Michael Tilson Thomas

I've received some criticism for my standup routine.
What my critic doesn't seem to understand is that the routine is a classical one.
Keeping alive the routines of the classical and romantic period.
It's a thankless task, but somebody's got to do it.

Yesterday, at the library, I fount the U tube orchestra site lots of audition vids, and a clip of the LSO playing the Tan Dun "Eroica"
Why do all modern composers have to rely on quotes?
It's either "based on a theme" of somebody else.
Or an "homage"
I'm sitting there trying to listen to Tan Dun, wanting to understand where T.D. is coming from, wanting to connect with a fellow artist in the only way I will ever be able to, and all of a sudden here's Beethoven casting his way too long shadow over the proceedings.

Phooey!

But anyway MTT is mondo great for doing the thing in the first place.

Blair Tindall of "Mozart in the Jungle" fame notes that MTT has been at the SFO way past the time that most artistic directors start to excite rebellion.

Please come to Seattle "M" and replace Gerry.

I did get a kick out of the percussionist's use of brake rotors and "mag" wheels
(Aluminum, really)

But wait! there's more! right after this commercial break when I will come back and repeat my sleazeball sales pitch once again forgetting all about my promise to show you how to become a millionaire overnight while sitting on your butt and fantasizing

Hi, welcome back, now, I told you that I would show you how to become a millionaire overnight while sitting on your butt and fantasizing, and that's just what I'm going to do.
But, first, the site had these wonderful masterclass videos wherein LSO musicians demonstrated the proper ways of handling your instrument.

Educational.

Almost wish I could walk and chew gum at the same time.
Or that I had a attention

When I was in grade school they were trying to get us tykes to take up an instrument I put in for the clarinet but they had too many clarinets and talked me into trying the trombone instead.
To this day I cant figure out how to make a trombone sound like a musical instrument although I know it can be done (remember Miff Mole?)
I can't even do that "Tiger Rag" glissando that everyone who shows anybody else how the thing works can do.

Bryan was good at that.

And Bryan is a noble man.

But I can almost play a clarinet.

So it's all their fault.

All of it.

I'm tired of typing, good bye!

Today, Tomorrow, and last June.

Got two more scores in the mail.
As Woody Allen once sorta said,

"I'm not afraid of rejection,
I just don't want to be there when it happens"

Just finished watching "Make 'em Laugh" on KCTS
and have come to the realization that Bugs Bunny must have been Jewish.

And therefore beings as how I'm not as sure footed a fool as he,
I must not be.

Even though my Grandma's name was Rosen.

Actually I am more my father's child which I believe is Caledonian.

Scots and Jews, eh?

Took the family out to dinner once,
in the end the waiter paid the bill.

Zing!

........

Waiting for the results to come in,
Are you an audience or an oil painting?

Pow!

I just flew in from the bathroom,
I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe

Anything for a laugh...

How about funny faces?
Look at this, just like Harpo.

Or this, get it?
What do you mean, boo?

Awright, awright, my five minuets are up, I'm leavin'
I told my agent I didn't want to play this hick town anyway.

You rubes probably don't know what a minuet is, anyway.



Yeah, neither do I.

Call for scores

Just got the Composers salon call in the mail.
Got out there just as the mailman arrived.
Now I've only got two more to get mailed before the first.

But.

Now I'm going to worry about class on Thursday.

Not much, however.

Actually, now I'm going to read a book, the orchestral piece formerly known as the Cello Concerto is as done as I can get it.
Unless maybe I want to stick in a couple bars of 5/4 time just to confuse my audience.

But I've got all day tomorrow to do that.

Little bit of snow this morning, what is this? Winter?
Anyway, finally put the Vespa back inside
Better late than never.
Too bad I couldn't do that for the Volvo 'cause now it won't start and I haven't been able to figure out why.

Sway it goes.

The Seattle Chamber Players concert Sunday eve was terrific.
Those guys are amazing.
The music is too.
Especially the hour long (guessing at that 'cause whereas I had estimated I would be home at ten, I was actually home at eleven) solo piano piece that was a last minute feature.
Whoof!
I suppose it's classed as minimalism because of the repetitive nature, but it was anything but minimal.
The repeated arpeggiated figured evolved, revolved, and mutated slowly into one final determinately and firmly reiterated note.

Better show than the opera.

Pearl Fishers

Some people claim that this opera is better than "Carmen".
It's not.
Some people talk about the beautiful songs.
I heard some nice music, some nice, melodic strings of notes.
But I didn't hear any thing that stood out from the general sonic output that I would consider a song, or a tune.
In fact, I didn't see or hear that it had enough artistic integration to be called a finished work.
There was "nice music" but no real brilliance.
There was some nice singing.
There was some nice ballet.
And some impressive gymnastics.

The latter two going a long way to cover up the truly absurd libretto.

The story of which concerns a couple guys trying to pretend they are hetero who get into a lovers spat over an imaginary woman.

One needs to be a dedicated opera lover or the pieces mother to appreciate.

Roy Orbison did a better treatment of the theme with his "Leah"

I, on the other hand, whether I'm considering a piece of music, or a painting, or a building or an automobile, think in terms it's of global artistic integrity.

Being a fan of the automotive arts, I can appreciate a Skoda, a Twombly, or an Alldays and Onions, along with the Ferrari and the Porsche (356 series) of even the heartbreakingly lovely (original) Lotus Elite.

So I imagine that true opera lovers will cling to what they can salvage from this disconnected mish-mash of artistic genres.
And more power to 'em.

My favorite part was when I realized that the conductor of this trolley was none other than the despised orchesterfuhrer of the more than despised Seattle Symphony Orchestra.
I immediately began calculating a proper trajectory for lofting one of my shoes.
I had almost determined that it would take a 45deg launch to land on top of his shiny little head when I remembered that I was wearing the shiny, roomy, comfortable Kenneth Cole's that I got from St Vincent's for seven dollars and decided that discretion was as Falstaff described.

Anyway, I have no real animosity toward the short little trumpeter, it's just that he is the outward face of the SSO, toward which I do have animosity, not to mention outright hostility and even the ever popular HATRED.
I think it would be a blow for freedom and justice if the collection of social flotsam that calls itself the Seattle Symphony Orchestra were shipped to the democratic (and now Christian free) paradise of Iraq.
The whole sixth floor.

So that was last night.
Tonight it's the Chamber players with my all time favorite flutist Paul Taub.
The flutist who played my "Quasimodo's Dream Waltz" is an all time favorite, too, but for different reasons.

Library

O.K. I'm at my local branch.
With enough onlilne speed to actuall read all of Glenn's posts on FFTR.
I tried once again to contact Qwest to order a hi-speed hookup but was once again mired in the hysteresis of their site.
At one point, I even had a connection with a live person but wasn't able to finish my question before the thing disappeared and went to a different page.
I'll try calling on the phone when I get home.

I hope you've all enjoyed the links to the previous posts.

Now I'm gouing to do battle with KING-FM's site to try to find Melinda Bargreen's review of the MTT horn piece.
Zach Carstenen has promised a review on Gathering note

Gathering Note

but I havn't found it yet.

I'm curious to see how accurate my BS review is.

Wide world of Music.

Don't read this ridiculous site, go to

M. K. Talvi

and read the review of the
Vilnius String Quartet presented by the Seattle Lithuanian Community, at Latvian Hall.

I had a Latvian friend in high school, Dzintra Zamelis, wonder how she's doin'?

Then visit

Jannie Funster

for the hilarious ukulele song.

But don't bother with this one 'cause I'm not talkin'




I made a ukulele once, for Patricia Kim, wonder how it's doin'?

For cran and for dorsen

The MTT piece "Street Song" for Symphonic Brass was magnificant.
The golden glow of the instruments produced a golden tone that was, at the same time, smooth, liquid, edgy, and sonorous.
The lithe horizontals capered over the lush verticals in a way that lifted me into an ethereal plane of existence.
While the masterful treatment of the harmonic distribution was matched only by the genius of the intervallic modulation.
Hats off, gentlemen.
I almost wish I coulda' been there.

Could have used more cowbell, though.

Today the trip downtown was thwarted when I discovered all the computers were in use.
Ran into a SSO acquaintance though, and a little BS session more than compensated for the loss.
Live conversation is best.

But I did get to my Q.A coffee shop.
Settled for a tall drip alone this time.
Meredith made some some cinnamon rolls yesterday and one of those along with the cheerios and coffee was enough carbohydrates for the day.
In fact, with all the time saved by not being able to use the SPL computer, I used up some time at SCCC and ended up chewing a pepperoni stick from their snack bar.

The symphonic piece progresses by leaps and bounds.
I hope I finish it soon, 'cause I'm almost out of bounds.

Vale

Hangover today

O.K. Trying to maintain this silly grin, pretending that I'm so friggen happy that I get this wonderful opportunity to sit here and write my very own
music is beginning to make my ears sag and my teeth hurt.
Making fun of my own stupid self, even if I deserve it, wears after a while.

BUT

The victory isn't mine, is it.

Great day for them, but I'm still barred from Benaroya hall.
I don't even get a back entrance standing room spot.
Did want to hear the S.F. with MTT.
Would like to hear his symphonic brass piece.

But no, I'm threatened with arrest if I so much as show up on their side of the street.
No point in bearing it nobly.
Might as well be obnoxious.

Screw the little gang of fascist punks!

I wonder if a day of feeling O.K. about the world is worth this aftermath.
It certainly cured me of drinking to excess.

And driving too fast.

D.I.L.

Meredith is at school celebrating some sort of political event.
Any of you know what that's about?

Anyway I went to the store in my old neighborhood where I bought my first house and resolved to stay put and become part of the "community"
Don't know how well that turned out but I have four friends who live there.
I still own my house there.
Is a tenant considered a friend? He gives me money on a regular basis.

At the Starbucks, I ordered the usual tall drip.
And a croissant.
When I started to drink the coffee, it turned out to be a latte.
An Omen if ever I saw one (or tasted one)

Anyway I ate, drank, bought food and scurried home.
But not before checking out the new Bartell's they put in where the BP gas station used to be.
Accidentally bought a box of candy for Meredith.
I considered that such a nice thing to do that I bought one for myself as a reward for being so thoughtful.

Gassed up the Prius 383.4 miles on 8.642 gals.

Now I'm fooling around on the 'net.

Also thinking about James Brown.
And Doctor Huxtable.
Ray Charles.
Rochester.
Benson.

Putney Swope.

Idi Amin!

For some strange reason I had a good nights sleep and woke up chr...um...chre...
cheerful! that's the word.
I wonder if I should see a doctor about this alarming change in my mental health.

I am so glad at the passing of the guard.
I don't even get any yuks out of bashing the drunken idiot any more.
But...and this is a big but, will it be P.C. to make fun of the new one?

Think about it, all you political cartooners

Think about it Seth Meyers.

I'm retired and I don't have to think about anything anymore.

P.S. I called my shrink and she suggested reading the newspaper.
The front pages, not just the comics.
I'm not sure about such drastic measures, I can quit any time.

Egmont, Fidelio, Vodka and Frostbite

Khachaturian's "Bell." also makes me feel not-so-bad about my latest orchestral piece.
I like loud noisy pieces and it's good to know other guys can get away with it.

But It's coming along,
My ex-cello concerto.
Lively and entertaining.
Has a nice beat, you can dance to it.
If you've got an odd number of legs.
Anyway it was a nice concert that the Seattle Philharmonic gave yesterday.
Besides the Khachaturian's "Bell", they played Beethoven's "Egmont" overture and incidental music.
Incidental music sounds a bit odd out of the context of the play, but it's Beethoven so you've got to like it whether you like it or not.

And I do.

I'm going to go downstairs and replace the rear wheel on Fidelio now.
I've got one that has a chain fence on it to keep the chain from jumping and ruining another wheel.
Also, I think the axle is stronger.
The old one is hollow and appears to be bent.
The rear gears have been wobbling for a while.
Which may have some bearing on the chain jumping problem.
Seems to be a strange thing to happen to a bicycle axle.
It also has a wimpy little bolt holding it on.

Gonna fix all that.

See ya on the trail, pilgrim.

Aleatory Collocation of Vocables

I've just been listening to John Adams "Dr. Atomic" on the radio and I don't feel so bad that my "Cello concerto" doesn't seem to be going anywhere.
Only It's not a cello concerto anymore.
Just a piece for orchestra.
Rhythm-based and noisy over which I'm trying to float some melody.
But the problem is that when one thinks of cello tunes the magnificently graceful "Swan" by...by... Saint Saens? gets in the way of cooking up with a suitable couple of bars.
The viola didn't give me that sort of problem.
So now it's just an orchestral thing.

Just stayed up all night reading a book called "Charlatan" by Pope Brock.
About a guy who got incredibly wealthy slicing people open and inserting bits of Goat glands and taking their money.
He was also a radio broadcast pioneer who is more or less responsible for the creation of the "infomercial" selling useless "medicine" through a radio medical diagnosis program.
At one time his "border-blaster" station based on the border in Mexico was the largest in the world.
After the usual hubris that this kind of thing brings, the station became home of Wolfman Jack and was a major influence in the rise of popular music in this country by introducing America to the rhythms and tunes of her rural areas.

So the question in my mind and many of yours, no doubt is "what does it take to be this kind of a people mover"?
How do you fool so many of the people so much of the time?

I like to study these kinds of anomalies of common sense because I think it has a lot to do with "art".
Leading one's audience into listening things they wouldn't necessarily consider music.
One of my favorite handbooks on the subject is Velikovsky's "When Worlds Collide"
I read it and know its nonsense, but go along for the ride anyway.
Another "learning experience" of course, is the many times I've fallen for salesmen's pitches.
Ending up with subscriptions for magazines I'm not the least bit interested in reading.

So, I try to incorporate these techniques, these mechanisms, into my music.
Start out with some nice tonal harmonic hook and lead you into whatever evil stuff.
I'm trying to corrupt your mind with.
Without your suspecting a thing.
Make promises.
Ameliorate suspicion with lies to explain lies.
Demanding further wastes of time.
Getting out of town before the sheriff arrives.
Manipulating your ears with wiggly air 'till you actually believe you've not wasted more of your valuable, rapidly evaporating time.

Sort of like what you are doing at this very moment!

Anyway, my mind begins to wander and I must chase after.

Speed of light

Just spent an hour trying to renew our opera subscription and post the score for the cello duet on facebook.
Both operations were failures.

Now I'm going to go off line and work on the crappy music I waste my time writing.

A tale of two hillies

I did exactly as I said I would about a bike ride.

Took the Chief Sealth trail to Beacon hill.
Through an infestation of closely spaced new houses in the various development along the way.
Dropped a chain which jammed and stopped me for about 15 minutes.
Dropped it again later and ended up the ride with a bent rear wheel.
How that happened, I dunno.
I didn't go all the way to Jefferson Park.
rode down Holgate then North on Occidental then to the stadium and then West to the waterfront trail which goes North to the sculpture garden and on to Dravus where I crossed the railroad and headed to the top of Queen Anne.
Sorry, I didn't ride up Dravus, I walked.
Once atop the hill, I rode to my usual stopping place at the Queen Anne Starbucks for an egg salad sandwich and some hot chocolate.

Took the usual route home, down 3rd W along the Burke Gilman to the UW then along the Lake.
Stopped at Leshi, the place where I've promising you all (and Y'all) a picture but still forgot the camera.

Usually, I lose about 4 pounds doing a 30 miler.
No such luck this time.

Not that I need to lose any but, hey, everybody's doin' it and I don't wanna be left out.
Left out is the position I always got chosen for in highschool.
Scarred me for life Know What I'm Sayin'

Anyway here's what the computer says

Miles - 31.7,
Time - 3:39:01 hours
Average speed - 8.6 mph (pathetic)
Maximum speed - 39.3 mph (down Holgate to the Industrial area).
Well into my second millenium at 1163 total miles
Air temperature 45 deg. - 43deg. (got colder as I went along).

So now I've got to do some serious maintenance on the Pooj.

I've been going through the FFTL archives reading all my own posts and am starting to realize that I may have to get myself in some kind of trouble again because I'm heading toward some apathy about all that SSO nonsense.
Don't even feel much like laughing about it.
But, you now, human feelings are sneaky little buggers, aren't they?

I posted pics of Gokwiis on Click and Clacks facebook site.
Some Volkswagen Owner thinks its ugly.
A Volkswagen Owner!
Some one else thinks it's cool.
Wait'll I show 'em the VW/Ferrari.

Which I think I'll do now.

Now What?

Bike ride?
Relatively nice day.
Cello concerto still sucks.
My hit counter stopped working.
Contemplate Ukulele song.
Jannie Funster.
See ya later.

More about the Seattle Symphony.

Watched "Lars and the Real Girl" last night.
It's a science fiction story about a village that likes to play with dolls.

Which helps Lars practice up on some socialization that he apparently missed out on when he was younger.

Anyway, Lars is feeling a bit left out because time and genetic history seem to be passing him by.
Having developed virtually no social skills he decides to practice on a vinyl simulacrum.

Then the whole friggin' town joins him in his "relationship" with the thing and everything turns out dory of the hunkiest variety.

Voila, he is "cured"

I guess.

A truly otherworldly fantasy on the lines of "It takes a village" or "No child left Behind" or "Communism" or most of the advertising propaganda weirdo religious cults come up with.

A herd of humans that creating a health giving environment?

What planet?

Then too, one sometimes wonders about the value of a "normal" life.

Yesterday Meredith got this thing in the mail inviting her to the inaugural mob show in D.C..
Probably they want to get 'em all together in the town square so they can shoot 'em all at once instead of wasting a lot of time and money chasing 'em down one at a time.

The votes have been cast the power obtained, what good are they now?
Just going to hang around expecting things to be different, aren't they?
Time to trim the fat and eliminate baggage.

I'm not going, that's for sure.

Only place I'm going is out to Pacific Iron and Metal so Meredith can look for foam for the chair rehabilitation project.

I'll be doing that right after I post this.

Well I may go over to my Facebook site and post a bunch of "status updates" trying to annoy Seth Meyers.
He made a comment on "Weekend Update" about people who post the updates every five minutes being losers.

Which illustrates quite profoundly my thesis about the movie.
The real world doesn't give a shit about us lonely losers whose social lives are conducted mainly in this internetial imaginarium.

Hey, at least we're off the street.
Where you cant splash mud on us with your ugly four-wheel drive SUVs

So sit on it, Seattle Symphony!!

Was there ever a creepier word than "socialization"?

On the street where we live

The part of the bluff we live on doesn't slide.

Last night I heard the world's only female reciter (singer?) of Kurt Schwitters "Usonate"
A DADA work using the human voice as a musical instrument.
Been thinking about Ella Fitsgerald ever since.
And, of course that whole period in history (the 20s and 30s)
Also about Oliver Sacks' book "Musicophilia", insights into the workings of the brain.
Music and language occupy different parts of the brain.
I'll probably have more to say about this later.
Then again, maybe not.

Madam, I'm a Canal

I was just looking in the mirror and noticed that my Obama'O8 is just this side of being a palindrome.
I mean if it was Obama80 it would be (still almost but closer)
And...
There is a "Palin" in palindrome.
Just what the heck is going on here, anyway?

Somebody should investigate soon.

I went back to the mess that was the Cello concerto and it didn't seem so bad today.
But I wrote some more possibilities anyway.
Who knows, it might end up as a bagpipe sonata instead.
Herding unknown noises can be tricky biznizz.

So speaking of morning associated bakery products.
I am recently reminded of a famous quote which ran afoul of the subtleties of language.
Now correct me if I'm wrong...
(Although, now that I think about it, I'd rather you didn't.)

The quote is "Ich bin ein Berliner".
A Berliner is a jelly filled doughnut.

The proper way to try to claim a relationship to a venerable city that you didn't actually earn is to say

"Ich bin Berliner".

I mean to be one you have to live there.

But that's just my hypothesis, here's the conclusion

Considering the vast vast difference between my life experience and that of
the person who is alleged to have made that remark brings me to a conclusion that I probably have a right, and if not a right, then at least an inevitability for resentment.
So therefore I like to dream that what's his, rich, never have to actually work for a living, born with a silver spoon, name had visited Vienna and made the same trifling mistake.

Vienna is spelled Wien and pronounced Veen.
You figure the rest.

The rider may occasionally be aware of the horse, but the horse is always aware of the rider.

So much for the hierarchies of great ape societies.

....

O.K. He would have called himself a Veener which would translate back to us calloused hand types as "Weiner"

Much too good for them, I say.

I'm always suspicious of those who entice us to "hope", "look to the future" and "dare to dream".

"hoping", "looking to the future" and "daring to dream" is the lemming's problem.

All of which I fell for when I was incarcerated in public school.

And, amazingly enough, for someone as superbly intelligent as I, still fell for when I did volunteer for the Seattle Symphony.

And you know what? Some of it clings to me still.

I hope you enjoyed this post.

And we're off !

First off, I'd like to thank all the dead people who comment on my site.
Some are even contributing poetry.

CUSTER'S LAST STANZA

I was the last man
standing, even though
I knew what awaited.

My locks were as golden
as the braidwork on my
uniform, only longer.

Though Crazy Horse was
taller than me, he still
cut me down.

I rode astride Comanche,
but mostly it was the Sioux
who pierced my veil.

Arrowheads hurt a hell
of a lot more than bullets,
believe me.

George Armstrong Custer

Second off, I finally remembered where I got that bit of music I talked about yesterday.
It's from a Beyonce song about fingers or something.
I remembered the descending scale as from a Stones song about 19 nervous breakdowns.
But also from some Nutcracker and many others

So, anyway, I spent two hours yesterday trying to fashion my own descending scale and chordal version of same into something brilliant for cello and orchestra.

I got a minute and a half out of it, then went back and listened to the Viola concerto. Which still sounds great to me.

Upon returning to the cello piece, I noticed that it was incomprehensible gibberish.

Which was kind of disappointing.

But the first bits usually are, because I'm basically just jotting down notes without any solid idea what the thing is going to turn out to be.

Lots of work ahead.

Third off, I'm off.

Going out to buy stuff with Meredith.

Aren't we lucky?

We had to wait all year for snow in'08 but this year we get it right off.
I do hope that it lets up a bit for Thursday when I get back in the swing of my artistic career.
'cause as the Duke (the other one)(not Nukem or Wayne) says,

"It doesn't have very much significance if it doesn't rock back and forth in an energetic but graceful and pleasing manner".

Which translates into "if it's got a nice beat, you can dance to it".

Or something.

So, once again my day lacks bloggable significance.
I've been practicing lethargy and intend to keep on till I get it right.
Then, perhaps I can move on to ennui.

Ennui can all dance in the streets.

I do have a little phrase wafting its way from ear to ear like a lost soul, plaintively mewing.

"Would I not make a nice base for a cello concerto?"
A nice chicken broth for the orchestral stew?

Well, it's possible, and tomorrow, perhaps, I will enter the museyroom and confront that harmonial journey
And we all know what Shakespeare said about tomorrow (and he said it three times, too).

It's creepy, that's what he said.

But this evening I have my choice of a channel nine exposition concerning Gorillas acting like a bunch of apes.

Or talking to you.

Frankly I think there has been too much ape-like activity going on in the last eight years.
The fact that it has been going on forever is just too much to think about.

Yes, we are all great apes. Some greater than others. But shouldn't there be a more profound delineation between us and the ones who live in trees and let their feces fall on anyone below?
When you compare the social sophistication of a three-year-old human and a similarly aged Chimpanzee you see that we start to grow away from their behavior characteristics early.
We certainly should be able to behave civilly by the time we are old enough to run a corporation, or a country, or an Orchestra.

I have been contemplating Blair Tindall's marvelous book (Mozart in the Jungle on the subject of the dehumanization of the arts (specifically music) by greed-induced funding misuse.
The word to the wise for the day is "Jungle"

Maybe our new leadership will provide us with a better example.

as the great poet P.D.Q. Dickinson once said,

"Hope is that thing with feathers that -
flaps around -
squawking -
About how bloody valuable it is and -
Craps on your hair -
the -
minute -
you get a hold of it"

So that's what I did today.

Party

Had a good time last night.
Talked to musicians about music.
Got a couple chances to prate on about Getting 86'd from B-hall.
Ate from more sugar based food groups.

Cows, have four stomachs, one of which actually brews beer.
Budweiser lists rice as one of it's ingredients, but it's difficult to imagine grass-based brewery.
So anyway, fermentation is basically the conversion of sugars (there are lots of 'em)
into alcohol.
Which might explain why I just fell out of my chair.

jissa sec, i got to put the keyboard back on the table.

izzit still working?

O.K. sorry about that.

Where was I?

Is it a nice day?

Am I alone?

Am I going for a ride?

Do I know what I will find there?

Will Butch get sued by Paul McCartney if he makes a poem out of that?

Tune in later for answers to these and many more questions when I will have probably forgotten all about.

The End

Post for the day '09

I thought that writing every day was supposed to improve my writing skills.
That's why you're s'posed to keep a journal.
But then, what do I need with writing skills?
Unlikely to be winning any glory by yapping about oats and milk for breakfast.
Or how I got tossed out of B-Hall.

I need some "life experience" to write about.
Of course, "life experience" takes real time.
Leaving little time to pound the old qwerty.

Tonight is the salon "office party".
Perhaps some major circumstance will fire my imagination and enhance my legend.

But...so what? I can hear you asking yourselves.
Which is a pretty good trick on the 'net.

News flash!!!

Seattle Opera announces next season.

Three Verdis (big surprise)

And a premier from the keyboard of Daron Aric Hagen.
(even bigger surprise)

The premier is "Amelia" (May 8-22), a Viet-nam based drama *(see note below)

The Verdis are;

Traviata (Oct 7-13)
Trovatore (Jan 16-30)
and
Falstaff (Feb 27 - Mar 13)

*note below
I have a spot of trouble with art based on major world events.
Especially political events which are for the most part fabrications in the first place.
You read the headlines, now see it live!
I realize that the pathos of death and injustice make for easier emotional impact, but that seems a bit like cheating to me.
A way of blackmailing the audience into taking the work seriously.
Who is going to boo a guy getting himself killed in an idiotic inanity like Vietnam?
Or some naive girl getting her self sacrificed in some ritual beyond her control.
Of course folks are going to react.
Why not just paint it on velvet with the eyes especially big?

My dramatic hero is James Joyce.
Whose Leopold Bloom is just "some guy" going through a day that could be typical for any of us.
As were his "Dubliners"
But great stories nonetheless, alive with the vitality of the moment.
All stories end with death, it's not the point.

An example, "Carmen" is not about how she died, it's about how she lived.
"Rigoletto" is not about a dead girl, it's about what kind of man Rigoletto was.

Phooey! this is gibberish, goodbye.

365 - 1

After the oatmeal and crossword part of the day was dealt with, I sawed out a couple pieces of wood that M, needed for a chair restoration project, then spent the day building a Duke map.
Then the last of the chili for dinner and here I am.

Seems that I remember thinking last year that the new year would bring much musical success.
As I do every year.
So 2008 saw the recording session and some string quartet pieces.

Facebook that turned out to be fun even though the cello duet almost but not quite happened.

We took the train south to Ariz. and N.Mex.
That was fun.

Bought a new car.

And laid around the house a lot doing squat.

Which, come to think of it is pretty much what we do when we are "getting away from it all" in some secluded avenue.

Yeah, went to Loch Aerie too, I think.

11 or 12 book group meetings. Fun. Hardly ever read the books. too much Social Significance.

Social Significance is something I've been trying to acquire to very little avail.

Couple of new people commenting on this site.

I'm sure there's lots of other stuff that happened but generally speaking, I like to let the past be the past.
Remembering it only adds to the monotony.
The past, the future, and the now all seem to be near as dammit identical.

I'm anxious about the salon office party tomorrow evening, I like parties, something interesting about hanging around parties.

So...now what?

Next year?

Let's have another one same as the other one.

Same as it ever was.

One down and three hundred sixty four to go.

No pictures today.