I got a dose of 'the man with no shoes was feeling sorry for himself... until he saw the man with no feet' last night. I had spent the day kind of feeling sorry for myself, down on myself, sick of my ruts, when I went over for my weekly trip to the Blues Jam. And there I got the message that hey dude, chill out, don't you realize how lucky you are? I got it in back-to-back installments, the first from Candyce, who had just spent the past two days with a dying woman. Candyce is a hospice volunteer and she is spending time with someone whose candle is nearly extinguished.
So she was in a bit of an altered state and was incredibly aware of the gift of health and vibrancy and breathing and strength. And I'm like, oh yeah, I remember. Soon after our conversation, I talked with a new friend Rico, from Argentina, who commutes between Minnesota and Oregon. He was in love with the Oregon winter (the one that we all whine about) because compared to winter in Minnesota, this is heaven. Same story, appreciate what you have because it could be so much worse. Thank you, teachers, I got it.
Seriously bleary, really, Dr Leary. I'm waking up this morning with a headache which I will immediately 'treat' with three ibuprofen and a cup of delicious iced coffee. And then rather than putter around before dance class (at 8:30), I'll sit here at the computer and open up a vein, see if there is something waiting to emerge. And the subtext of whatever I write is that by the time I get up and showered and out the door, I'll bet that my head will feel better. So there is some kind of calculus involving meandering thoughts, molecules of ibuprofen in an iced coffee solution and 'radons' of headachiness. I wonder if there is a word for degrees of headache. No I won't try and Google that... I know a blind alley when I stumble into one... But I'll have in the back of my mind the idea of headache giving way into the new day.
I had a really good time making music last night at a potluck for the Temple Beth Israel preschool. My old friend Carole Diller is the director of the school and we go back to 1984 when she arrived in town. I had been here for about a year at that point, and she said last night that the first time she set foot in the synagogue, there was this guy playing piano, and she thought, 'hmm, this feels pretty cool'. Of course that 'guy' was supposed to be mopping the floor or some other task at the time, as he was the janitor for a brief period, but I guess 'he' preferred to jam on the piano rather than sweep up. (but I digress.... and I digressed). Carol took over the preschool directorship that year and immediately boosted into a prominent position in the community, and she's been running it pretty much ever since, now in the new building.
Last night she brought me in to do a 'family singalong' as part of the potluck, so that was the plan. But of course, little kids have a very short attention span for any one activity, so I would have to mix it up, keep it moving, get them active, use some tricks etc in order to hold their attention. And I gave them something I'm pretty proud of, even if it only earned me $50. I suppose it's yet another in the long line of examples in which money and satisfaction don't necessarily coexist on the same graph. (perhaps that's the 'Rich Glauber' calculus) he said with a slightly rueful smile.
I got some very nice compliments after the performance, but the one that sticks came from one of the young preschool teachers who said, 'I can't believe how they will do every thing you say. If I were to try and get them to stop playing at the count of 4, I know that lots of them wouldn't do it, or wouldn't hear me' She was talking about crowd control, and maybe I'll write a little bit about that, as it is a crucial aspect of making a show work out well.
Crowd control sounds vaguely military and hard handed, and there is some aspect of that at work, but only when necessary. Far more important is logistics and setting the scene for success. I emailed Carole the day of the show to find out what she was looking for, and where was the event going to take place. Was it going to be in the preschool or the sanctuary or the social hall? I need to know these things so I can visualize what I need to do. She told me that she billed my part as a family sing-along, and that it was going to be in the social hall. (the cavernous and cold social hall, by the way). She would ask the synagogue to set up the PA system for me if I needed to use it.
My original plan was to go to a Zumba class and leave just a little bit before the end to rush over to the synagogue and do the gig, but I decided I didn't want to do that, be all sweaty and rushed. This decision was made a little easier when my friend Jack invited me for a round of disc golf in the afternoon, so I felt like my body got what it needed as far as exercise, and I didn't have to dance. That gave me more time to prepare, and it also enabled me to go and hang out with the families, get to know them a bit, get some suggestions for songs that they love etc. I've been mostly absent from the synagogue over the past couple of years, and there is always a new crew of kids coming up through the ranks. So it was nice to visit, learn some names and make some connections.
I had what I thought was a great idea, so I enlisted seven or eight kids to help me by rolling the spinet piano out of the sanctuary and into place in the social hall. Kids are really wanting to have a role, and of course they were happy to help and it was really cute to see them moving the piano, working together, carrying the bench etc. I figured that it would give them some ownership of the music, and that when, during the show, I asked everyone to come stand around the piano, they would be more inclined to do so. I had it in my head to share the idea that before video games and TV, people used to gather around the piano and sing together. It worked beautifully.
The PA was set up on the west side of the building, and I've done some events from over there and it always felt wrong. (Funky Shui, as I like to call it, instead of feng shui). I looked around and decided that the best place to do this event would be on the east side, in a little corner made by the cabinet that holds the prayer books. Carole had brought down a nice carpet for the kids to play legos on, so I asked my piano movers to bring the carpet into place near that little nook. We set up a cozy little spot and I invited everyone to come on over, kids on the floor, parents on chairs around the outside of the carpet. It was comfortable, and it was a venue that could work for this kind of gig. And now for the military touch...
One of the kids, Ari (who I've known for ever) was still finishing his ice cream so he wanted to sit in a chair. 'I'm a grown-up' he said. (he's 8 years old, the older brother of Joseph and Shira who go to the preschool). Another of the older boys decided he wanted to be in a chair also. I said all kids on the floor, and I was on the floor too. I said, Ari, finish your ice cream and sit down here with us, and my tone was such that he knew that I meant it, and that I wasn't going to start the show until we were all ready. He and the other guy quickly complied and the moment passed by without much notice, but to me, it was absolutely crucial to establish that little bit of authority right at the beginning. If I had let the older kids sit in chairs, then some of the other kids would want to do the same thing and it just wouldn't work as well. I have some ego and power tripping energy around this little interaction, and I've been around long enough to know that 'this is the work, this is the hard part', because once I get people in place for an event, I know that I can keep it going great. The hard part is getting the stage set properly.
It's no different than trying to have a 'moment' at a party. Let's say there is a gathering of friends to honor someone or to celebrate someone's event. When adults get together, they slip into conversational mode, chatter chatter, blah blah, the music is on in the background and everything is normal. But to change from that scene into the focused scene is often difficult. Some people are threatened by having to be quiet and in a larger group. Or maybe they're not threatened, but they want to keep blabbing and don't want to give up their autonomy. I've always felt that it was my job to create the group moment. It was my job to wrangle the unwilling into a different mind-set, to deal with the resistance and use my will to set the scene. To channel my 'inner Mussolini' and make the trains run on time?
So that little moment in which I insisted that the boys sit on the floor with everyone else feels important to me. Once they're on board and we're all together, than good things will ensue. Which they did. I feel like if I had let them do what they wanted instead of what I asked, it just wouldn't have been as positive an experience. Ditto for the parents coming to join us as one group. People have a tendency to want to do their own thing, sit back and shmooze while the kids are being 'entertained', and I try to encourage them in the nicest way to join us, be part of it, it's good for the kids etc. It's 'the work'. And everyone was on board, gracias a dios.
It was a great 40 minutes of music and community. I got to break out some of the Jewish material that I don't often do. I started with 'Here we go cheerio' which is a tune that I borrowed and then wrote a bunch of comedy lyrics for about a cat and dog going into the synagogue. Sample lyric... 'outside the door, they tried to press the buzzer, That's no doorbell, That's the mezuzah! The cat tried to pray but she didn't know how, when the people sang 'shema', she said, 'meow'.
I sang 'You'll sing a song' by Ella Jenkins, and I've been using that one for decades now to open up a little kid show. Great song and I get different voices going from the kids and a little movement too. We did '5 Little Martians', which is something I wrote as a pre-literacy rhyme with body motions. I told the story of Ezzie the Klutz about the kid who is clumsy but ends up teaching the community about how to really celebrate in the synagogue. We sang around the piano and that was awesome. We did 'Side By Side' and 'You are my sunshine', and it ended with a big marching version of McNamara's Band, and yeah, the kids stopped playing when I said the number 4. They also skipped around the social hall with instruments and returned for the big finale. It was just great! We could have done more, they were totally with me, but it was a school night, and sometimes less is more so that was that. And my headache is gone.... Time to shower and dance...
I had a really good time making music last night at a potluck for the Temple Beth Israel preschool. My old friend Carole Diller is the director of the school and we go back to 1984 when she arrived in town. I had been here for about a year at that point, and she said last night that the first time she set foot in the synagogue, there was this guy playing piano, and she thought, 'hmm, this feels pretty cool'. Of course that 'guy' was supposed to be mopping the floor or some other task at the time, as he was the janitor for a brief period, but I guess 'he' preferred to jam on the piano rather than sweep up. (but I digress.... and I digressed). Carol took over the preschool directorship that year and immediately boosted into a prominent position in the community, and she's been running it pretty much ever since, now in the new building.
Last night she brought me in to do a 'family singalong' as part of the potluck, so that was the plan. But of course, little kids have a very short attention span for any one activity, so I would have to mix it up, keep it moving, get them active, use some tricks etc in order to hold their attention. And I gave them something I'm pretty proud of, even if it only earned me $50. I suppose it's yet another in the long line of examples in which money and satisfaction don't necessarily coexist on the same graph. (perhaps that's the 'Rich Glauber' calculus) he said with a slightly rueful smile.
I got some very nice compliments after the performance, but the one that sticks came from one of the young preschool teachers who said, 'I can't believe how they will do every thing you say. If I were to try and get them to stop playing at the count of 4, I know that lots of them wouldn't do it, or wouldn't hear me' She was talking about crowd control, and maybe I'll write a little bit about that, as it is a crucial aspect of making a show work out well.
Crowd control sounds vaguely military and hard handed, and there is some aspect of that at work, but only when necessary. Far more important is logistics and setting the scene for success. I emailed Carole the day of the show to find out what she was looking for, and where was the event going to take place. Was it going to be in the preschool or the sanctuary or the social hall? I need to know these things so I can visualize what I need to do. She told me that she billed my part as a family sing-along, and that it was going to be in the social hall. (the cavernous and cold social hall, by the way). She would ask the synagogue to set up the PA system for me if I needed to use it.
My original plan was to go to a Zumba class and leave just a little bit before the end to rush over to the synagogue and do the gig, but I decided I didn't want to do that, be all sweaty and rushed. This decision was made a little easier when my friend Jack invited me for a round of disc golf in the afternoon, so I felt like my body got what it needed as far as exercise, and I didn't have to dance. That gave me more time to prepare, and it also enabled me to go and hang out with the families, get to know them a bit, get some suggestions for songs that they love etc. I've been mostly absent from the synagogue over the past couple of years, and there is always a new crew of kids coming up through the ranks. So it was nice to visit, learn some names and make some connections.
I had what I thought was a great idea, so I enlisted seven or eight kids to help me by rolling the spinet piano out of the sanctuary and into place in the social hall. Kids are really wanting to have a role, and of course they were happy to help and it was really cute to see them moving the piano, working together, carrying the bench etc. I figured that it would give them some ownership of the music, and that when, during the show, I asked everyone to come stand around the piano, they would be more inclined to do so. I had it in my head to share the idea that before video games and TV, people used to gather around the piano and sing together. It worked beautifully.
The PA was set up on the west side of the building, and I've done some events from over there and it always felt wrong. (Funky Shui, as I like to call it, instead of feng shui). I looked around and decided that the best place to do this event would be on the east side, in a little corner made by the cabinet that holds the prayer books. Carole had brought down a nice carpet for the kids to play legos on, so I asked my piano movers to bring the carpet into place near that little nook. We set up a cozy little spot and I invited everyone to come on over, kids on the floor, parents on chairs around the outside of the carpet. It was comfortable, and it was a venue that could work for this kind of gig. And now for the military touch...
One of the kids, Ari (who I've known for ever) was still finishing his ice cream so he wanted to sit in a chair. 'I'm a grown-up' he said. (he's 8 years old, the older brother of Joseph and Shira who go to the preschool). Another of the older boys decided he wanted to be in a chair also. I said all kids on the floor, and I was on the floor too. I said, Ari, finish your ice cream and sit down here with us, and my tone was such that he knew that I meant it, and that I wasn't going to start the show until we were all ready. He and the other guy quickly complied and the moment passed by without much notice, but to me, it was absolutely crucial to establish that little bit of authority right at the beginning. If I had let the older kids sit in chairs, then some of the other kids would want to do the same thing and it just wouldn't work as well. I have some ego and power tripping energy around this little interaction, and I've been around long enough to know that 'this is the work, this is the hard part', because once I get people in place for an event, I know that I can keep it going great. The hard part is getting the stage set properly.
It's no different than trying to have a 'moment' at a party. Let's say there is a gathering of friends to honor someone or to celebrate someone's event. When adults get together, they slip into conversational mode, chatter chatter, blah blah, the music is on in the background and everything is normal. But to change from that scene into the focused scene is often difficult. Some people are threatened by having to be quiet and in a larger group. Or maybe they're not threatened, but they want to keep blabbing and don't want to give up their autonomy. I've always felt that it was my job to create the group moment. It was my job to wrangle the unwilling into a different mind-set, to deal with the resistance and use my will to set the scene. To channel my 'inner Mussolini' and make the trains run on time?
So that little moment in which I insisted that the boys sit on the floor with everyone else feels important to me. Once they're on board and we're all together, than good things will ensue. Which they did. I feel like if I had let them do what they wanted instead of what I asked, it just wouldn't have been as positive an experience. Ditto for the parents coming to join us as one group. People have a tendency to want to do their own thing, sit back and shmooze while the kids are being 'entertained', and I try to encourage them in the nicest way to join us, be part of it, it's good for the kids etc. It's 'the work'. And everyone was on board, gracias a dios.
It was a great 40 minutes of music and community. I got to break out some of the Jewish material that I don't often do. I started with 'Here we go cheerio' which is a tune that I borrowed and then wrote a bunch of comedy lyrics for about a cat and dog going into the synagogue. Sample lyric... 'outside the door, they tried to press the buzzer, That's no doorbell, That's the mezuzah! The cat tried to pray but she didn't know how, when the people sang 'shema', she said, 'meow'.
I sang 'You'll sing a song' by Ella Jenkins, and I've been using that one for decades now to open up a little kid show. Great song and I get different voices going from the kids and a little movement too. We did '5 Little Martians', which is something I wrote as a pre-literacy rhyme with body motions. I told the story of Ezzie the Klutz about the kid who is clumsy but ends up teaching the community about how to really celebrate in the synagogue. We sang around the piano and that was awesome. We did 'Side By Side' and 'You are my sunshine', and it ended with a big marching version of McNamara's Band, and yeah, the kids stopped playing when I said the number 4. They also skipped around the social hall with instruments and returned for the big finale. It was just great! We could have done more, they were totally with me, but it was a school night, and sometimes less is more so that was that. And my headache is gone.... Time to shower and dance...
Song and Dance Man
I just spent the past hour or so working on some piano stuff, actually practicing, although like most things in my life, it's not the most consistent or strategic form of practice. My style is to play music, try to inspire myself, not with a highly disciplined approach (that would certainly yield better results, if one were to operate that way), but I'm seemingly oriented toward a more 'flit around' approach. (insert joke here).
And at the moment, I'm not really interested in trying to change that, because that would imply that there's something wrong with me. Of course, there is plenty wrong with me, but there's plenty right also, so I feel like hanging out there for awhile. And one of the things that is clearly right is this ability to make music come alive in the moment, like I've just been doing for the past hour.
It's kind of a miracle to tap into that force, to string some chords and melodies together, add a perky rhythm, and it's party time. There's a deep mystery underneath the happy sounds, and I'm blessed to be able to visit that place pretty much whenever I want to. One of the nicest compliments I ever received was from a woman who I met on a camping trip in the Washington Cascades. The group was partying hard (once the kids went to sleep) and we were making hours of music around the campfire, making up songs, cracking each other up, having a ball. She said to me, 'the chemistry changes when you play music'. She said it in comparison to when most people pick up a guitar and play a singalong. We know that scene, sometimes it's fun, sometimes not, just a guy and a guitar.
When I play, it's more of an incantation then a song. I do it for some deeper reason than just singing a song start to finish. I think of it as an invitation, maybe an initiation, because we are entering into sacred time and space every time we strap on. That's how I feel about it. And it's not about the 'beauty of the music' or the quality of the performance. That's for other people to pursue. I'm into the moment, into the .... what's that word that I can't think of? It's like when the Catholics line up to eat the wafer. It's not a consecration, but it's a word like that, I think it starts with a C.
We have the potential for the deepest kind of sharing when we enter into the music place. That's why I often will stop a song in the middle, have people fill in the missing words, invite their voice into the moment, so that suddenly, music isn't just another thing that we do for a few minutes, it's something that's totally live and unpredictable and possibly magical. That possibility is always present, like it is everywhere in life if we are attuned. Me, I get attuned in a musical way, that's my metier and I rhymed it that way. OK?
I'm still trying to think of that word, and I'm getting closer. It's the same word that is the agreement between Abraham and God. It's the same word as the agreement between Jews and the creator to circumcise their little boys at the age of 8 days because it represents that 'C word' between them. Do I have to Google it? No, I'll get it, and in the meantime I'll get some mental exercise of trying to root it out of my brain. (Hey, it's Monday and I don't do the Monday crossword, so I'll get the same stimulation this way). It's more than a collaboration.... it's a C C C what the fuck is it? (he said jovially) It's not a congress... OK let's define it, maybe that's more important than the word itself (he said, hopefully, trying not to think about if this is the first hint that he might be slipping into dementia because he can't think of a word)
I'm talking about a process of giving between people, in which the magic only happens when everyone contributes. It's one of those situations where the whole is more than the sum of the parts. When the music is really on, when the chemistry is really altered is when there is an unspoken sense of wonderment and magic and 'the moment'. I always want to come back to that concept. It's that indescribable, holy place outside of time and space. It's the 'moment'. That's where I have my closest 'God' experiences.
And I couldn't stand not knowing the word anymore, so I Googled the term Brit Mila which is the Hebrew expression for circumcision. And the word is 'Covenant'. Let's look that one up, senor Google. Aside from the legalistic meanings about a solemn agreement between two parties to do such and such, there is this more prosaic meaning that is the fifth one down the list:
(Biblical) God's promise to humanity after the Flood, symbolized by the rainbow.
I like the rainbow in there, as that feels akin to what I'm attempting to describe. When I do music, the intention is to make that sonic rainbow, but it only happens when there is some kind of tacit agreement that we are gonna go for it, not be cynical, not know all the answers, but be open to the magic. That's my invitation when I play, and I wouldn't have the temerity to call myself a shaman, I don't know enough about that (and I'd probably blow the training), but I do have some of that energy inside me that comes out in the musical moment.
OK blah blah blah, enough of that chatter. The real thing I want to get to is a new song that I've been thinking about for a few days, and got seriously started on today. It's called 'Song and Dance Man' and it's yet another of the old time swinging Americana grooves that I adore. I realized a few days ago that what I've become is a 'song and dance man', for good or for ill. I had that flash after spending Saturday night dancing with my friend Joanie down at the Vets Club. We've been doing it (dancing) for decades now, and are very comfortable with one another. She is such a tremendous friend, a great dancer and we have a ton of fun on the dance floor. And I danced a dance with a few other women as well, because at this point in my life, I know how to partner dance and it's great to be able to lead someone on the floor who doesn't really know how to dance, is very nervous about it, but she can have a good time because I know how to make her comfortable, let her feel the music and just have fun with it.
And as I was thinking about it, I realized that yeah, I've got a lot of hours into dancing, both in dance class and in the clubs. I'm no great dancer by any means, but I'm fun to dance with, and that's enough for me. It's a social skill like being a good conversationalist (check), and it gave me the thought that Holy Crap, the best definition for me is 'Song and Dance Man' with all that the term implies. I'm not entirely sure what all is implied in that old expression, but I have a sense of it, especially since I am it. A guy who's great at a party, maybe not so good at say, a mortgage. But I'm going to embrace it and write that song and celebrate the moments. And I've got some great energy coursing through right about now, perhaps the product of playing and writing this morning, maybe just being aligned with who I am. 'Song and Dance Man' (chuckle)
And at the moment, I'm not really interested in trying to change that, because that would imply that there's something wrong with me. Of course, there is plenty wrong with me, but there's plenty right also, so I feel like hanging out there for awhile. And one of the things that is clearly right is this ability to make music come alive in the moment, like I've just been doing for the past hour.
It's kind of a miracle to tap into that force, to string some chords and melodies together, add a perky rhythm, and it's party time. There's a deep mystery underneath the happy sounds, and I'm blessed to be able to visit that place pretty much whenever I want to. One of the nicest compliments I ever received was from a woman who I met on a camping trip in the Washington Cascades. The group was partying hard (once the kids went to sleep) and we were making hours of music around the campfire, making up songs, cracking each other up, having a ball. She said to me, 'the chemistry changes when you play music'. She said it in comparison to when most people pick up a guitar and play a singalong. We know that scene, sometimes it's fun, sometimes not, just a guy and a guitar.
When I play, it's more of an incantation then a song. I do it for some deeper reason than just singing a song start to finish. I think of it as an invitation, maybe an initiation, because we are entering into sacred time and space every time we strap on. That's how I feel about it. And it's not about the 'beauty of the music' or the quality of the performance. That's for other people to pursue. I'm into the moment, into the .... what's that word that I can't think of? It's like when the Catholics line up to eat the wafer. It's not a consecration, but it's a word like that, I think it starts with a C.
We have the potential for the deepest kind of sharing when we enter into the music place. That's why I often will stop a song in the middle, have people fill in the missing words, invite their voice into the moment, so that suddenly, music isn't just another thing that we do for a few minutes, it's something that's totally live and unpredictable and possibly magical. That possibility is always present, like it is everywhere in life if we are attuned. Me, I get attuned in a musical way, that's my metier and I rhymed it that way. OK?
I'm still trying to think of that word, and I'm getting closer. It's the same word that is the agreement between Abraham and God. It's the same word as the agreement between Jews and the creator to circumcise their little boys at the age of 8 days because it represents that 'C word' between them. Do I have to Google it? No, I'll get it, and in the meantime I'll get some mental exercise of trying to root it out of my brain. (Hey, it's Monday and I don't do the Monday crossword, so I'll get the same stimulation this way). It's more than a collaboration.... it's a C C C what the fuck is it? (he said jovially) It's not a congress... OK let's define it, maybe that's more important than the word itself (he said, hopefully, trying not to think about if this is the first hint that he might be slipping into dementia because he can't think of a word)
I'm talking about a process of giving between people, in which the magic only happens when everyone contributes. It's one of those situations where the whole is more than the sum of the parts. When the music is really on, when the chemistry is really altered is when there is an unspoken sense of wonderment and magic and 'the moment'. I always want to come back to that concept. It's that indescribable, holy place outside of time and space. It's the 'moment'. That's where I have my closest 'God' experiences.
And I couldn't stand not knowing the word anymore, so I Googled the term Brit Mila which is the Hebrew expression for circumcision. And the word is 'Covenant'. Let's look that one up, senor Google. Aside from the legalistic meanings about a solemn agreement between two parties to do such and such, there is this more prosaic meaning that is the fifth one down the list:
(Biblical) God's promise to humanity after the Flood, symbolized by the rainbow.
I like the rainbow in there, as that feels akin to what I'm attempting to describe. When I do music, the intention is to make that sonic rainbow, but it only happens when there is some kind of tacit agreement that we are gonna go for it, not be cynical, not know all the answers, but be open to the magic. That's my invitation when I play, and I wouldn't have the temerity to call myself a shaman, I don't know enough about that (and I'd probably blow the training), but I do have some of that energy inside me that comes out in the musical moment.
OK blah blah blah, enough of that chatter. The real thing I want to get to is a new song that I've been thinking about for a few days, and got seriously started on today. It's called 'Song and Dance Man' and it's yet another of the old time swinging Americana grooves that I adore. I realized a few days ago that what I've become is a 'song and dance man', for good or for ill. I had that flash after spending Saturday night dancing with my friend Joanie down at the Vets Club. We've been doing it (dancing) for decades now, and are very comfortable with one another. She is such a tremendous friend, a great dancer and we have a ton of fun on the dance floor. And I danced a dance with a few other women as well, because at this point in my life, I know how to partner dance and it's great to be able to lead someone on the floor who doesn't really know how to dance, is very nervous about it, but she can have a good time because I know how to make her comfortable, let her feel the music and just have fun with it.
And as I was thinking about it, I realized that yeah, I've got a lot of hours into dancing, both in dance class and in the clubs. I'm no great dancer by any means, but I'm fun to dance with, and that's enough for me. It's a social skill like being a good conversationalist (check), and it gave me the thought that Holy Crap, the best definition for me is 'Song and Dance Man' with all that the term implies. I'm not entirely sure what all is implied in that old expression, but I have a sense of it, especially since I am it. A guy who's great at a party, maybe not so good at say, a mortgage. But I'm going to embrace it and write that song and celebrate the moments. And I've got some great energy coursing through right about now, perhaps the product of playing and writing this morning, maybe just being aligned with who I am. 'Song and Dance Man' (chuckle)
Howl
If for no other reason than I said I would, I guess I could, and I probably should.
There's a mouthful of innuendo, and it sums up the conflicted and nuanced nature of the artist as a not so young man. I'm not liking myself too much at the moment and I'm loathe to get into why that is so. Fuck all, haven't I been doing that for months now? (he said evasively)
I wish I had a quick fix, a better mix, some new tricks
I think I just got triggered now by accepting a gig which I don't particularly want to do, as it will be an unfocused gathering of too many little kids at some spring carnival in May. But the fucked up thing is not the gig itself, but the terrible fact that I should be delighted to do gigs like this and I would be if..... if.....
If I had the perfect CD to sell after the gig.... the one that has all the songs that they just heard and then mommy can spend $10 and take it home and play it for the little dude at nap time, and Richie can walk away from the gig some $300 richer instead of $75 richer, which is what I'm charging for the half hour.
OK, Glauber, the gig is 6 weeks away. You've already made a start on that CD a couple of years ago at Rob's studio, and if he can pull it up, it wouldn't take all that much to get it done. Get a little artwork together and voila, 'product' that people want. Then you could sell them at your little kid gigs and birthday parties and Family Music Time etc, and all those things would become profitable instead of a hassle. Um, one question, why are you so stupid? (he said smartly). What have you been waiting for?
This is kind of funny because solutions don't usually come when I'm pissed off at myself, but this is one time where it did come in that angry state. And the reason is because I continue to force myself to sit at the computer every day and try to express what is going on inside, even if I'm pissed off and frustrated, even if I have nothing to say, even if there's something in the way.
I do have a lot of pissed off energy coursing through tonight, might be one of those nights to bundle up and take the Dostoevsky walk through the dark town, put on my dark clothes, get out in the mist and be pissed, burn off some energy, hope that it feels better tomorrow. Howl at the moon Aaaaawooooooo
There's a mouthful of innuendo, and it sums up the conflicted and nuanced nature of the artist as a not so young man. I'm not liking myself too much at the moment and I'm loathe to get into why that is so. Fuck all, haven't I been doing that for months now? (he said evasively)
I wish I had a quick fix, a better mix, some new tricks
I think I just got triggered now by accepting a gig which I don't particularly want to do, as it will be an unfocused gathering of too many little kids at some spring carnival in May. But the fucked up thing is not the gig itself, but the terrible fact that I should be delighted to do gigs like this and I would be if..... if.....
If I had the perfect CD to sell after the gig.... the one that has all the songs that they just heard and then mommy can spend $10 and take it home and play it for the little dude at nap time, and Richie can walk away from the gig some $300 richer instead of $75 richer, which is what I'm charging for the half hour.
OK, Glauber, the gig is 6 weeks away. You've already made a start on that CD a couple of years ago at Rob's studio, and if he can pull it up, it wouldn't take all that much to get it done. Get a little artwork together and voila, 'product' that people want. Then you could sell them at your little kid gigs and birthday parties and Family Music Time etc, and all those things would become profitable instead of a hassle. Um, one question, why are you so stupid? (he said smartly). What have you been waiting for?
This is kind of funny because solutions don't usually come when I'm pissed off at myself, but this is one time where it did come in that angry state. And the reason is because I continue to force myself to sit at the computer every day and try to express what is going on inside, even if I'm pissed off and frustrated, even if I have nothing to say, even if there's something in the way.
I do have a lot of pissed off energy coursing through tonight, might be one of those nights to bundle up and take the Dostoevsky walk through the dark town, put on my dark clothes, get out in the mist and be pissed, burn off some energy, hope that it feels better tomorrow. Howl at the moon Aaaaawooooooo
Old time music...
Saturday morning, 10:45, with no impulse to write save the impulse to stay with the program and keep to that particular discipline which has been serving me well. I'm also disciplined these days in getting my workouts in, riding the bike, getting to dance class etc. I don't have a lot of work this week, but at least I'm keeping active in body and mind. So no complaints.
Yesterday I got an audition, based on my phone calls of the day before, to go and play some music at a home for memory patients that's on the west side of town. I had thought I was just going to meet the director at 2pm, but when I got there, I saw that a whole crowd was gathered and that I was going to do a freebie. That's fine, no big deal, so off I went.
Interestingly, I was a tad late, two minutes maybe, due to hitting every traffic light and getting behind some terrible drivers, and I was cursing and impatient most of the way there. It's one of those things that happen from time to time, I'm running late, I shouldn't be driving anyway, as I could have put my guitar on my back and used the bike, but Tiger Woods was rolling at the Masters, and I wanted to see him play one more hole. (Yep, it's hard to not watch the Masters). So there I am running late, pissed off at the world, even making a wrong turn, so by the time I arrived at 2:02pm, I was in a lousy mood. And as I walked up to the house, the thought occurred to me, 'Can I go ahead and play music as if nothing had happened and I were in a great mood?' I figured that the answer would be 'yes', and sure enough, that's what happened.
It's fascinating how that happens, and it's certainly not the first time. I can remember a number of occasions when I was working with kids and I just did not have the energy. 'How can I get out of this?' I would think to myself. Then the class shows up, and I'm immediately transported into another dimension and my own little mind trips melt away immediately, as if they were a figment of my imagination (which they were, of course). Yesterday was one more example of that phenomenon.
I walked in, met the director, Arliss, and she brought me to the parlor, in which about twenty folks were waiting for the music to start. There was a spinet piano at one end of the room, bright sound, pretty much in tune, and I had my guitar along as well. The group was a mix of old timers and younger folks, who all had some kind of brain thing going that required them to be living in this nice lock up. I did my thing, interacted well, got some laughs, took requests, and of course it was successful. There were a bunch of singers in this group, so it was a very fun experience to make the music come alive.
Arliss has this philosophy that the residents themselves get to vote on who they want to have come and entertain, and I hadn't heard that before, though it makes total sense. They liked country music, so I'll need to learn some more Eddie Arnold and classic stuff like that. They enjoyed having me there, and now they'll be in my book for a gig per month, first Thursday of the month at 2pm. It's only $50, but if I were to have twenty of them per month, that's a thousand bucks per month of fun public service in the early afternoons. I enjoy each and every one of those old-timer gigs, and it's good for both my repertoire and my music practice. So I will keep adding them to the book.
Am I sick of working with kids? Not exactly, but I definitely feel the movement toward the senior set. It's like a get to do a history lesson every time out; I get to play Gershwin and Berlin and Porter and country and western songs for people who grew up on that music (like I did). It's just better stuff to play, traveling around the circle of fifths, getting jazzy and bluesy. And often, when people are losing their memory, the old songs are the last things to go, so there is a lot of satisfaction and success that they can feel when they remember the words and the good times. It's all positive on those gigs, so it's no wonder that I'm moving in that direction.
And sometimes I marvel about 'how did this happen?'. How is it that I turned into the guy who plays like it's 1935 and does the razzamatazz and the old time hidey ho here in 2011. I think about growing up in New York, kind of immersed in that world of show tunes and Tin Pan Alley, even though I was a generation or two removed from it. I wish I could go back and hear my grandfather play those songs again on the piano, because I know he could teach me some things, some songs I wasn't familiar with etc. It's a New York legacy somehow, like hearing "Heart and Soul" on the piano every time you went to a place with kids and a piano. It's just ground zero (if you'll pardon the expression.
Last year I was driving around south Florida with my dad in his Caddy, and he's listening to the oldies station, mostly big band stuff. And it occurred to me that out of a hundred people in my age group, I'm likely one of the only ones who would think it's cool to listen to that music. We came up on the Beatles and Stones, the Who and the Jefferson Airplane, and most of us thought that the music of the thirties and forties was not worth listening to. I was definitely into rock when I was a kid, and God knows I still love the Beatles, but the stuff that came before is just great, and the older i get, the more I love to swing.
It's about craft, how to turn a phrase, how to guide the music into a satisfying journey, how to explore different sounds and then bring it back around to the top. Those are the skills that interest me and that make me want to go and create something new, even though it sounds old. I should probably put out an album of the songs I've written in that old time style. And what makes the old time style? In a word, I'd say it's the diminished chord. Let's see, here is a list of my grown-up songs that are kind of old school.
If I told you that I love you
When I was ready for you
Sweet as cherry pie
All I want this holiday...
One little glance
Because I want you
Friends
American song
The older I get (the more I got to swing)
Talent show
Sentimental me
Saturday Market
That's an album's worth right there. I don't know who would buy it, but if I record it, then at least it will outlive me. Got that, Rashid? This is part of your father's creative output, and maybe you could share it with my grandchildren. Keep the circle going...
Yesterday I got an audition, based on my phone calls of the day before, to go and play some music at a home for memory patients that's on the west side of town. I had thought I was just going to meet the director at 2pm, but when I got there, I saw that a whole crowd was gathered and that I was going to do a freebie. That's fine, no big deal, so off I went.
Interestingly, I was a tad late, two minutes maybe, due to hitting every traffic light and getting behind some terrible drivers, and I was cursing and impatient most of the way there. It's one of those things that happen from time to time, I'm running late, I shouldn't be driving anyway, as I could have put my guitar on my back and used the bike, but Tiger Woods was rolling at the Masters, and I wanted to see him play one more hole. (Yep, it's hard to not watch the Masters). So there I am running late, pissed off at the world, even making a wrong turn, so by the time I arrived at 2:02pm, I was in a lousy mood. And as I walked up to the house, the thought occurred to me, 'Can I go ahead and play music as if nothing had happened and I were in a great mood?' I figured that the answer would be 'yes', and sure enough, that's what happened.
It's fascinating how that happens, and it's certainly not the first time. I can remember a number of occasions when I was working with kids and I just did not have the energy. 'How can I get out of this?' I would think to myself. Then the class shows up, and I'm immediately transported into another dimension and my own little mind trips melt away immediately, as if they were a figment of my imagination (which they were, of course). Yesterday was one more example of that phenomenon.
I walked in, met the director, Arliss, and she brought me to the parlor, in which about twenty folks were waiting for the music to start. There was a spinet piano at one end of the room, bright sound, pretty much in tune, and I had my guitar along as well. The group was a mix of old timers and younger folks, who all had some kind of brain thing going that required them to be living in this nice lock up. I did my thing, interacted well, got some laughs, took requests, and of course it was successful. There were a bunch of singers in this group, so it was a very fun experience to make the music come alive.
Arliss has this philosophy that the residents themselves get to vote on who they want to have come and entertain, and I hadn't heard that before, though it makes total sense. They liked country music, so I'll need to learn some more Eddie Arnold and classic stuff like that. They enjoyed having me there, and now they'll be in my book for a gig per month, first Thursday of the month at 2pm. It's only $50, but if I were to have twenty of them per month, that's a thousand bucks per month of fun public service in the early afternoons. I enjoy each and every one of those old-timer gigs, and it's good for both my repertoire and my music practice. So I will keep adding them to the book.
Am I sick of working with kids? Not exactly, but I definitely feel the movement toward the senior set. It's like a get to do a history lesson every time out; I get to play Gershwin and Berlin and Porter and country and western songs for people who grew up on that music (like I did). It's just better stuff to play, traveling around the circle of fifths, getting jazzy and bluesy. And often, when people are losing their memory, the old songs are the last things to go, so there is a lot of satisfaction and success that they can feel when they remember the words and the good times. It's all positive on those gigs, so it's no wonder that I'm moving in that direction.
And sometimes I marvel about 'how did this happen?'. How is it that I turned into the guy who plays like it's 1935 and does the razzamatazz and the old time hidey ho here in 2011. I think about growing up in New York, kind of immersed in that world of show tunes and Tin Pan Alley, even though I was a generation or two removed from it. I wish I could go back and hear my grandfather play those songs again on the piano, because I know he could teach me some things, some songs I wasn't familiar with etc. It's a New York legacy somehow, like hearing "Heart and Soul" on the piano every time you went to a place with kids and a piano. It's just ground zero (if you'll pardon the expression.
Last year I was driving around south Florida with my dad in his Caddy, and he's listening to the oldies station, mostly big band stuff. And it occurred to me that out of a hundred people in my age group, I'm likely one of the only ones who would think it's cool to listen to that music. We came up on the Beatles and Stones, the Who and the Jefferson Airplane, and most of us thought that the music of the thirties and forties was not worth listening to. I was definitely into rock when I was a kid, and God knows I still love the Beatles, but the stuff that came before is just great, and the older i get, the more I love to swing.
It's about craft, how to turn a phrase, how to guide the music into a satisfying journey, how to explore different sounds and then bring it back around to the top. Those are the skills that interest me and that make me want to go and create something new, even though it sounds old. I should probably put out an album of the songs I've written in that old time style. And what makes the old time style? In a word, I'd say it's the diminished chord. Let's see, here is a list of my grown-up songs that are kind of old school.
If I told you that I love you
When I was ready for you
Sweet as cherry pie
All I want this holiday...
One little glance
Because I want you
Friends
American song
The older I get (the more I got to swing)
Talent show
Sentimental me
Saturday Market
That's an album's worth right there. I don't know who would buy it, but if I record it, then at least it will outlive me. Got that, Rashid? This is part of your father's creative output, and maybe you could share it with my grandchildren. Keep the circle going...
Gray Giddy Gray OK
One more time to the well, chop wood, carry water, but only in the metaphoric sense because here in modern city life, even a baby boomer retirement hippiedrome like Eugene in 2011, the water comes out of the faucet and the heat emerges when I turn the dial. 'mo wonder I'm alienated' (he thought cynically, as he went to the refrigerator to pour a cup of sweetened iced coffee). I need something besides metaphoric tasks?
Well, that may be, as the cobwebs start to clear and the first sweet swallow makes it's way down my overfed gullet. Yeah, overfed is right, it's just too damn easy to eat in this culture, too much money, too much food combined with lack of exertion makes us pretty soft, I can feel the process happening, but I'm gonna fight it hard, keep using my bike and my body.
But still I have the pang of 'wouldn't it be nice to curl up and watch a basketball game on the couch, have some food and just get lost in the vicariousness' Damn it's powerful, and I haven't found a way past it, even though I know in my heart that my essence is other than that. I'm in the Stockholm Syndrome of modern life in which my captors become my safety net (allegedly). 'Oy' (he said, kvetchingly)
I had a little setback this week, nothing major, but it was certainly illustrative of my mindset. I had a date a week ago with that woman who I know from dance, and it was pleasant enough, a little guarded on her part, but that's appropriate. I'm more interested in my own behavior actually, she can do her thing any way that she wants. She likes me as a 'friend and dance partner' but is pretty clear that there will be no sexual energy between the two of us. We had a couple of emails back and forth after the date, and that's where I got this particular information.
The setback wasn't in being 'rejected' or anything like that, it was more about my giddy reaction to her resistance. Here's a woman who I'm kind of attracted to telling me that she's pretty clear that we're not going there. First thing I thought was 'oh, she's not totally clear', there is an opening. And I was reminded of the scene in Dunb and Dumber where the girl tells the guy it's a one in a billion chance that they'd ever go out, and he says, Aha, there's a chance, or something equally ridiculous. That was my reaction too, just like in the movie.
So I was both very understanding and relaxed about 'hey, whatever', but at the same time, there was some giddy energy about what I call 'the happiness of pursuit'. (see what I did there?' It's supposed to be the pursuit of happiness, but for me, it's flipped and I have this energy that simply loves the juxtaposition of a skeptical woman, and a charming man. It conforms to some deep seated paradigm that I carry around inside, and when the places are set, watch out, here comes the charm, or something like it. And along with the charm comes a feeling of well-being and energy and 'the world is green' and spring is in the air and Boom Boom Boom.
(sigh)
I wrote her back a kind of giddy email, one of those, 'sure let's just be friends, but let's go on a hike or something tomorrow', that was a lot of wordplay and over familiarity, and I'm guessing that she saw through the alleged 'friendship' and into the giddy seduction, yes I know I keep using the word 'giddy' but that's what it was, and I got an email back saying 'I can't hike tomorrow, thanks for the invitation'. It sure seemed like the 'blow off email' because that's about how I'd do it, were the situation reversed, so I felt the air go out of the balloon and felt like I was busted. This might be totally in my own mind, and I could be reading into the situation, but that doesn't really matter. I busted myself anyhow, and that's likely more important than knowing for sure whether she busted me.
The result of it, however, is that things are not so green, it's still cold, it's still me, there's no Boom Boom Boom, and I have to still make sense of my life outside of the giddy fix. It feels good to write about it, because there is some sense of well-being in simply describing that thing that happens. I guess it's that old saw about a reflective life, not that I can remember how it goes at this point. What the hell is it? (he thought, trying to turn his brain inside out to recall that saying about a life worth living is one of reflection, or something like that. That's not even close, I realize, but I'll find it. OK here it is, (thank you, Senor Google) 'The unexamined life is not worth living' (Socrates, at his trial for heresy).
The unexamined life is not worth living. And my brain immediately goes to the question, 'does that mean that the examined life is worth living'. That idea is implied, certainly, but does if follow logically? Then it gets into the territory of logic and the 'if P and not Q', type of analysis. I just wrote a good typo when I typed 'anarlysis', because, yeah, it's gnarly. But I digress (again) And I wrote 'bit I digress'. Yes Dr Freud, my mind is a fertile field of incongruity. By the way, I took a logic class in college and I really liked it, mostly because we learned about many fallacies that people use in conversation or argument, and this was during the Nixon administration with the likes of John Mitchell, H R Haldeman, Nixon and the other criminals going on TV day after day and spewing their garbage. I could sit back and say, "uh, Mr President, that's a 'false cause argument', or Mr Mitchell, you have equivocated, sir". It's true, those lying bastards were a gold mine of logical fallacy.
So what's the takeaway from this post? And the reason I ask is because I think I will start titling these posts at the end of the story, rather than the beginning. That way, it will be easier for me to remember them and go back and have a look at something I wrote in the past, using the title as a reference marker, rather than wading through miles of words. The takeaway from this visit is something like 'gray giddy gray, OK.
Well, that may be, as the cobwebs start to clear and the first sweet swallow makes it's way down my overfed gullet. Yeah, overfed is right, it's just too damn easy to eat in this culture, too much money, too much food combined with lack of exertion makes us pretty soft, I can feel the process happening, but I'm gonna fight it hard, keep using my bike and my body.
But still I have the pang of 'wouldn't it be nice to curl up and watch a basketball game on the couch, have some food and just get lost in the vicariousness' Damn it's powerful, and I haven't found a way past it, even though I know in my heart that my essence is other than that. I'm in the Stockholm Syndrome of modern life in which my captors become my safety net (allegedly). 'Oy' (he said, kvetchingly)
I had a little setback this week, nothing major, but it was certainly illustrative of my mindset. I had a date a week ago with that woman who I know from dance, and it was pleasant enough, a little guarded on her part, but that's appropriate. I'm more interested in my own behavior actually, she can do her thing any way that she wants. She likes me as a 'friend and dance partner' but is pretty clear that there will be no sexual energy between the two of us. We had a couple of emails back and forth after the date, and that's where I got this particular information.
The setback wasn't in being 'rejected' or anything like that, it was more about my giddy reaction to her resistance. Here's a woman who I'm kind of attracted to telling me that she's pretty clear that we're not going there. First thing I thought was 'oh, she's not totally clear', there is an opening. And I was reminded of the scene in Dunb and Dumber where the girl tells the guy it's a one in a billion chance that they'd ever go out, and he says, Aha, there's a chance, or something equally ridiculous. That was my reaction too, just like in the movie.
So I was both very understanding and relaxed about 'hey, whatever', but at the same time, there was some giddy energy about what I call 'the happiness of pursuit'. (see what I did there?' It's supposed to be the pursuit of happiness, but for me, it's flipped and I have this energy that simply loves the juxtaposition of a skeptical woman, and a charming man. It conforms to some deep seated paradigm that I carry around inside, and when the places are set, watch out, here comes the charm, or something like it. And along with the charm comes a feeling of well-being and energy and 'the world is green' and spring is in the air and Boom Boom Boom.
(sigh)
I wrote her back a kind of giddy email, one of those, 'sure let's just be friends, but let's go on a hike or something tomorrow', that was a lot of wordplay and over familiarity, and I'm guessing that she saw through the alleged 'friendship' and into the giddy seduction, yes I know I keep using the word 'giddy' but that's what it was, and I got an email back saying 'I can't hike tomorrow, thanks for the invitation'. It sure seemed like the 'blow off email' because that's about how I'd do it, were the situation reversed, so I felt the air go out of the balloon and felt like I was busted. This might be totally in my own mind, and I could be reading into the situation, but that doesn't really matter. I busted myself anyhow, and that's likely more important than knowing for sure whether she busted me.
The result of it, however, is that things are not so green, it's still cold, it's still me, there's no Boom Boom Boom, and I have to still make sense of my life outside of the giddy fix. It feels good to write about it, because there is some sense of well-being in simply describing that thing that happens. I guess it's that old saw about a reflective life, not that I can remember how it goes at this point. What the hell is it? (he thought, trying to turn his brain inside out to recall that saying about a life worth living is one of reflection, or something like that. That's not even close, I realize, but I'll find it. OK here it is, (thank you, Senor Google) 'The unexamined life is not worth living' (Socrates, at his trial for heresy).
The unexamined life is not worth living. And my brain immediately goes to the question, 'does that mean that the examined life is worth living'. That idea is implied, certainly, but does if follow logically? Then it gets into the territory of logic and the 'if P and not Q', type of analysis. I just wrote a good typo when I typed 'anarlysis', because, yeah, it's gnarly. But I digress (again) And I wrote 'bit I digress'. Yes Dr Freud, my mind is a fertile field of incongruity. By the way, I took a logic class in college and I really liked it, mostly because we learned about many fallacies that people use in conversation or argument, and this was during the Nixon administration with the likes of John Mitchell, H R Haldeman, Nixon and the other criminals going on TV day after day and spewing their garbage. I could sit back and say, "uh, Mr President, that's a 'false cause argument', or Mr Mitchell, you have equivocated, sir". It's true, those lying bastards were a gold mine of logical fallacy.
So what's the takeaway from this post? And the reason I ask is because I think I will start titling these posts at the end of the story, rather than the beginning. That way, it will be easier for me to remember them and go back and have a look at something I wrote in the past, using the title as a reference marker, rather than wading through miles of words. The takeaway from this visit is something like 'gray giddy gray, OK.
After the Storm....
Yesterday was cold rain, lots of snow in the mountains, a great day to not be homeless. I got my taxes done and don't owe too much, thanks to my tax person, Joann, and now her daughter who is working with her. Joann has been doing my taxes since the 80s and now she's a big-shot partner in a happening firm, and I'm very lucky that she keeps me on as one of her 'back in the day' clients. It's practically pro bono as she charges me $650 and then knocks off $500 for a grand total of $150. Plus the fact that she has all my info in her computer and it's super easy for her to fill in the blanks and bang out the return. This is one of the blessings of not making a lot of money, taxes are a breeze. The idea of trying to do my own taxes, would be on a par with performing a self appendectomy.
And as a postscript to how lucky I am in this realm, when I went in yesterday for my annual meeting with Joann, she was behind and the secretary asked me if I'd mind meeting with the daughter instead. My first reaction was a little nervousness about a change in plan, but what the hell, let's do it. And the daughter, sorry I can't remember her name, was kind of surprised that I only get charged $150. 'She must like you' was her comment. I said, 'she must have some others from back in the day who are on that scale'. 'Um, not really'. Joann is cool, very left-brain and linear, happy in what she does, and she and her husband Chuck are building a rental empire around here. He spends all of his time maintaining the holdings, doing the gutters, repairing and painting and cleaning etc. They're a hell of a team. And I'm a lucky dude to not have to hassle with tax season.
I just took a break from this blog to make a bunch of phone calls to Senior Centers, assisted living centers etc, because I'm finding that I really like those gigs, they have a little bit of money, and there is no reason why I shouldn't play at least one of those gigs a day, make my little $40 or $50 for that hour and spread some love around. Besides, I was getting sick of sitting here and looking inside (not that I'm done with that by any means, but I need to balance it out with uh, making some money and spreading the music around). It's not the full solution by any means, but it's a step in the right direction.
I got some business counseling a few years ago from a retired, now un-retired executive, and the best piece of advice he gave me was 'Do something to promote yourself every day. Do at least one thing'. I can actually accomplish that goal, as opposed to say, change your entire lifestyle and be a different person... Small steps...
There was a funny slice of Eugene life the other day at the 'Jail', which is a local teriyaki place run by this pretty cool Korean guy. It's the best deal in town and his chicken is grilled and tasty. I stopped in on my way home from a gig to order some take-out. While I was waiting for it, I noticed a little mouse staggering around near the baseboard molding, looking like he was on his last legs. I'm guessing he had been poisoned, and he didn't have long to live. I pointed him out to the worker, and of course a couple of customers heard me so they took a look. There were two Arab students there, and they immediately wanted to cancel their orders which had just been placed. Some redneck, out of work logger type guy, wearing a baseball cap said, 'Why, a mouse is probably a God wherever you come from?' It was just an ignorant statement, racist and dumb, but I was struck by the culture clash in that moment. The students didn't quite hear what he said, they weren't paying attention, as their whole focus was getting their money back. I could tell that the idea of a mouse in a restaurant was totally unacceptable to them, regardless of whether or not it had gotten into the food. So between the Spanish speaking, Korean owner, the redneck logger, the Arab students and the East Coast scribe, it was just another day in the life of Eugene, OR
And as a postscript to how lucky I am in this realm, when I went in yesterday for my annual meeting with Joann, she was behind and the secretary asked me if I'd mind meeting with the daughter instead. My first reaction was a little nervousness about a change in plan, but what the hell, let's do it. And the daughter, sorry I can't remember her name, was kind of surprised that I only get charged $150. 'She must like you' was her comment. I said, 'she must have some others from back in the day who are on that scale'. 'Um, not really'. Joann is cool, very left-brain and linear, happy in what she does, and she and her husband Chuck are building a rental empire around here. He spends all of his time maintaining the holdings, doing the gutters, repairing and painting and cleaning etc. They're a hell of a team. And I'm a lucky dude to not have to hassle with tax season.
I just took a break from this blog to make a bunch of phone calls to Senior Centers, assisted living centers etc, because I'm finding that I really like those gigs, they have a little bit of money, and there is no reason why I shouldn't play at least one of those gigs a day, make my little $40 or $50 for that hour and spread some love around. Besides, I was getting sick of sitting here and looking inside (not that I'm done with that by any means, but I need to balance it out with uh, making some money and spreading the music around). It's not the full solution by any means, but it's a step in the right direction.
I got some business counseling a few years ago from a retired, now un-retired executive, and the best piece of advice he gave me was 'Do something to promote yourself every day. Do at least one thing'. I can actually accomplish that goal, as opposed to say, change your entire lifestyle and be a different person... Small steps...
There was a funny slice of Eugene life the other day at the 'Jail', which is a local teriyaki place run by this pretty cool Korean guy. It's the best deal in town and his chicken is grilled and tasty. I stopped in on my way home from a gig to order some take-out. While I was waiting for it, I noticed a little mouse staggering around near the baseboard molding, looking like he was on his last legs. I'm guessing he had been poisoned, and he didn't have long to live. I pointed him out to the worker, and of course a couple of customers heard me so they took a look. There were two Arab students there, and they immediately wanted to cancel their orders which had just been placed. Some redneck, out of work logger type guy, wearing a baseball cap said, 'Why, a mouse is probably a God wherever you come from?' It was just an ignorant statement, racist and dumb, but I was struck by the culture clash in that moment. The students didn't quite hear what he said, they weren't paying attention, as their whole focus was getting their money back. I could tell that the idea of a mouse in a restaurant was totally unacceptable to them, regardless of whether or not it had gotten into the food. So between the Spanish speaking, Korean owner, the redneck logger, the Arab students and the East Coast scribe, it was just another day in the life of Eugene, OR
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