Cup O' Joe, Hold the Show

At one time or another we've all laid down our twelve dollars for an afternoon matinee & another forty five (after coupon has been applied) for a small coke & popcorn only to walk away dejected from yet another dismal, over hyped, Hollywood production that's long on special effects & short on substance. On a brighter note however, we can always take heart in the knowledge that it's time we'll never recover while realizing we're now 3.5 hours closer to the grave.

I recently emailed a friend about this very troublesome inconvenience. For the sake of anonymity we'll call my friend "Allen Wayne Law." I shared with "Allen Wayne Law" I must be getting older because most movies, concerts, & certainly prime time television programming just aren't doing it for me anymore.

If given the choice, I would pick a good book in a comfy couch or love seat (the over sized kind you sink down into) with a hot cup-o-joe on a quiet, overcast, late winter's eve. If that officially makes me over the hill then supply me my walker, denture adhesive, & one way ticket to beautiful sunny southern Florida.

You see, the older I've become, the more I crave knowledge. And for whatever reason, it would appear the masses don't necessarily want to explore the great mysteries of the universe in a two hour presentation over a box of teeth rotting sour gummy worms. Please don't misunderstand me, I have my brain drain movie favorites as well. I just grow tired of a steady diet of predictable plots, special effects ad nauseum, & only tall, dark & thin leading actors under the age of 25 saving the day. Why can't short, overweight, slightly balding middle aged dudes ever save the day? Huh? Or why can't the leading actress be an elderly grandmother who triumphantly rushes to the crime scene in her spotless white Cadillac to rescue her great granddaughter from the evil disorganized community college financial aid office!? I can see it now (in that over the top Super Hero narrative inflection) - "Armed with only impeccable credit, In one crushing blow, our hero (great granny) swipes her debit card destroying any hopes the institution might have of suspending her precious great granddaughter for insufficient funds!

Fade to black. Roll credits.

Now THAT'S a reality show I could support! Wooden shoe agree? So until Hollywood can return to a more enduring, artistic approach to movie making, I'll mostly be content to explore the memoirs of political figures, psychology, & complex gourmet recipes in the privacy of my home. I might have a long wait. ;0)

Pathways In The Sky

This morning the rarest of arctic fronts pushed its way far enough southward to the weather-worn doorsteps of my humble abode as the frigid, tranquil January night gave way to the hopes & dreams of a new dawn. Red neck translation: It was frickin' cold as a you know what in a brass you know what! X-Files material for south Houston I promise! I keep warning those who will lend me their ear of the dangers concerning man made, self inflicted global cooling the human populace conveniently pretends isn't a catastrophic time bomb waiting to annihilate precious life as we know it on this grand, celestial, blue marble. Be that as it may, I went outside to start my wife's aging 2000 Pontiac Grand Am. She has been away for several days in Missouri & I felt it wise to start her engine & let it run, lest we potentially face a dead battery upon her return.

Even though I was only out in the elements for a handful of seconds, I discovered yet another reason why winter is hands down my favorite time of year. All the otherwise camouflaged activity above us is completely exposed during winter months for human observation. E.G., meticulously constructed abandoned bird's nests, squirrels leaping to & fro, a plump woodpecker gearing up to peck, the next door neighbor's clogged gutter, etc., etc.,

It's a world unto it's own that most, understandably, ignore during warmer months when bazillions of leaves obstruct our view. Like pathways in the sky, fowl, squirrels, frightened (yet arrogant) house cats, tree frogs, koalas, toucans & Brasilian Spider Monkeys (if you happen to reside in Rio, New South Wales, or Kenya) to name a few, traverse from one tree to the next like you & I mosey down our block on our way to the nearest Sam's Club. Talk about same planet different worlds! Impressive to witness if you take even a moment such as I did on this rarest of mornings. Take time to smell the flowers. Better still, take time to warm your spouses car. =0)

010110

True Story. I was a total failure to my two piano teachers growing up. The first one learned early on that I played by ear. She told my mother not to worry. She would simply solve the "problem" by not giving me anything to play I had previously heard. I guess living in rural Oklahoma she didn't get the memo that there were studio musicians in L.A. making a comfortable living using their "ears" the same way I did.

The second teacher was just flat out weird. He & his wife taught out of offices in their morbidly depressing stale, dingy, dark home that smelled like an ash tray with dim lighting. What's worse, their dysfunctional teenage son raised cain to incoming students in their living room waiting for their lesson time. At one point I even remember getting in trouble by the mom for (get this) letting her simmering beans in the kitchen burn! Now how was I to know? Hey lady, if you don't know how to properly soak & simmer your beans for dinner there's not much some little insecure fourth grade dude planted on your couch waiting for musical instruction from your Frankensteinesque husband can offer!

She never picked up her feet either when she walked...which always bugged me. I half expected her to electrocute herself to oblivion every time she walked across her living room with the amount of static she had to be accumulating. Sheesh. It's like she was cross country skiing only minus the the skis, snow & country.

I started to type the words "I never practiced" but that's not entirely true. A more accurate statement would be "I seldom practiced the highly disposable compositions I was assigned". Like- "Ten Lil' Indians" (shouldn't that be "Ten Lil' Native Americans"???) or some doofus song about two dogs doing tricks, Beer Barrel Polka, astronauts descending to the surface of the moon (granted, the cover on that sheet music was cool) or some obese bullfrog perched on his frickin' Lilly pad waitin' for flies. As they say on ESPN...'Come On Man!"

I might have been in Elementary School but I wasn't that stupid! You think some lame tune about a silly Circus Calliope coming to town is going to make me the life of the party? Puh-lease!

Instead, I spent my practice time trying to recreate such enduring classical masterpieces as "Eye of the Tiger" by the world renowned late 20th century composers from the spirited ensemble "Survivor".

Okay, okay. In all fairness I did pick up a few things musical along the way about bird's eyes, whole & half rests & Every Good Boy Does Fine (updated version: Every Greedy Bad Democrat Fails).

So all was not lost.

By early Jr. High the great experiment conducted to mold me into a classically trained pianist ended abruptly one afternoon when my parents received a hand written letter in the mail from none other than Egor/The Hunchback of Notre Dame himself saying "Don't ever come back."

Don't worry!!!!

"...And there was much rejoicing!" (quietly in the confines of my back bedroom of course) ;-)

Which brings us to our little binary title of today's entry. You see, I wasn't like many a traditional music student. I approached the piano the same way I do a new year...as a fresh, blank canvas with endless possibilities. I don't oppose Structure/formal training in the least (I have a Bachelor's & a Master's to prove it). It certainly has it's place. But so does limitless, unshackled imagination. In my humble but accurate opinion the two worlds are by no means mutually exclusive. That's how light bulbs, the telephone & Beethoven's 9th ever came about.

Like Physicians, there are many different kinds of musicians. Some are superb accompanists who can virtually read fly droppings from twenty yards. Others have devoted their life's work to the complexities of the human heart. Some are double reed specialists, while others are a voice for the dead (Pathology). Still others can bang out a mean tune to boogie to on the dance floor while some go into family practice.

So not only does one size not fit all, but one size should never fit all! Our Creator embedded each of our hard drives with a slightly different skill set (& many variations there of) to cultivate & use. That's what keeps the world spinning dawg! ;-) As we've all heard before..."It takes all kinds..."

Today the old has been torn away, revealing a fresh, unused canvas with the new year upon us. What a perfect opportunity to push your confines. Choose your colours wisely.

Currier & Ives

December was once hands down my favorite month of the year. That was long before I had the responsibility of making rent, paying monthly utilities, & taking out a loan for a tank of gas while simultaneously not letting little ones down. I guess it's safe to say I find myself not nearly as enthused about the holidays as I once was. The religious community doesn't help either. Oh sure we talk a good talk with our "Remember the Reason for the Season" trite little worn out sayings but rest assured when the Christmas Eve service is dismissed we retire to our picturesque Currier & Ives cottages sporting our $150 wool sweaters for a little R&R by the fire for a cozy gift exchange.

Please don't misunderstand me, I certainly realize things could be worse. That being said, things could also be significantly better! In a nut shell, life should be doable. That means (& listen closely politicians who brag about creating a bazillion eight dollar an hour poverty level jobs on your watch) living in the greatest country on earth, some hay seed out in western Wyoming should be able to graduate high school, & go to work somewhere at 40 hours a week (not 70 & not 80, remember he works to live not the other way around), afford to drive & maintain dependable transportation (nothing sexy, just dependable mind you), save a little each month, pay his bills, catch a movie on Friday nights, & live in a safe, clean environment.

If we can put a man on the moon, feed legions of starving people overseas (which I'm not against) finance global wars for decades on end in countries that hate us anyway (which I'm also not against), & use tax payer's dollars to build the eighth wonder of the world aka Dallas Cowboy's Stadium (okay I'm against), we should by all means be able to do a much better job of MAKING LIFE DOABLE for the average nutin' special John Q. Public down in good ol' Anytown, U.S.A. wooden shoe agree?

Not talkin' Martha Stewart or John Kerry New England style homes quietly nestled into 3 million acres of lush backdrop with gated security, a circle drive & a posh cement pond down yonder. Not talkin' a canary yellow Dodge gas guzzlin' chick magnet Viper either. Let's stay grounded here people. We can do better. We MUST do better. Our future depends on it. Need I remind you Rome fell from within? We're only as good as our weakest link.

So how can we accomplish this? Easy! Cut wasteful government spending, reduce the size of big government, work smarter not harder, work more efficiently, but most importantly & BY ALL MEANS NECESSARY-LOWER TAXES FOR ALL PARTIES INVOLVED! COMPREND?

If we implement these necessary disciplines at this pivotal time in our nation's history I promise you many more Americans will have the opportunity to experience that picturesque Currier & Ives backdrop in Twenty Ten! Now THAT'S change we can ALL believe in! Am I right? Or am I right? Of course I'm right! Now get goin'! ;-)

For Unto Us

A man named Simeon was in Jerusalem. He lived an honorable and devout life. He was waiting for the one who would comfort Israel. The Holy Spirit was with Simeon & had told him that he wouldn't die until he had seen the Messiah, whom the Lord would send. Moved by the Spirit, Simeon went into the temple courtyard. Mary & Joseph were bringing the child Jesus into the courtyard at the same time. They brought him so that they could do for him what Moses' Teachings required. Then Simeon took the child in his arms & praised God by saying, 'Now, Lord, you are allowing your servant to leave in peace as you promised. My eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared for all people to see. He is a light that will reveal salvation to the nations & bring glory to your people Israel.' Gospel of Luke 2:25-32 GWT

Don't Just Do Something, Stand There

For my 2.5 year old life is pretty simple. He wants his father's undivided attention, he wants to be held (but only when he wants to be held!), & he wants to play with his cars (namely "Kachow" as he calls him, or "Lightening McQueen" as he's better known by).

Leave it to his father however, to significantly complicate matters. I find I am guilty of similar habits I once criticized my mother for-like the way she always opted to sweep our driveway rather than to shoot hoops with me while I pretended to be Larry Bird in game six of the NBA Finals. Now it's many years later, my mother is deceased, & history is repeating itself.

Sigh...

At times, necessity dictates I suppose.

Such the delicate balancing act parents must relentlessly strive to achieve & sustain.

Oh btw, speaking of old retired sport's legends, I've noticed those are the only MEN on the face of this planet who can walk away from their day jobs in their mid 30's to spend more time with their children, & actually receive mountains of praise for it. The rest of us are labeled irresponsible & lazy if we dare follow suit.

I know, I know. It's because Joe Montana has more zeros at the end of his monthly bank statement than me & can afford to read the menu from left to right rather than right to left (although that may be changing for o'l Sweet Sixteen if Obama care goes through).

Rest assured though, Kael doesn't care about my burdensome student loans, electric bills or how many digital mp3 downloads his daddy sold last month. He's an in the moment kinda guy who lives for the here & now. He gives no thought to yesterday I've noticed. Nor does he really seem to be all that concerned about tomorrow strangely enough. And get this, most nights he sleeps like a baby! Co:

I am told senior adulthood is like entering a second childhood. If these rumors are substantiated, I pray my outlook & approach is a lot like Kael's. Perhaps John Ondrasik sums it up best in that - "It's not the breaths you take, it's how you breathe."

One Week Later

Amazing what a difference a week makes. I managed to snap this picture early this morning just as the precipitation was moving into our area. So it's a hurried pic but you still get the idea. Currently it is raining AS WELL AS snowing. That's right...both, simultaneously. Only in south Houston could one witness such an event I suppose. And quite the adventure getting the squeedunks safely to school this morning. Nevertheless, here's hoping the snow wins out & not only sticks, but hangs around for awhile. After all, the only thing that goes better with my Seattle's Best Breakfast Blend than eggs & bacon... is snow! Wooden Shoe agree? =o)