You call that a ride?

2.42 miles
14.42 minutes.9.8 average.
36.2 maximum speed.
1909.6 on the odometer.
Didn't feel like riding.
Didn't feel like sitting around playing computer games.
Didn't feel like reading.
Didn't feel like watching TV
Didn't feel like


Still don't

A new Woodstock nation waiting for it's Altamont.

First great political speech of the 21st century.

I'm going to have a rubber stamp made up with "Jon Stewart" on it, and every ballot I see from now on I will put his name                     
in every "uncontested" and every "write-in" spot I see.

Boo

Sitting in a restaurant waiting. Getting an infection of self awareness. Here I am a skeleton with meat rotting off.Waiting to pour food down the top hole. I've got my tombstone ordered already. From a stone carver named Pierre Chislehammer. Got a life time warranty.

Concert announcement

Yard work, weatherproofing, school, printing out scores, taking a picture of a rental house for the insurance company, yadda yadda wake me in April.
THE MESLER STUDIO
STUDENT CONCERT

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2010
7:30 pm to 9:30 pm
...The Erickson Theater (Off Broadway)
1524 Harvard Avenue
Seattle, WA 98122

* * * * * FREE ADMISSION * * * * *

Artists:

Cyndi Abenojar
Della Blazer
Jonathan Bolosan
Chase Evans
Jarred Grimes
Hayden Hunsker
Aimee Jolie
Jason Lin
Yiming Lin
Megan McConnel
Heather McKee
Tri Minh
Jennifer Oliver
Doug Palmer
Luis Vesper
Rachelle Wilson

David Paul Mesler, Director
Instructor of Piano, Voice, Composition & Songwriting

Yeah

This just in from the Safeway checkout stand!
Taylor Swift's three boyfriends are cheating on her!

Happy birthday Melva.

Been working all evening on scores and parts for a piece called "Double Play".
It's for piano and tenor saxophone.
It's a reworking of the piano and horn piece, movement 3.
It's for a performance for David's students at SCCC's Erickson theater in about 3 weeks.

I don't have a patch on my computer for saxophone, so I made one up by putting together a muted trombone and an english horn.
   
Still sounds quite unlike a sax, so rehearsal should be revealing.

So now I don't know what to do with the rest of the day.

Joycean scholorship

Joyce considered his poems music and encouraged the setting of them to music. One of the first to do so was G. Molyneaux Palmer in 1907.
Joyce told Palmer "I hope you set all of Chamber Music"
I don't know if they have all been set.
The ones I set were;
Lean out of the window, Goldenhair,
In the dark pine-wood,
Dear heart, why will you use me so?,
Ecce Puer.
Ecce Puer wasn't part of Chamber Music or Pomes Pennyeach. It was written much later on the occasion of his grandson's birth and his father's death.
Chamber Music was a portrait of a love affair that ended.
The four poems I set were an encapsulation of that affair.
Plus Ecce Puer.
I think often of setting the whole pile (50 altogether), but I always get stuck reading "I hear an army Marching on the land"  because that first line reads so well to the tune of Lili Marlene.

Testing...testing...

She said, "Is this door half open or is this door half closed?"
I said, "What the hell are you on about this time?"
She said, "Is this door half open or is this door half closed?"
I said "It's half open. It's half closed. It's both at the same time"
She said, "Why are you so afraid of commitment?"
I said "It's pretty stupid to get emotionally involved about a half-assed door."
She said,"Is that what you think of me?  I'm just some half-assed impediment to your life. Some door you want to go through? Maybe you should just throw me out"
I said, "No, that's not what I think of you, the door is at least half open...
I mean, no, I don't what to throw you out. Where the hell does that come from?"
She said,"Don't you love me?"
I said, "Of course I love you." but I didn't say it fast enough.
She said, "You don't love me."
I said, "Are you trying to say  that you don't love me?"
After a while, she said "No." She looked out side and said nothing.
I said, "Are you worried about something?"
I said, "Are you afraid of something?"
I said, "Is there someone else"
She cried for a while.

Politics

"D" is a grade that's just good enough
"R" is what pirates say
While they're stealing your stuff

Eightball in the side pocket for violin and piano

Well it won't load, here's a link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uQs_Qt-zzJs

Just to be different

I am evergreen
Hear me roar
Farewell to the weak.
Farewell to the timid.
As you change color once more.
Hear me sing
Fear not, cowardly deciduous.
Winter holds no  terror for me.
I'll be here when you chickenshit weaklings get back in spring.

Joan Sutherland

Great voice. Great lady. Great human being. Will be missed.
Rest in peace.

The video.

It's on a CD in front of me.
It's of Marjorie and David playing my violin & piano sonata.
Sometime next week if I wake up and remember how to do it.
Meredith just got cable installed in order to watch baseball, so it's hard to tell when I'll come back to earth now that there are six bazillion channels of insipid crap to poke through.
I'm taking my doofus looking self out of it.
There is also a tribute to George Shangrow on the CD, by David,
That will be a separate vid. I'll post it if David says O.K.

Robert Burns

Finally got the video of my last performance. Odd to see somebody in my shirt mumbling and waving his flippers around and talking about some music that sounds a lot like something I wrote. I think I'll edit that part out before I post it.

Fall behind.

This is one of those weird years where I'm exactly a year (or some multiple thereof)
behind so that it actually seems like it should be fall.
Which one, I haven't a clue

Closeit

The room was dark, quiet.
I had no sense of echo, as if there were no walls.
Slowly my eyes adjusted and I could see faint outlines.
The room was filled with boxes, trunks, and cartons of various sizes.
Wondering where I was, or why, I moved slowly through the maze until I came upon a cardboard carton, a wardrobe of sorts, (designed for travel?)
The door was fastened with a string which I unwrapped.
Inside I found cardboard facsimiles of people, cutouts of the famous and the obscure stacked in rows along the walls of what had now turned into a room, or perhaps another dimension, it was still dark.
Thinking that they might have have sound chips installed I tried waving my hand in front of the effigies but there was no sound.
Looking closely, I began to see familiar faces. Faces from my past. Faces of friends long forgotten, or dead, or simply drifted on.
After a time of contemplation, of examining each one, I found one of special significance
In her hand was a letter, and I knew instantly why I was drawn to this ethereal space.

Melissa.
That letter I sent her so long ago.

Melissa, what a piece of work she was.
Or rather what a piece of work I wasn't
It was quite amusing to recall my naivete, my pompous assurance that I was acting with reason.
Now I see how completely I misread the situation.
She had her hooks in me from the start, and I hadn't a chance.
Well, she agreed with me completely, praised my practicality, my wisdom, my sensibility.
Of course she did.
I could blame it on the perfume, of course, but the perfume was only a metaphor for the subconscious poison I was succumbing to.

The marriage lasted three years, two months, five days, and well, some hours, some minutes, and some seconds.
I can't say it was pure torture but, I was exposed to an almost continuous litany of my failings as a provider of "romance".
Something I foolishly thought I had made clear at the outset.
We parted amicably not having ever been together in any real sense of the word.
I repacked the carton and retreated.
Still in the dark I stumbled on a n old kerosene lantern.
Upon lighting it, I found myself in a small closet, with barely enough room to turn.