Well, I seem to have nothing to say lately, so perhaps I'll default to one of my favorite topics, namely double entendre sexual humor. I probably have an album's worth of songs based on that, and my mind continues to amuse itself in that direction. Take dance class for example. I'm in Dana's class three mornings a week, so I'm quite familiar with her style and expressions and way of teaching. She says the same things quite often, and me, being who I am, use her comments as material for my inner dialog.
She'll say, 'suck it in' referring to our stomachs during certain of the stretches, and when she does, I'll often say 'It's just a figure of speech' to my gay buddy who works out along side me. And if I don't say it, I'll certainly think it. 'It's just a figure of speech'
And she'll say, 'grab your ankles' when we're doing a different stretch, and my thought is, 'How come every time I say that, I get in trouble?' I think this every single time she says it, once per class... my little motif that brings an inner smile...
And finally, last week she said, 'I want a nice tight passe' (referring to the leg position on a particular turn), and my thought was, 'So do I'. When she said it, I looked around the room to see if there was anyone I could share a laugh with, but nope, I had to keep it to myself... but I've been laughing about it for a week now. 'I want a nice tight passe indeed'
It's been really slow on the work front this week, but I look ahead to see a summer's worth of gigs, so I'm not too concerned about the lack of income. About the lack of inspiration, maybe a little concern, but not too much. I guess I'm resigned to the fact that this is who I am, a guy with not a tremendous amount of drive, but someone who is smart, amusing, clever, kind and thoughtful. I don't have to be a world beater, a visionary, a famous person. I don't have to be a gardener, a family man, a member of the church. I don't have to be a success, a stalwart a saint.
But I do have to be kind. I do have to be nice to kids and old people. I do have to listen and lend a hand. Apparently I have to express myself. Apparently I need to be honest as much as possible. Is that true? Probably not exactly, but I definitely value honesty above most things. It's very hard to be totally honest in a world of feeling people, so even though I'm not honest 100 percent of the time, I try to get close to that...
I've gotten some weird phone calls from Thailand lately. Seems like M is having a tough time and there is a fair amount of negativity coming across, like she's pissed off at me for something. I gather that she's not feeling well, her money situation is lousy etc. The way I look at it is that I'm planning on going back there this winter, with no expectations that she'll be available. It's so far away and the time is such that there is no way to count on anything along the lines of 'she's waiting for me'. Because even if she was... would I be waiting for her?' Let's be real. It was a great connection last year, but not without problems, and between the late nights and the smoking and drinking, I don't see a lot of future in that arrangement. It's not what I'm looking for...
I'm aware that in this post, there is a lot of 'not this, not that' as opposed to yes this, yes that. I guess it's much easier for me to understand what I don't want, rather than what I do want. Much safer too, probably. But for now, I feel fairly content in just living, breathing, dancing, playing music and staying active. It's as though I'm on vacation from a lifetime of self recrimination, and even though it's less than inspirational, maybe that's OK too. Besides, chapters don't last forever and things change. And for the past month or so, I've been OK with 'less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy'. Yeah, I accept that, I do indeed, even though it's hard to believe that the self-recrimination won't rear it's ugly head. It's as though the self-loathing is the true state, and this little window of contentment without accomplishment is some kind of mirage. But I think I deserve it somehow, having paid a high price over the years... at least that's the feedback I've gotten from people who know. I did go to that 'Self compassion' lecture last week, and even though I found the speaker to be less than inspiring.... too many 'ums' and sentences beginning with the word 'so', I do believe in her message that we're often more compassionate to others than we are to ourselves. Um, so, er, I guess I can continue to be compassionate right here at home... That's the theory anyhow, and I have some gratitude for the vacation...
Wednesday is often my favorite day of the week
10:25am on a Thursday morning, just back from a challenging dance class and here we go. I have no work today, which is fine, as it's been a productive and enjoyable week with a number of fun gigs, so it feels fine to have a day to dance, write, do yoga and then go to the 'Self Compassion' talk at the library this evening. The announcement for it really caught my eye, though I'm often initially skeptical of 'self-improvement' type lectures. But this one felt different, and I'm going to check it out.
What felt different was reading the blurb about how we are trained to feel 'special' and how our self esteem is often wrapped up in our accomplishments... which can often lead to a roller coaster of highs and lows. I'm paraphrasing here, but that's what I remember from the announcement. That idea of our 'specialness' being a trigger for unhappiness definitely rang a bell with me, as I notice the same phenomenon in my life. So I will bestir myself to get down there for the free lecture with a professor Kristin Neff from U of Texas, and I'll find out what her research has shown her. It feels like a significant thing, and I'm open to learning about it.
But in the meantime, I'd like to write about some of the cool things that happened musically yesterday, starting with the Eugene Parent Child Preschool, where I've been music specialist for about 6 years. I was working with the 4's class who are about to graduate and I brought in some 'new material' for them, though the songs are ancient. One was 'High Hopes' which they liked a lot, and the other was 'Sipping Cider Through a Straw' which is a good one for echoing and general musicianship. Both went well, and then Otto said something about 'I know how to break dance'. I asked if he would show us and I played a little funky thing on the guitar and asked everyone to clap along while he danced. He was a little shy about it, though willing, and it was pretty cool. Then I had all the boys (who wanted to) try it and it was great. They were getting down, smiling, using their bodies in new ways, totally going for it.
Then it was the girls turn, and only two of them wanted to try it (which is totally cool with me). People should have the choice to try it or not. These two did a little duet, and not surprisingly, they were very tuned into one another, copying each others moves, rather than just 'doing their own thing'. I complimented them on that and taught that it's good to see what others are doing while you dance and sometimes you can join in with their ideas. Each group got to try it again and the dancing got more uninhibited and beautiful. More girls joined in the second time around, and now that I think about it, it would have been good to break the kids into two groups, but not based on gender. That's an easy choice, but not necessary. OK, next time... We're gonna revisit that one again.
In the evening, I had a first time gig at an 'Independent Living Center' with a group of seniors. I got there early, checked the piano and the room, started flirting with the old timers prior to the show. One lady said, 'Do you see her? She's 103 years old'. I should have resisted the temptation, but instead I blurted out, 'You don't look a day over 102' (I don't think she thought it was as funny as I did, but oh well, you win some you lose some. This was still 'pre-show' and I asked if any of them get to dance. One said, 'you can't dance with a walker'. And I said 'sure you can' and I grabbed a walker and did a couple of spins. The 103 year old said, 'don't make fun of us' and I said, no way, I'm not making fun at all. I told her about my friend Alito Alessi, who travels the world leading workshops on 'Dance-ability' in which every person, regardless of their mobility level gets to dance.
I started to play my set, and they were just a little bit subdued, a few singing along, some polite applause, but no juice. I did my best to liven it up, but the way they were arranged wasn't really conducive to building the energy. They were spread out a little too much, some over here, some over there, some in the back etc. After about 15 minutes, I had a brainstorm to go grab the percussion instruments out of my trunk and pass them out, just to increase the participation level. I said, 'hang on, I'll be back in 60 seconds' and I returned with my gear. At first people were reluctant to take something, 'no thanks, I'll just listen' (when the activities director tried to pass out a few instruments. I wasn't having that, so I started pulling instruments out, giving this guy a maraca, this one a tambourine, this one a guiro etc, until everyone had something. There was one 100 year old guy who didn't really respond when I approached him, until the person sitting next to him told me that he was blind. I gave him a tambourine and a stick and off we went.
I gave them the usual instruction. "When I say the number 4, everybody STOP" We played 'Dayo' We played 'Macnamara's Band', 'Hey Good Lookin' and people were into it. One old dude was digging the guiro, another lady was playing some good tambourine, while taking in oxygen through her nose. The 103 year old knew a ton of songs and made some suggestions, which I asked the activities director to jot down so I could learn them for next time. The hour went by quickly and they enjoyed it a lot. One of the best songs for the senior set is 'Always' by Irving Berlin. 'I'll be loving you always, with a love that's true, always...' I tell them, 'all you have to sing is one word and the word is 'always'. It gives them a place to come in, and it always works well. Nice tune, and Berlin was quite the master song writer.
After the gig, I went by Quackers for the weekly blues jam, and it was one of the best ever. My friend Rob laughs because I often say it was the 'best ever', but then again, I only tend to write about it when it's a great night over there. Last night there were tons of great players who showed up and we ended up going 45 minutes longer than normal. I played for about an hour or so until I got relieved by TR Kelley (female) who never shows up there. She's a great player. Chris Ward is a smoking guitarist who rarely shows up and I got to groove with him, and Skip and Josh and Darcy Lee on vocals, and some drummer I didn't know who was just fine. Like I say, there's nothing quite like grooving along with excellent musicians, locking in as a bass player, adding subtle and not so subtle changes to the music. In a way it's like steering the boat because the bass is a fulcrum between the rhythm and the harmony, so it's a great place to be when things are cooking, and damn, it was cooking last night.
And I got to dance with my friends beforehand, super fun improvisation, we've been doing it for a long time now and it's just a blast to have that freedom on the dance floor. Wow, gratitude and good exercise both. Que mas quieres? (now I need a rest....)
What felt different was reading the blurb about how we are trained to feel 'special' and how our self esteem is often wrapped up in our accomplishments... which can often lead to a roller coaster of highs and lows. I'm paraphrasing here, but that's what I remember from the announcement. That idea of our 'specialness' being a trigger for unhappiness definitely rang a bell with me, as I notice the same phenomenon in my life. So I will bestir myself to get down there for the free lecture with a professor Kristin Neff from U of Texas, and I'll find out what her research has shown her. It feels like a significant thing, and I'm open to learning about it.
But in the meantime, I'd like to write about some of the cool things that happened musically yesterday, starting with the Eugene Parent Child Preschool, where I've been music specialist for about 6 years. I was working with the 4's class who are about to graduate and I brought in some 'new material' for them, though the songs are ancient. One was 'High Hopes' which they liked a lot, and the other was 'Sipping Cider Through a Straw' which is a good one for echoing and general musicianship. Both went well, and then Otto said something about 'I know how to break dance'. I asked if he would show us and I played a little funky thing on the guitar and asked everyone to clap along while he danced. He was a little shy about it, though willing, and it was pretty cool. Then I had all the boys (who wanted to) try it and it was great. They were getting down, smiling, using their bodies in new ways, totally going for it.
Then it was the girls turn, and only two of them wanted to try it (which is totally cool with me). People should have the choice to try it or not. These two did a little duet, and not surprisingly, they were very tuned into one another, copying each others moves, rather than just 'doing their own thing'. I complimented them on that and taught that it's good to see what others are doing while you dance and sometimes you can join in with their ideas. Each group got to try it again and the dancing got more uninhibited and beautiful. More girls joined in the second time around, and now that I think about it, it would have been good to break the kids into two groups, but not based on gender. That's an easy choice, but not necessary. OK, next time... We're gonna revisit that one again.
In the evening, I had a first time gig at an 'Independent Living Center' with a group of seniors. I got there early, checked the piano and the room, started flirting with the old timers prior to the show. One lady said, 'Do you see her? She's 103 years old'. I should have resisted the temptation, but instead I blurted out, 'You don't look a day over 102' (I don't think she thought it was as funny as I did, but oh well, you win some you lose some. This was still 'pre-show' and I asked if any of them get to dance. One said, 'you can't dance with a walker'. And I said 'sure you can' and I grabbed a walker and did a couple of spins. The 103 year old said, 'don't make fun of us' and I said, no way, I'm not making fun at all. I told her about my friend Alito Alessi, who travels the world leading workshops on 'Dance-ability' in which every person, regardless of their mobility level gets to dance.
I started to play my set, and they were just a little bit subdued, a few singing along, some polite applause, but no juice. I did my best to liven it up, but the way they were arranged wasn't really conducive to building the energy. They were spread out a little too much, some over here, some over there, some in the back etc. After about 15 minutes, I had a brainstorm to go grab the percussion instruments out of my trunk and pass them out, just to increase the participation level. I said, 'hang on, I'll be back in 60 seconds' and I returned with my gear. At first people were reluctant to take something, 'no thanks, I'll just listen' (when the activities director tried to pass out a few instruments. I wasn't having that, so I started pulling instruments out, giving this guy a maraca, this one a tambourine, this one a guiro etc, until everyone had something. There was one 100 year old guy who didn't really respond when I approached him, until the person sitting next to him told me that he was blind. I gave him a tambourine and a stick and off we went.
I gave them the usual instruction. "When I say the number 4, everybody STOP" We played 'Dayo' We played 'Macnamara's Band', 'Hey Good Lookin' and people were into it. One old dude was digging the guiro, another lady was playing some good tambourine, while taking in oxygen through her nose. The 103 year old knew a ton of songs and made some suggestions, which I asked the activities director to jot down so I could learn them for next time. The hour went by quickly and they enjoyed it a lot. One of the best songs for the senior set is 'Always' by Irving Berlin. 'I'll be loving you always, with a love that's true, always...' I tell them, 'all you have to sing is one word and the word is 'always'. It gives them a place to come in, and it always works well. Nice tune, and Berlin was quite the master song writer.
After the gig, I went by Quackers for the weekly blues jam, and it was one of the best ever. My friend Rob laughs because I often say it was the 'best ever', but then again, I only tend to write about it when it's a great night over there. Last night there were tons of great players who showed up and we ended up going 45 minutes longer than normal. I played for about an hour or so until I got relieved by TR Kelley (female) who never shows up there. She's a great player. Chris Ward is a smoking guitarist who rarely shows up and I got to groove with him, and Skip and Josh and Darcy Lee on vocals, and some drummer I didn't know who was just fine. Like I say, there's nothing quite like grooving along with excellent musicians, locking in as a bass player, adding subtle and not so subtle changes to the music. In a way it's like steering the boat because the bass is a fulcrum between the rhythm and the harmony, so it's a great place to be when things are cooking, and damn, it was cooking last night.
And I got to dance with my friends beforehand, super fun improvisation, we've been doing it for a long time now and it's just a blast to have that freedom on the dance floor. Wow, gratitude and good exercise both. Que mas quieres? (now I need a rest....)
Make the party happen...
I can barely see the screen this morning, as I tend to wake up bleary eyed and puffy, body kind of creaky and cranky, as would befit a 57 year old guy, or would it? Don't know the answer to that, but the fact is that it takes me a little while to clear out the cobwebs, loosen up the brain and get the thoughts rolling and the body feeling more normalized. My energy level isn't what it was, and I tend to try and peak at the times when I need to, like dance classes and gigs. And gracias a dios, I can still muster the energy, work the room, dance across the floor, leap and run and get fired up. But this morning at 7am, uh, not so much.
I'm not complaining in the slightest, this is merely reportage and observation. In fact, I've been feeling pretty content, though nothing has truly changed in my circumstances. I could still make the case for self-loathing if I wanted to, but I don't, so I won't. A few little gigs are starting to show up and add themselves to my schedule. Here's an ice cream party at a church in which they are inviting a bunch of local families and a few people recommended me as the guy who could make the music happen. (I don't know these people, but they know me). Here's an end-of-year party at the coolest child care center in town, the one that caters to U of O students and staff. They like me a lot and bring me in for these kinds of things. I did an Earth Day event for them last month. Here's an appearance at the Museum of Natural and Cultural History on campus which is planning a 'family day' later in the season. All the gigs are $150 for an hour or so, and that's a nice rate, and an opportunity to make the party happen.
And it's getting busier on the senior front too, as I'm starting to line up a bunch of regular afternoon gigs (low paying at $50/hour) but fun and worthwhile as I get the chance to serve and to yeah, make the party happen. I guess that's the theme of my life lately, make the party happen. I even used that line in some promo that I created for library shows. One kid came out of a show and declared 'we had a party at the library', as his way of describing a 'music in action' event. I thought that he summed it up pretty well, and I grabbed the line.
Now here's an interesting thought.... what if my purpose in life is to 'make the party happen'? On the surface it sounds puerile and shallow. Come on man, life is serious, you have to 'work' and 'accomplish' and all that stuff. Hang on, I have to look up the word puerile, since I used it just now. Calling senor Google... Puerile is 'childish, silly, immature, trivial'. And I remember an offshoot of that word which is the Jungian concept of Puer aeternus.
"Latin for eternal boy, used in mythology to designate a child-god who is forever young; psychologically it refers to an older man whose emotional life has remained at an adolescent level, usually coupled with too great a dependence on the mother. The puer typically leads a provisional life, due to the fear of being caught in a situation from which it might not be possible to escape. He covets independence and freedom, chafes at boundaries and limits, and tends to find any restriction intolerable"
Uh yeah, kinda... but it's not my intention to delve into Jungian psychology... (too limiting, he said evasively), and in truth, I'd rather try and figure things out myself, rather than defer to a genius (allegedly) like Freud or Jung or Jesus or Einstein or anybody who isn't me. Is that ridiculous? Maybe. I do value the opinions of others and I do like to consider other points of view, but in the final analysis, it's my life and they're not me. I feel like I have the tools and the wherewithal to figure out my life, with help of course, but really, it's up to me to make sense of it all. It's no different from John Lennon's rant in his song 'God' in which he sings:
I don't believe in magic,I don't believe in I-ching,I don't believe in bible,I don't believe in tarot,I don't believe in Hitler,I don't believe in Jesus,I don't believe in Kennedy,I don't believe in Buddha,I don't believe in mantra,I don't believe in Gita,I don't believe in yoga,I don't believe in kings,I don't believe in Elvis,I don't believe in Zimmerman,I don't believe in Beatles, I just believe in me... Yoko and me and that's reality...
I always LOVED that chain of independence, even and especially the part where he says, 'I don't believe in Beatles'. It's as if he is saying, that was then, this is now, that has no bearing on this now. Life goes on, each moment has the potential for amazingness, regardless of what came before. It's an incantation to the 'now'. Wow..
And if my present reality is to 'make people happy', 'make the party happen', I could think of worse things in life. There's definitely a part of me that questions the 'validity' of that as a 'career choice', but on the other hand, there is something genuinely good about bringing smiles to people's faces, lifting hearts and letting music flow through the room. I'm thinking of a woman yesterday who was clearly in a state of serious dementia. I could tell that she wanted to sing along, but the words weren't there. I could see it in her eyes that she was 'with me' and singing as well as she could. She was in the music. It feels good to have that communication, that pure love and joy, regardless of whether the words are there. It's beyond words after all. It's just love.
I'm not complaining in the slightest, this is merely reportage and observation. In fact, I've been feeling pretty content, though nothing has truly changed in my circumstances. I could still make the case for self-loathing if I wanted to, but I don't, so I won't. A few little gigs are starting to show up and add themselves to my schedule. Here's an ice cream party at a church in which they are inviting a bunch of local families and a few people recommended me as the guy who could make the music happen. (I don't know these people, but they know me). Here's an end-of-year party at the coolest child care center in town, the one that caters to U of O students and staff. They like me a lot and bring me in for these kinds of things. I did an Earth Day event for them last month. Here's an appearance at the Museum of Natural and Cultural History on campus which is planning a 'family day' later in the season. All the gigs are $150 for an hour or so, and that's a nice rate, and an opportunity to make the party happen.
And it's getting busier on the senior front too, as I'm starting to line up a bunch of regular afternoon gigs (low paying at $50/hour) but fun and worthwhile as I get the chance to serve and to yeah, make the party happen. I guess that's the theme of my life lately, make the party happen. I even used that line in some promo that I created for library shows. One kid came out of a show and declared 'we had a party at the library', as his way of describing a 'music in action' event. I thought that he summed it up pretty well, and I grabbed the line.
Now here's an interesting thought.... what if my purpose in life is to 'make the party happen'? On the surface it sounds puerile and shallow. Come on man, life is serious, you have to 'work' and 'accomplish' and all that stuff. Hang on, I have to look up the word puerile, since I used it just now. Calling senor Google... Puerile is 'childish, silly, immature, trivial'. And I remember an offshoot of that word which is the Jungian concept of Puer aeternus.
"Latin for eternal boy, used in mythology to designate a child-god who is forever young; psychologically it refers to an older man whose emotional life has remained at an adolescent level, usually coupled with too great a dependence on the mother. The puer typically leads a provisional life, due to the fear of being caught in a situation from which it might not be possible to escape. He covets independence and freedom, chafes at boundaries and limits, and tends to find any restriction intolerable"
Uh yeah, kinda... but it's not my intention to delve into Jungian psychology... (too limiting, he said evasively), and in truth, I'd rather try and figure things out myself, rather than defer to a genius (allegedly) like Freud or Jung or Jesus or Einstein or anybody who isn't me. Is that ridiculous? Maybe. I do value the opinions of others and I do like to consider other points of view, but in the final analysis, it's my life and they're not me. I feel like I have the tools and the wherewithal to figure out my life, with help of course, but really, it's up to me to make sense of it all. It's no different from John Lennon's rant in his song 'God' in which he sings:
I don't believe in magic,I don't believe in I-ching,I don't believe in bible,I don't believe in tarot,I don't believe in Hitler,I don't believe in Jesus,I don't believe in Kennedy,I don't believe in Buddha,I don't believe in mantra,I don't believe in Gita,I don't believe in yoga,I don't believe in kings,I don't believe in Elvis,I don't believe in Zimmerman,I don't believe in Beatles, I just believe in me... Yoko and me and that's reality...
I always LOVED that chain of independence, even and especially the part where he says, 'I don't believe in Beatles'. It's as if he is saying, that was then, this is now, that has no bearing on this now. Life goes on, each moment has the potential for amazingness, regardless of what came before. It's an incantation to the 'now'. Wow..
And if my present reality is to 'make people happy', 'make the party happen', I could think of worse things in life. There's definitely a part of me that questions the 'validity' of that as a 'career choice', but on the other hand, there is something genuinely good about bringing smiles to people's faces, lifting hearts and letting music flow through the room. I'm thinking of a woman yesterday who was clearly in a state of serious dementia. I could tell that she wanted to sing along, but the words weren't there. I could see it in her eyes that she was 'with me' and singing as well as she could. She was in the music. It feels good to have that communication, that pure love and joy, regardless of whether the words are there. It's beyond words after all. It's just love.
Every Day is a Winding Road
I titled this post 'Every Day is a Winding Road', not because I necessarily believe that, but because it's the hook from a good Sheryl Crow song, and yes, I continued my streak of malfeasance by finding a way to sneak into her show last night at the Hult Center. I had just completed a little free gig at the Slug Queen's Ball where I played some piano as people were coming in. I also did a little cameo with the Radar Angels, singing Boom Boom as part of their set. And then I was done by 8:15, so I packed up and figured, 'why not' let's see if I can find a way into Sheryl Crow's set down the street.
I showed up about 45 minutes after the show began and it was pretty quiet in the lobby, security fairly lax and the door part way open so I could hear the music coming from the stage. I made small talk for a few minutes, then saw a dance class friend of mine, Nancy, who sometimes ushers at the venue. She was just coming back from a bathroom break, so I slid into the venue with her and just like that, I was in. (smile). The funny part is that I never used to do stuff like that back in the day, but now it feels kinda right. Not that I'm entitled, but not that I'm not entitled either. (try to parse that double negativity...)
She is a GREAT singer, GREAT songwriter, kinda reminds me of a female Tom Petty in her ability to come up with memorable hooks and solid mid-tempo rock tunes. But there was something missing from her set, and being the avid listener that I am, I paid solid attention to what I was seeing and hearing to try and find the missing ingredient. And what was missing for me was my body. The music just didn't make me want to get up and move. And why not? me who loves to dance....
I thought the band was too cool, (not in the good way). They didn't show any joy or excitement or passion for what they were doing. They hardly moved at all, as if they would be fined for shaking their ass or something. It was kind of like a postcard, everything quite still, good sound but no THUMP. And the drummer, while he showed some enthusiasm, I found him way to laid back and 'white'. There is a quality that drummers have which can either push the tempo forward or keep the reins on and hold it back, and this guy was the latter. There's nothing 'wrong' with it, but by playing slightly behind the beat, the message is 'don't move your body' this is for listening. Which kinda clashes with some of her lyrics about we're gonna dance blah blah blah, yet the music was holding that back.
I'm sure that Sheryl Crow is terribly interested in my opinion of her band (not), but I know that what I experienced was true. The thing was very controlled and joyless, in spite of the solid songs and professional sound. They need to loosen up and have some fun, because that is what translates best to the audience. It finally got loose in the encore when she went to the piano and played a gorgeous gospel-inspired song called 'I shall believe'. It was a 3/4 soulful 'testifying' song, and she hit it out of the park. What a singer, holy crap! And when the band kicked in, finally the bass player starts swaying and moving, the lead player rips out a great solo and the magic happens. They got moved, we got moved, ya gotta move!
Afterward I went back to the Slug Queen Ball and danced to some great R and B from the Essentials who were headlining that event. (too bad it was so poorly attended, but it was the luck of the draw to be going up against the best night of the year in Eugene music. Sheryl Crow at the Hult, Lauryn Hill outdoors at the Cuthbert, Curtis Salgado in Springfield, three great shows on the same night). So there was lots of room on the dance floor and it was good to shake it a little. Ended the night by stopping off at the Vets Club to support some of my friends from the Blues Jam who had a set there. I wanted to show my face, let them know I came down to pay a little cash and show support. They appreciated it, and it feels good to do. Called it a night, came home, slept a little, not enough but there's a nap in my future.
But in my immediate future is a dance class and a little kids gig later in the morning. After that? zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
I showed up about 45 minutes after the show began and it was pretty quiet in the lobby, security fairly lax and the door part way open so I could hear the music coming from the stage. I made small talk for a few minutes, then saw a dance class friend of mine, Nancy, who sometimes ushers at the venue. She was just coming back from a bathroom break, so I slid into the venue with her and just like that, I was in. (smile). The funny part is that I never used to do stuff like that back in the day, but now it feels kinda right. Not that I'm entitled, but not that I'm not entitled either. (try to parse that double negativity...)
She is a GREAT singer, GREAT songwriter, kinda reminds me of a female Tom Petty in her ability to come up with memorable hooks and solid mid-tempo rock tunes. But there was something missing from her set, and being the avid listener that I am, I paid solid attention to what I was seeing and hearing to try and find the missing ingredient. And what was missing for me was my body. The music just didn't make me want to get up and move. And why not? me who loves to dance....
I thought the band was too cool, (not in the good way). They didn't show any joy or excitement or passion for what they were doing. They hardly moved at all, as if they would be fined for shaking their ass or something. It was kind of like a postcard, everything quite still, good sound but no THUMP. And the drummer, while he showed some enthusiasm, I found him way to laid back and 'white'. There is a quality that drummers have which can either push the tempo forward or keep the reins on and hold it back, and this guy was the latter. There's nothing 'wrong' with it, but by playing slightly behind the beat, the message is 'don't move your body' this is for listening. Which kinda clashes with some of her lyrics about we're gonna dance blah blah blah, yet the music was holding that back.
I'm sure that Sheryl Crow is terribly interested in my opinion of her band (not), but I know that what I experienced was true. The thing was very controlled and joyless, in spite of the solid songs and professional sound. They need to loosen up and have some fun, because that is what translates best to the audience. It finally got loose in the encore when she went to the piano and played a gorgeous gospel-inspired song called 'I shall believe'. It was a 3/4 soulful 'testifying' song, and she hit it out of the park. What a singer, holy crap! And when the band kicked in, finally the bass player starts swaying and moving, the lead player rips out a great solo and the magic happens. They got moved, we got moved, ya gotta move!
Afterward I went back to the Slug Queen Ball and danced to some great R and B from the Essentials who were headlining that event. (too bad it was so poorly attended, but it was the luck of the draw to be going up against the best night of the year in Eugene music. Sheryl Crow at the Hult, Lauryn Hill outdoors at the Cuthbert, Curtis Salgado in Springfield, three great shows on the same night). So there was lots of room on the dance floor and it was good to shake it a little. Ended the night by stopping off at the Vets Club to support some of my friends from the Blues Jam who had a set there. I wanted to show my face, let them know I came down to pay a little cash and show support. They appreciated it, and it feels good to do. Called it a night, came home, slept a little, not enough but there's a nap in my future.
But in my immediate future is a dance class and a little kids gig later in the morning. After that? zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Frustrate, Fear state, Fierce trait, For us to Rate
Cleverness aside (yeah, right!, he thought dismissively) I have the urge to explore the notion of frustration, because I have the sense that is is a MAJOR component of my make up, not that I walk around in a state of frustration, because I don't. But it is the fear of frustration that seriously limits my choices as to where to apply myself. Perhaps if I can shed some light on 'what frustration means to me' I might find a way to dis-empower what has certainly been a big influence and a big limiter on my life. And as an initial question, I might ask myself 'what would happen if instead of trying to avoid frustration, I embraced it as a teacher and guide?'
I'm gonna hold that thought in the back of my mind with the likelihood of revisiting it at the end of this essay. Because I think I know where it's going to go, or at least where I want it to go. And since I'm the writer, editor, creative consultant and scribe, I get to make that call. Although I just had a sinking sense that by writing that previous sentence, I have set myself up for a 'man proposes, God disposes' surprise. But that's just part of my Jewish training, the kind of thing where back in the shtetl, someone would make a bold statement and then follow it up with a 'Kaynahora' asking to be spared from the malevolent forces. (definition below)
The Yiddishism “kaynahora” is roughly similar to “knock on wood” and is often spoken to ward off a jinx after praise or good news. "So this weekend when I basked in the glow of children taking school seriously and being organized, I should have said “kaynahora” afterwards. Then, perhaps the first pop quiz wouldn’t have gone poorly and the textbook wouldn’t already be lost. Oy!"
But I digress Jewishly... OK let's reverse the digression with a 'Kadima!' Which means 'forward' in Hebrew. Like 'Avanti' in Italian, 'Vamos' en Espanol. Hey I'm an expert at digression. How bout a guy who can digress by wasting time on the word for 'Let's go'. That is some graduate level digression, I must admit (Kaynahora) Oy! (first laugh of the day, and I'll take it, thanks)
Perhaps I don't want to explore the 'frustration equation'? Oh but I do indeed, so here goes. I remember myself at 11 or 12 years old trying to play classical piano, laboring over the notes, it was always super challenging for me because it took so long and I just couldn't fucking do it. (he said with some frustration). Many a time I would bang my hands down on the keys as I would give up or at the very least, express a noisy, discordant anger at my inability to get it. I do believe that my brain is wired in a way that makes it really hard to decipher complex visual stuff like piano music. That fact, coupled with a short fuse, was a recipe for some seriously percussive 'tone clusters' on the poor, innocent upright piano. I was downright hard on the upright.
Another example from further in the past. I was in first grade, 6 years old and in the 'advanced reading group'. Miss Gold was going through the workbook and showing us what we had to do, draw lines to the correct word in this exercise, fill in the blank in this exercise, that sort of thing. She was showing us about 8 pages of assignments, and I mistakenly thought that we were supposed to be doing it while she was explaining it. So I'm feverishly trying to do it as fast as I can, and she's turning the page and I'm not ready and I'm working as fast as I can. I start to cry because I can't keep up. Something about that memory really sticks, even as I write about it 50 years later. It's not exactly 'frustration' but it seems related somehow. That sense of not being able to do something and then falling apart as a response.
That feeling of dismay rears up in lots of areas of my life. If I can't get the dance combination as fast as I think I should, it pisses me off. I want to curse and fucking rip the shirt right off my back, yeah I do, when I get that way. It's all apparently based on some self-perception that I have in which I'm 'talented' and I 'pick things up fast', and when things don't conform to that belief, I tend to have an out-sized reaction to my 'failure'. And I try to avoid that feeling, not trying stuff that I won't be able to do well, and surely missing out on a lot. I'm thinking about the Casino Rueda (Cuban dance classes) that I was attending prior to my trip to Thailand. It was a fun way to spend Sunday evenings, a little difficulty in keeping up, but I was getting the hang of it. But when I got back to town I didn't want to deal with the 'frustration' of not being able to do it. I felt kind of fragile in my life and didn't want to add more stress at that time. So I'm missing out on that these days.
I feel like I'm really missing out when it comes to technology because there are things I could be doing that would help my career and my ability to make and share music, reach a wider audience etc, I guess I have this sense that 'I want someone else to take care of it' and since that someone else (daddy?, mommy?) hasn't really shown up, perhaps it's time for me to be the 'someone else'. Maybe it's time to 'get over myself' find a new way to approach life that's different from trying to avoid all feelings of frustration. Yes it's true, I'm frustrated at my tendency toward frustration (the dreaded 'double fuck'), but I'm willing and maybe even ready to take it on. Maybe it's something like homeopathy where I need to get that irritant into the system so as to find a way to live with it, rather than reject it. If I were to follow this line of thought, then it would be good to willfully seek out situations that carry potential frustration and let it in. 'Let it come and let it go' (from the Thailand days)
So rather than live in fear of frustration, I'm thinking that it's time to embrace frustration and then get on to the next thing. It's not going to kill me, and I believe that it will only help me grow. The world could become a more inviting place if I were open to situations in which I might not be 'talented' or a quick study or even good. That stuff is very limiting and I believe that it has run its course. Or at least I'm fucking sick of it as a map. I see that there is a talk next week by a visiting professor from U of Texas who wrote a book about self-compassion, and it sounded like it was aimed at me, right down to the part about how feeling 'special' might not be a great way to go. I put it on the calendar and I'm going to attend, sounds interesting and timely... Ready to change...
Which interestingly is part of my '5 principles' that guide me in music and life. The fifth one is 'dynamics' and the willingness to change. Time to invest some time and energy into my own philosophy. Am I willing to change? yes...
I'm gonna hold that thought in the back of my mind with the likelihood of revisiting it at the end of this essay. Because I think I know where it's going to go, or at least where I want it to go. And since I'm the writer, editor, creative consultant and scribe, I get to make that call. Although I just had a sinking sense that by writing that previous sentence, I have set myself up for a 'man proposes, God disposes' surprise. But that's just part of my Jewish training, the kind of thing where back in the shtetl, someone would make a bold statement and then follow it up with a 'Kaynahora' asking to be spared from the malevolent forces. (definition below)
The Yiddishism “kaynahora” is roughly similar to “knock on wood” and is often spoken to ward off a jinx after praise or good news. "So this weekend when I basked in the glow of children taking school seriously and being organized, I should have said “kaynahora” afterwards. Then, perhaps the first pop quiz wouldn’t have gone poorly and the textbook wouldn’t already be lost. Oy!"
But I digress Jewishly... OK let's reverse the digression with a 'Kadima!' Which means 'forward' in Hebrew. Like 'Avanti' in Italian, 'Vamos' en Espanol. Hey I'm an expert at digression. How bout a guy who can digress by wasting time on the word for 'Let's go'. That is some graduate level digression, I must admit (Kaynahora) Oy! (first laugh of the day, and I'll take it, thanks)
Perhaps I don't want to explore the 'frustration equation'? Oh but I do indeed, so here goes. I remember myself at 11 or 12 years old trying to play classical piano, laboring over the notes, it was always super challenging for me because it took so long and I just couldn't fucking do it. (he said with some frustration). Many a time I would bang my hands down on the keys as I would give up or at the very least, express a noisy, discordant anger at my inability to get it. I do believe that my brain is wired in a way that makes it really hard to decipher complex visual stuff like piano music. That fact, coupled with a short fuse, was a recipe for some seriously percussive 'tone clusters' on the poor, innocent upright piano. I was downright hard on the upright.
Another example from further in the past. I was in first grade, 6 years old and in the 'advanced reading group'. Miss Gold was going through the workbook and showing us what we had to do, draw lines to the correct word in this exercise, fill in the blank in this exercise, that sort of thing. She was showing us about 8 pages of assignments, and I mistakenly thought that we were supposed to be doing it while she was explaining it. So I'm feverishly trying to do it as fast as I can, and she's turning the page and I'm not ready and I'm working as fast as I can. I start to cry because I can't keep up. Something about that memory really sticks, even as I write about it 50 years later. It's not exactly 'frustration' but it seems related somehow. That sense of not being able to do something and then falling apart as a response.
That feeling of dismay rears up in lots of areas of my life. If I can't get the dance combination as fast as I think I should, it pisses me off. I want to curse and fucking rip the shirt right off my back, yeah I do, when I get that way. It's all apparently based on some self-perception that I have in which I'm 'talented' and I 'pick things up fast', and when things don't conform to that belief, I tend to have an out-sized reaction to my 'failure'. And I try to avoid that feeling, not trying stuff that I won't be able to do well, and surely missing out on a lot. I'm thinking about the Casino Rueda (Cuban dance classes) that I was attending prior to my trip to Thailand. It was a fun way to spend Sunday evenings, a little difficulty in keeping up, but I was getting the hang of it. But when I got back to town I didn't want to deal with the 'frustration' of not being able to do it. I felt kind of fragile in my life and didn't want to add more stress at that time. So I'm missing out on that these days.
I feel like I'm really missing out when it comes to technology because there are things I could be doing that would help my career and my ability to make and share music, reach a wider audience etc, I guess I have this sense that 'I want someone else to take care of it' and since that someone else (daddy?, mommy?) hasn't really shown up, perhaps it's time for me to be the 'someone else'. Maybe it's time to 'get over myself' find a new way to approach life that's different from trying to avoid all feelings of frustration. Yes it's true, I'm frustrated at my tendency toward frustration (the dreaded 'double fuck'), but I'm willing and maybe even ready to take it on. Maybe it's something like homeopathy where I need to get that irritant into the system so as to find a way to live with it, rather than reject it. If I were to follow this line of thought, then it would be good to willfully seek out situations that carry potential frustration and let it in. 'Let it come and let it go' (from the Thailand days)
So rather than live in fear of frustration, I'm thinking that it's time to embrace frustration and then get on to the next thing. It's not going to kill me, and I believe that it will only help me grow. The world could become a more inviting place if I were open to situations in which I might not be 'talented' or a quick study or even good. That stuff is very limiting and I believe that it has run its course. Or at least I'm fucking sick of it as a map. I see that there is a talk next week by a visiting professor from U of Texas who wrote a book about self-compassion, and it sounded like it was aimed at me, right down to the part about how feeling 'special' might not be a great way to go. I put it on the calendar and I'm going to attend, sounds interesting and timely... Ready to change...
Which interestingly is part of my '5 principles' that guide me in music and life. The fifth one is 'dynamics' and the willingness to change. Time to invest some time and energy into my own philosophy. Am I willing to change? yes...
Sardonica
Woke up feeling depressed today, and my suspicion is that it has to do with the euphoria of writing great songs, followed by the reality of not having the infrastructure and drive to turn them into something other than great songs from someone with 'so much talent'. This leads to the seemingly inevitable self recriminations about 'talent without discipline' leading to nowhere, or the image of the grasshopper starving in the winter while the ant is snug and warm, thanks to his previous efforts and diligence. It's a familiar and disheartening journey, but at the same time, there is some comfort in the familiar, and more than that, I have a willingness to sit at the screen and dig in one more time to try and make sense of it all. This gives me confidence and hope. Ah yes, the eternal battle between 'what's the use' and hopefulness. I could write a book... (but what's the use?) he muttered sardonically. (I've never used the word sardonic before, but I do believe that I have captured its essential nature). Let's ask senor Google before continuing. Sardonic... grimly mocking BINGO! I win?
But I'm mostly self-sardonic, auto-sardonic, though of course it will spill out into a more generalized cynicism of all the hucksters, flimflam artists, insurance companies, politicians, pharmaceutical firms and advertising messages that flood us in a non-stop sea of bullshit here in pre-rapture America circa 2011. A guy could go crazy, and sadly, many do. I don't happen to be one of them, as I'm quite far from crazy, just a bit despondent at the moment. Maybe I should move to Sardinia? Where is that? Somewhere in the Mediterranean like Cypress I believe. Or perhaps Salonica? Did I just make that up? Put them together and you've got Sardonica, my spiritual homeland. 'Pack the bags, Raiza, we're going back home' (He said sardickishly, as the first laughs of the day came out of my mouth)
And there is some kind of object lesson in this act of writing the sadness into laughs and understanding. It's cliche to describe comedians as using humor as a way out of despair and torment, or the blues singer transcending the pain through music. Both ways are tried and true. (trite and true). I do think it's healthy to simply tell the truth about what's going on, there is a certain chemical reaction which seems to take place, an alchemy of consciousness, the thing examining itself and voila, awareness and movement. This is in contrast to the attempt at concealment, self-delusion and escapism which keeps things as they are. Or as Bob Marley said, 'You're running and you're running and you're running away, you're running and you're running and you're running away, you're running and you're running and you're running away but you can't run away from yourself. Can't run away from yourself.
So glad I got to see Marley live and healthy, in the spring of 1976 at a show at the Beacon Theater in NYC. They were touring behind the Rastaman Vibration album, and it was the tour when he went from being an up and coming 'reggae artist' to a world figure who totally transcended his genre and became the superstar of the planet. Within a year of that show, everyone knew about Bob Marley and the Wailers, and it only got bigger from there.
I've never seen anything like him. He was something divine, a nexus where poetry, politics, music and dance came together in one man, and the repercussions are still being felt around the world. He was a shaman, leaping for the heavens when he bounded onstage, dreadlocks flying around, then he strapped on his guitar, the band did one of those crazy reggae gear switches and suddenly we're in a mystic, sweaty Jamaican slum as Marley launches into 'Burning and Looting'. That was his first tune of the evening, 'This morning I woke up in a curfew. Oh Lord I was a prisoner too. Could not recognize the faces standing over me. Dressed in uniforms of brutality'. It was an electrifying transition, and I was like 'Whoa, What was that?' It was a spell, magic and I do feel blessed to have been in the same room as that guy. Even writing the lyrics now and remembering that night, I get a powerful buzz in my body. No wonder I listened to the Wailers almost exclusively for the next ten years, all through my twenties. Some kind of medicine...
Now Marley is thirty years gone, the anniversary of his death was earlier this week. And I'm still affected by that music. It's not just notes, it's not just sounds, there is something much deeper. Shaman.
What's the lesson of all that? My first reaction is to not want to say it, because I know what it is, and I'm afraid that I will judge myself negatively for not living up to it. But then again, if we were to judge ourselves for not being like Marley, uh, we'd all kind of fall short. Take it easy, Rich, it ain't all about you. (he said unconvincingly). Anyhow, when I was in my thirties I was some kind of music journalist for the local weekly arts paper, and I covered a Wailers show when they played at the Wow Hall in Eugene. I got to meet the band and visit with them back in the hotel after the show. I was interviewing Junior Marvin, lead singer and leader after Marley's death and we spoke for about a half hour. At the end of the interview, I said, 'Junior, do you mind if I ask one 'Bob' question?' He said, 'Go ahead, mon, shoot'. I said, 'I've seen the documentaries where this person said 'he was like Moses' and this one said, 'he was a prophet' and this one said 'he was like Jesus'... You played with him, worked with him, was that your impression?' Junior said, 'The man was a workaholic, you're eating, he's working, you're sleeping, he's working, you're fucking, he's working' I said, 'Thank you very much'.
And that was a turning point for me. Until then, I was in some kind of dreamland about Marley, and now here's a great musician who toured with him, recorded with him, and his assessment was that he was a workaholic. How awesome is that! I'm convinced that Marley was a prophet and a special shaman, but he was a fucking hard-working musician here on this plane, and the stuff he put out in an all too short life was prodigious and amazing. Kind of like my other musical hero, George Gershwin, who also didn't make it to 40 years old. They must have had some kind of sense that time was short and there was work to be done. Thank you gentlemen for all the hard work.
And as for not measuring up to Marley or Gershwin, that's probably a fool's game, a no-win situation. Or as someone said to me about a different subject, 'they're not you'. So true. Hmmm that gives me an idea for a song called 'They're not you'. It's the opposite tack of the typical 'you can be (fill in the blank here) inspirational thing which feels trite from the beginning. But to come at it from the opposite approach feels fresh and intriguing. To be continued....
And feeling gratitude for the ability to go inside once more and find some light. Lots of gigs upcoming now after a little dry spell, so I believe there is brightness ahead... (insert 'cleansing breath' here)
But I'm mostly self-sardonic, auto-sardonic, though of course it will spill out into a more generalized cynicism of all the hucksters, flimflam artists, insurance companies, politicians, pharmaceutical firms and advertising messages that flood us in a non-stop sea of bullshit here in pre-rapture America circa 2011. A guy could go crazy, and sadly, many do. I don't happen to be one of them, as I'm quite far from crazy, just a bit despondent at the moment. Maybe I should move to Sardinia? Where is that? Somewhere in the Mediterranean like Cypress I believe. Or perhaps Salonica? Did I just make that up? Put them together and you've got Sardonica, my spiritual homeland. 'Pack the bags, Raiza, we're going back home' (He said sardickishly, as the first laughs of the day came out of my mouth)
And there is some kind of object lesson in this act of writing the sadness into laughs and understanding. It's cliche to describe comedians as using humor as a way out of despair and torment, or the blues singer transcending the pain through music. Both ways are tried and true. (trite and true). I do think it's healthy to simply tell the truth about what's going on, there is a certain chemical reaction which seems to take place, an alchemy of consciousness, the thing examining itself and voila, awareness and movement. This is in contrast to the attempt at concealment, self-delusion and escapism which keeps things as they are. Or as Bob Marley said, 'You're running and you're running and you're running away, you're running and you're running and you're running away, you're running and you're running and you're running away but you can't run away from yourself. Can't run away from yourself.
So glad I got to see Marley live and healthy, in the spring of 1976 at a show at the Beacon Theater in NYC. They were touring behind the Rastaman Vibration album, and it was the tour when he went from being an up and coming 'reggae artist' to a world figure who totally transcended his genre and became the superstar of the planet. Within a year of that show, everyone knew about Bob Marley and the Wailers, and it only got bigger from there.
I've never seen anything like him. He was something divine, a nexus where poetry, politics, music and dance came together in one man, and the repercussions are still being felt around the world. He was a shaman, leaping for the heavens when he bounded onstage, dreadlocks flying around, then he strapped on his guitar, the band did one of those crazy reggae gear switches and suddenly we're in a mystic, sweaty Jamaican slum as Marley launches into 'Burning and Looting'. That was his first tune of the evening, 'This morning I woke up in a curfew. Oh Lord I was a prisoner too. Could not recognize the faces standing over me. Dressed in uniforms of brutality'. It was an electrifying transition, and I was like 'Whoa, What was that?' It was a spell, magic and I do feel blessed to have been in the same room as that guy. Even writing the lyrics now and remembering that night, I get a powerful buzz in my body. No wonder I listened to the Wailers almost exclusively for the next ten years, all through my twenties. Some kind of medicine...
Now Marley is thirty years gone, the anniversary of his death was earlier this week. And I'm still affected by that music. It's not just notes, it's not just sounds, there is something much deeper. Shaman.
What's the lesson of all that? My first reaction is to not want to say it, because I know what it is, and I'm afraid that I will judge myself negatively for not living up to it. But then again, if we were to judge ourselves for not being like Marley, uh, we'd all kind of fall short. Take it easy, Rich, it ain't all about you. (he said unconvincingly). Anyhow, when I was in my thirties I was some kind of music journalist for the local weekly arts paper, and I covered a Wailers show when they played at the Wow Hall in Eugene. I got to meet the band and visit with them back in the hotel after the show. I was interviewing Junior Marvin, lead singer and leader after Marley's death and we spoke for about a half hour. At the end of the interview, I said, 'Junior, do you mind if I ask one 'Bob' question?' He said, 'Go ahead, mon, shoot'. I said, 'I've seen the documentaries where this person said 'he was like Moses' and this one said, 'he was a prophet' and this one said 'he was like Jesus'... You played with him, worked with him, was that your impression?' Junior said, 'The man was a workaholic, you're eating, he's working, you're sleeping, he's working, you're fucking, he's working' I said, 'Thank you very much'.
And that was a turning point for me. Until then, I was in some kind of dreamland about Marley, and now here's a great musician who toured with him, recorded with him, and his assessment was that he was a workaholic. How awesome is that! I'm convinced that Marley was a prophet and a special shaman, but he was a fucking hard-working musician here on this plane, and the stuff he put out in an all too short life was prodigious and amazing. Kind of like my other musical hero, George Gershwin, who also didn't make it to 40 years old. They must have had some kind of sense that time was short and there was work to be done. Thank you gentlemen for all the hard work.
And as for not measuring up to Marley or Gershwin, that's probably a fool's game, a no-win situation. Or as someone said to me about a different subject, 'they're not you'. So true. Hmmm that gives me an idea for a song called 'They're not you'. It's the opposite tack of the typical 'you can be (fill in the blank here) inspirational thing which feels trite from the beginning. But to come at it from the opposite approach feels fresh and intriguing. To be continued....
And feeling gratitude for the ability to go inside once more and find some light. Lots of gigs upcoming now after a little dry spell, so I believe there is brightness ahead... (insert 'cleansing breath' here)
Good one, God
That expression, 'Good one, God' seems to be my default saying when I become aware of the human and divine comedy of my life, Not that I'm divine, by any stretch, quite the contrary, but I find that there are frequent occasions when I am made aware of that Spanish proverb, 'El hombre propone y Dios dispone' (Man proposes and God disposes). And quite often I think it's funny, as in, 'the joke's on me'.
Take yesterday for example, when I wrote a fairly halfhearted little poem about not being afraid of all the 'world is coming to an end' nonsense that some wacky Christian guy is rapturously promoting. It's in the news a bit, and I made a fairly lame attempt at writing about it, in verse form. And my theme was 'I'm not afraid'. So how is it anything but funny when I find myself, half a day later, clutching my heart in fear at 4am, hoping that I'm not having some kind of heart attack. It was as close to a panic as I've experienced in many a year, and uh yeah, I was afraid for a few minutes there. But there's way more to the story.
This little tale started while I was on my return trip from Thailand a few months ago. I was in the LA airport when I struck up a conversation with a woman who was also waiting for a flight. We had a cup of coffee and a conversation, checked each other out a bit, traded our contact information and that was that. A few weeks later I got an email from her wondering why my blog was out of date. I had told her that I was writing a lot, but when she went to check on the website, there were only old postings. I had forgotten to mention that I was writing more personal stuff on this new site, so I passed along the current address. We had a couple of emails back and forth, and I got the feeling that she was somehow very interested in me. I think she saw me as some kind of avatar for some of the changes that she was wanting to make in her life.
A couple of weeks ago she wrote and asked if I had any time on such and such a date, because she was going to be in Eugene. We made plans to meet for lunch, which turned into a walk and a lying in the sun in the park, and then a more intimate connection back at my place. It was the first time that I was ever in the role of 'surrogate'. (not that I know anything about it really, but it just seemed like she was wanting to explore some stuff in the sensual/sexual realm, and I felt able to provide an experienced body to roll around with (so to speak). I felt very clear that it was different from a typical boy-girl interaction when both people are looking to fall in love. Maybe she is, but I know that I'm not, not in this case anyhow. I'm open to it in my life, but I didn't have that kind of mojo for this particular woman.
But through some kind of compartmentalizing process, I felt OK about being available for other kinds of connection, especially considering the fact that I haven't been kissed or held or etc etc for a while now, and my body could really use some attention. So I was working on the theory that there's something in it for me and there's something in it for her, let's try. We had a pretty positive experience last week, I had a little spring in my step the following day, so 'no harm, no foul', right? Uh, maybe, maybe not.
Because it does trigger a question that is often in the back of my mind, having to do with 'casual sex, is it possible?' It often seems like a good idea, but usually doesn't turn out that way. It's like playing with dynamite.... hey, what could happen? (he said whistling past the graveyard).
She was coming through town again this week and we talked about getting together. Her idea was to come over in the evening and then leave the next morning at 5am, this all had to do with the timing of her work and errands and needing to be back home in the morning. My initial reaction to that timing was 'bad idea'. It's one thing to have a little 'afternoon delight', quite something else to spend the night, at least the way that I'm constituted. I'm all about the escape route, I like to sleep on the outside of the bed as opposed to the wall side; I like to visit the woman at her place, and then be able to decide at what time the visit is over. Here was a challenge to my orientation, and it made me nervous, which I shared immediately. (we're both pretty good about saying what's going on inside, that's part of the charm).
We left it as an open question for a couple of days and I came around to thinking, 'well, let's see what happens, maybe there's something for me to learn by putting myself in a more vulnerable position than is normally comfortable'. So we made the plan and she came over last night. Had some dinner, retired to the boudoir, (hey I spelled it right, first time :-) and got down to the business at hand. No, I won't give a blow by blow description (see what I did there?) but we did what people do in that situation. And it was all OK.
But here's the thing, and the fatal flaw in the interaction. It means WAY MORE to her than it does to me. She's on a big quest to get comfortable as a sexual being, a place that she hasn't had a lot of experience so far. It's huge, it's life changing, it's deep. For me, I'm looking to get my rocks off (not to put too fine a point on it). And in that disparity, my sense of guilt and responsibility are activated and it starts to not work for me. It's the age old problem of me feeling responsible for someone else, and not wanting that responsibility. It brings up a lot of fear, along the lines of 'somebody wants something from me, and I can't deliver', which in a nutshell is the pattern that most of my failed relationships follow. Here, we got to do it at hyper-speed, got right to the dilemma without spending months or years to arrive there. Wham bam sorry ma'am.
After our 'connection', which was nice, I was ready to sleep. I had had a physically demanding day and it was 11pm. But H was all fired up, ready to snuggle, pull an all-nighter, fall in love, all of the above. Uh, sorry, no can do, I need to sleep. She accepted that, I don't know how happily, and I drifted off. But we were awake at 4am and she said something along the lines of 'could we continue where we left off a few hours ago?' Certainly a fair request, but my heart totally clenched up then and I got an intense surge of fear and anxiety, as if God was saying, 'look you fool, you can't put yourself in this kind of position'. That was the feeling I had, that it was a message from the universe saying 'abort abort' don't fool yourself into thinking that you can pull this one off. I shared that news with her, and in my mind, it was a done deal; all that's left is for her to get dressed and get on the road. I did try to be as nice as possible; we spent a few minutes on the couch talking. I hope I didn't cause any undue pain.
I asked her if she would mind if I wrote about the experience, keeping things confidential, of course. She said, 'fine', so I'm not violating any trust in writing up this encounter. It seemed so laden with meaning that I guess I had the need to try and capture it, not necessarily share it, but apparently that's what I do.
In case anyone is wondering about M back in Thailand.... as per our agreement, I wrote her an email saying that I had 'done some homework' (code for 'sex') right after the initial interaction. I didn't have to tell her, how would she ever know anyhow?, but I try and keep defaulting to the truth. It keeps things more simple. I don't always succeed, but that is my intention. I haven't heard from her in a week or so, so who knows, maybe she's doing some homework herself...
Take yesterday for example, when I wrote a fairly halfhearted little poem about not being afraid of all the 'world is coming to an end' nonsense that some wacky Christian guy is rapturously promoting. It's in the news a bit, and I made a fairly lame attempt at writing about it, in verse form. And my theme was 'I'm not afraid'. So how is it anything but funny when I find myself, half a day later, clutching my heart in fear at 4am, hoping that I'm not having some kind of heart attack. It was as close to a panic as I've experienced in many a year, and uh yeah, I was afraid for a few minutes there. But there's way more to the story.
This little tale started while I was on my return trip from Thailand a few months ago. I was in the LA airport when I struck up a conversation with a woman who was also waiting for a flight. We had a cup of coffee and a conversation, checked each other out a bit, traded our contact information and that was that. A few weeks later I got an email from her wondering why my blog was out of date. I had told her that I was writing a lot, but when she went to check on the website, there were only old postings. I had forgotten to mention that I was writing more personal stuff on this new site, so I passed along the current address. We had a couple of emails back and forth, and I got the feeling that she was somehow very interested in me. I think she saw me as some kind of avatar for some of the changes that she was wanting to make in her life.
A couple of weeks ago she wrote and asked if I had any time on such and such a date, because she was going to be in Eugene. We made plans to meet for lunch, which turned into a walk and a lying in the sun in the park, and then a more intimate connection back at my place. It was the first time that I was ever in the role of 'surrogate'. (not that I know anything about it really, but it just seemed like she was wanting to explore some stuff in the sensual/sexual realm, and I felt able to provide an experienced body to roll around with (so to speak). I felt very clear that it was different from a typical boy-girl interaction when both people are looking to fall in love. Maybe she is, but I know that I'm not, not in this case anyhow. I'm open to it in my life, but I didn't have that kind of mojo for this particular woman.
But through some kind of compartmentalizing process, I felt OK about being available for other kinds of connection, especially considering the fact that I haven't been kissed or held or etc etc for a while now, and my body could really use some attention. So I was working on the theory that there's something in it for me and there's something in it for her, let's try. We had a pretty positive experience last week, I had a little spring in my step the following day, so 'no harm, no foul', right? Uh, maybe, maybe not.
Because it does trigger a question that is often in the back of my mind, having to do with 'casual sex, is it possible?' It often seems like a good idea, but usually doesn't turn out that way. It's like playing with dynamite.... hey, what could happen? (he said whistling past the graveyard).
She was coming through town again this week and we talked about getting together. Her idea was to come over in the evening and then leave the next morning at 5am, this all had to do with the timing of her work and errands and needing to be back home in the morning. My initial reaction to that timing was 'bad idea'. It's one thing to have a little 'afternoon delight', quite something else to spend the night, at least the way that I'm constituted. I'm all about the escape route, I like to sleep on the outside of the bed as opposed to the wall side; I like to visit the woman at her place, and then be able to decide at what time the visit is over. Here was a challenge to my orientation, and it made me nervous, which I shared immediately. (we're both pretty good about saying what's going on inside, that's part of the charm).
We left it as an open question for a couple of days and I came around to thinking, 'well, let's see what happens, maybe there's something for me to learn by putting myself in a more vulnerable position than is normally comfortable'. So we made the plan and she came over last night. Had some dinner, retired to the boudoir, (hey I spelled it right, first time :-) and got down to the business at hand. No, I won't give a blow by blow description (see what I did there?) but we did what people do in that situation. And it was all OK.
But here's the thing, and the fatal flaw in the interaction. It means WAY MORE to her than it does to me. She's on a big quest to get comfortable as a sexual being, a place that she hasn't had a lot of experience so far. It's huge, it's life changing, it's deep. For me, I'm looking to get my rocks off (not to put too fine a point on it). And in that disparity, my sense of guilt and responsibility are activated and it starts to not work for me. It's the age old problem of me feeling responsible for someone else, and not wanting that responsibility. It brings up a lot of fear, along the lines of 'somebody wants something from me, and I can't deliver', which in a nutshell is the pattern that most of my failed relationships follow. Here, we got to do it at hyper-speed, got right to the dilemma without spending months or years to arrive there. Wham bam sorry ma'am.
After our 'connection', which was nice, I was ready to sleep. I had had a physically demanding day and it was 11pm. But H was all fired up, ready to snuggle, pull an all-nighter, fall in love, all of the above. Uh, sorry, no can do, I need to sleep. She accepted that, I don't know how happily, and I drifted off. But we were awake at 4am and she said something along the lines of 'could we continue where we left off a few hours ago?' Certainly a fair request, but my heart totally clenched up then and I got an intense surge of fear and anxiety, as if God was saying, 'look you fool, you can't put yourself in this kind of position'. That was the feeling I had, that it was a message from the universe saying 'abort abort' don't fool yourself into thinking that you can pull this one off. I shared that news with her, and in my mind, it was a done deal; all that's left is for her to get dressed and get on the road. I did try to be as nice as possible; we spent a few minutes on the couch talking. I hope I didn't cause any undue pain.
I asked her if she would mind if I wrote about the experience, keeping things confidential, of course. She said, 'fine', so I'm not violating any trust in writing up this encounter. It seemed so laden with meaning that I guess I had the need to try and capture it, not necessarily share it, but apparently that's what I do.
In case anyone is wondering about M back in Thailand.... as per our agreement, I wrote her an email saying that I had 'done some homework' (code for 'sex') right after the initial interaction. I didn't have to tell her, how would she ever know anyhow?, but I try and keep defaulting to the truth. It keeps things more simple. I don't always succeed, but that is my intention. I haven't heard from her in a week or so, so who knows, maybe she's doing some homework herself...
The End of the World (As we know it)
World's coming to an end again
We'll be captured by the rapture
Again, and then?
More reminders to slip off the blinders
And face the light that has always been shining
Sunday Monday shining shining
Tuesday Wednesday shining shining
Thursday Friday Saturday shining
I know that glow, may it ever be so
Doomsday prophets but I'm not afraid
Screaming headlines and I'm not afraid
Nervous whispers still I'm not afraid
Guess I made the grade cause I'm not afraid
We'll be captured by the rapture
Again, and then?
More reminders to slip off the blinders
And face the light that has always been shining
Sunday Monday shining shining
Tuesday Wednesday shining shining
Thursday Friday Saturday shining
I know that glow, may it ever be so
Doomsday prophets but I'm not afraid
Screaming headlines and I'm not afraid
Nervous whispers still I'm not afraid
Guess I made the grade cause I'm not afraid
Rejection (a reflecton)
I got the feedback from three different individuals (within a one hour period) that they felt some rejection from me. They were all women, which may or may not be relevant. Perhaps I'll have more to say about that as the thoughts proceed, it's too early to know at this moment.
When one person gives me feedback, 'hey that's interesting'; when two give it, 'wow, how about that?'; when three give it within an hour, 'hmmm, I think I know what I need to write about and find out about'. So my goal is to try and understand this part of me that is a rejector. I wish that I could be specific about the scenes, but concerns for other people's privacy likely outweigh my own desire to just let it rip. So I feel unable to simply describe the scenes and glean whatever truths I can uncover. Guess I need a new tack.
It's certainly connected to that strong 'judgment' streak which is so enmeshed in my personality. I make determinations all the time, this person is attractive, this person is needy, this person talks too much, this person has issues, this one makes me uncomfortable, this one has no talent.... and the more I write this stuff, the less I like myself. There's a quality of nastiness that comes through and it's not attractive. So I will suspend my 'less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy' for the moment and lay some judgment on myself. 'Dude, why are you so critical? Do you want to drive everybody away until there's no one left, and then there will be nothing else to do but jump off a bridge because you're so alone?' I guess that would be the final rejection, the coup de grace. On some level that's what I'm doing.... not driving everybody away, but driving some away certainly. But is it a bad thing? I genuinely do not know. Let's try and make the case for both sides...
I mean, it sounds nice to have lots of friends, lots of people calling me up, inviting me to parties and events. I feel envious when I see all the allegedly connected people on Facebook, living their connected lives, in their connected relationships, with their connected kids and their connected friends, while I search the inbox in vain, hoping that someone will get in touch with me. I definitely don't measure up to the way their lives are 'seeming' to play out. It seems silly to bemoan my fate, and I'm actually not doing that, just trying to access the feelings which correspond to different parts of my life. I do get lonely and I do feel sad and disconnected, especially when I imagine that others are living more fulfilled lives than me. And then I'll find ways to mask that feeling, often by zoning out in one way or another, TV, drugs, pornography, food etc.
I'm not really judging myself that harshly, it just is what it is, and it seems like a good idea to try and accept that this is where I am at present, rather than judge myself negatively about it. Because then I can get to the dreaded 'double fucked' state in which things are rough and then I judge myself for having things be rough, which multiplies the grief exponentially, the dreaded 'double fuck'. Don't want to go there... Don't have to go there...
But there is obviously some reason why I separate myself from people and carve out a 'safe zone'. It must meet some needs which I have for quiet, peace and yeah, safety. There's that expression 'he doesn't suffer fools gladly'. I looked it up (Thank you senor Google) and found that it comes from the book of Paul, speaking to the Corinthians. Usually that expression, 'he doesn't suffer fools gladly' would be ascribed to someone who has no patience with either dumb or overbearing people, and he finds a way to either ridicule or avoid them. (I just spelled the word 'dumb' as 'dum' which is pretty funny, given the fact that I think of myself as such a bright light. Good one, God. Reminds me of when I saw a sign at a little restaurant in some hick town which said, 'Gormay Food' Uh yeah, right...
Thing is, the people I reject aren't fools. Quite the contrary, so the expression doesn't entirely fit. I suppose there is some judgment involved, some criticism of something about the person, but more important than that is the sense of self-protection that seems to be at work in my carving out space. So it's not simply a case of 'you are judged, get away from me'. It's more like, 'you are judged, you are a threat, now get away from me'. So I guess I need to dig into the idea of what threatens me. But I'll have to do that in a subsequent installment as my time is up for this session because I have a rehearsal in a few minutes and I need to shower and prepare. To be continued.
When one person gives me feedback, 'hey that's interesting'; when two give it, 'wow, how about that?'; when three give it within an hour, 'hmmm, I think I know what I need to write about and find out about'. So my goal is to try and understand this part of me that is a rejector. I wish that I could be specific about the scenes, but concerns for other people's privacy likely outweigh my own desire to just let it rip. So I feel unable to simply describe the scenes and glean whatever truths I can uncover. Guess I need a new tack.
It's certainly connected to that strong 'judgment' streak which is so enmeshed in my personality. I make determinations all the time, this person is attractive, this person is needy, this person talks too much, this person has issues, this one makes me uncomfortable, this one has no talent.... and the more I write this stuff, the less I like myself. There's a quality of nastiness that comes through and it's not attractive. So I will suspend my 'less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy' for the moment and lay some judgment on myself. 'Dude, why are you so critical? Do you want to drive everybody away until there's no one left, and then there will be nothing else to do but jump off a bridge because you're so alone?' I guess that would be the final rejection, the coup de grace. On some level that's what I'm doing.... not driving everybody away, but driving some away certainly. But is it a bad thing? I genuinely do not know. Let's try and make the case for both sides...
I mean, it sounds nice to have lots of friends, lots of people calling me up, inviting me to parties and events. I feel envious when I see all the allegedly connected people on Facebook, living their connected lives, in their connected relationships, with their connected kids and their connected friends, while I search the inbox in vain, hoping that someone will get in touch with me. I definitely don't measure up to the way their lives are 'seeming' to play out. It seems silly to bemoan my fate, and I'm actually not doing that, just trying to access the feelings which correspond to different parts of my life. I do get lonely and I do feel sad and disconnected, especially when I imagine that others are living more fulfilled lives than me. And then I'll find ways to mask that feeling, often by zoning out in one way or another, TV, drugs, pornography, food etc.
I'm not really judging myself that harshly, it just is what it is, and it seems like a good idea to try and accept that this is where I am at present, rather than judge myself negatively about it. Because then I can get to the dreaded 'double fucked' state in which things are rough and then I judge myself for having things be rough, which multiplies the grief exponentially, the dreaded 'double fuck'. Don't want to go there... Don't have to go there...
But there is obviously some reason why I separate myself from people and carve out a 'safe zone'. It must meet some needs which I have for quiet, peace and yeah, safety. There's that expression 'he doesn't suffer fools gladly'. I looked it up (Thank you senor Google) and found that it comes from the book of Paul, speaking to the Corinthians. Usually that expression, 'he doesn't suffer fools gladly' would be ascribed to someone who has no patience with either dumb or overbearing people, and he finds a way to either ridicule or avoid them. (I just spelled the word 'dumb' as 'dum' which is pretty funny, given the fact that I think of myself as such a bright light. Good one, God. Reminds me of when I saw a sign at a little restaurant in some hick town which said, 'Gormay Food' Uh yeah, right...
Thing is, the people I reject aren't fools. Quite the contrary, so the expression doesn't entirely fit. I suppose there is some judgment involved, some criticism of something about the person, but more important than that is the sense of self-protection that seems to be at work in my carving out space. So it's not simply a case of 'you are judged, get away from me'. It's more like, 'you are judged, you are a threat, now get away from me'. So I guess I need to dig into the idea of what threatens me. But I'll have to do that in a subsequent installment as my time is up for this session because I have a rehearsal in a few minutes and I need to shower and prepare. To be continued.
Found a Peanut...
Found a peanut, found a peanut, found a peanut last night. Actually I didn't find a peanut, but I did find a half hour that I wasn't expecting, and that's the first thing that popped into my head when I found it. Why did I 'find' a half hour? Because I got up, showered, coffeed, and then got ready to bike over to my 8am dance class at the gym. Put on my helmet, grabbed the back pack with the dance shoes inside, unlocked my bike (I know this is all terribly interesting stuff) and started wheeling around the house to get going.
Hey wait a minute, what time is that dance class again? During the week it's at 8:30 and on Saturdays it's at 8am. Have I gotten it backwards again? Checked my cell phone and yeah, it was 7:45am and I'm a half hour early. Found a peanut, found a peanut, found a peanut last night. I suppose I could use the time to scrub out the bathtub as the reddish mildew stains are beginning to reappear. Nah, later on that, besides, I like to do that chore and then hop into the clean shower for a victory wash, and I'm already showered this morning. I could practice the piano for half an hour, keep banging away at that 'Up a Lazy River' melody that is quite challenging? Nah, I'll do that later. Maybe dig in to the blog for half an hour and see if I can rustle up something interesting, or at least put something down. Yeah, that's right, here I am.
'Here I am' is what Moses said to God at the burning bush during that revelatory sequence in the desert. In Hebrew it's 'Hineni' (here I am). Moses sees the bush burning but not being consumed by the flames, he hears a voice that says 'Moses'. Moses doesn't say, 'yo', he doesn't say, 'You talking to me?' he doesn't say, 'Who's there?' (although he does say that later on in the conversation). He does say, 'Here I am'.... and then comes the conversation that changes the course of history, in which Moses gets his marching orders (literally) and begins the return to Egypt and the freeing of his people.
I didn't hear a voice call my name this morning, but I'm saying 'Here I am' anyway. Can you do that? Yeah, why not, here I am. Amusingly, the computer had a little hiccup when I tried to write that last 'here I am' after asking (rhetorically) if it was OK to do so. So I typed it in, but the 'I am' took a few seconds to appear. Good one, God, you got me again :-) And it makes me wonder if that's what's been missing from my life lately (forever?) That connection with something greater. I tend to go inside to find the truth, as if the truth resided in one Rich Glauber and all his alleged magnificence (he said sarcastically). And yeah, the truth is in there, but it's way deeper than anything I could create on my own. The greater truth is that I can only hope to channel and tune into something of which I am only an infinitesimal part. I've definitely been guilty of trying to take credit for that which is not mine, often with unhappy results. So here this morning, in my one half hour of bonus time, I've gotten a little glimpse into that sweet humility which needs to be part of the path. In other words 'here I am' could be thought of as 'here I am, part of the much bigger story' 'here I am, open to the rest of the world'. Time to dance...
Hey wait a minute, what time is that dance class again? During the week it's at 8:30 and on Saturdays it's at 8am. Have I gotten it backwards again? Checked my cell phone and yeah, it was 7:45am and I'm a half hour early. Found a peanut, found a peanut, found a peanut last night. I suppose I could use the time to scrub out the bathtub as the reddish mildew stains are beginning to reappear. Nah, later on that, besides, I like to do that chore and then hop into the clean shower for a victory wash, and I'm already showered this morning. I could practice the piano for half an hour, keep banging away at that 'Up a Lazy River' melody that is quite challenging? Nah, I'll do that later. Maybe dig in to the blog for half an hour and see if I can rustle up something interesting, or at least put something down. Yeah, that's right, here I am.
'Here I am' is what Moses said to God at the burning bush during that revelatory sequence in the desert. In Hebrew it's 'Hineni' (here I am). Moses sees the bush burning but not being consumed by the flames, he hears a voice that says 'Moses'. Moses doesn't say, 'yo', he doesn't say, 'You talking to me?' he doesn't say, 'Who's there?' (although he does say that later on in the conversation). He does say, 'Here I am'.... and then comes the conversation that changes the course of history, in which Moses gets his marching orders (literally) and begins the return to Egypt and the freeing of his people.
I didn't hear a voice call my name this morning, but I'm saying 'Here I am' anyway. Can you do that? Yeah, why not, here I am. Amusingly, the computer had a little hiccup when I tried to write that last 'here I am' after asking (rhetorically) if it was OK to do so. So I typed it in, but the 'I am' took a few seconds to appear. Good one, God, you got me again :-) And it makes me wonder if that's what's been missing from my life lately (forever?) That connection with something greater. I tend to go inside to find the truth, as if the truth resided in one Rich Glauber and all his alleged magnificence (he said sarcastically). And yeah, the truth is in there, but it's way deeper than anything I could create on my own. The greater truth is that I can only hope to channel and tune into something of which I am only an infinitesimal part. I've definitely been guilty of trying to take credit for that which is not mine, often with unhappy results. So here this morning, in my one half hour of bonus time, I've gotten a little glimpse into that sweet humility which needs to be part of the path. In other words 'here I am' could be thought of as 'here I am, part of the much bigger story' 'here I am, open to the rest of the world'. Time to dance...
Holding pattern....
8:35 on a Sunday morning, got my usual six or so hours of sleep, woke up, did the puzzle along with a glass of iced coffee, now there's an hour or so to check in and see if there's anything of interest happening within. At 10am, I'll be at the WOW HALL (Community Center for the Performing Arts) for a two hour 'ecstatic dance' event that happens every week. It's our little movement church thing that we do in community, and a great way to spend Sunday mornings. But that's then, and this is now, or is it? I realize that I have lost a bit of the mojo for going inside and revealing (reviling?) what I find there. I could think of lots of reasons why. Maybe I don't like what I see and would rather try and forget about it. Maybe it's none of your fucking business (he said with a chuckle). Maybe I'm feeling a little frustrated with the fact that the stuff that seemed so important a few months ago (great new songs, great insights etc) are just things in the rear-view mirror that don't have a lot of staying power. Maybe the word 'maybe' is a rhetorical device that I'm using to reveal myself anyway. Ho ho ho. That made me smile.
Yesterday there were all of these public music events happening and I wasn't too interested. Face it, I'm much more concerned with my own musical pursuits (such as they are) (he said with a slight put down) than with what other people are doing. In truth, the highlight of the day was the hour I spent at the piano going through a 'show tunes' song book I got from the library. I poked through it, looking to add stuff to the repertoire (I quite often spell that word wrong, my first impulse is to write reportoire, like it's a report of some kind). Let's pause for just a second and look up the word. Thank you senor Google.
So there I am poring through the book and I picked out the following two songs to spend some time with: 'Cabaret' and 'There's No Business Like Show Business'. They're both GREAT SONGS, they deal with similar subject matter, and they use some musical tricks that keep them out of reach of non-schooled musicians. And I sat at the piano, my housemate was out at a show, so I felt free to sing both songs at the top of my lungs while working out the chord changes. I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction by getting new sounds in the old bag of tricks. It's kind of like magic. I get to sit there, practice a bit, apply my brain and body to the task and voila, here's a song that sounds great, that feels great, that lifts the spirit.
It's not a nostalgia thing, finding comfort in the familiar, at least I don't think it's that. It's more a sense of excitement about rhythm and harmony and craft, and it turns me on. It touches in to mathematics, athletics, puzzles and artistry, so I can see why it makes me as happy as it does. And then I'm singing and I'm sure that some scientific types have discovered that singing provides all sorts of benefits to the brain and body. I'm not familiar with the research, have no interest in that line of inquiry, but I know it to be true.
And this is why I get a lot of pleasure from going to the senior centers and getting the old folks singing and smiling. I have a steady twice a month gig at a place nearby where I play on the 5th floor, to folks who need quite a bit of help. They're all in wheelchairs, and there is a lot of diminished mental stuff going on as well. The piano is on the far side of the room, so I just grab the guitar and put myself in a central location and start singing along. Often times, there will be people who don't speak, but then a song will grab them and they'll start singing, like a memory that got triggered and a synapse that fired. Feels like God's work to give pleasure to folks who could really use it. I'd do it for nothing (but the $50 comes in handy, truth be told)
Other than the music, I seem to be in a holding pattern, but you know, that's OK too. I'm still trying to adhere to my 'less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy' mantra, and I do believe that it's working on some level. I've been relatively at peace the past couple of weeks, and even aware of some options when I start to go down the judgment highway. It's like, 'hang on there, Rich, this is what it's about, can you short circuit the familiar route and find another way?' So far, pretty good...
But maybe that taking it easy on myself is the reason for my lack of poignancy in the blog lately. Perhaps I'm giving myself an excuse to not delve more deeply into what's going on. That could be true, and if so, .... oh well.... Maybe just let it be for awhile. Yeah maybe
Yesterday there were all of these public music events happening and I wasn't too interested. Face it, I'm much more concerned with my own musical pursuits (such as they are) (he said with a slight put down) than with what other people are doing. In truth, the highlight of the day was the hour I spent at the piano going through a 'show tunes' song book I got from the library. I poked through it, looking to add stuff to the repertoire (I quite often spell that word wrong, my first impulse is to write reportoire, like it's a report of some kind). Let's pause for just a second and look up the word. Thank you senor Google.
So there I am poring through the book and I picked out the following two songs to spend some time with: 'Cabaret' and 'There's No Business Like Show Business'. They're both GREAT SONGS, they deal with similar subject matter, and they use some musical tricks that keep them out of reach of non-schooled musicians. And I sat at the piano, my housemate was out at a show, so I felt free to sing both songs at the top of my lungs while working out the chord changes. I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction by getting new sounds in the old bag of tricks. It's kind of like magic. I get to sit there, practice a bit, apply my brain and body to the task and voila, here's a song that sounds great, that feels great, that lifts the spirit.
It's not a nostalgia thing, finding comfort in the familiar, at least I don't think it's that. It's more a sense of excitement about rhythm and harmony and craft, and it turns me on. It touches in to mathematics, athletics, puzzles and artistry, so I can see why it makes me as happy as it does. And then I'm singing and I'm sure that some scientific types have discovered that singing provides all sorts of benefits to the brain and body. I'm not familiar with the research, have no interest in that line of inquiry, but I know it to be true.
And this is why I get a lot of pleasure from going to the senior centers and getting the old folks singing and smiling. I have a steady twice a month gig at a place nearby where I play on the 5th floor, to folks who need quite a bit of help. They're all in wheelchairs, and there is a lot of diminished mental stuff going on as well. The piano is on the far side of the room, so I just grab the guitar and put myself in a central location and start singing along. Often times, there will be people who don't speak, but then a song will grab them and they'll start singing, like a memory that got triggered and a synapse that fired. Feels like God's work to give pleasure to folks who could really use it. I'd do it for nothing (but the $50 comes in handy, truth be told)
Other than the music, I seem to be in a holding pattern, but you know, that's OK too. I'm still trying to adhere to my 'less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy' mantra, and I do believe that it's working on some level. I've been relatively at peace the past couple of weeks, and even aware of some options when I start to go down the judgment highway. It's like, 'hang on there, Rich, this is what it's about, can you short circuit the familiar route and find another way?' So far, pretty good...
But maybe that taking it easy on myself is the reason for my lack of poignancy in the blog lately. Perhaps I'm giving myself an excuse to not delve more deeply into what's going on. That could be true, and if so, .... oh well.... Maybe just let it be for awhile. Yeah maybe
Portrait of the artist as a not so young man
Sore back today, most likely the result of overdoing it in Zumba class yesterday; it's pretty high-impact and I was really going for it. Today, not so much. But do I complain? No I do not. Who would complain about too much dancing at age 57? (he asked rhetorically). I did make it to my morning dance class and could feel the fatigue, but I used it as a nice warm up, didn't push much at all, and all will be well. This would, however, be a great day for a hot tub and a massage, and though I could arrange the former, I'm too cheap for the latter. Note to self, if my next girlfriend is into massage, that would be great. Second note to self, next time I go to Thailand, take advantage of the wonderful and cheap massages which are available. It's one of my only regrets about the last trip.
Kinda liking my life this week, even though my work is very sporadic (read 'next to nothing') which is often a recipe for self-recrimination and bad feeling. Perhaps my new found mantra of 'less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy' is working? And yes, I managed to write that mantra without having to refer to a previous post. Maybe it's sinking in? Many people would be envious of being able to live as care-free (on the surface) a life as I seem to, but I'm guessing that they might find it challenging too. I'm reminded of a feature I saw about recently laid off financial workers who were just freaking out about not having a job to go to and lots of stuff on their plate. It was very threatening to be faced with a day in which the job didn't define them. By 11 in the morning they were beside themselves, and I found it quite interesting.
I'm working a lot on the piano these days, especially getting my left hand to play that bouncing ragtime feel that I've never done before. I have a piano gig coming up in a couple of weeks and am looking forward to sharing some of the new stuff I've been developing. I do play the piano at my old people gigs, but this one is different in that I'll be doing background music at the 'Slug Queen Ball' in the early part of the evening, so I'll get to set the mood as people arrive. I've got a nice version of 'When You Wish Upon a Star' going, and wow what a beautiful melody and lyric! I'm working on 'Birth of the Blues', 'Up a Lazy River' and one of my new ones which is called 'Song and Dance Man'. Yes it's autobiographical, the music is done and I have the lyric for the bridge.
And if your heart is breaking
The world's gone cold
And there's an aching in your soul
When all your dreams have fallen
Flat on the ground
You surely need someone
To turn it back around...
You need a song and dance man
Nobody does it like he can
Watch him whip up the grandstand
He's a song and dance man...
Here's the mini-analysis, and a window into the way my mind works when I'm composing. I like the first three lines of the bridge a lot because in line three I rhymed both lines one and two. I saw that trick in Dylan's song 'Mozambique' when he wrote:
I like to spend some time in Mozambique
The sunny sky is aqua blue
And all the couples dancing cheek to cheek
It's very nice to stay a week or two
When he writes 'week or two' that rhymes with both lines one and two and gives it a real nice feel. The sentiment in my song is totally different, but I happened upon the same little trick, not intentionally, but I recognized it when it occurred. Another little inside joke happens on the line 'turn it back around' because I threw in a nice jazzy 'turnaround' under those lyrics, a turnaround being a sequence of chords that leads you back to the beginning of the song. So there's a little double entendre between the music and the lyrics. I heard the same idea in the musical Wicked when the lead witch sang the line 'Breaking all the rules' as a big climactic moment in her song, and the composer threw in a very unusual 'rule breaking' interval for that line. I'm sure that I'm one of the only people who noticed it, but I thought it was a super compositional move. I love that kind of stuff.
I'll put in some more time later today on 'Song and Dance Man', both writing and playing. It's an uptempo jazzy thing a la 'Aint She Sweet' but it's got a 'feeling' section in the bridge... which gets turned around back into the swing. I want to capture a bit of the joie de vivre along with the slap-dash nature of making something out of nothing, which is kind of what a song and dance man can do. It's like that quote about me being a 'musical bricoleur'. This was written by a professor friend of mine who was describing my ability to just make it happen in the moment, with whatever is at hand. There's a bit of magic, a bit of recklessness, some trusting in the skills and the moment to just let it fly and see what happens. I guess I'm trying to capture that feeling in a song, and maybe there's a bit of that 'tears of a clown when there's no one around' that makes it into a verse, but I haven't figured that out yet. No, that doesn't feel quite right, but I do want to capture something of the razzamatazz, smoke and mirrors, there's no business like show business vibe as a counterpoint. So in other words, I'll have to put in some hard work and thought into capturing the 'in the moment' sensibility. And that is a little bit of irony that I'm happy to live with....
Kinda liking my life this week, even though my work is very sporadic (read 'next to nothing') which is often a recipe for self-recrimination and bad feeling. Perhaps my new found mantra of 'less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy' is working? And yes, I managed to write that mantra without having to refer to a previous post. Maybe it's sinking in? Many people would be envious of being able to live as care-free (on the surface) a life as I seem to, but I'm guessing that they might find it challenging too. I'm reminded of a feature I saw about recently laid off financial workers who were just freaking out about not having a job to go to and lots of stuff on their plate. It was very threatening to be faced with a day in which the job didn't define them. By 11 in the morning they were beside themselves, and I found it quite interesting.
I'm working a lot on the piano these days, especially getting my left hand to play that bouncing ragtime feel that I've never done before. I have a piano gig coming up in a couple of weeks and am looking forward to sharing some of the new stuff I've been developing. I do play the piano at my old people gigs, but this one is different in that I'll be doing background music at the 'Slug Queen Ball' in the early part of the evening, so I'll get to set the mood as people arrive. I've got a nice version of 'When You Wish Upon a Star' going, and wow what a beautiful melody and lyric! I'm working on 'Birth of the Blues', 'Up a Lazy River' and one of my new ones which is called 'Song and Dance Man'. Yes it's autobiographical, the music is done and I have the lyric for the bridge.
And if your heart is breaking
The world's gone cold
And there's an aching in your soul
When all your dreams have fallen
Flat on the ground
You surely need someone
To turn it back around...
You need a song and dance man
Nobody does it like he can
Watch him whip up the grandstand
He's a song and dance man...
Here's the mini-analysis, and a window into the way my mind works when I'm composing. I like the first three lines of the bridge a lot because in line three I rhymed both lines one and two. I saw that trick in Dylan's song 'Mozambique' when he wrote:
I like to spend some time in Mozambique
The sunny sky is aqua blue
And all the couples dancing cheek to cheek
It's very nice to stay a week or two
When he writes 'week or two' that rhymes with both lines one and two and gives it a real nice feel. The sentiment in my song is totally different, but I happened upon the same little trick, not intentionally, but I recognized it when it occurred. Another little inside joke happens on the line 'turn it back around' because I threw in a nice jazzy 'turnaround' under those lyrics, a turnaround being a sequence of chords that leads you back to the beginning of the song. So there's a little double entendre between the music and the lyrics. I heard the same idea in the musical Wicked when the lead witch sang the line 'Breaking all the rules' as a big climactic moment in her song, and the composer threw in a very unusual 'rule breaking' interval for that line. I'm sure that I'm one of the only people who noticed it, but I thought it was a super compositional move. I love that kind of stuff.
I'll put in some more time later today on 'Song and Dance Man', both writing and playing. It's an uptempo jazzy thing a la 'Aint She Sweet' but it's got a 'feeling' section in the bridge... which gets turned around back into the swing. I want to capture a bit of the joie de vivre along with the slap-dash nature of making something out of nothing, which is kind of what a song and dance man can do. It's like that quote about me being a 'musical bricoleur'. This was written by a professor friend of mine who was describing my ability to just make it happen in the moment, with whatever is at hand. There's a bit of magic, a bit of recklessness, some trusting in the skills and the moment to just let it fly and see what happens. I guess I'm trying to capture that feeling in a song, and maybe there's a bit of that 'tears of a clown when there's no one around' that makes it into a verse, but I haven't figured that out yet. No, that doesn't feel quite right, but I do want to capture something of the razzamatazz, smoke and mirrors, there's no business like show business vibe as a counterpoint. So in other words, I'll have to put in some hard work and thought into capturing the 'in the moment' sensibility. And that is a little bit of irony that I'm happy to live with....
Hard to remember....
One more time to the well
One more time to say 'what the hell'
One more chance to understand
Another chance to lend a hand
Let's see now, where were we? Away from judgment and loathing, toward gratitude and joy.... Interestingly, it's hard for me to actually remember those words. I had to refer back to the blog to see the words that made so much sense a couple of days ago, that seemed so central and true. I still believe in their worth, but I find it fascinating that I, who can remember words for decades and decades, has trouble placing this particular sentence into a retrievable folder.
I'm reminded of a period of time in which I got some over-the-phone coaching from my friend Terry who was training as a life coach and needed some people to practice on. It was kind of like free counseling and I ate it up. We would talk for maybe 45 minutes once a week, and I found it exciting and helpful to focus in like that. But I noticed that the insights would fade over the course of the week until being rekindled during the next week's conversation. It occurred to me that I wished I had some way to keep the knowledge close at hand, kind of like the Catholics would use a set of rosary beads to hold and meditate on. That thought inspired a tune which came out more or less instantaneously.
I'm gonna make a rosary of the things I should remember
Things I should remember to guide me on my way
Guide me on my way on the path that leads to the holy one
Path that leads to the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
Back when I was younger I swore I would remember
Swore I would remember the miracle of life
Miracle of life, a precious gift from the holy one
Precious gift from the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
When I'm with my friends and my family my heart could fill to bursting
Heart could fill to bursting when I'm dancing in their light
Dancing in their light, a reflection of the holy one
Reflection of the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
I love the little children, their hearts are truly innocent
Hearts are truly innocent, their spirit's full of joy
Spirit's full of joy because they're so close to the holy one
So close to the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
We're standing on the shoulders of the ones who came before us
The ones who came before us, they planted the seeds
Planted the seeds, asking blessings from the holy one
Blessings from the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
-----------------------------------------------
Feeling pretty good about things, and for no good reason, which seems like a good thing. I do believe that the judgment piece has been quite the hindrance over the years, in many ways. (if I were to judge, that is). OK wise-ass take a break from the 'clever' for just a minute. I've been a hyper critical person over the years, directing the beam of analysis both inward and outward, and I'm feeling that it would be a good thing to give it a rest, be more accepting of myself and others, lighten up the critique and see what, if anything, happens as a result.
I met this young American guy in Thailand, sensational guitar player, travels around the world and records videos of himself performing songs at the Pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, the beaches of Southern Thailand etc. Great player, very self involved, ego very prominent and it all feels kind of 'young' to me. I'm not really judging now, just sensing something that I can relate to. He's been in this rage about some people criticizing him for playing covers, and he's been spewing lots of vitriol about how they're so stupid and he's gonna show them how wrong they are, meanwhile, please watch my videos.... It's a turn-off, and I imagine that over the years, people have had that same reaction to me and my own little superiority number. Fuck, I'd have that same reaction to me and some of my 'artiste' moments. So this guy is providing a good mirror.
Contrast that with people like the Dalai Lama and other wise ones. In my mind, they have the ability to non-judgmentally view the world and its inhabitants as part of a great process. I obviously can't speak for the Dalai Lama, but I have a sense that he would see people in terms of their path toward wisdom. If there are disagreements, it's possible to leave out the judgment and the passion. Just see and sense and keep the center. (and breathe)
I had an experience at the age of twenty, when I was bombing around Mexico for the first time, and I ended up in Agua Azul, a tiny pueblo in Chiapas. It was something of a gringo destination, as there was an incredible tropical river that cascaded through the forest there. It was a tiny settlement, one little store, 10 or 20 indigenous families and maybe twenty gringos camping along the river. I remember this one day when an American guy chopped down a bunch of bananas which he assumed were ripe, but were actually inedible and green. He had no business stealing food from a population that was struggling to survive on beans and tortillas and a little bit of fruit, and the fact that the bananas were now just going to go to waste only added to the wrongness of his act.
One of the elders of the village 'Don Juan' saw this unfold and rather than berate the young man, he just seemed to have a stoic understanding of the situation. He told the guy that the bananas were unripe, didn't raise his voice, said few words, and there was a look in his eye that took it all in without a lot of judgment, even though this was food for his village and some interloper had wasted it. Me, I was furious with the guy, thinking he was a moron, yet the man who was truly affected by the situation showed none of that anger. I would like to aspire to Don Juan's level of understanding and grace. Less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy... (and no, I still can't remember it without referring back.... This is fascinating to me, the concept is having a hard time taking root.
One more time to say 'what the hell'
One more chance to understand
Another chance to lend a hand
Let's see now, where were we? Away from judgment and loathing, toward gratitude and joy.... Interestingly, it's hard for me to actually remember those words. I had to refer back to the blog to see the words that made so much sense a couple of days ago, that seemed so central and true. I still believe in their worth, but I find it fascinating that I, who can remember words for decades and decades, has trouble placing this particular sentence into a retrievable folder.
I'm reminded of a period of time in which I got some over-the-phone coaching from my friend Terry who was training as a life coach and needed some people to practice on. It was kind of like free counseling and I ate it up. We would talk for maybe 45 minutes once a week, and I found it exciting and helpful to focus in like that. But I noticed that the insights would fade over the course of the week until being rekindled during the next week's conversation. It occurred to me that I wished I had some way to keep the knowledge close at hand, kind of like the Catholics would use a set of rosary beads to hold and meditate on. That thought inspired a tune which came out more or less instantaneously.
I'm gonna make a rosary of the things I should remember
Things I should remember to guide me on my way
Guide me on my way on the path that leads to the holy one
Path that leads to the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
Back when I was younger I swore I would remember
Swore I would remember the miracle of life
Miracle of life, a precious gift from the holy one
Precious gift from the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
When I'm with my friends and my family my heart could fill to bursting
Heart could fill to bursting when I'm dancing in their light
Dancing in their light, a reflection of the holy one
Reflection of the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
I love the little children, their hearts are truly innocent
Hearts are truly innocent, their spirit's full of joy
Spirit's full of joy because they're so close to the holy one
So close to the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
We're standing on the shoulders of the ones who came before us
The ones who came before us, they planted the seeds
Planted the seeds, asking blessings from the holy one
Blessings from the holy one
Circle round the sun and the day is done yeah
Circle round the sun and the day is done
-----------------------------------------------
Feeling pretty good about things, and for no good reason, which seems like a good thing. I do believe that the judgment piece has been quite the hindrance over the years, in many ways. (if I were to judge, that is). OK wise-ass take a break from the 'clever' for just a minute. I've been a hyper critical person over the years, directing the beam of analysis both inward and outward, and I'm feeling that it would be a good thing to give it a rest, be more accepting of myself and others, lighten up the critique and see what, if anything, happens as a result.
I met this young American guy in Thailand, sensational guitar player, travels around the world and records videos of himself performing songs at the Pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, the beaches of Southern Thailand etc. Great player, very self involved, ego very prominent and it all feels kind of 'young' to me. I'm not really judging now, just sensing something that I can relate to. He's been in this rage about some people criticizing him for playing covers, and he's been spewing lots of vitriol about how they're so stupid and he's gonna show them how wrong they are, meanwhile, please watch my videos.... It's a turn-off, and I imagine that over the years, people have had that same reaction to me and my own little superiority number. Fuck, I'd have that same reaction to me and some of my 'artiste' moments. So this guy is providing a good mirror.
Contrast that with people like the Dalai Lama and other wise ones. In my mind, they have the ability to non-judgmentally view the world and its inhabitants as part of a great process. I obviously can't speak for the Dalai Lama, but I have a sense that he would see people in terms of their path toward wisdom. If there are disagreements, it's possible to leave out the judgment and the passion. Just see and sense and keep the center. (and breathe)
I had an experience at the age of twenty, when I was bombing around Mexico for the first time, and I ended up in Agua Azul, a tiny pueblo in Chiapas. It was something of a gringo destination, as there was an incredible tropical river that cascaded through the forest there. It was a tiny settlement, one little store, 10 or 20 indigenous families and maybe twenty gringos camping along the river. I remember this one day when an American guy chopped down a bunch of bananas which he assumed were ripe, but were actually inedible and green. He had no business stealing food from a population that was struggling to survive on beans and tortillas and a little bit of fruit, and the fact that the bananas were now just going to go to waste only added to the wrongness of his act.
One of the elders of the village 'Don Juan' saw this unfold and rather than berate the young man, he just seemed to have a stoic understanding of the situation. He told the guy that the bananas were unripe, didn't raise his voice, said few words, and there was a look in his eye that took it all in without a lot of judgment, even though this was food for his village and some interloper had wasted it. Me, I was furious with the guy, thinking he was a moron, yet the man who was truly affected by the situation showed none of that anger. I would like to aspire to Don Juan's level of understanding and grace. Less judgment and loathing, more gratitude and joy... (and no, I still can't remember it without referring back.... This is fascinating to me, the concept is having a hard time taking root.
Cheep cheep cheep
I'm being frugal these days, trying to keep a close eye on my expenditures, as I'm still oriented to the idea of taking off for SE Asia in November. Well, I suppose I could be more frugal, turn off the land line, but that's the one that's out there in the world as far as getting me gigs, so I think I need to bite the bullet there. But as far as going out for dinners or spending money on entertainment, I'm playing it tight to the vest.
How then is it possible for me to have seen two great, and big ticket shows within the last ten days? Last week I saw the touring production of Wicked, which was fantastic. And last night I saw Johnny Clegg and his band at the Shedd Auditorium in downtown Eugene, another wonderful show. Total face value of the tickets was $120, and I paid a total of $20.
I was downtown picking up my mail at the Post Office when I saw a big crowd heading into the Hult Center. I asked what was going on, and found out that there was a matinee of Wicked starting in about half an hour. My immediate thought was that I could find a way to sneak in. I rarely think in those terms, but that was my first reaction when I saw all these groups of seniors and high school kids showing up en masse. I went into the lobby to survey the scene, hung out near 'will call' and even went up to a guy I kinda know who was working the booth to ask if there were any freebies. No luck there, but I did find someone who was leading a seniors group outing, and he was trying to unload a couple of unused tickets for half price ($35). A friend of mine actually bought one of the tickets but I held out and kept looking around.
Just before the show was to begin and the last stragglers were making their way into the theater, I offered the guy $20 for the seat. The thing is, I had no attachment to going, so there was no need to have a back and forth negotiation. It was more a case of 'do you want $20 for the seat?'. He took it and I made my way down to a great seat in the 10th row on the aisle, dressed in my workout clothes, but who cares, it's Eugene. Fantastic show, I had no idea that it was so good, and it was all the more sweet for having found a cheap way into a great seat.
Last night I called my friends Rob and Janice to say hey, and Janice mentioned that they were going to the Johnny Clegg show downtown. He's a great South African musician whom I had seen back in the 80s. Clegg is a white guitarist and songwriter about my age, who has always played in integrated bands, very progressive and a big star around the world. Not so much these days, but he's still got it, and what the heck, maybe I could find a way in. (This is my new theme apparently). I went down to the theater, looked around, saw one guy whose wife couldn't make it and he was trying to get $35 for the second row ticket. I said, no thanks, good luck. (I figured I'd do the last minute $20 offer if nothing else came along.
The crowd was definitely my peer group and it was good to see us out and about, rather than home on the couch, say. Some woman who I know very peripherally found out that I was without a ticket, and she mentioned that while she was picking hers up at will call, someone handed in two tickets, saying 'give them to the next person who shows up looking for a ticket'. I made a dash to the booth, quietly said that I had heard there were a couple of free ones that had just been donated, and asked if I could have one. The woman handed me a ticket, and I got the feeling that she likely wouldn't have given it away unless someone knew it was there. I could see someone showing up to buy a ticket and she'd have been happy to take the money. Can't blame her, but I was in the right place at the right time, so I got to see and dance to a great show for free. Hmmmm I wonder what's playing tonight? (he said mischievously).
Am I proud of being a cheapskate? Not exactly, but maybe a little bit. It's just a new little wrinkle that I haven't experienced before, the idea of just showing up and seeing if there is a way in. cheep cheep cheep
How then is it possible for me to have seen two great, and big ticket shows within the last ten days? Last week I saw the touring production of Wicked, which was fantastic. And last night I saw Johnny Clegg and his band at the Shedd Auditorium in downtown Eugene, another wonderful show. Total face value of the tickets was $120, and I paid a total of $20.
I was downtown picking up my mail at the Post Office when I saw a big crowd heading into the Hult Center. I asked what was going on, and found out that there was a matinee of Wicked starting in about half an hour. My immediate thought was that I could find a way to sneak in. I rarely think in those terms, but that was my first reaction when I saw all these groups of seniors and high school kids showing up en masse. I went into the lobby to survey the scene, hung out near 'will call' and even went up to a guy I kinda know who was working the booth to ask if there were any freebies. No luck there, but I did find someone who was leading a seniors group outing, and he was trying to unload a couple of unused tickets for half price ($35). A friend of mine actually bought one of the tickets but I held out and kept looking around.
Just before the show was to begin and the last stragglers were making their way into the theater, I offered the guy $20 for the seat. The thing is, I had no attachment to going, so there was no need to have a back and forth negotiation. It was more a case of 'do you want $20 for the seat?'. He took it and I made my way down to a great seat in the 10th row on the aisle, dressed in my workout clothes, but who cares, it's Eugene. Fantastic show, I had no idea that it was so good, and it was all the more sweet for having found a cheap way into a great seat.
Last night I called my friends Rob and Janice to say hey, and Janice mentioned that they were going to the Johnny Clegg show downtown. He's a great South African musician whom I had seen back in the 80s. Clegg is a white guitarist and songwriter about my age, who has always played in integrated bands, very progressive and a big star around the world. Not so much these days, but he's still got it, and what the heck, maybe I could find a way in. (This is my new theme apparently). I went down to the theater, looked around, saw one guy whose wife couldn't make it and he was trying to get $35 for the second row ticket. I said, no thanks, good luck. (I figured I'd do the last minute $20 offer if nothing else came along.
The crowd was definitely my peer group and it was good to see us out and about, rather than home on the couch, say. Some woman who I know very peripherally found out that I was without a ticket, and she mentioned that while she was picking hers up at will call, someone handed in two tickets, saying 'give them to the next person who shows up looking for a ticket'. I made a dash to the booth, quietly said that I had heard there were a couple of free ones that had just been donated, and asked if I could have one. The woman handed me a ticket, and I got the feeling that she likely wouldn't have given it away unless someone knew it was there. I could see someone showing up to buy a ticket and she'd have been happy to take the money. Can't blame her, but I was in the right place at the right time, so I got to see and dance to a great show for free. Hmmmm I wonder what's playing tonight? (he said mischievously).
Am I proud of being a cheapskate? Not exactly, but maybe a little bit. It's just a new little wrinkle that I haven't experienced before, the idea of just showing up and seeing if there is a way in. cheep cheep cheep
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