In Between

When you think of the Saturday in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday what comes to mind? 

Maybe the month of August, only one of the twelve with no major holiday? Or John Oates of Hall and ...? Ed McMahon, perhaps? Do you wonder if all those Baldwin brothers have a sister?

Given today actually has an official tag, I freely acknowledge my sin i.e., attaching sacrilegious and secular parallels like those above to Holy Saturday. But my lapse as a Roman Catholic during the Kennedy administration means there's been ample time for me to overcome fear of those eternal flames. Besides, I want to hear your blasphemous analogues. That is, unless that hellfire intimidates you.  

On Good Friday, I can't borrow a book from the library. Getting a restaurant reservation on Easter Sunday takes some forethought. Today may be holy but it invariably passes with little fanfare, at least for me. Kind of like the triangle in a symphony orchestra or the cream of tartar on the spice rack. 

"Got to be something better than in the middle" - Jakob Dylan (from "One Headlight") 

  

Nearly Perfect

When did you most recently have a nearly perfect day? What were some key elements that helped make it nearly perfect? Which of those elements were also present in the last nearly perfect day you experienced? 

In late March, my wife suggested we visit the Saint Michael's Farm Preserve in Hopewell, N.J. The natural setting, clear sky, and ideal early spring temperature set the stage. Our invigorating walk was punctuated by effortless conversation, laughter, and comfortable silence. And then ... a surprise. 

The surprise my wife planned for me helped to round out my nearly perfect day. In the middle of a field at the preserve, I was caught totally off guard by a massive sculpture entitled The Awakening by J Seward Johnson Jr. Though the photo above gives you an idea of its scale, I also included a link below if you care to see some pictures of the sculpture in its entirety. And if you live anywhere proximate to the preserve, be sure to make a visit. It's worth it.

Tomorrow marks the forty-seventh anniversary of the first date my wife and I had. Beginning on April 17, 1978, every nearly perfect day I've had has shared one key element - her.

The Awakening (sculpture) - Wikipedia

Fortifying a Strong Bond

I'm pleased to say I've always been grateful for my family. Even as an obnoxious teenager, I was aware of my good fortune in this respect.

That said, I'm a bit chastened to admit that sometimes I take the talents of some of my family for granted. Am I the only one who needs an occasional slap in the head to help them more fully appreciate the talent of a family member they interact with regularly? I hope not.

My oldest niece is one of my favorite people. She's thoughtful, smart, and funny. When she recently moderated a discussion at my book club, I wasn't surprised how effortlessly she handled the task. But earlier this week, after reading a book review she wrote on Goodreads, her skill expressing herself in writing struck me anew. Is it possible I'd conveniently "forgotten" this undeniable talent of hers in part because of a need to be recognized for my writing? Again, I hope not. 

What I learned from my lapse is to begin paying closer attention to the talents of everyone in my family as well as to start acknowledging those talents more. How can this do anything except fortify the strong bond I share with them?     

Finding Me Tonight? Easy

 A Better Ending | Book by James Whitfield Thomson | Official Publisher Page | Simon & Schuster

Although I've never published a post endorsing a book before I've finished reading it, I'm thrilled to be doing so this time. Why? Because the author is a friend; friends support each other. At minimum, I'm hoping many of you will open the Simon & Schuster link above, read the brief description, and then take six minutes to listen to Fred Parker's narration of the first chapter. 

If you then decide to take more steps on this particular reading journey, whenever you do, I'd welcome hearing your reactions. For the more competitive, i.e., those interested in keeping pace with me, know this to start. I'd already listened to Parker's narration before attending a bookstore event last night to hear my friend Jim read his prologue. Those two small out-of-order tastes made it easy for me to know I'd be returning to Jim's book at chapter two (page seven) as soon as I completed my other commitments today. And that moment will arrive after I ... 1.) publish this post; 2.) eat dinner. With that in mind, here are required steps for those who hope to keep up with me. Beating me is highly unlikely unless you are both a reckless driver and a very fast reader:

* Proceed immediately to your local bookstore (most close around 9:00) and buy Jim's book. Yes, I'm ahead of you on that step as well.  

* Stay up for as long as it takes you to get through 282 pages, not counting the brief prologue. 

In the meanwhile, all of you know where you can find me tonight.

P.S. When you click on the Simon & Schuster link, a large circle will appear asking you to sign up for something. You can avoid doing so by just clicking "MAYBE LATER" at the bottom of that circle. Doing so will take you back to the S&S page from where you can read the book description and click the link that says "LISTEN" at the top left.  

Trailblazers and Musical Communion

"If I can see further than others, it is because I stand on the shoulders of giants" - Isaac Newton 

Although I've whined here more than once about the paltry remuneration I receive for teaching my music appreciation courses, my kvetching seems silly when I consider the ancillary benefits. I cannot honestly claim I'd do these courses for nothing, given the amount of time I devote to developing my material. But each one enriches me and further deepens my love of music. Those are both valuable gifts.

 

Last summer, when I conceptualized the course I'll be finishing tomorrow - Women of Heart and Mind: A Changing Musical Landscape - I suspected the non-musical research required might be substantial. I did not anticipate how many unfamiliar trailblazing women that research would introduce to me, each more remarkable than the next. I've included the Wikipedia link below for Jeanette Rankin - one of the women unfamiliar to me until developing this course - mostly because her story had an outsize impact on me, but I could've easily done the same for several others. Rankin and others helped shape our national conversation about women's rights. All of us are in debt to these pioneers. 

And then there are the moments of musical communion that occur in nearly every class. Two weeks ago, after session #1 concluded, a participant told me how moved she was by Woman of Heart and Mind - my course's namesake - a Joni Mitchell song from 1974's For the Roses. Turns out she had never heard the song. She went on to say that my laser focus on Joni's lyric about the way some people struggle with authenticity ("You imitate the best and the rest you memorize") had a powerful effect on her. I live for moments like this.  

Jeannette Rankin - Wikipedia    

Two Hours Well Spent

If you enjoy quiet films with little flourish, set aside two hours for The Outrun (2024). I included the Wikipedia link below to eliminate the need for me to outline too many particulars and also help you to decide if you want to invest the time. However, the plot summary therein does have a spoiler so don't read it to its end. 

I suspect the main reason this film landed with me as it did is because of how many people I've known who've done battle with alcohol and/or drugs. The struggles, rationalizing, destructive behavior, and backsliding of the main character in The Outrun - played by Saoirse Ronan - were painfully familiar to me. Have you ever known a single person who doesn't have a story of someone from their life - family member, friend, work colleague, neighbor, etc. - who has fought this fight? Everyone I've ever known has at least one story - sometimes their own - like this.

Another reason I'm comfortable recommending this sleeper without reservation is also connected to my life's experience with alcoholism and drug abuse. Numerous times, I've witnessed people close to me who have turned their lives around with the help of Alcoholics Anonymous and similar twelve-step programs. AA may not be for everyone. But any film that points people toward a solution that I've seen work many times is, to me, a film worth endorsing. Added bonuses: Exceptional acting, nearly flawless script, and unobtrusive direction. And a trip to a remote and enchanting corner of the world.  

If you end up watching The Outrun, please remember to either return here with a comment or write me an e-mail to tell me your thoughts. I'd like to extend the glow of this movie for as long as I can. 

The Outrun (film) - Wikipedia

The Last Reflection from Patstan

Abandoning ship, closing shop, skipping town. 

Farewell concert, final song, no encore.

Out of gas, out of steam, over and out.   

Throwing in the towel, raising the white flag, that's all folks. 

April Fool's!

(I was tempted to prolong this, e.g., Elvis has left the building, etc. I even considered torturing you with that annoying closing song from The Sound of Music. You owe me one.)

Today's Tao

"We teach best what we need to learn most."

What happened most recently to you that confirmed teaching is the best way to learn?

In my course called Jamming for Advanced Beginners, a message I try to convey to guitar students early on is to avoid thinking of any improvised note as "right" or "wrong". Better - I coach them - to consider the notes they intended to play vs. those they didn't intend to play. I strongly believe any student who fully internalizes this critical lesson will be a more relaxed improviser from the start. In addition, having this kind of attitude about one's own improvising is a surefire way to ensure that person will be far less likely to harshly judge what other people play in their early attempts at improvising.

If I could borrow that HG Wells contraption, I know what point in time in my life as a musician I'd return to. I'd go back to my start as an improviser and hear my own words endlessly repeated back to me: "There are no wrong notes, Pat, only notes you didn't intend to play."  Perhaps those words would have given me enough confidence to ignore anyone who cringed at something I tried. 

But time machine fantasy aside, what I've seen - as a teacher - is that each time I repeat this message, an unsurprising thing happens; my own improvising gets a little more relaxed and natural. And that's when Buddha's words are confirmed for me, yet again.