It's 7:48 in the morning on a cloudy Wednesday, and at 10:30, I'll be teaching a music class for a bunch of 5 year old children. Their teacher, Shawna is starting to prepare for a Graduation Ceremony which is about 6 weeks away, and she asked if I knew a good song about 'family' which the kids might sing at the event. She told me that she'd check out some of her sources, folk music books etc to try and find something. Me, I hear the request and my first thought is to try and craft something for the event. So let's try. I've never blogged a song-writing session before; usually I'll grab a guitar and see what I can come up with, but I'm going to try and do it from the computer (with a guitar nearby). Hopefully I won't get 'blogged down' in the process.
So how do you write a song? I think in terms of the hook, in this case a simple chorus which the kids could strongly sing, using their best voices. It would be one that would make the parents get tears in their eyes. Often my 'go to' move is a 1V V 1 progression, that has that feeling of roundness and repetition, so I'll start there (again). The key of C is the perfect key for kids usually, so I'll start there too. Pause, grab the guitar, start playing in C.
It's you (it's you) and me (and me)
Living in our family
Nowhere else I'd rather be
Than right here by your side
With you (with you) and me (and me)
Living life so happily
Pause, shower, thoughts, yes I'm aware of the irony of a lonely, disconnected man trying to write songs about the joys of being in a family. It's totally absurd, yet I persist, probably like the guys who wrote those love songs or made those movies which painted lovely pictures of familial warmth and contentment, while the authors were banging the secretary or trying not to get too drunk before noon.... but I digress....
Now where was I? It's kind of tricky to write a song about 'family' in 2011, because it doesn't feel right to paint a totally rosy picture about 'living life so easily' or 'mom and dad' because it just doesn't ring true anymore. So there's a bit of finesse involved. I guess it's a balancing act in which I have to idealize it a little bit, but not too much. That feels like the right approach. I don't want to be too 'noir' with it. 'Daddy got laid off, mom is running up the credit card again, the case worker thinks I'm going to get placed in a foster home' (although that does sound like a fun tune to write... dark lyrics over top of a cheerful sounding kids song) but I tri-gress...
It's you (it's you) and me (and me)
Living in our family
Nowhere else I'd rather be
Than right here by your side
With you (with you) and me (and me)
It's as simple as ABC
Oh how happy we can be
Living in our family
9:19am It's done, It's going to work and now it's in my heart... happy....
Money money money money
It's the journey, right? Isn't that the cliche that we eventually end up at? The goal is the journey itself, which is a fine little mind-bender right out of the gate. When looking for purpose or meaning, it's not about a final destination or goal, but about the camino, if you will. I guess I captured that idea pretty well a month or so ago in the verse which says:
May you have a gentle road
Good friends along the way
Can I help you carry that load
Where we going anyway?
But I'm not ready to quite sum it up yet, as my brain has been tickled by the unexpected little knot of 'the goal is the journey', which seems like a contradiction. I realize that I'm playing with words and wanting them to fit into some kind of clever arrangement, but beyond that, I get a sense that there is some mysterious truth that is wanting to surface.
Just as an exercise, let me consider the hypothesis that it's ALL about the goal and the journey is irrelevant. You got to be driven, you got to succeed, you got to get there, put the blinders on, go go go. It's all about the goal, sunny, rainy, it's all about the goal, solo, hooked up, it's all about the goal, go go go goal. No time for reflection, no time for connection, to time for perception, it's all about the goal. (as an aside, it might be nice to actually have a goal to plug into this hypothesis, but if I could do that, I probably wouldn't be on this exercise anyway). Is that the problem, is it simply a case of not being able to formulate a goal that leads me to wonder about goals and journeys? Maybe the goal is to formulate a goal? Very possibly, but let's set that aside for a moment and return to the meandering.
Only there's no meandering in reaching the goal, it's a one way, pressing, non-distracted, non-distractable push toward the finish line (he said as he distractedly got up to go bring in the newspaper, an apt metaphor for my state of mind at the moment, which is the opposite of non-distracted). Or maybe it's just the ADD kicking in.... again :-) But I'm not putting myself down, just reporting on the ironies and amusements of my situation.
I just re-read what I have written thus far, and was reminded of that essay I wrote at the age of 17, when I was supposed to be taking a history test about American Foreign Policy. For some reason I didn't register that there was a test that day, so I was totally unprepared, hadn't done the reading. The teacher hands out the essay test and all around me, kids are feverishly writing their essays, while I was in some kind of thoughtful stupor, being turned off by their rushing pens and intent expressions.
I suppose I could have tried to fake it, use my rhetorical powers to try and at least pass the test (so to speak), but on this day, I just didn't have it in my to go in that direction. Something came over me and I began to write what turned out to be an early blog entry, I suppose. Instead of trying to bullshit my way into a C grade, I just wrote about what I was feeling, being a guy surrounded by intent faces and hurrying pens. And I got pretty fired up about it the longer that I wrote. I remember one passage of the paper in which I said something like, 'And why are they writing so fast? So they can get a good grade on the test, so they can get a good mark in the class so they can get into a good college so they can get a good job and MAKE A LOT OF FUCKING MONEY! I followed that up with, 'it makes me sick'
I do remember feeling exhilarated by the writing and the self-expression. My teacher was apparently not quite as impressed, as he gave me the well-deserved F on the test, as if I cared. The next day in school, I got a visit from the guidance counselor, who showed up in my homeroom, asked to have a word with me, and then asked me if everything was all right. I assured him that I was fine, and I probably asked him if he liked the paper. Flash forward 40 years, and my brother Mick discovered that paper while doing some cleaning at our mom's house and he's going to mail it to me as a memento of a different time. Only thing is, I haven't changed all that much.... or have I?
I do know that my essay was about the same thing I started with here, thinking about goals and in that case, rejecting the money goal, which is truly the elephant in the room when it comes to this culture, at least. We are so oriented to money here in the west. I don't know if it's a universal condition, but it's certainly a western one. And now with the benefit of 40 years perspective, I can see that my rebellious rejection of money as the end game has caused me to conflate it with any other more worthy goal which I might imagine for myself. I haven't changed much from that angry teenager who is rejecting his father's values as a way to define his own path. Even today, when I set out to think about goals, or the idea of goals, there was a shadow present, and it was the idea that money is the ultimate goal here, so what's the use of really trying to come up with a goal, when my soul still rebels at the money piece. Hmmmmmm I feel like I made some headway, and it looks like this:
It's time to stop conflating 'money' and my issues with it into every thought process about what I might hope to achieve. By now, I've proven the point that I'm not my father, and it's time to step out from under that shadow and that self- limiting way of looking at things. Money is not the goal, it might be just a part of the journey. Time to chemically remove it from the metaphysical equation and let some more light in. On three.... 1 2 3 and it's done. Let the sunshine in...
May you have a gentle road
Good friends along the way
Can I help you carry that load
Where we going anyway?
But I'm not ready to quite sum it up yet, as my brain has been tickled by the unexpected little knot of 'the goal is the journey', which seems like a contradiction. I realize that I'm playing with words and wanting them to fit into some kind of clever arrangement, but beyond that, I get a sense that there is some mysterious truth that is wanting to surface.
Just as an exercise, let me consider the hypothesis that it's ALL about the goal and the journey is irrelevant. You got to be driven, you got to succeed, you got to get there, put the blinders on, go go go. It's all about the goal, sunny, rainy, it's all about the goal, solo, hooked up, it's all about the goal, go go go goal. No time for reflection, no time for connection, to time for perception, it's all about the goal. (as an aside, it might be nice to actually have a goal to plug into this hypothesis, but if I could do that, I probably wouldn't be on this exercise anyway). Is that the problem, is it simply a case of not being able to formulate a goal that leads me to wonder about goals and journeys? Maybe the goal is to formulate a goal? Very possibly, but let's set that aside for a moment and return to the meandering.
Only there's no meandering in reaching the goal, it's a one way, pressing, non-distracted, non-distractable push toward the finish line (he said as he distractedly got up to go bring in the newspaper, an apt metaphor for my state of mind at the moment, which is the opposite of non-distracted). Or maybe it's just the ADD kicking in.... again :-) But I'm not putting myself down, just reporting on the ironies and amusements of my situation.
I just re-read what I have written thus far, and was reminded of that essay I wrote at the age of 17, when I was supposed to be taking a history test about American Foreign Policy. For some reason I didn't register that there was a test that day, so I was totally unprepared, hadn't done the reading. The teacher hands out the essay test and all around me, kids are feverishly writing their essays, while I was in some kind of thoughtful stupor, being turned off by their rushing pens and intent expressions.
I suppose I could have tried to fake it, use my rhetorical powers to try and at least pass the test (so to speak), but on this day, I just didn't have it in my to go in that direction. Something came over me and I began to write what turned out to be an early blog entry, I suppose. Instead of trying to bullshit my way into a C grade, I just wrote about what I was feeling, being a guy surrounded by intent faces and hurrying pens. And I got pretty fired up about it the longer that I wrote. I remember one passage of the paper in which I said something like, 'And why are they writing so fast? So they can get a good grade on the test, so they can get a good mark in the class so they can get into a good college so they can get a good job and MAKE A LOT OF FUCKING MONEY! I followed that up with, 'it makes me sick'
I do remember feeling exhilarated by the writing and the self-expression. My teacher was apparently not quite as impressed, as he gave me the well-deserved F on the test, as if I cared. The next day in school, I got a visit from the guidance counselor, who showed up in my homeroom, asked to have a word with me, and then asked me if everything was all right. I assured him that I was fine, and I probably asked him if he liked the paper. Flash forward 40 years, and my brother Mick discovered that paper while doing some cleaning at our mom's house and he's going to mail it to me as a memento of a different time. Only thing is, I haven't changed all that much.... or have I?
I do know that my essay was about the same thing I started with here, thinking about goals and in that case, rejecting the money goal, which is truly the elephant in the room when it comes to this culture, at least. We are so oriented to money here in the west. I don't know if it's a universal condition, but it's certainly a western one. And now with the benefit of 40 years perspective, I can see that my rebellious rejection of money as the end game has caused me to conflate it with any other more worthy goal which I might imagine for myself. I haven't changed much from that angry teenager who is rejecting his father's values as a way to define his own path. Even today, when I set out to think about goals, or the idea of goals, there was a shadow present, and it was the idea that money is the ultimate goal here, so what's the use of really trying to come up with a goal, when my soul still rebels at the money piece. Hmmmmmm I feel like I made some headway, and it looks like this:
It's time to stop conflating 'money' and my issues with it into every thought process about what I might hope to achieve. By now, I've proven the point that I'm not my father, and it's time to step out from under that shadow and that self- limiting way of looking at things. Money is not the goal, it might be just a part of the journey. Time to chemically remove it from the metaphysical equation and let some more light in. On three.... 1 2 3 and it's done. Let the sunshine in...
Passover day 5
Give us this day, but no daily bread. I can't exactly say why I'm keeping kosher this Passover season, but so far, I've managed to refrain from eating any bread, not that I haven't been tempted. It's such a part of my makeup to want to grab 'the staff of life' (insert joke here). Last night at the Greek restaurant where I went for dinner with my friend Larry, the waitress put a couple of pieces of delicious looking bread in front of me, and it was all I could do to resist its leavened allure. At a certain point I said to my buddy, 'could you put this over there and get it out of my immediate sensory field' (or words to that effect), because I felt an instinctive pull to grab a hunk and stuff it in my mouth. It was almost primordial; rather than simply thinking 'I'd like a piece of bread', it was more like, 'Bread, Eat' Man want Bread!, coming from a the body, not the brain, (or so I could imagine)
But I managed to avoid it, along with the treats at the cafe where we went for coffee afterward. Actually, now that I think about it, I believe that I did have a treat a few nights ago when I might have spaced out the fact that we were still in the passover time, so it's not a case of me being all kind of 'purist' about the holiday. But there is certainly something to be said for depriving oneself of what one thinks one wants and seeing what happens as a result.
I'm reminded of my Rabbi friend Jeff Marx's thought process when I asked him for a consult about a story I was working on. I was trying to write a piece about bullying, but I was having trouble coming up with the right tone for the story. Should I concentrate on the bully himself, or the victim or the classroom as a whole? I presented the dilemma to Jeff, and his first thought was, 'What is the opposite of bullying?' He followed up immediately with the phrase, 'Use your power for good', and that struck me as the perfect approach. And I was intrigued by the way he had arrived at this solution. He made a conscious choice to consider the opposite, and because of that decision, he immediately hit upon a great idea. I heard the words 'Use your power for good' as a melody and an anthem. The hook of the song was written in a flash. I didn't write it, actually, it just 'was'.
It makes me wonder if that act of considering 'what is the opposite' might have some utility in other areas of my life. I think I know my ruts pretty well by this point, those pathways which seem to direct my thoughts around the same mental route. I'm going to place a thought in my brain which says, 'when you find yourself aware that you're going down that familiar pathway, stop to consider 'what is the opposite''. Especially when I get daunted by the familiar 'there is too much to do' paralysis about career building tasks, website maintenance, album recording, social media outreach, business building, mailing list creation, promotional work, equipment upgrading etc etc etc, it would be wise to consider 'what is the opposite of this feeling of helplessness?' I do believe that there is some solution lurking there.
Speaking of the word 'daunted', which I mentioned in the last paragraph. I was having a very interesting conversation with a new friend, Rico, in which I mentioned that word. I had just met him, a fifty something, charismatic Argentinian guy who has recently made Eugene his home. He's a very bright individual, makes his living as a translator, bilingual marketing guy. He's very plugged into the new forms of social networking, is posting stuff all the time, making connections, drawing people to him, and he's definitely got the knack for the new media. I could tell by the way he instinctively took some pictures and brief video at the blues jam and then posted it to his facebook, as a matter of course.
We got talking during the break and I had an immediate sense that he had a lot of what I need, so I was interested in having a conversation. At one point, I mentioned that I am daunted by the amount of stuff that I need to do in the social networking arena which I don't know how to do. Then I stopped and asked him if he understood the word 'daunted'. The reason I asked him is because his accent is fairly strong, and I wasn't sure of the level of his English comprehension. He assured me that he knew what it meant, telling me that he's been in the states for 30 years, works as a translator etc. I ribbed him a little, saying that if he's so great in English, why does he have such a strong accent?
This made him laugh, and his answer was that the times he was going to try and lose the accent, he would have a girlfriend who would say, 'But I love your accent'. (sounded like a convenient excuse, but who am I to judge?). Then he continued and said that when he gives a talk, he will invariably start out like this: 'I apologize for my accent, but if there is something you don't understand, please raise your hand.... AND I'LL SAY IT LOUDER!. It was a 'laugh line', and my first reaction was to say, 'What are you, Jewish?' It just seemed like such a Jewish take, to use a little comedy shtick as a way of dealing with a little quirk like an accent. He says, 'Yes, I am, nobody ever guesses this, you are the first'. We both laughed a lot about it, and I think it's very amusing to sniff out a Jewish approach to life and comedy, even if it has a Spanish accent. Takes one to know one, I guess.
But I managed to avoid it, along with the treats at the cafe where we went for coffee afterward. Actually, now that I think about it, I believe that I did have a treat a few nights ago when I might have spaced out the fact that we were still in the passover time, so it's not a case of me being all kind of 'purist' about the holiday. But there is certainly something to be said for depriving oneself of what one thinks one wants and seeing what happens as a result.
I'm reminded of my Rabbi friend Jeff Marx's thought process when I asked him for a consult about a story I was working on. I was trying to write a piece about bullying, but I was having trouble coming up with the right tone for the story. Should I concentrate on the bully himself, or the victim or the classroom as a whole? I presented the dilemma to Jeff, and his first thought was, 'What is the opposite of bullying?' He followed up immediately with the phrase, 'Use your power for good', and that struck me as the perfect approach. And I was intrigued by the way he had arrived at this solution. He made a conscious choice to consider the opposite, and because of that decision, he immediately hit upon a great idea. I heard the words 'Use your power for good' as a melody and an anthem. The hook of the song was written in a flash. I didn't write it, actually, it just 'was'.
It makes me wonder if that act of considering 'what is the opposite' might have some utility in other areas of my life. I think I know my ruts pretty well by this point, those pathways which seem to direct my thoughts around the same mental route. I'm going to place a thought in my brain which says, 'when you find yourself aware that you're going down that familiar pathway, stop to consider 'what is the opposite''. Especially when I get daunted by the familiar 'there is too much to do' paralysis about career building tasks, website maintenance, album recording, social media outreach, business building, mailing list creation, promotional work, equipment upgrading etc etc etc, it would be wise to consider 'what is the opposite of this feeling of helplessness?' I do believe that there is some solution lurking there.
Speaking of the word 'daunted', which I mentioned in the last paragraph. I was having a very interesting conversation with a new friend, Rico, in which I mentioned that word. I had just met him, a fifty something, charismatic Argentinian guy who has recently made Eugene his home. He's a very bright individual, makes his living as a translator, bilingual marketing guy. He's very plugged into the new forms of social networking, is posting stuff all the time, making connections, drawing people to him, and he's definitely got the knack for the new media. I could tell by the way he instinctively took some pictures and brief video at the blues jam and then posted it to his facebook, as a matter of course.
We got talking during the break and I had an immediate sense that he had a lot of what I need, so I was interested in having a conversation. At one point, I mentioned that I am daunted by the amount of stuff that I need to do in the social networking arena which I don't know how to do. Then I stopped and asked him if he understood the word 'daunted'. The reason I asked him is because his accent is fairly strong, and I wasn't sure of the level of his English comprehension. He assured me that he knew what it meant, telling me that he's been in the states for 30 years, works as a translator etc. I ribbed him a little, saying that if he's so great in English, why does he have such a strong accent?
This made him laugh, and his answer was that the times he was going to try and lose the accent, he would have a girlfriend who would say, 'But I love your accent'. (sounded like a convenient excuse, but who am I to judge?). Then he continued and said that when he gives a talk, he will invariably start out like this: 'I apologize for my accent, but if there is something you don't understand, please raise your hand.... AND I'LL SAY IT LOUDER!. It was a 'laugh line', and my first reaction was to say, 'What are you, Jewish?' It just seemed like such a Jewish take, to use a little comedy shtick as a way of dealing with a little quirk like an accent. He says, 'Yes, I am, nobody ever guesses this, you are the first'. We both laughed a lot about it, and I think it's very amusing to sniff out a Jewish approach to life and comedy, even if it has a Spanish accent. Takes one to know one, I guess.
Lesson plan Earth Day edition
I have a fairly important gig this morning to deliver an Earth Day performance for about 80 little kids from the University preschool programs. They will be marching to campus for a little demonstration, then joining me at the Condon School nearby for a special Rich Glauber interactive event. And even though I could likely waltz on in there and do my thing, I feel the need to think about it and come up with a plan. (likely because my voice is at half strength, the room is large and I want to deliver a good event) So here goes the thought process.
Start with 'You'll sing a song' and do it eventually in different animal voices. Wolves, whales, sheep, bees, cats...
5 little fishes, swimming in a pool
5 big elephants, walking down the street
I just learned 'April Showers' and it's quite a fine little ditty. Maybe I'll bust it out today, this being April and all, and I love the message of the song. And I love the idea of including an old song or two to link the generations. I might couple it with 'Take Me Out to the Ballgame' which could also be an April song. That would constitute the retro part of the show. Does it tie into 'Earth Day'? Not really, but I could certainly make it so, talking about how people can enjoy the beautiful weather on earth by playing games and having fun outdoors.... as opposed to say, sitting in front of the computer. Yeah, that works, a little public service announcement :-)
I wrote a fun little preschool song called 'That's not the way we do it' about mistakes people make, and how they should clean up their act. Here's a sample verse:
Grandma likes to read the paper, she buys one every single day
But sometimes she forgets to recycle her paper
She goes to the garbage can and throws her paper away....
That's not the way we do it, not the way we do it
That's not the way we do it, please don't do it anymore
Uncle Bob likes to go fishing, he's even got his own fishing boat
One day he drank three cans of Pepsi, then he threw them in the water
Just to see if they would float...
It's cold and cloudy this morning, might be another rainy day
So I got lazy and used my car, even though the place I went to
Was only a mile away...
Bizzy Bugs
Going to the Zoo
Itsy Bitsy Spider in Spanish and English
In My Garden
Shine a Light with Percussion for the finale... Happy Earth Day, everyone!
Start with 'You'll sing a song' and do it eventually in different animal voices. Wolves, whales, sheep, bees, cats...
5 little fishes, swimming in a pool
5 big elephants, walking down the street
I just learned 'April Showers' and it's quite a fine little ditty. Maybe I'll bust it out today, this being April and all, and I love the message of the song. And I love the idea of including an old song or two to link the generations. I might couple it with 'Take Me Out to the Ballgame' which could also be an April song. That would constitute the retro part of the show. Does it tie into 'Earth Day'? Not really, but I could certainly make it so, talking about how people can enjoy the beautiful weather on earth by playing games and having fun outdoors.... as opposed to say, sitting in front of the computer. Yeah, that works, a little public service announcement :-)
I wrote a fun little preschool song called 'That's not the way we do it' about mistakes people make, and how they should clean up their act. Here's a sample verse:
Grandma likes to read the paper, she buys one every single day
But sometimes she forgets to recycle her paper
She goes to the garbage can and throws her paper away....
That's not the way we do it, not the way we do it
That's not the way we do it, please don't do it anymore
Uncle Bob likes to go fishing, he's even got his own fishing boat
One day he drank three cans of Pepsi, then he threw them in the water
Just to see if they would float...
It's cold and cloudy this morning, might be another rainy day
So I got lazy and used my car, even though the place I went to
Was only a mile away...
Bizzy Bugs
Going to the Zoo
Itsy Bitsy Spider in Spanish and English
In My Garden
Shine a Light with Percussion for the finale... Happy Earth Day, everyone!
Voice My Lost
Lost my voice last night after a couple of fairly strenuous gigs, but it wasn't like I strained it, more like some phlegm got in there and just shut it down. Which is unfortunate, because it's a busy time right now with lots of appearances, and without a voice, it makes it tough. I had to cancel one today, a real nice senior's gig at one of the local places, and it's a gig that was booked 4 months ago. I hated to lose it, but if I had tried to do it, I would have put myself totally out of vocal commission for days. So I let the activities director know that I couldn't sing and if he could find a replacement, then he should. I said that I'd be willing to play the piano and accordion and act like a clown if he needed me to, but singing was out. He found a replacement so it all worked out, I suppose.
Tomorrow is the gig that I'm irreplaceable on, as it's about 80 preschool kids coming in for an Earth Day event at the University. I've done this gig for the past couple of years, and it's been a lot of fun each time. And this year, I'm inviting my friend Spencer to come and roll some video of the performance, which is part of the larger plan of getting my promotional and social media reality more up to date. There is a good possibility that this will be a chance to get some great footage, so here we go. Spencer is 'the guy' as far as I'm concerned, 23 years old, has a good camera and lots of knowledge of the modern technological world which intimidates me greatly.
He shot some footage yesterday at a nice senior's performance I did across town and we met today to look at footage and start producing a 3 minute promotional video that I can use to garner some new gigs. I liked what I saw, a fun-loving, interactive artist who really got the party going for the senior set. But it's more than that; it's very life affirming for folks to sing. Sometimes their memories are going, not all the words are in there, but a lot of them are, and there is a lot of joy in singing the old songs, feeling successful and happy and still going strong. That's what I was seeing in their smiles and laughter, and in my own too... So we chose about 5 or 6 brief sections of songs that Spencer will edit into a little promo piece that he'll put up on Youtube.
After the senior gig, I hustled over to Cozmic Pizza to play a 'free family night' event that was a little chaotic, not totally enjoyable, and I could feel that my voice was going. Uh oh! But I made it through and then went over to the Wednesday night Blues Jam at Quackers. It was very dead, but I hung around and then was delighted to see my friend Joanie walk through the door around 9:30. She is the dream date; we've been friends and dance partners for decades, and the comfort level on the dance floor is 25 years in the making. Joanie and Marv have been married for nearly 40 years, but in their free time, he likes to fish and she likes to dance and they give each other their space to do just that.
It's such a gift to have a friend like that, we're both incredibly grateful for the connection, and I joke that it's like having a girlfriend without any of the negatives. Over the years, many people have assumed that we're a couple because we've been out and about hundreds of times, but nope, just friends and fellow dancers, and what a blessing it continues to be. We both love to improvise and play act and 'get down' on the dance floor, and last night on 4/20, that's exactly what we did.
Then I got to play the last set, as usual, and it was one of the best ever. Since there were very few people in the place, we tried out some stuff without feeling the pressure to keep the dancers on the floor. Byron was on guitar, and he's made some really clear chord charts for tons of songs; last night we did a great version of the jazz standard 'Come Rain or Come Shine' along with 'My Girl' by the Temptations, and it's hard to describe how pleasurable it is to play that stuff with great musicians. We know how to follow one another; all the endings were tight, it's a kind of artistic teamwork that makes me incredibly happy (even without a voice)
Tomorrow is the gig that I'm irreplaceable on, as it's about 80 preschool kids coming in for an Earth Day event at the University. I've done this gig for the past couple of years, and it's been a lot of fun each time. And this year, I'm inviting my friend Spencer to come and roll some video of the performance, which is part of the larger plan of getting my promotional and social media reality more up to date. There is a good possibility that this will be a chance to get some great footage, so here we go. Spencer is 'the guy' as far as I'm concerned, 23 years old, has a good camera and lots of knowledge of the modern technological world which intimidates me greatly.
He shot some footage yesterday at a nice senior's performance I did across town and we met today to look at footage and start producing a 3 minute promotional video that I can use to garner some new gigs. I liked what I saw, a fun-loving, interactive artist who really got the party going for the senior set. But it's more than that; it's very life affirming for folks to sing. Sometimes their memories are going, not all the words are in there, but a lot of them are, and there is a lot of joy in singing the old songs, feeling successful and happy and still going strong. That's what I was seeing in their smiles and laughter, and in my own too... So we chose about 5 or 6 brief sections of songs that Spencer will edit into a little promo piece that he'll put up on Youtube.
After the senior gig, I hustled over to Cozmic Pizza to play a 'free family night' event that was a little chaotic, not totally enjoyable, and I could feel that my voice was going. Uh oh! But I made it through and then went over to the Wednesday night Blues Jam at Quackers. It was very dead, but I hung around and then was delighted to see my friend Joanie walk through the door around 9:30. She is the dream date; we've been friends and dance partners for decades, and the comfort level on the dance floor is 25 years in the making. Joanie and Marv have been married for nearly 40 years, but in their free time, he likes to fish and she likes to dance and they give each other their space to do just that.
It's such a gift to have a friend like that, we're both incredibly grateful for the connection, and I joke that it's like having a girlfriend without any of the negatives. Over the years, many people have assumed that we're a couple because we've been out and about hundreds of times, but nope, just friends and fellow dancers, and what a blessing it continues to be. We both love to improvise and play act and 'get down' on the dance floor, and last night on 4/20, that's exactly what we did.
Then I got to play the last set, as usual, and it was one of the best ever. Since there were very few people in the place, we tried out some stuff without feeling the pressure to keep the dancers on the floor. Byron was on guitar, and he's made some really clear chord charts for tons of songs; last night we did a great version of the jazz standard 'Come Rain or Come Shine' along with 'My Girl' by the Temptations, and it's hard to describe how pleasurable it is to play that stuff with great musicians. We know how to follow one another; all the endings were tight, it's a kind of artistic teamwork that makes me incredibly happy (even without a voice)
Why I write, in a nutshell...
Disaffected, rejected, not completely unexpected
Constricted, conflicted, most likely self-inflicted
Distracted, impacted, but the source has been contacted
Inspect it, reflect it, in time maybe correct it
Constricted, conflicted, most likely self-inflicted
Distracted, impacted, but the source has been contacted
Inspect it, reflect it, in time maybe correct it
Chad Gadya (Life and Death at the Seder)
We celebrated a fabulous Seder tonight, and as often happens, it was deeply meaningful and rich with symbolism and personal drama.
Our host, Doctor H, was three weeks removed from a near death experience in which he was trapped under an overturned drift boat, helplessly wedged underwater, unable to escape and not too far from his demise. It was also 'near-death' in the sense that the owner of the boat, W, actually did die in this mishap, and he was a fishing buddy of the doc, not to mention an expert boater. But not on this day.
There was a third guy in the boat, a friend of the owner, who was an inexperienced boater, and W made the fatal mistake, as it turns out, of giving his buddy the oars and helping him learn about operating a drift boat on the McKenzie River. It was clear that the rookie didn't know what he was doing, but with enough supervision and paying attention, it would be OK (allegedly).
As these things often happen, it was a brief lapse of attention on the part of W, who didn't realize that the boat was drifting toward some submerged logs, and by the time he instructed his friend to 'steer over there', the friend made one inefficient pull on the oars, then missed the water on his next pull, fell backwards into Doctor H, and in an instant they overturned in a hard current, and got pitched out of the boat. The rookie got thrown clear and managed to grab a branch and pull himself onto the shore. Doctor H got slammed by the boat, broke his fibula in 6 places and was trapped for about a minute underwater with no ability to free himself.
As he describes it, he was looking up into the light and first thinking that was the sky, and then wondering if it was that 'tunnel' that you hear about. The boat had him trapped and he thought for an instant of giving up, but fought that impulse and kept struggling. The boat was rocking around in the churning water, and at one point it moved enough for the doc to be pulled out by the current. It was as if God had said, 'Let this one stick around for awhile'. He floated about 20 yards downstream to where he could pull himself on to a little beach. But there was a big rise above him, and with a shattered fibula, he couldn't get any farther, but he was alive. His buddy W drowned under the boat.
It was a very dramatic story, but that's not why it's 'blog-worthy'. That came later, in the singing of Chad Gadya, a traditional song we sing toward the end of the seder. It's one of those songs that starts out small and keeps growing, like the 12 days of Christmas, and we were going one by one around the table, with each reader having to read a longer and longer paragraph (all in one breath). Joanie had mentioned something about how you never know who is going to have to read the longest one, and I naturally thought uh, it would be easy to figure out, just do the math, how many verses? how many people? but I kept it to myself.
And we did a great version of the song, me on guitar, everyone getting into it, having fun, each of us singing a solo paragraph, then all on the Chad Gadya chorus. Wouldn't you know that the final verse belonged to our host, and here's what his lyric was:
Then came the Holy One, Blessed be G-d, And destroyed the Angel of Death
That killed the butcher That slew the ox That drank the water That quenched the fire
That burned the sticks That beat the dog That bit the cat That ate the kid
My father bought for two zuzim Chad gadya (2x).
It's the first time that 'the Holy One' makes an appearance in the song to defeat the Angel of Death etc etc, and that's almost exactly how we were describing his escape from the clutches of death. Doctor H had said that at first he described his ordeal by saying that he had freed himself from the boat, but later he realized that no, he really didn't do that, it just happened, not through his efforts, it was more a God thing. And then he turns out to be the one to sing that verse. I couldn't help but mention the incredible 'coincidence' of the way the song played out. And just now, as I've tried to describe in words what it felt like, I've been at a loss for words, which rarely happens when I sit at the computer to pour out the blog. I rarely struggle with words, but I just took three cracks to come up with the word 'coincidence' in quotes, and that certainly doesn't do the feeling justice. I suppose it's because you can't write about God stuff in the normal parlance of every day life. It was a qualitatively different experience, and it happened under a big fat full moon in the month of April, on the day of liberation.
That's one of the things about the Passover Holiday, and why it's so profound. We are instructed to celebrate the holiday as if we ourselves were experiencing the escape into freedom. It was a great seder, among the very best ever. I'm still buzzing.
I've had this altered passover feeling before, wrote a song about it once nearly twenty years ago, and it's the same feeling now that I tried to capture then...
Is it the pull of the moon is it the rising tide
I got life in the blood tonight
I hear stories in the whistle of the wind
Get ready, we're leaving again
This night, this night, all right
What about this night?
This night, this night
Why is this night so different?
Our host, Doctor H, was three weeks removed from a near death experience in which he was trapped under an overturned drift boat, helplessly wedged underwater, unable to escape and not too far from his demise. It was also 'near-death' in the sense that the owner of the boat, W, actually did die in this mishap, and he was a fishing buddy of the doc, not to mention an expert boater. But not on this day.
There was a third guy in the boat, a friend of the owner, who was an inexperienced boater, and W made the fatal mistake, as it turns out, of giving his buddy the oars and helping him learn about operating a drift boat on the McKenzie River. It was clear that the rookie didn't know what he was doing, but with enough supervision and paying attention, it would be OK (allegedly).
As these things often happen, it was a brief lapse of attention on the part of W, who didn't realize that the boat was drifting toward some submerged logs, and by the time he instructed his friend to 'steer over there', the friend made one inefficient pull on the oars, then missed the water on his next pull, fell backwards into Doctor H, and in an instant they overturned in a hard current, and got pitched out of the boat. The rookie got thrown clear and managed to grab a branch and pull himself onto the shore. Doctor H got slammed by the boat, broke his fibula in 6 places and was trapped for about a minute underwater with no ability to free himself.
As he describes it, he was looking up into the light and first thinking that was the sky, and then wondering if it was that 'tunnel' that you hear about. The boat had him trapped and he thought for an instant of giving up, but fought that impulse and kept struggling. The boat was rocking around in the churning water, and at one point it moved enough for the doc to be pulled out by the current. It was as if God had said, 'Let this one stick around for awhile'. He floated about 20 yards downstream to where he could pull himself on to a little beach. But there was a big rise above him, and with a shattered fibula, he couldn't get any farther, but he was alive. His buddy W drowned under the boat.
It was a very dramatic story, but that's not why it's 'blog-worthy'. That came later, in the singing of Chad Gadya, a traditional song we sing toward the end of the seder. It's one of those songs that starts out small and keeps growing, like the 12 days of Christmas, and we were going one by one around the table, with each reader having to read a longer and longer paragraph (all in one breath). Joanie had mentioned something about how you never know who is going to have to read the longest one, and I naturally thought uh, it would be easy to figure out, just do the math, how many verses? how many people? but I kept it to myself.
And we did a great version of the song, me on guitar, everyone getting into it, having fun, each of us singing a solo paragraph, then all on the Chad Gadya chorus. Wouldn't you know that the final verse belonged to our host, and here's what his lyric was:
Then came the Holy One, Blessed be G-d, And destroyed the Angel of Death
That killed the butcher That slew the ox That drank the water That quenched the fire
That burned the sticks That beat the dog That bit the cat That ate the kid
My father bought for two zuzim Chad gadya (2x).
It's the first time that 'the Holy One' makes an appearance in the song to defeat the Angel of Death etc etc, and that's almost exactly how we were describing his escape from the clutches of death. Doctor H had said that at first he described his ordeal by saying that he had freed himself from the boat, but later he realized that no, he really didn't do that, it just happened, not through his efforts, it was more a God thing. And then he turns out to be the one to sing that verse. I couldn't help but mention the incredible 'coincidence' of the way the song played out. And just now, as I've tried to describe in words what it felt like, I've been at a loss for words, which rarely happens when I sit at the computer to pour out the blog. I rarely struggle with words, but I just took three cracks to come up with the word 'coincidence' in quotes, and that certainly doesn't do the feeling justice. I suppose it's because you can't write about God stuff in the normal parlance of every day life. It was a qualitatively different experience, and it happened under a big fat full moon in the month of April, on the day of liberation.
That's one of the things about the Passover Holiday, and why it's so profound. We are instructed to celebrate the holiday as if we ourselves were experiencing the escape into freedom. It was a great seder, among the very best ever. I'm still buzzing.
I've had this altered passover feeling before, wrote a song about it once nearly twenty years ago, and it's the same feeling now that I tried to capture then...
Is it the pull of the moon is it the rising tide
I got life in the blood tonight
I hear stories in the whistle of the wind
Get ready, we're leaving again
This night, this night, all right
What about this night?
This night, this night
Why is this night so different?
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