Bridge a bit further south than Rosslyn, although it’s a short 5 minutes on the GW Parkway passing by the Pentagon to get onto.  

            Another Dad-Nugget:  I-95 coming down from Baltimore does NOT hook up with I-395 coming up from the Virginia section of the Beltway.  Why not?  Because DC spent the money originally allocated for that connection to build the DC Metro.  I-395 finally expires in the center of town at New York Avenue.  Anyone driving from north of DC (coming down from Baltimore) and intending to continue south of DC (down towards Richmond), or vice versa, is theoretically supposed to follow 95/495 on its eastern half.  This is why the western half of the Beltway, running through Montgomery County, Maryland, spouting off to 270 northwest, and going into Northern Virginia, is called “495”, while the eastern half, going past College Park and through Prince George’s County, Maryland, across the huge Woodrow Wilson Bridge, and through Alexandria, is called 95/495.  Bypassing Baltimore on I-95 is as simple as just going through the Fort McHenry Tunnel, or the Harbor Tunnel, instead of having to take I-695 all the way around. 

River Place.   This is a co-op complex of 4 10 story brick buildings, all in a cross-shape.  My unit was in the North Building, on the fifth floor, facing southwest down Route 50, with a view of the front gate and Lynn Street.  The complex had an outdoor pool and an indoor “entertainment complex”.  This complex was primarily a poorly stocked gym with one treadmill, a ping-pong table, and 3 permanently disabled hot tubs.  Since I left, they’ve upgraded this to a somewhat more modern gym and pool tables. 

Phil Next Door.  My best friend Phil, who had visited me at River Place several time and fully appreciated Rosslyn’s hublike qualities, moved there in 1993 into a duplex.  He remained there until 2000, when he and his then-wife Julie moved to a larger single-family house in nearby McLean.  His duplex was a short 10 minute walk from me, so I could drink at his place and walk home.  That was fun and convenient while it lasted. 

Key Bridge & Georgetown.   Key Bridge is a large, ornate 20’s era bridge from Virginia to DC.  The DC end is Georgetown, a neighborhood consisting of M Street and Wisconsin Ave (perpendicular to each other).  There are lots of bars and trendy stores, so it’s a great place to hang out and socialize, especially on Halloween.   Walking across Key Bridge is a nice experience:  you can look up the Potomac and see DC. 

            In January 1996 I went to see Motorhead at the Bayou (a now-defunct club under the K Street Whitehurst Freeway).  Bone dry, walking across.  By the time the show was over, the bridge and all of Rosslyn was covered in 2 feet of snow.  This blizzard was so enormous, it killed almost a whole week of work.  My brother, who had been living with me at the time and working at TASC next door, was stuck out in Centreville with his wife’s family.   

Local neighborhood.  One of the very first Chipotle locations in Northern Virginia was in Rosslyn, at the corner of Wilson Blvd. and Lynn Street.  For awhile I resisted going, as it appeared super pretentious, but eventually I relented, and have been addicted ever since.  The USA Today Building’s mini-mall has basically lapsed, but the Rosslyn Metro Mall is still in existence.  Tom Sarris’ New Orleans Steakhouse is gone, as is the Roy Roger’s.  There really aren’t any clubs or bars, but some upscale condo buildings are going up.  

Jimmy Page

Having written blogs on Deep Purple (1984-present), Black Sabbath without Ozzy and Ozzy after Black Sabbath, a stab at Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page, focusing on his career outside Zeppelin, might be long overdue.  Maybe not.  Anyhow.

Early Years

He was born on January 9, 1944, in London.  He taught himself and played in various bands, winding up in Neil Christian’s band the Crusaders from 1961-63.  After briefly quitting the music business for health reasons, he returned in the form of a session guitarist.  To name his session work would be dull, but his contributions include “I Can’t Explain” by The Who, “Heart of Stone” by the Rolling Stones, and extensive work with Roy Harper and Joe Cocker.   I don’t have the patience to collect Page’s session work per se, and a similar collection of pre-Deep Purple recordings by Ritchie Blackmore costs $200 used on Amazon.

Yardbirds

In 1965, he joined the Yardbirds, replacing Paul Samwell-Smith who had recently quit, briefly sharing guitar duties with Jeff Beck, who had replaced Eric Clapton.  The pair can be seen on stage together – off in the background in a scene – in the movie “Blow Up”, unremarkable except for this element.  Soon after, Beck himself quit, leaving Page as the only guitarist.  This lineup released Little Games, the last of the Yardbirds albums.  “White Summer” is the song on this album most reminiscent of Led Zeppelin, but his playing on the album is recognizable.  The band seemed to be moving to a more mainstream 60’s hard rock/psychedelic sound like Cream, away from the commercial pop of the mid-60s which caused Clapton to quit. 

            The stress of touring and the lack of success led the remaining members of the band to quit in 1968, leaving Page with the name and no band.   He then assembled session bassist John Baldwin, better known as John Paul Jones, and two unknowns, singer Robert Plant and drummer John Bonham, to form The New Yardbirds.  As most of you know, this band is better known as Led Zeppelin.

Post Zeppelin

After Physical Graffiti (1975), Zeppelin put out three albums:  Presence (1976), In Through the Out Door (1979), and Coda (1982), with Coda being a later release of outtakes.  However, this was a release by the band, not one of these unauthorized record company throw-outs without the band’s consent.  Although many Zeppelin fans may disagree with me, particularly about Presence, I consider them to be well below standard; I refer to them as the Last 3.  However, Page & Plant stand by Presence, and some of those tracks resurface on the pair’s more recent live collaborations.

 

In October 1980, John Bonham choked on his own vomit (no evidence of anyone else’s) and died.   This broke up Led Zeppelin, forcing the three surviving members to kill time before subsequent reunions.  Along the way, Bonham’s son Jason (born 1966, before Led Zeppelin came about) developed his chops in Airrace – who opened for AC/DC in 1984 – and playing on Jimmy Page’s solo album Outrider. 

After Zeppelin, Page did some movie soundtrack work:  Death Wish II, Scream For Help (w/John Paul Jones), and Lucifer Rising.   I find this stuff (e.g. BOC’s Bad Channels) to be mood music or elevator music, hardly worth listening to in its own right.  I’ve passed on collecting it.

Honeydrippers, Vol. 1. (1984).  Remarkably – though perhaps not too surprising – his earliest post Zep musical work was a collaboration with none other than Robert Plant.   This was a 50s-style band which didn’t last long.  I never bothered to snatch this up.  For that matter, I haven’t bothered to collect any of Plant’s solo work, although of the three surviving band members, Plant’s career has been by far the most successful. 

 The Firm.  The Firm (1985), and Mean Business (1986).  This was a “supergroup” with Free/Bad Company singer Paul Rodgers, bassist Tony Franklin, and drummer Chris Slade (who later joined AC/DC).  The music is typical 80’s AOR fluff, but aside from that not particularly bad or mediocre.  The group actually toured their albums, but collectively agreed that they would only do two albums and a tour.  Rodgers later joined up with the surviving Queen members to resurrect that band, an experiment which didn’t last long.  Freddie Mercury was a tough act to follow, and I don’t believe anyone, even Adam Lambert, can really fill his shoes, though I can’t really fault Lambert, May, and Taylor for giving it a shot. 

Outrider (1988).  Technically this is Page’s only real “solo” album.  Jason Bonham plays drums; Robert Plant sings on “The Only One”.  One song, “Hummingbird”, is a Leon Russell cover.  This sounds very close to the Led Zeppelin we know and love.  As good? No, but no worse than the Last Three.

Coverdale/Page (1993).  Back when I was in high school, my buddy Sean C consistently disparaged Whitesnake, the band former Deep Purple vocalist David Coverdale formed after DP Mark IV finally disbanded in 1976.  His verdict was that Whitesnake was ripping off Led Zeppelin.  Now having heard all of Whitesnake’s albums - mainly the Bernie Marsden/Micky Moody era of that time – and all of Zeppelin’s output, I’d say there is a very modest sliver of truth to that assertion.  But it doesn’t look like Coverdale was copying Led Zeppelin itself, so much as the blues-rock source material; you could just as easily accuse him of ripping off Free or Bad Company.

            Be that as it may, Jimmy Page and David Coverdale did finally manage to make an album together.  And guess what – it’s not bad.  In fact, It’s pretty good.  I was surprised at how heavy and intense it was.  In fact, I put it above the Last Three and equal to anything he’s done post-Zeppelin. 

Jimmy Page & Robert Plant.  No Quarter (1994) & Walking Into Clarksdale (1998).   After the Honeydrippers and “The Only One”, Page and Plant got together again.  “No Quarter” is a live album with some mediocre extra song-age thrown in.  John Paul Jones was not invited, and even miffed that they used HIS song, “No Quarter”, as the title, and even played it – in his absence!   I don’t blame him.  The performances were OK.  Any Zeppelin fan starved for Page/Plant live material after The Song Remains the Same can certainly enjoy this.

            Walking was actually all new studio material.  I thought it would be shitty, but then again, would that pair really deign to release crap in 1998 with their names on it?  No, I didn’t think so.  Rank it up there above the Last Three and below the prior Zeppelin. 

Jimmy Page & the Black Crowes, Live at the Greek (2000).  Jimmy played a one-off concert with the Black Crowes at the Greek Theater In L.A.  In addition to Zeppelin songs – including “Hey Hey What Can I Do” and “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” - they also played “Oh Well” (Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac), “Shapes of Things” (Yardbirds/Jeff Beck), and a few other blues songs.  The Crowes do a fantastic job of replacing Plant, Bonham and Jones.  Consider this practically a de facto LZ live concert.  (Maybe the Crowes should do a show with Bobby Weir, Phil Lesh, Bill Kreutzman and Mickey Hart....)

Celebration Day (2007).  This is the most recent LZ live show:  Page, Plant, Jones and Jason Bonham at the 02 Arena in London, a one-off show which whetted our appetites, only to have Plant piss on our parade shortly thereafter and nix the idea of any tour.  This was meant as a tribute to Ahmet Ertegun, the founder of Atlantic Records, who died in 2006.  Record label executives are so frequently the bad guys in most band’s stories, that it’s remarkable – the exception that proves the rule – that this man was so well-liked among musicians.  I don’t think there are enough well-esteemed, deceased record label bosses to produce sufficient tribute concerts to constitute a proper tour.   Anyhow.

            It’s a CD/DVD combo.   Let me piss off Zeppelin fans further by saying this:  enough already, give Jason Bonham his due.  Yes, his father was a great drummer, up there with Moon (or maybe we should say, “down there with him now”).  But the “Kid” has been playing on his own for some time, and even contributed original drumming to Black Country Communion.  Jason does the job.

            The setlist was unremarkable, but I’d have pulled the two Presence songs, “For Your Life” and “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” and brought in “Over the Hlls and Far Away” and some other song.

Page vs. Plant.  I don’t know if Jimmy Page has his tombstone or mausoleum picked out yet, but if he did, I wouldn’t be surprised if it simply had his DOB, the date he died to be chiseled in later, and “ZOSO” as his name.  If we only remembered him as the lead guitarist of Led Zeppelin, he would be 100% fine with that.

            Plant, on the other hand, would probably NOT care to have the circular “plant” symbol from LZ IV on his tombstone.  His would probably state his full name with no mention of LZ.  He remains consistently aggressive in asserting his musical identity independent of Led Zeppelin.  No tour, no new LZ material, nothing – back to his solo career, much to Page’s immense frustration.   Although Page obviously hasn’t asked for my advice, I’d give it to him anyway:  screw Plant, assemble an all-star supergroup, and play whatever the hell you want.  Because I can’t see Page as simply touring with Jones, Jason, and another singer – no matter how talented – and calling it “Led Zeppelin.”  But it would serve Plant right if he did.  Let some other singer embarrass Plant and put his own stamp on Zep’s classics.  

Vinyl

My next topic: VINYL.   Although I originally addressed this issue awhile back, (Olde Music, 5/23/08), I’d like to tackle it again in more detail. 

I repaired my Cerwin-Vega speakers a few weeks ago, and upgraded the mat on my turntable to a cork mat, so I’ve been accumulating some 180 grain vinyl: the first 6 Black Sabbath albums, the Sabbath set at California Jam (1974), Grateful Dead Anthem of the Sun and American Beauty, Moody Blues Days of Future Passed, King Crimson In The Court of the Crimson King, and Hawkwind, Hall of the Mountain Grill.  Urban Outfitters and FYE are beginning to carry vinyl as well.  Obviously Vintage Vinyl, in Ford, New Jersey (about 20 minutes north of Rutgers) carries this format – which is where I got the CA Jam record.  Here are some thoughts on this.

1.         78s.  First there were 78’s, on thick shellac but very fragile.  They were 10” in diameter and could fit 3 minutes of music on a side.  Because the grooves are much larger and require a special needle, 78s need a record player specifically designed for them, and will not play on any record player which plays LPs.  Because the LP format (see below) came out in 1948, any depiction of someone playing music in the 20s, 30s, or WWII is likely to be of 78s. 

2.         LPs.  The more familiar 12”, 33.3 RPM format came out in the late 40s, developed by Columbia.  Because this format could fit 20-30 minutes per side, they called it “long playing” (LP).  To the extent vinyl is still around – and making a comeback – it’s in this format. 

3.         180 Grain.  The prior standard, from 1948 to the 1980s, was 130 grain. The recent reissues are in 180 grain, which means a thicker album which can accommodate deeper grooves and thus – theoretically – a richer, fuller sound and better sound quality.

4.         I don’t think I’ll get any vinyl versions of recent albums which were originally released on CD.  The Beatles records are re-released on 180 grain vinyl, but that includes Past Masters – which should be all those 45s – and the BBC records.  (Still no Hollywood Bowl live album).  On the other hand, one big plus of vinyl is that the jacket displays bitchin’ artwork much better than a CD insert, and that includes Age of Winters by The Sword (2006).

5.         In one case, Sleep’s Dopesmoker, I really have to wonder about the wisdom of releasing the 90’s era music, originally released on CD, on vinyl.  This album was one 60 minute song without lyrics.  It’s basically a humungous jam.   Noway, nohow, is that fitting on one side of an LP.  In fact, it fits on 3 sides.  Breaking up a continuous song on multiple sides?  Huh?  That sounds like back when 78s were in vogue, and a complete opera or classical piece had to be split up over upteen 78s (capacity of less than 3 minutes per side), contained in a binder (“album”) with sleeves.

6.         We still have most of the original vinyl we collected up until the mid 80’s.  I believe it was 1988 when my brother got his first CD player, 1989 when I got mine.  The last few vinyl albums I bought were Judas Priest, Turbo (Ram It Down was among the first CDs), Van Halen 5150 (OU812 was among my first CDs), the three Deep Purple Mark I albums (we have all the Mark II and III albums on vinyl, plus Perfect Strangers, House of Blue Light, and Deepest Purple), and the early Scorpions albums, e.g. Lonesome Crow, In Trance, Taken By Force, and Tokyo Tapes, all bought in summer of 1988.  Thus I can identify 1988-89 as the period when we stopped buying vinyl and started buying CDs. 

**         Since car CD players were still a few years away and very prone to skipping when they did come out, and CD-Rs were also years in the future, the advent of CDs did not spell the immediate end of cassettes.  In fact we still had to retain that format if only to be able to listen to anything in a car. 

7.         How does 180 grain vinyl compare to …not-180-grain vinyl?  On the turntable, through the speakers, and turned up somewhat, the 180 grain records sound very good.  Very rich, very full.  Better than the original vinyl?  Probably, but I don’t have the patience to check.  Better than a remastered CD?  Aha, that’s the real question.  The experts (audio engineers, not hipsters) say remastered CDs are better than vinyl.  I don’t trust the audiophile hipsters who swear by 180 grain vinyl to admit if they can’t tell the difference.

            Keep in mind that when CDs were first released in that format in the mid to late 80s, no effort was made to optimize them for CD sound quality; the labels simply wanted to release something that you could physically play on a CD player.  I suppose they assumed that the buyers would assume the sound quality was better.  Only later did they go back and remaster them.  The Beatles were an exception: their first generation CDs were remastered, but the audiophile crowd disliked the job so much that the Beatles went back and redid the remasters a second time. [I compared Help! on first generation CD vs. the newer reissue, and the new version does sound noticeably better].   AC/DC (Atlantic & Elektra), Black Sabbath (Castle & Rhino), King Crimson (thirty-fifth Anniversary remasters vs. fortieth Anniversary remixes), and now Led Zeppelin (first Atlantic and now second Jimmy Page supervised Atlantic) are all bands with not one but TWO series of remasters.  While the difference between the initial non-remastered releases and the first generation remasters are probably noticeable, I have to wonder if anyone – aside from hardcore audiophiles – can detect the difference between the two generations of remasters.  Then there are bands like Soundgarden who have remastered Superunknown, which was originally released on CD in the first place (1994).

            I do read yahoos on Facebook swearing that vinyl sounds much better than CDs.  Again, the experts claim that this might only be true with respect to first generation CDs (not remastered).  Someone posted a back to back replay of a Tina Turner song in both formats, and the difference was noticeable – in favor of the CD.  A minority of people guessed that the better sounding recording was vinyl.  WRONG. 

            Finally I listened to Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath on my stereo.  Exhibit 1: 180 grain vinyl version from Rhino Records.  How was it?  It sounded nice.

            Exhibit 2: SBS in Castle Remasters [which are VERY difficult to distinguish from the later Rhino remasters].  How was it?  It sounded nicer:  clearer, less compressed, breathing better. 

8.         Aside from hipsters making vague claims of vinyl superiority, the most cogent and understandable – and verifiable – claims on behalf of vinyl, and this applies to the first generation as well as the 180 grain reissues, is this business of having to put on the record, drop the needle, and flip the record, an elaborate, retro ritual.  I mean, having done all that, it MUST sound better….right?

9.         Authenticity.  Ironically, if your point in going with 180 grain vinyl is a tribute to nostalgia, because you insist that music originally released on vinyl should be listened to on vinyl, you’re missing the point with 180 grain vinyl, which was not available back in the 60s and 70s and is a modern vinyl format.  The more cogent argument is that you’re dead set on listening to this in a vinyl format, for nostalgia purposes, and simply want to optimize the experience and come as close as you can to remastered CDs with this experience.  Fine:  but don’t be an idiot and try to argue that 180 grain vinyl is superior to a remastered CD, because – as noted above – most audio engineers and a blind listening test will tell you otherwise.

10.       Herbal Enhancement.  I'll officially pronounce myself neutral on the topic of cannabis, though strongly in favor of its legalization, as it is non-lethal and non-addictive.  One area where I think cannabis is having an impact, possibly unexpected, is this vinyl business.  With CDs and digital formats, especially streaming, you can go out and about and listen to your favorite music:  while at the gym, while driving, etc.  Not an option for vinyl, which you have to listen to in the privacy of your (or a friend's) home.  And under those circumstances, packing a bowl to enhance the listening experience might well be almost required.  Under the influence of the herb, practically anything you put on that turntable will sound amazing.  Has any stoner tried comparing remastered CDs vs. 180 grain vinyl while blazed?  Somehow I doubt it.  Perhaps the 180 grain vinyl people should be subsidizing the cannabis industry.....

Ultimately it looks like this.  If you have a good stereo, with good speakers, and a CD/DVD player going through them, but NO turntable – audiophile or otherwise – save your money and stick with CDs.  If you have a turntable going through that same stereo AND feel nostalgic for vinyl, by all means do as I did and get a few records here and there.  Do not pay $50-100+ for any vinyl, especially if you can get a remastered CD for a fraction of the price.  And “audiophile” turntables start at $300, going up to $1000, with no guarantee you’ll be able to tell 180 grain vinyl from remastered CDs.  The experts (audio engineers, not hipsters) say CDs are better; logic suggests that modern technology should surpass mid-twentieth century technology as well.  Is there any compelling reason why your ears should disagree?