Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Pet Sounds: One of Rock's Best Albums Comes to Life


The pet sounds you'll hear if you attend the San Diego County Fair on Thursday evening won't just be coming from the animal barns at the northeast corner of the expansive oceanfront fairgrounds. They'll also be coming from the Grandstand Stage.

Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys' mastermind, is in the midst of a tour in honor of the 50th anniversary of Pet Sounds, the groundbreaking 1966 album featuring such seminal Wilson compositions as Wouldn’t It Be Nice, Sloop John B, Caroline No and God Only Knows

Brian and his current band, which includes fellow original Beach Boy Al Jardine and a longtime Beach Boy Blondie Chaplin, will be performing the record in its entirety, along with other Beach Boys classics and a few deep Wilson cuts. Seeing Brian bring this record to life in Southern California, within eyeshot of the beach, is for me the San Diego concert event of 2016.

Greatest Rock Album Ever?

Pet Sounds is now regarded as one of the greatest albums of the rock era. And it is one of my personal favorites. But it didn't get quite so much love when it was first released. Beach Boys fans expecting more of the Fun, Fun, Fun from 1964 were a bit taken aback by the band's more mature direction a year later.

But for anyone who was really paying attention to Brian's musical evolution, this should not have come as a surprise. There were already clear glimpses of Brian's introspective, even melancholy side on such songs as In My Room from as far back as 1963. Even in some of Brian's sunniest compositions, there were scattered clouds.

Pet Sounds found Brian at his creative peak. The world already knew he was a gifted songwriter, but this record was the crowning achievement of this master melody maker's storied career. A record that has aced the test of time, Pet Sounds' creativity and inventiveness are staggering. Sleigh bells, bongos, vibraphones, timpani, güiro, Sparkletts water jugs, empty Coke cans, orange juice jugs and more were used in the songs. It all works.

And the album's stunning centerpiece is God Only Knows, which McCartney has called the greatest song of all time. Written in less than an hour, the song originally included a sax solo that was mercifully scrapped. God Only Knows is nothing less than the perfect pop song, and Brian wisely chose his brother Carl to sing it. Carl's innocent, angelic voice was the perfect vehicle for Brian's longing melody.

While the album produced four successful singles, the public's overall reception to Pet Sounds was lukewarm. It peaked at number 10 on the Billboard chart -- a dud compared to previous top-selling Beach Boy releases. The record label's marketing suits freaked out and insultingly hurried a greatest hits album just two months after Pet Sounds was released.

For some fans, especially the younger ones who loved the Beach Boys but never considered the group as high art, listening to Pet Sounds was jarring. It was not unlike the experience Bob Dylan loyalists must have had a year earlier when the erstwhile folkie released his electrified single Like a Rolling Stone then performed with a rock band at the Newport Folk Festival. 

But both of these legendary artists have always done it their way, and of course both have survived and thrived.

The Life of Brian

Brian Wilson today
Most everyone knows about Brian's tortuous descent into madness. While his monstrous father was alternately pushing him and belittling him, Brian was hearing voices in his head even as he experimented with chord progressions and studied the four-part harmonies of the Four Freshman vocal group.

Armed with great ambition, an obviously innate sense of melody, and a spectator/outsider's curiosity for California subcultures such as surfing and sports cars (he never surfed), Brian, along with brothers Carl and Dennis, family friend Al Jardine and cousin Mike Love, formed what would become arguably the greatest American rock band of all time.

But after the Beach Boys' smashing rock and roll success in the early 1960's, Brian's bandmates, particularly the eternally prickly Love, weren't too enamored of his increasingly inward songs. Pet Sounds, which for all intents and purposes was Brian's first solo record, was his answer to the Beatles Rubber Soul, the acclaimed 1965 record that elevated John Lennon and Paul McCartney to an even loftier level as songwriters.

A casual fan of the Beach Boys might think that Brian's beachy anthems were more influenced by Paul's positive pop than John's darker, more cynical tunes. But Brian was enamored of both. And John's songwriting shined even brighter than McCartney's on Rubber Soul. Arguably John's three finest compositions - Nowhere Man, Norwegian Wood and In My Life - were on that album.

Brian set out to equal if not top the Beatles, which in turn influenced the Beatles to create Sgt. Pepper. Sadly, though, after the cool reception to Pet Sounds, the voices in Brian's head as well as the real voices all around him got louder and drove him into a deeper depression and paranoia.

The dissension in the band that started during the painstaking year-long Pet Sounds sessions exploded with the subsequent Smile album, which was never released (until Brian finished it some 30 years later).

Having his most personal work rejected by his family and to some extent the public crushed Brian, who is too gentle a soul to fight back. He just kept falling deeper into himself. The 2014 film Love and Mercy poignantly chronicles that descent and the Svengali-like control his despicable, disgraced therapist Eugene Landy had over him.

The film also happily shows how Brian's wife Melinda Ledbetter, as well as his brother Carl, moved to get rid of Landy and literally saved Brian, who now seems as emotionally healthy as he has been his entire adult life. This is quite possibly the most amazing mental health recovery in the history of show business.

Seeing Brian smile contently now as he performs his own masterful creations is pure joy. Because of the music, yes, but also because his return from the abyss seemed so unlikely for so long. Brian certainly had help from his loved ones to get his life back, to find himself again, especially from his loving wife. But I think it's fair to conclude that if you can point to one thing that really healed Brian and brought him back from the depths of despair, it was music itself.

Music reminded Brian who he was. It saved him. And I have to be very honest: there have been times in my life where Brian's music has saved me, too. So when he and his bandmates hit the stage at the San Diego County Fair this week, don't be surprised if I'm the one cheering the loudest, and maybe even shedding a tear. It's good to have this American music treasure back where he belongs: on a stage, singing his songs, the greatest pop songs ever written.

Monday, May 30, 2016

Arthur's War! World War II Hero's 70-Year Fight with the VA

War hero Arthur Lincoln Winters
EXCLUSIVE FOR     
THE RENO DISPATCH....

When the Germans declared war against the United States on Dec. 11, 1941, Arthur Lincoln Winters (left) couldn't wait to get into the fight. 
Winters, a proud Jewish-American from New York City who had enlisted in the Army a year before, was assigned to the 1st Infantry Division, the famed Big Red One.

He quickly became a decorated soldier, surviving gunshot wounds to his right arm and shoulder during a fierce, three-day battle with the Germans in Northern Africa in 1942. 

Lying all night on the battlefield at Djebel Berda in Tunisia, Winters almost bled to death but was captured by the Germans. He subsequently endured more than two years in brutal German prisoner-of-war camps from Germany to Poland. During those 25 months, Winters was tortured, frozen and almost starved to death.

But as harrowing as his war years were, his longest and arguably toughest battle didn’t start until after he came home.

Winters, who wanted to stay in the Army after the war but was rejected presumably because of his physical and mental condition as a result of his combat and imprisonment, was honorably discharged in 1945. He filed for disability just a week later.

Still malnourished and weak from his imprisonment, and still in chronic pain from the gunshot and shrapnel wounds, Winters could barely lift his right arm. He was also still relearning how to walk because both his feet were frostbitten after being forced by his German captors to march barefoot in sub-freezing weather.

Winters was also coping with severe PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress) before it was called PTSD. The hypertension, nightmares and flashbacks from being shot in combat and his prison internment stayed with him the rest of his life, his family says.

It took two years for Veterans Affairs (VA) to review his disability claim. But after the lengthy wait, Winters was given just a ten percent disability rating by the VA. He didn’t understand this decision. He had told the original examiner about all his health issues, not just the gunshot wound. 

After earning a Purple Heart and a large boxful of medals fighting for his country, he felt abandoned by his government. For the next 64 years, Winters fought the VA. During this agonizing struggle, multiple documents were lost by the federal agency, which years later admitted to making several key mistakes in Winters’ case.

The VA acknowledged that its doctors performed two unnecessary, back-to-back bladder surgeries on Winters in 1971 at the VA hospital in Albuquerque, which Winters’ family said permanently damaged his urinary tract and had other devastating health repercussions.

In 2000, 55 years after the end of World War II, the Board of Veterans Appeals determined that Winters' service-related injuries qualified him for 100 percent disability. But the agency made the pay retroactive back only to 1998, not to the date many of his injuries were incurred in 1945. 

This ruling incensed Winters, who said he had been disabled by far more than 10 percent when he returned home in 1945 and had multiple documents to prove it. 

In a 1995 interview, Winters told a newspaper reporter, “After I got my combat wounds, I never bothered anyone. I always felt I could depend on my government. I always thought it would take care of me. But now I’ve lost faith.”

In December 2011, while still fighting for his disability benefits, Winters died at age 92.

Family Continues to Fight on Winters’ Behalf

Regina Winters, 75, met Arthur in 1980 in Albuquerque and they were married in 1981. Regina, who’s 20 years younger than Arthur and calls him "the love of my life," had to quit her job and provide 24-hour care for him from 1985 up until his death. 

She continues to fight the VA on behalf of herself and her late husband, whose family and friends called Lincoln. 

Regina and Arthur Winters
“Lincoln spent all those months in German prison camps, and he was Jewish,” she said. “Can you imagine what that experience must have been like? They tortured him. They beat him. He had nightmares about it even when I met him. He had multiple health issues related to his service, but the VA just kept denying him.”

Regina said one time while the war prisoners were being forced to march barefoot in the snow, one of the soldiers collapsed and Lincoln tried to help him.

“The guard immediately hit Lincoln in the back very hard with the butt of his rifle,” she said. “But that was one of the things attracted me to Lincoln. He was strong and brave. He was the kind of person who liked to take charge of things and stick up for others.”

At the time of Winters’ death, Regina said, there were still nine pending claims that had not been settled by the VA.

"The VA threatens, they intimidate, and they just wait for veterans to die,” she said. “They try to discredit the veteran any way they can. We lost our home. We lost everything. I couldn’t work because I needed to take care of him.”

Will this Case Ever Be Resolved?

After seven decades, Winters’ family might finally see a resolution to this seemingly never-ending case. Winters’ attorney, Benjamin Krause, a Gulf War veteran who’s helped many veterans seeking their disability benefits, said the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims (CAVC) notified him a few weeks ago that a judge has decided to send Winters’ back to the VA for re-adjudication.

Krause wouldn’t predict the outcome of this case, but called the court’s decision “a new start. There is new hope."

Regina Winters added that her husband never ever lied to anyone, especially not to the VA.

“Lincoln always told the truth, and he showed proof of everything he said,” she said. “When he would write things to the VA, he always had dates and names and places. Lincoln was a wonderful man. He was understanding and kind, and despite his serious medical problems I enjoyed being with him. He taught me a lot. I will never stop fighting for him.”

VA Would Shoot Him Down

According to Krause, the fact that the Army separated Winters from active duty because of the severity of his wounds in combat and his poor physical and mental condition post-internment should have sent an "obvious message" to the VA that Winters was much worse than ten percent disabled. “He had trouble even raising his right arm, and he was right-hand dominant,” Krause said.

Documents provided by Krause to The Reno Dispatch show that while Winters was in prison, a French doctor and an English doctor performed a makeshift surgery on Winters in primitive conditions, which caused an aneurysm.

The VA has conceded that records have gone missing in this case, but the agency adjudicated the claims anyway, according to Krause, who added that each step of the way, whenever a new service-related health issue would come up, “Mr. Winters would qualify and apply but VA would shoot him down.” 

While the VA also admitted performing the two unnecessary and back-to-back operations on Winters in 1971 at the VA hospital in Albuquerque, the agency denied that it caused permanent damage to Winters. Multiple doctors say it did.

A “Clear and Unmistakable Error”

In 2009, Winters sent the VA office in Albuquerque proof that he was entitled to benefits based on a “clear and unmistakable error.” He included a document from the War Department dated March 23, 1943 that states he was wounded in action. 

Winters also included his Purple Heart certificate for wounds received in action, a statement from a family stating two wounds Winters suffered in action on that same date, and a statement from a so-called Protocol Exam from the Albuquerque veterans hospital stating operation of the aneurysm on his right arm, which was done in a POW hospital in Italy in 1943. The statement also noted his feet were frozen from being a POW.

Still, the VA would not budge.

“VA’s basic position was that it had handled all of the Winters’ claims and that nothing was left pending before the court,” Krause said. “This is, of course, a patently false statement.”

Krause said there are also questions about the Army's post-POW nutrition regimen at Camp Lucky Strike where “they practically force fed the POWs eggnog so the families would recognize them after the war. Did rapid calorie intake induce malnutrition complications later that VA fought to deny?”

Krause said VA also concluded without evidence that Winters had a personality disorder instead of psychosis after the war, “as if more than two years in captivity as a POW had no effect.”

Krause shared documents with The Reno Dispatch showing that in 1972, VA conceded missing records but adjudicated with missing evidence anyway, and that in 1973, Winters identified what records were still missing but the agency disregarded his statement in support of claim for missing records.

In 2009, Winters presented the missing records that were certified from the Red Cross and translated for his formal claim. The error was proven in 2009 and VA conceded the error in 2013, according to documents provided by Krause, who said VA failed to consider documented POW evidence that proves Winters’ claims going back to 1945.

“VA ignored Winters’ evidence that he provided in 2009,” Krause said, adding that VA refused to admit it violated Winters’ due process rights and was called out by a Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims (CAVC) judge.

In 1964, VA finally published its previously secret “1945 Schedule” for rating disabilities. The rating schedule was misapplied in Winters’ case, as he was not awarded disability for his aneurysm that resulted from the gunshot wound, said Krause, who added that the VA would "bury evidence and then deny" at the Board of Veterans Appeals with regularity before veterans were allowed court review.

“VA ignored evidence that should have been in its possession for decades,” Krause charged. “It repeatedly claimed it needed more evidence, and all the while it could have granted the claims with the evidence it already had."

Did VA Shred Winters’ Documents Over the Years?

Krause said countless documents have gone missing in this case over the last 70 years, and it would not surprise him if VA shredded evidence. A recent investigation by VA’s Inspector General (OIG) concluded that the VA has been systematically shredding documents related to veterans' claims.

Investigators audited 10 veterans benefits offices around the country and found that staff were destroying mail related to claims, according to a report by Military.com, which cited an OIG report.

Investigators reportedly arrived unannounced at VA regional offices and sifted through 438,000 documents awaiting destruction. Of 155 claims-related documents, 69 were found to have been incorrectly placed in shred bins at VA offices in Atlanta, Chicago, Houston, New Orleans, Philadelphia and Reno, Nev.

No Help from 2016 Presidential Candidates

While Regina Winters has reached out these past few months to both of the presidential frontrunners, Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, neither has responded to her.

But public officials from Sen. John McCain and Sen. Chuck Schumer to former Congressman and New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson have attempted to help the Winters family.

McCain tried to convince VA to help Winters for 15 years, to no avail. In 2005, Richardson wrote on Winters’ behalf to Teri Beer, a supervisor at the VA’s Appeals Management Resource center in Cleveland.

Richardson told Beer that Winters "continues his 50-year appeal of the VA's failure to award him 100 percent disability benefits since 1945 and to compensate his wife for the 24-hour care she provides him… Additionally, there is some question regarding negligence on the part of a surgeon who operated on Mr. Winters in a VA hospital. The negligence was admitted, but Mr. Winters has been denied compensation for the ongoing problems resulting from the incident… I ask that you give Mr. Arthur L. Winters every consideration under the law.”

Is VA Inherently Adversarial to and Distrusting of Veterans?

Regina Winters said she was unable to enjoy the latter years of her marriage because she was busy providing 24-hour care to her husband without assistance.

“The Winters were in poverty and eventually lost their home,” Krause said. “The loss of income from her late husband resulted in credit card collectors hounding her for payments she no longer has. If VA paid the money it owes her, she would no longer be scraping by.”

Krause believes the VA owes the Winters family approximately $1.4 million for disability pay dating back to 1945. “I would be curious to know when the VA plans to write the check,” he said.

Krause said this case crystallizes the frustration so many American veterans and their families feel when dealing with the VA.

“This case could be called the ultimate example of how badly our troops are sometimes treated after they come home,” Krause said, “and how the agency too often takes on an adversarial role rafter than a  supportive role from the moment the veteran leaves active duty. We are hoping that VA honors the sacrifice Arthur Winters has paid after two years as a POW and so many years fighting for justice.”

When reached for comment on Winters’ case, a spokesperson for the Veterans Benefits Association, the healthcare wing of the VA, stated the following:

"Mr. Winters was originally service connected at the 10 percent evaluation for his gunshot wound based on the evidence of record and the fact that this was the only issue he claimed at the time. However, throughout his lifetime, Mr. Winters claimed additional issues and was ultimately service connected with an evaluation of 100 percent,"

But Krause said the VA is not telling the truth about what Winters initially told the agency.

“It's clear that Mr. Winters was diagnosed by a VA doctor with residuals of a gunshot wound that included scarring, numbness of the right hand, diastolic problems in his right arm, and aneurysm secondary to gunshot wound," Krause said. "VA had a duty to rate him for those conditions but only rated him for the gunshot wound scar.”

Further, Krause said Winters also told the VA doctor about his two years as a prisoner of war, the surgery performed on him while he was a prisoner, the fact that he was in a POW hospital for several months, and his other health problems. 

Krause pointed to documents showing that the original VA adjudicator erred in not rating Winters’ aneurysm and other conditions secondary to the gunshot wound. “It is clearly written in the medical evaluation in 1948,” Krause said. “His 1967 evaluation and POW evaluation in the 1980’s discuss his other conditions VA tried to evade.”

Krause said Winters' written statement in 1945 does not mean that the veteran only sought a disability rating for the gunshot wound scar, as VA asserts. 

"One thing to remember is that the POW records we now have may have been classified back in 1945," Krause said. "VA had a duty to seek out all records related to his captivity but failed to do so."

Krause wonders why the Army in 1945 considered Winters unfit for duty when he was only ten percent disabled. 

"Most can stay in the military until 30 percent disability," he said. "The VA said Mr. Winters had a scar, but the Army said they could not keep him, despite his honorable discharge and just ten percent disability rating. A scar kept him out of the Army?"

Krause said Winters' initial rating in 1947 clearly should have been 80 percent. "Mr. Winters was lowballed from the beginning," he said, "and the VA continues to cling to this lie nearly 70 years later."