Another day

O.K. that last day was a today, this one is a yesterday.
Yesterday, I had an appointment to show my Roosevelt house to a potential renter.
the appointment was for 3:00. Having nothing to do, I read a short mystery/adventure novel and answered the phone, which rang a lot because of the ad in the times concerning aforementioned house.
I checked my e-mail, of course, and perused this site and it's ancillaries.
Oh yeah, also, I added a new musical link; Lisa Hirsch.
Hmmmm
Anyway, the weather was nice so I decided to ride the Vespa. My usual route through Seattle is along Lake Washington Boulevard. Over the years, I have driven this road hundreds, maybe thousands of times. Simcas, Porsches, Volkswagens, Lotuses, Ferraris, Chevrolets, Fords, Jeeps, Peugeots(automotive), Peugeots(bicycle), Facel Vegas, ASAs, Suzukis(my X6hustler),Austins, Morriss, and many more Including my first car, a '49 Olds that I called Lucile after the popular song.
Oh yeah also the 3 cars I built (I am working on getting pictures of those to show you)
Never before on a Vespa.
And only part of the way in Gokwiis (the Amphibian)
It was a nice ride and I thought of many things to post here, but I forgot them all.
I feel a bit of a loss at getting it rented because, while it is untenanted, it is mine. What the thrill of an empty house that I can visit anytime I like is, I dunno, but when it's rented it's sombody else's
So I showed the house and exercized the scooter.
Later that evening I went to Safeway and bought a single layer German chocolate cake
I just finished a piece as I was writing this.
Whenever I ride LW blvd I imagine myself on the shores of lake Como for some reason, why "somewhere else" should make any difference, I dunno again. There's lots of rich people's houses visible over on Mercer Island. But I doubt that any one of thier occupants are ever going to sponsor my music in any way. Although, I suppose I could Hire a small orchestra myself.
I think that the major anomaly in the situation with the SSO could be explained as a love triangle between myself, an frightened and insecure woman and a closeted lesbian
with the frightened woman of genius in control.

Apocrypha

Here's a nice story I found on another site. Notice it's a story "heard several years ago"

Religious Story

Sounds to me like just more religious advertizing to me.
Did bring tears to my eyes, however
I guess we all have little wishes or unfulfilled desires that we would like to have assuaged. Unfortunatly, the reality is that people can't read minds. So unless these desires or "needs" are communicated in some fashion, they remain unfulfilled.
And, most liklely, if communicated, to be contested rather than sympathized with.
Notice, too the difference in social hierarchy. The storyteller is this saintly religious type who is the only one sensitive enough to recognise Agnes' pain.
Would he care if she was at some other social level. Would he care if she was the human resource director of the Seattle Symphony for instance?
I think, realistically, that it's just as likely that a reasonably intelligent prostitute would take pity on a religious fool.
But, that's just me. I would like to be able to care for every one of you.
The only trouble I've had is from the religious. It's like they have copyrighted
human compassion, and get vicious if you try to practice without thier permission.

Anyway, here's the story. Anyone who reads regularly or goes to movies, or watches television will recognise it as fiction.

I't s still a nice story.

When I reflect on God’s Prodigal Love I am reminded of a story I heard several years ago, told by Tony Campolo, noted author, pastor, professor of sociology at Eastern College, and an advocate for gay rights. This experience took place during a visit to Honolulu for a Christian Conference. On his first night there, due to time zone differences, he awoke around three a.m. and left the hotel in search of a place to get something to eat. Eventually he found a tiny coffee shop, with one man behind the bar who served him coffee and a doughnut. Tony was the only customer until, quite suddenly, the coffee shop was filled with girls. Some sat at small tables, others at the counter near Tony. From their conversation he learned an astonishing amount about Honolulu’s night life, for the girls were discussing their night’s work and their male clients. These girls were prostitutes. He tells the story:

“I overheard the woman sitting beside me say, “Tomorrow’s my birthday. I’m going to be thirty-nine.”

Her friend responded in a nasty tone, “So what do you want from me? A birthday party? What do you want? Ya want me to get you a cake and sing ‘Happy Birthday?’”

“Come on!” said the woman sitting next to me. “Why do you have to be so mean? I was just telling you, that’s all. Why do you have to put me down? I was just telling you it was my birthday. I don’t want anything from you. I mean, why should you give me a birthday party? I’ve never had a birthday party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?”

When I heard that, I made a decision. I sat and waited until the women had left. Then I called over the guy behind the counter and I asked him, “Do they come in here every night?”

“Yeah!” he answered.

“The one right next to me, does she come here every night?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s Agnes. Yeah, she comes in here every night. Why d’ya wanta know?”

“Because I heard her say that tomorrow is her birthday. What do you think about us throwing a birthday party for her right here tomorrow night? If it’s OK with you, I’ll get back here tomorrow morning about 2:30 and decorate the place. I’ll even get a birthday cake!”

“No way,” said Harry, “The birthday cake’s my thing. I’ll make the cake.”

At 2:30 the next morning, I was back at the diner. I had picked up some crepe-paper decorations at the store and had made a sign out of big pieces of cardboard that read, “Happy Birthday, Agnes!” I decorated the diner from one end to the other. I had that diner looking good. Harry had invited some of the early morning regulars, telling them it was surprise, so the place was packed.

At 3:30 on the dot, the door of the diner swung open and in came Agnes and her friend. When they came in we all screamed, “Happy birthday!” Never have I seen a person so flabbergasted…so stunned…so shaken. Her mouth fell open. As she was led to sit on one of the stools along the counter we all sang “Happy Birthday” to her. As we came to the end of our singing with “happy birthday dear Agnes, happy birthday to you,” her eyes moistened, when the birthday cake with all the candles on it was carried out, she burst into tears.

Harry mumbled, “Blow out the candles, Agnes! Come on! Blow out the candles! If you don’t blow out the candles, I’m gonna blow out the candles.” And, after an endless few seconds, he did. Then he handed her a knife and told her, “Cut the cake, Agnes, we all want some cake.”

Agnes looked down at the cake. Then without taking her eyes off it, she slowly and softly said, “Look Harry, is it all right with you if I….is it OK if keep the cake a little while? I mean is it all right if we don’t eat it right away?”

Harry shrugged and answered, “Sure! It’s O.K If you want to keep the cake, keep the cake. Take it home if you want to.”

“Can I,” she asked. Then looking at me she said, “I live just down the street a couple of doors. I want to take the cake home, OK? I’ll be right back. Honest!”

She got off the stool picked up the cake, and, carrying it like it was the Holy Grail walked slowly toward the door.

As we all just stood there motionless, she left. When the door closed there was a stunned silence in the place. Not knowing what else to do, I broke the silence by saying, “What do you say we pray?”

I prayed for Agnes. I prayed for her salvation. I prayed that her life would be changed and that God would be good to her. When I finished, Harry leaned over the counter and with a trace of hostility in his voice, he said “Hay! You never told me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you belong to?”

In one of those moments when just the right words came, I answered, “I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for whores at 3:30 in the morning.”

Harry waited a moment and then almost sneered as he answered, “No you don’t. There’s no church like that. If there was, I’d join it. I’d join a church like that!”[2]

Today, may we let the message in Jesus’ parables speak to us of God’s Prodigal love that always meets us where we are and calls us home to the heart of God.

Could be an Opera? Probably is already somewhere.

Let us pray…

A day

So, what do I do today, lazy and and gentleman?
Nothing prepared, I'll just blather away.
Painted the new wall between the kitchen and diningroom.
Went to a Bach's suite for unacompanied cello Saturday.
A whole bunch of cellists played the six (I blieve there were six of 'em)
suites. Very interesting to hear the differences between players.
Then after that, I went to the U-district to a church where a friend of mine was playing some piano preludes. nice.
Sunday Meredith and I went to the Burke museum to see whatever it is they have there.
What they have there is history. History remains history. You don't really need to check up on it very often to realise that it dosn't change all that much. Even after you've learned from it, it gets repeated anyway, ad nauseum.
Oh, I guess I am a little prepared, after all, I just found a "poem" on a scrap of paper in the pile on my "desk"
I think it might be about the "person" who dumped on me at that "arts" organization that I'm getting tired of griping about.

Anyway...

I guess I'm a ghost to her
The host of a ghost of hers

Is that why she sings to me?
Is that why it clings to me?

Has something long dead
Decayed in her head?

Does she think she's in danger
Because I'm a stranger?

I must be a ghost

I guess

Here's some music can you set the words to it? I doubt if I could.




















Here is a list of my favorite automotive terms from around the world

Il basomento del motore
Bougie
Knockerwellenlager
March Arriere
Dopplefallstromvergaser
Gudgeon pin
Zylinderkopfdekel
Torque Wrench

I was hoping to come up with 10 of 'em. Sic semper inanium

I am extremely jealous of Jeremy Denk's writing abilities, and his observational skills. Or maybe vice-versa

I am at home right at the moment, but soon I will go out to the store for groceries, and for lunch, and to the library where I can upload some pictures because I can't do it on this machine because somebody has upgraded something.

So, here I am at the aforementioned library, the jpg's are loaded and I will go to the store for some potatoes, milk, popcorn, and whatever else I can carry up the hill to my house. (onions?)
Then I will go home and arrange this post and push the publish button.

It's not today anymore, it's now tomorrow.

Here's my card.

Love and death

Once, again I would like to direct your attention to

Music & Men

for some insights into the connection between personality and failure in music making organizations.
The stuff about "eye candy" is amazingly ridiculous.
The outfit mentioned is defunct. There ya go
I do not subscribe to the opera so that I can try to imagine what Ewa Podles or Jane Eglen would look like in a bikini!!
My interest in thier lungs is solely how they power thier larynxs.
Neither one will be trying to sell me Budwieser on the telly but they are awsome artists and cultural treasures nonetheless!

My Clarinet concerto "Vally Home Killa" is done. Time to put it away and forget it.
Next on this project's list is a trombone concerto. I've decided to start it with a long glissando just to get it out of the way. As my mother always told me "if you've got a slide, you should use it"
It's the only idea I've got so far. I may go back and touch up the Horn Concerto and the Trumpet one first.

Seattle Symphony fails again

It has been three days and the Symphony has not answered my challenge. I therefore declare, by the ancient code of honor, that the Seattle Symphony agrees to be considered liars, cowards, and completely with out honor.
Who would have thought that these despicable weenies would be afraid of a creampuff?
Or a little truth?
A sad day for Seattle and the art world.

However, we still have Speight Jenkins and the world-class Seattle Opera.
Handel's Julius Ceaser in Egypt, which my wife and I attended, was a long evening of beautiful song masterfully rendered, and beautiful music played by the masterfully talented musicians from the aforementioned Seattle Symphony.

An example of the right way to run an arts organization
And an example of the wrong way.

Children beware, learn to value honor and speak truth, do your homework and cultivate decent company.
Let not vanity inform you.
Learn to follow the Golden Rule and consider others before you act.
I shudder to think of you wallowing in filth and cowardice in the gutters of Second Avenue, like the Seattle Symphony.

Let not fame, power, nor riches blind you, for these things cannot compensate for the loss of your soul.

Do not lie on job resumes to get jobs for which you are not qualified nor intelligent enough to do.

And let me see, wash your hands frequently, cover your mouth when you sneeze or yawn
drink plenty of liquids and get eight hours of sleep each night.

Hmph!, after all we've done for them.

Priests to Purify Site After Bush Visit

By JUAN CARLOS LLORCA, Associated Press Writer

Thu Mar 8, 9:20 PM

GUATEMALA CITY - Mayan priests will purify a sacred archaeological site to eliminate "bad spirits" after President Bush visits next week, an official with close ties to the group said Thursday.

"That a person like (Bush), with the persecution of our migrant brothers in the United States, with the wars he has provoked, is going to walk in our sacred lands, is an offense for the Mayan people and their culture," Juan Tiney, the director of a Mayan nongovernmental organization with close ties to Mayan religious and political leaders, said Thursday.

Bush's seven-day tour of Latin America includes a stopover beginning late Sunday in Guatemala. On Monday morning he is scheduled to visit the archaeological site Iximche on the high western plateau in a region of the Central American country populated mostly by Mayans.

Tiney said the "spirit guides of the Mayan community" decided it would be necessary to cleanse the sacred site of "bad spirits" after Bush's visit so that their ancestors could rest in peace. He also said the rites _ which entail chanting and burning incense, herbs and candles _ would prepare the site for the third summit of Latin American Indians March 26-30.

Bush's trip has already has sparked protests elsewhere in Latin America, including protests and clashes with police in Brazil hours before his arrival. In Bogota, Colombia, which Bush will visit on Sunday, 200 masked students battled 300 riot police with rocks and small homemade explosives.

Gracias, Senor Panza

butch said...

Lane Savant stands semi-tall, wearing homemade armor, made out of Alcoa aluminum wrap taped together with flattened tin cans and beer cans, hoisting a great lance, 12' long, wired and roped together in 4 pieces, and a rubber lancehead so that you will bruise your prey, but not terminate it; tilting the lance at the windmills surrounding Benaroya, standing alone to face the SSO Behemoth --yes, that is Lane Savant, world, and he will simply brook no more insults. The gauntlet is thrust upon the ground, a oven mitt wrapped silver. Do not pity this mad warrior, this fed up consumer; for in his heart he is doing something significant, even if most everyone else does not realize it. But if they had read THE STORY, and were regular readers of FEEL FREE TO LAUGH, they too would be in the know, and they would be cheering for Doug Palmer to never give in, or give up; to fight the good fight.

Thanks, Butch

The article (book revue) in the latest New Yorker is about duelling.
I think I will challenge the SSO (not the whole thing, the musicians and the people I worked with are great people)* just the one brainless turkey in HR and their snotty attourney.
YOU ARE LIARS AND COWARDS AND THERE IS NO HONOR AMONG YOU!!!
You have two days to respond or be considered just what I have called you.

* I would name some of them, but I'm afraid that the 5th floor gestapo would be bashing thier doors down some night soon.

Another meaningless moment in the history of the crazy apes.

It's the birthday of Leoncavallo
It's the birthday of C.P.E.
It's the birthday of Alan Hovahness
It's also the birthday of me.

Happy b-d 2 us
ditto
Let's kick up a fuss
line 1 again

Philharmonia Northwest

Yesterday (Sunday the 4th of March) Meredith and I attended a concert at St Stephen's
Episcopal Church. There we heard work by Gavin Bortchert, Sergei Prokofiev, and Johannes Brahms.
I truly liked the Bortchert piece much better than the Prokofiev (3rd Piano Concerto, I believe).
Gavins piece was (and may still be) titled (from memory, I can't find my notes) "Sweet Wines and Wines that foam". A pleasant piece that seemed a bit impressionistic although still very 21st century.
I got the sweet part, but didn't get anything tickling my nose.
At one moment during, however, I felt a little as if I were gliding through the air surveying the landscape below, through valleys and over cities and forests then sailing into a joyful sun.
Like one of KCTS's "Over" tapes.
"Over Gavin", I guess.

The Brahms was what Basil Fawlty once referred to as Brahms' fourth racket and it was wonderful (Duh!)

I would comment on how well it was all played, but I am a wiseass, not a critic.
Sounded fine to me.

More Seattle Symphony dirt

Anonymous said...

The Sea Symph just announced their ticket prices for the 2007-08 season. Benaroya will probably be the only concert hall in the world that charges more (MUCH more) to sit in the 3rd tier than in the 2nd tier; in fact it will be as much as a seat in the prime part of the "Orchestra" seating area. Is someone "nuts" at Benaroya or simply trying evily to bankrupt the Symphony?????

11:33 AM

Melinda Bargreen writes about this in this morning's Mar 2 Seattle Times

Your product isn't selling so you raise prices and alienate your best customers??

This is definately in accordance with my beliefs of SSO's continuing deterioration.