Just Me & My Music

And some wine and some laundry. Miriam is in Albuquerque for spring break. The boys have gone to a Rockies game with Caleb. 

 

I am at home all by my lonesome. Except I'm not really that lonesome. I am doing about 56 loads of laundry and drinking a bottle of wine and enjoying being alone.  I'm also listening to the above referenced album. It's my favorite album (today). 

Last night my house had approximately three times as many children in it as I really want in it. That was exhausting. Today is the day I do a mental detox. This is perfect. 

Metaphors in a 9-year-old's Mind

This song was on the radio this morning. Samuel piped up from the backseat and said, "I can tell this song is from the time of the hippies." I asked how he could tell that and he said, "Because they said the big wheel keeps spinning around. They're talking about a record player and that's from hippie times."

Expectations of Perfection

Solomon's first band concert was last week.  We have looked forward to this for weeks.  He is in both beginning band and beginning jazz band.  It's his favorite class.  Band was always my favorite class, too so I'm excited to see him this involved and engaged.

After the beginning bands played we heard the 7th and 8th grade bands.  I have to admit I was underwhelmed.  I thought, "I was once in junior high band.  I was once a musician with this level of experience.  And I don't think we sounded so ... unpolished?"  And then I reined myself in and thought what any reasonable adult should think when looking back onto experiences in their youth -- which is, "My frame of reference is skewed.  Of course we sounded unpolished.  We were 13."

On Friday night Jennifer, Caleb, Lance and I got to talking about what we remembered of our band experiences.  They all had the same thoughts I did during the band performances.  (Can I just say that it meant the world to both Solomon and me that they all came to the concert?  How fantastic is this family?)  Lance, being Lance, has recordings of his 9th grade concert performances and they're even on his iPhone.  So we did what anyone reliving their glory days of junior high band would do and we listened to one of them.  It's a piece called Havendance that my band also did in 9th grade.  It was my favorite concert piece ever.  It's demanding, difficult, beautiful and so extremely fun to play.

You know what?  It sounded amazing, even coming from the tinny iPhone speaker.  The instruments were in tune, there was one tempo.  The dynamics blew me away.  So my frame of reference isn't as skewed as I thought it was.  We really were as good as we remembered.

Now, for a bit more reference.  Lance, Jennifer, Caleb and I all went to junior high in the same school district.  Caleb went to a different junior high than the other three of us but we knew his school and his band and he knew ours.  We went against each other regularly at all-region competitions for concert band and marching band.  We all went to the same high school.  Lance was a few years behind me in school, Jennifer and Caleb were two years behind me.  Jennifer and Caleb are the only two of us who played in the same band for the same years during high school.  Also, when I compare the 8th grade band here to the 9th grade band of which we were a part, I'm comparing students who've all had 3 years of band experience.   Middle school here is grades 6 to 8 and junior high there is grades 7 to 9.

Since we could hear such a vast difference in musicality between the 8th grade band of a few nights ago and our 9th grade bands of years ago we started talking about what the difference could be.  We've come to the conclusion that since, as a group, 12- to 14-year-olds are capable of the same basic things, it lies in the director.

Our junior high band director and the directors we had in high school were smart, passionate about music, passionate about teaching kids music.  They told funny and corny jokes.  But when it was time to rehearse, they could turn into the meanest, toughest, ugliest guys in the world.  They were perfectionists and they expected us to be perfectionists.  Making a mistake due to inattention was not tolerated.  We tuned ourselves against a devil of a tuner with an eternally spinning wheel.  When we had trouble sticking to one tempo, the Evil Metronome of Death was hooked up to a PA system and that beat was broadcast throughout the band hall at a deafening volume until we succumbed to it and, by God, we played in tempo.  It wasn't uncommon for one person to be singled out as the one who was missing the run of 16th notes in the 58th measure.  That one person then played those 16th notes alone half a dozen times in front of everyone until they were right.  I remember more than one temper tantrum from a director that consisted of throwing a baton, knocking over his music stand and stomping back and forth across the room.

Solomon's band director is a very sweet, personable woman.  She clearly loves what she does, she loves teaching, she loves music.  The kids love her back. I haven't spent any time in her rehearsals so I can't say what happens in them.  But if I were a betting person, I'd bet she doesn't tune kids and their instruments against a machine.  I'd bet there is no Evil Metronome of Death in her band hall.  I'd bet she does not stress to her musicians the importance of watching for down beats, for cues about when the melody cuts from the flutes to the clarinets.  I'd bet she does not express disappointment when things are not played the way they are supposed to be played.  I can be reasonably sure of winning all of those bets because what we saw and heard on Thursday night does not reflect a director who expects, demands and gets everything of which 8th grade musicians are capable.

I believe that my band directors bordered on abusive.  If a parent treated a child the way we were treated as a group, it would warrant intervention of some kind.  There's no doubt about that in my mind.  But you know what?  My band experience is one I would not trade for anything.  We had extreme pride in our performances, no matter what the venue.  We were really good and we knew it. Despite the yelling, the occasional humiliation and the frustration with not always being perfect, I never questioned enrolling in band every year.  I felt affection for my directors and consider them some of the most influential teachers in my entire school career.  Other people with a similar experience have told me they feel the same way.

I would venture to say that if we hadn't been as good as we were, if we hadn't had so much pride in what we did as musical students, we wouldn't have loved it so much.  And our excellence, our pride, was a direct result of the way we were taught.  I hope that the lack of pressure and the lack of expectation to work harder than he has before does not deter Solomon from future years of band enrollment.  I want him to make it to high school band where there might be a director that demands the best.

Day 15, A Song that Describes Me

Keep drinkin' coffee
Stare me down across the table
While I look outside

So many things I'd say if only I were able
But I just keep quiet
And count the cars that pass by

You've got opinions, man
We're all entitled to 'em
But I never asked

So let me thank you for time
And try to not waste any more of mine
Get out of here fast

I hate to break it to you babe
But I'm not drowning
There's no one here to save

Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything

You sound so innocent
All full of good intent
You swear you know best

But you expect me to
Jump up on board with you
Ride off into your delusional sunset

I'm not the one who's lost
With no direction oh
But you won't ever see

You're so busy makin' maps
With my name on them in all caps
You got the talkin' down just not the listening

And who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything

All my life
I've tried
To make everybody happy while I
Just hurt
And hide
Waitin' for someone to tell me it's my turn
To decide

Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything

Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything

Let me hold your crown, babe
 

I'm posting the lyrics to this song because they're so powerful.  This song compares and contrasts the old me with the new me.  It's my personal anthem.  Every time I hear it, it's a reminder never to take my own independence for granted.  I've got smarts and I'm not afraid to use them.  I don't deserve someone else's maps, someone's delusional sunset.  I deserve to go where I want to go because I want to go there.  And I will go there, dammit.

Day 14, A Song People Wouldn't Expect Me to Like

This video is really long, like ridiculously long.  I first posted a different version on Facebook but that one had disabled embedding so I couldn't put it up and I had to settle for this one instead.

I think this category is a little weird.  One, I don't know what people expect me to like.  Two, I don't care.  I've gone to great lengths to stop thinking so much about what people expect of me and focus more on what I expect of myself.

Anyway, I thought that an older song might be something that people wouldn't expect me to like and I really love this song by Dire Straits so I decided to post it.  Then I was telling Paul about it and he said that he would totally expect me to like this song and I said that was because he knows me better than most people do.  So Paul started trying to think of something that I like that he wouldn't expect me to like.

After some discussion he finally thought of dubstep.  And of course, he's right.  I hadn't even heard of dubstep until a few months ago when Paul and Cole told me about it.  Dubstep isn't a specific song, it's a genre of music that Paul really didn't think I would like.  But I did.  So here's a sample.

Day 13, A Guilty Pleasure Song

I think guilty pleasure means that in some part of yourself you think it's not okay to like something but you do anyway, consequences be damned.  So this song is only categorized as a guilty pleasure song if there is some reason I should not like it or some reason I should not like Christina Aguilera.

If I were a lesser person I might say that Christina Aguilera's music is a little *ahem* bubble gum-my.  Or I might say that her "Dirty" phase was a touch crass.  Or I might say that the tendency to call her Xtina bugs me because of the whole Xmas and Xtian thing.  But I try not to be a lesser person so I'm not saying those things.

What I am saying is that I love this song because it makes me feel very RAWR on days when I don't even feel very  meow.  I like that the song is full of contrasting imagery because I very often feel that way myself.  I can be up, I can be down, I can be weak or strong, happy or sad.

Day 12, A Song by a Band I Hate

I have nothing against this particular band or this particular song. However, I absolutely detest this genre of music. Can't stand it. Not even a little bit. I hate that the rhythm follows the weird up beats on

Every.
Single.

Song. 

I hate the constant, repetitive accordion. I hate that the lead singers in these types of bands always force their voices through the larynx and into the nasal cavity. I hate that they never sound like they have enough air. I hate it all. It's nauseating.

I didn't even listen to the whole song because it makes me want to pierce my tympanic membranes with a blunt stick. I just googled this band and this was the first song that came up. So here it is, in all its gut-wrenching, brain-grating glory.

Day 11, A Song by My Favorite Band

Bendita la luz - Mana y Juan luis guerra by sanshiro

Just like favorite song, I cannot choose a favorite band. But if I had to choose one band to listen to for the rest of my life, it would be Maná. Or Adele. Or Depeche Mode. Or maybe Steely Dan. Or maybe they'd just have to kill me. What? You know, the people making me choose just one band's music for life -- they'd have to inflict whatever consequences there are when I couldn't choose one band to listen to for life. Side note: I don't really understand that whole dilemma when people say, "If I had to choose just one band/food/shirt/color/whatever for the rest of my life ..." Who is going to make you do that?

Or!  There's this song, done by the above band covering it after it was originally recorded by Marco Antonio Solis.

Day 10, A Song That Makes Me Fall Asleep

I can't think of a single song that will actually make me fall asleep or even feel sleepy.  The box fan in my bedroom, though?  Puts me right out.  But that's neither here nor there.

Once upon a time Miriam was the happiest, mellowest, most pleasant baby ever known to man.  Until it was time to ride in the car.  The instant she was strapped into that car seat she morphed into the angriest, scream-iest, most stressful baby ever.  And then one day the ex-husband and I discovered that this song instantly tamed her.  She stopped crying, she fell asleep and we arrived at our destination much less harried.  We wore out that CD.

Miriam still adores this song.  It's on her MP3 player and she listens to it regularly.  And you know what?  She's one of the happiest, mellowest, most pleasant little girls ever.  Until it's time to ride in the car.  Just kidding!  She did grow out of that.

Day 9, A Song to Which I Can Dance

This is the only thing to which I can dance.  I am sorely lacking in the rhythm department..  Also, if you do not like having this song run through your head all week I suggest not actually viewing the video.

Day 8, A Song to Which I Know All the Words

One thing I cannot abide is the atrocious grammar in the posted rules for the 30 Day Song Challenge.  Today's title says, "a song that you know all the words to".  I don't consider myself to have perfect grammar but I do make an effort. That whole thing about the ending preposition is just something I cannot stomach. So I'm being a nerd and re-wording the title.

So here we have it -- a beautiful melody by Amos Lee.  It's mellow, it's pretty, it's kind of melancholy sounding.  I love it.  And I know all of the words.  That's not something I can say about very many songs.

Day 7, A Song That Reminds Me of an Event

This song is one that I have related to for a few years.  It reminds me of my move from Texas to Colorado 3 1/2 years ago.

I listened to it repeatedly when I was longing to make that move.  It was during that time that I realized home is not as much about the location as it is about the people that are there.  Home means comfort, contentment, love and peace.  It's the feeling I have inside that tells me I'm in the right place.  Every time I hear this song I'm taken back to those feelings of sadness and loneliness and I'm reminded of how good I really have it right here, right now.

P.S. I skipped Day 6, A Song That Reminds Me of Somewhere because a) I couldn't think of one and b) we went to the Rockies vs. Astros game last night and did not get home until reallyreallyreally late.


P.P.S. There was an earthquake last night! No worries -- we are fine. More about that later.

Day 5, A Song That Reminds Me of Someone

Paul has introduced me to a lot of new music.  This is one of the first songs he played that I had never before heard.  We were in his old car (old as in he no longer owns it, not old as in actually old) on our second date and he put in a CD to listen to while we drove to Spudnik/High Dive.

Day 4, A Song That Makes Me Sad

Johnny Cash's cover of this song is, in my opinion, so much better than Nine Inch Nails. He put so much feeling into the music that I can feel it. Unfortunately, Nine Inch Nails sounds like an emo kid inventing imaginary ills to cry about.

Day 3, A Song that Makes Me Happy

This isn't actually a music video but that's okay because the 30 Day Song Challenge is not about the video, it's about the music.  There might be a Video Killed the Music Star joke in there some where.  Let me know if you find it.

Anyway, this is one of my favorite songs because it just oozes happiness.  Plus, Marc Broussard's voice is nothing short of amazing.  Whenever I'm having a bad day, this song always makes me feel better.  Always.

Day 2, My Least Favorite Song

I despise this song with the heat of a thousand white hot suns.  It represents everything that is wrong with most hip hop music today: it's vulgar, unmusical, repetitive, stupid and utilizes no talent whatsoever.  I hate it.

Day 1, My Favorite Song

Apparently I've become a terrible blogger.  In an attempt to get myself back into the groove I'm doing the 30 Day Song Challenge which means I have to post at least one thing every day.  I think this is really a Facebook thing (it's where I got the idea and the rules and such) but I want to have all these songs easily searchable by me so I'm putting them here, too.



There is no way I could ever pick a favorite song of all time but this is a current favorite.  Love the harmonies, love the style, especially love the video and how it perfectly complements the style of the music.  Superb all around.

Spoon

Spoon. Oh, yes.  I really like Spoon.

Let's see, where do I start? Oh, how about with the transportation? I planned out my trip so that I would arrive via train and bus just before 8, when the openers started. But I went to dinner first with friends, lost track of time and missed the train. So I took a later one and missed the bus. No problem, I'll just catch a later bus, right? Wrong. The next bus wasn't for another hour. So I walked. It actually wasn't too bad, though. It was just over a mile. I ate way too much at dinner and the walk was a good way to burn some calories.

Anyway, when I got there everyone else was already inside so Jennifer came out to meet me with my ticket and we got in without any problems and found our crew some where near the front.  The openers, as Caleb said, "Aren't bad.  I just don't like them.  Plus, that dude with the guitar is going to break.  Like a twig."  His description of the guitarist was right on -- he was really, really skinny.  And not very smart.  He tried to make a reference to Layne Staley but instead said 'Layne Stanley.'  People didn't like his talking and not singing so he started to get some heckling.  Someone flipped him off and he said, "Hey, why would you do that?  You know, there was this lady named Emily Post who wrote some books -- you should f@ck!n' read 'em."  That was kind of funny.

Somewhere during this I noticed puffs of smoke rising periodically from the crowd.  Now it was pretty smokey in there because of the fog machines and stuff but there's no smoking allowed.  However, it was quickly evident that this was not cigarette smoke.  But you know, Colorado does allow people to smoke medical marijuana with a prescription, so who knows?  Maybe our fellow concert-goers had chemo treatments earlier in the day or were suffering from cataracts.  You never know.

I think it was right about this time that I started to smell something really foul and no, I'm not talking about the pot.  It was really, really disgusting.  Like stockyard disgusting.  Jennifer smelled it, too and we decided that the girl in front of us had farted.  It was so gross.  I don't think I've ever smelled something that nasty from a person.

Standing so close to that many people is weird sometimes.  I mean, in addition to the pot and the farts.  The girl in front of me was really drunk and kept swaying and stepping backwards into my personal space, which is already tiny in a setting like this.  Her hair was getting in my drink.  Caleb offered to trade places with me and then he stood right next to her and didn't move when she backed up.  Finally she realized what she was doing and went away.  It took her a really long time to notice, though.

And then some where around here, I got hit in the back of the head by some guy's elbow.  I turned around to see what happened and there was a guy behind me with his arms flailing around.  At first I couldn't tell what happened.  It looked like either a seizure or body-surfing gone bad.  As it turns out, it was neither.  Two guys got into it over personal space and one started throwing punches.  Caleb picked up the aggressor and threw him off the other guy.  So he left.  The guy who got punched was bleeding and lost his glasses.  That sucked.

Just before the show ended I noticed this guy who wandered into my line of site.  I took a photo because the quote on his shirt is so cool.  It says, "Only when the last river has been poisoned, the last tree has been cut down and the last fish has been killed will man realize that he cannot eat money."  I just love that.  I wish more people thought like that.

And here is my very, very dark photo of the Capitol.  I have a thing for the Capitol.  I don't know why.  I just like it.

Delicious Food and ... Kenny G?

I'm not working today -- yay for PAs that go on 2-week vacations to Switzerland and leave the office needing only 2 nurses!  So that means I had time to meet Paul for lunch.  We met at a little hole-in-the-wall Moroccan place in Aurora.

The place was virtually empty.  Paul commented that it's weird how little places like that can stay open for years and years when every time he's there they have next to no customers.  He hypothesized that they're actually a front for the Moroccan Mafia or something.  I don't care what they might be fronting for -- the food was delicious!

We shared a vegetable and lentil soup called harrira, a plate called the Middle East Combination -- comprised of hummus, baba ghanouj and falafel -- and an artichoke salad with the best raspberry vinaigrette dressing I've ever tasted.  We also had cups of Moroccan mint tea that was really tasty and warming.  We're definitely going back, hopefully soon.

What struck me as funny about the place was the incongruity of the music they played.  The walls, dishes, tablecloths, furniture and artwork were all very distinctly Middle Eastern in design. But they had a CD player going with Kenny G. They're definitely fronting for something.

Listen To This

Now.  Doesn't that make you want to go out and right all the wrongs in the world?