Today
As I looked out my window this morning, I saw the yard. Smooth grass peeking over the windowsill. The large bush off to the right. Then I realised that my window is on the second floor! So I had to fire up the old Honda and shorten the lawn a bit.
Turns out the large bush was actually the 20 foot tall apple tree!
Then I went to Folklife festival heard a great percussion jam session on a bunch of marimbas, including a gigantic double-bass that had me planning how to make one for myself. Not that I have any room for the darn thing.
Also, besides digeredoos, blues guitarists, child flautists, violinists, cellists, banjoists,etc, I heard a wonderful hammered dulcimer trio. One of those things is ethreal enough, but three together is O.T.W. (as DeKoven used to put it) or even O.T.G.
My lovely and talented ex-wife doesn't like my new picture.
That's because the old one is a fuzzy silouette and you can't see all the wrinkles or my beady little pig eyes.
I guess.
Anyway, I still love the folklife festival. I always visit the musical instrument craftsman showroom.
I am always jealous because the workmanship is several orders of magnitude better than mine.
My goal in life has always to raise myself to mediocracy, and, whether or not I've made it, I'll let myself believe I have.
Derrick, my brother in law's 3-year-old boy is outside right this moment banging on the big 5-foot gong I made from the end of an oil tank.
O My!! I've got to get a score printed and bound and to the Northwest Symphony Orchestra call for scores. Not that they'll actually want the darn thing. I keep trying. It's the third movement of the clarinet concerto and I don't have the faintest idea of a name to call it so that it sounds like a piece in itself.
Plus, my printer cartridge is running out and the next two days are holidays and my composition class is one of them and the thing is due the 1st!!
It features neither Double-Bass Marimbas nor hammered dulcimers (love that sound).
Turns out the large bush was actually the 20 foot tall apple tree!
Then I went to Folklife festival heard a great percussion jam session on a bunch of marimbas, including a gigantic double-bass that had me planning how to make one for myself. Not that I have any room for the darn thing.
Also, besides digeredoos, blues guitarists, child flautists, violinists, cellists, banjoists,etc, I heard a wonderful hammered dulcimer trio. One of those things is ethreal enough, but three together is O.T.W. (as DeKoven used to put it) or even O.T.G.
My lovely and talented ex-wife doesn't like my new picture.
That's because the old one is a fuzzy silouette and you can't see all the wrinkles or my beady little pig eyes.
I guess.
Anyway, I still love the folklife festival. I always visit the musical instrument craftsman showroom.
I am always jealous because the workmanship is several orders of magnitude better than mine.
My goal in life has always to raise myself to mediocracy, and, whether or not I've made it, I'll let myself believe I have.
Derrick, my brother in law's 3-year-old boy is outside right this moment banging on the big 5-foot gong I made from the end of an oil tank.
O My!! I've got to get a score printed and bound and to the Northwest Symphony Orchestra call for scores. Not that they'll actually want the darn thing. I keep trying. It's the third movement of the clarinet concerto and I don't have the faintest idea of a name to call it so that it sounds like a piece in itself.
Plus, my printer cartridge is running out and the next two days are holidays and my composition class is one of them and the thing is due the 1st!!
It features neither Double-Bass Marimbas nor hammered dulcimers (love that sound).
Labels: Bass Marimba, Bears, Hammered Dulcimer
posted by Lane Savant at 6:02 PM
3 Comments:
Dougie:
I loved reading this wonderful stream of consciousness of yours, but intially I had no response. Still don't actually, but then hell, that has never stopped me before, right?
You make the Folklife Festival sound like a grand experience. What exactly is a hammered dulcimer. Kristi once made one, aznd played it. My lovely Melva made one as a kid, and it sits proudly on a shelf in our furnace room --but I don't know if either of them is, or was, hammered.
Odd that Liz, the practice wife you had, would not like or throroughly appreciate your new head shot. Really, the more I stare at it, the more I like it. It is like something on the jacket or the back cover of a book of poetry, or book of compositions. I have been slowly amassing your poetry as it has appeared here on the blogsite, and putting it into a slim volume of PALMER POETRY on my auntie's website, 1millionstories.com. So keep it coming, and I will keep putting it in your book.
As to your "beady little pig eyes", they are non-existant, sir. It just looks that way to you, in the mirror, because when you don't have your glasses on. Or hell, maybe you're right, and I just never have noticed those porkine orbs before. Could be that's why women are frightened of you sometimes. They are always checking out a man's eyes, looking for something --God knows what.
Maybe next year you should enter the Musical Instrument Craftsman
Showroom, just for fun, so that more people can see the instruments you have created. Who cares if they do not sound like angels strings when they are plucked and strummed and twanged and blown into. It would be a fun time for you, and it would bring some well needed levity to the whole affair. But knowing you, you will probably never push yourself out there for the public to enjoy and ridicule and throw vegetables at. I have been there, and I still have the tomato stains to prove it. If you get up the balls to open a booth in the Showroom, I will volunteer to man it with you, and I will read poetry while you accompany me on a variety of instruments. My poetry, yours, and Richard Brautigan. I have just finished reading THE HAWKLINE MONSTER: A Gothic Western, by Brautigan. I can hardly wait for the next 5 Brautigan books to arrive from Amazon.com. As one critic put it,"I could read Brautigan until the cows come home." Do you have a lot of his books? You must have some, right? If not we can share mine, later, after I have read them all several times.
Derrick sounds like a charmer. You haven't mentioned your stepson much lately. Nor have you satiated our curiousity about the PALMER ROAD TRIP. Yeah, I know, all in good time. How about titled your clarinet concerto, CCIII?
Glenn
Speakig of Richard Brautigan, let's dig some of his poetry now. All together now....
Sweet Rose
"Man, are you high?"
Yes!
High off life,
off life and off love.
Off love, in love, for
Mine mind's eye
Doth not lie
Mine heart's sight
Doth see right,
Yet how can this I say to you,
For I knoweth not how to woo?
Brats
Unapreciative little brats,
We were,
Lying on the couch,
Yelling. Screaming,
"Food!" "Juice!" and "Done!"
And Him
The divorced father,
Running. Running
To and Fro,
Unmindful of what he was doing.
Doing to himself,
and us
Fall Back
Another hour gained tonight
Another hour gained to write
Time within which to contemplate
Why does this clock my life arbitrate?
Thought
Nothing is more blinding at night
Than a fluorescent light
Nothing makes it harder to hear
Than a noise in one's ear
Nothing makes it hader to think
Than thought
Can you dig it? Sure you can.
Glenn
Hallo, Doug!
Best wishes for your Clarinet Concerto. No worry about name; simply call it what composers have traditionally named their concerti: "Concerto #1 for Clarinet and Orchestra".
Keep submitting your work; "Nothing ventured, nothing gained has always been my motto".
One of Regina Hildebrandt's (recently deceased German politician, one of the few who stuck to her principles and was/is consequently much-admired, including by my "Lovely Librarian" is "One who never tries always loses".
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