1 Friday night in the Bay Area, Santa Clara at Matt and Coley's. That's where I was at the start of the weekend.
2 The drive down frightened me. We listened to KGO's breaking news about Paris. I worried about all those affected by this tragedy. The reports continued through a long ride down. Just eerie, all, and terrible, all of it. My prayers go out there to everybody affected. In a way, my thoughts and prayers go out to the world.
3 We went out to dinner Friday night, and I gotta tell you, I couldn't help imagining people walking into a restaurant and doing those things. I watched how we felt so safe, and we added to it with scores of laughter and good thoughts. In the back of my mind I tried to wrap my head around what happened in Paris. I found myself looking at other tables and wondering if they had the same thoughts. Thank goodness I was with awesome company.
4 After we got home, Nicole put on this documentary about Full House. We laughed and enjoyed the memories. Comfort food. I think it was the perfect thing to put on.
5 Everyone went down the hall to sleep, but I thought I'd jump online and see if I could catch anymore Riff Challenges.
6 They happen. I think battling the bombardment of depressing news stories with hours and hours of amazing music is a nice counter to all that sadness.
7 A tremendous peace came over me, especially when I sat down to hammer out this stuff.
8 My schedule needs me to get these done faster and earlier, which I suppose shouldn't be too tough. Just re-learning some tunes and throwing them online scares the daylights out of me. I don't often put videos out there. I am not up to snuff on videos. I never felt I had the time nor interest to learn how to put smooth videos together.
9 Don't get old.
10 Moving On, Part One: I lived in three different houses over the weekend. I consider it one huge mansion that stretches across northern Cali.
11 Lost Thought Found, Dept: We drove through Altamont Pass on the way down Friday. Eerie route, particularly considering what we listened to on KGO. The windmills were turned off. Every one of them was silent and still. Every single one. We drove under some of the newer ones. Not only did they stare down, they threw menacing looks down. Gimme shelter.
12 We passed these while listening to news coming in from France. It was the stuff of nightmares.
13 Pray for peace. I want the world to stop all this. I've got family, friends, daughters and g'daughters, and I want them to live in a safe world.
14 Moving On, Part Two: I find it amusing that I have so many hobbies. Take writing. I've always written. I lug this laptop everywhere I land, so I'm always writing; but I didn't get too much better until a few months ago, when I began posting my two-month writing workshop. I learned a few newer tricks to make my writing more crisp. What new things did I learn?
15 Small things. Things that work. Things like using one-syllable words to improve clarity. I love that. I think it works. I never thought of that, but sentences with short words stay clear and easy to understand. What else works?
16 Avoiding adverbs. You can't dodge the damn things; they throw themselves your way, but you can contain them. Writing is one of several hobbies that suddenly stood before me.
17 A word about hobbies: Your parents probably told you at one time or another, "Find a hobby!" Listen: You don't find hobbies. They find you. I mean that. Three hobbies found me this Fall.
18 The first hobby that found me is the hobby I just mentioned: fine-tuning writing and editing. I thought I knew all there was to know about writing. I've learned so much more. I love playing with words. Pure fun, and a bit of hard work. Keeps you sane.
19 A sane mind and steady nerves are needed for my second hobby, music. Left to my own devices, I don't practice as much as I should. I practice before I perform live, of course. But once the gig is over I put the guitars away and tend not to touch them. That was before the Great Riff Challenge of 2015 hit the waves. I was challenged to put ten riffs online in the next ten days.
A few years ago I'd have taken the challenge without hesitation. When I sat down to try it I realized I don't know how to position the camera phone, how to light the performing area, how to address the camera with my eyes, all that stuff, AND remember how to change the strumming, and a thousand other scary things. I managed to get one song up there on guitar, and a second up there using karaoke. I accepted the challenge, but attended a party the night before where these incredible musical friends of my sister Gayle were in attendance. The party plays into the story, so if you will allow me to digress, it is a digression that is worth the walk.
Attending the party were two amazing keyboardists, Ben and Walt, who were sensational. The room where they set up the music was a small room with wonderful acoustics, the reverberations of which fell just shy of a vacant shower. I sat and chatted with my daughter Nicole, just nice stuff. We were enjoying Walt's sytle and commenting on how good he was.
The room filled with singers and musicians. The night would eventually include LOTS of sing-alongs: standards, rock, pop, "real" jazz <inside joke for Ponch>, and show tunes. And it was a sort of open-mic forum. I sat in a giant comfy chair, chatting with Coley, loving the subtleties of the jazz, daydreaming, rolling with the sound of Walt's delicate keyboard moves. Suddenly, my mind came undazed. The jazz moved into a show tune.
Both Coley and I recognized the tune immediately. Walt was playing All Good Gifts from Godspell. At least we thought it was All Good Gifts. I looked over to Nicole, because neither of us was certain at the time, but looking back, I was certain. And Nicole was certain. I stood up and walked over to Walt. I politely asked, "Is that All Good Gifts? He looked up with a huge smile, and said, "Yes! You know the tune?" A bunch of thoughts and memories surround that song. It always brings something, some memory to mind. Always.
I thought of everyone, but I thought of Isla and Maren instantly. The horrors of the previous afternoon were about to be changed. Walt invited me to take the mic, and before I knew it, I was singing one of my favorite songs ever. I pictured Caitlin playing the flute, with a video featuring her beautiful twins...that's what G'Pa's do.
And the people in the room filled in the wind portion of the song. It isn't a flute, but it's that solo that works at the beginning and end of the tune. I'm pretty sure it's a recorder. Lots of eyes lit up, because I wasn't the only person who knew that tune. These were music people in that room, doing a joint-recorder solo. The song brought the room together, and if you sing, or if you play an instrument, or if you like show tunes, you were living the dream.
By chance, someone asked Walt if he knew Abbey Road. Someone else suggested Side Two, which Walt agreed was the stronger side. Side Two of Abbey Road. Someone requested Come Together, so I decided to become a percussion instrument using my mic. I chilled in the back while others sang lead. I'm telling you. A whole bunch of these people didn't know each other, but that song became a call to arms. This party was gonna sing! Gayle's design, and a brilliant idea. We kept going with Something, Maxwell's Silver Hammer (which I dedicated to all the teachers in the room) AND Octopus's Garden, before moving to Side Two.
He then began Side Two of Abbey Road with Here Comes the Sun, and moved to Because. Everybody knew the harmonies. If two people sang the same note, they would adjust automatically, one going up and one going down. Amazingly, the adjustments, while not always smooth, worked. The trouble, they found, was that there wasn't a front man in the room who knew all the tunes. Except me. They had books. I didn't need books, because I learned all of it way back in what Sir Paul calls The Mists of Time. I took the mic, but stayed with all of the back-ups, an open invitation for anyone to take over the front spot. Several people did, so it worked. We went through all of it: You Never Give Me Your Money, Mean Mr. Mustard, and the sensational Medley, which ran the gamut from Golden Slumbers, to Carry that Weight, The End, and my fave, Her Majesty. I left out a few, Polythene Pam being one, but you get the gist. What a hobby, and I lived the dream on Saturday night.
Gayle took the night home doing a Billy Joel medley, Only the Good Die Young and of course Piano Man knocking everyone out. His body of music astounded me. While we packed, I helped Walt get his equipment out to the van, and when we went back in the house, he had this huge grin, and said, "I think the lyrics to that song are the greatest lyrics ever," he said. This stunned me.
Years ago we went out to a restaurant nestled in the hills of San Mateo. It had a piano player playing quietly in the bar area. A member of our party asked me to go over and to request Piano Man. I did, and the guy rolled his eyes. I understood. I always thought doing that was akin to requesting a school bus driver to use his mic to start a round of 100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. And the discussion turned to Davey, who's still in the Navy, and probably will be for life.
So if that seemed a mountain-side detour about this hobby, then you are right. I remembered I had committed to getting some songs posted for the Riff Challenge by Sunday, so therein lies the back story to my posts yesterday.
This second hobby needs refining, but at least I posted. I look like hell in the first video because of all the stresses hitting me these days, as well as the raspiness that sets in after a long evening of singing at the top of your lungs. I looked at the second video, the Sinatra song. Note to self: don't put head too close to screen. This frightens small children, and most adults. I need to fix all that stuff. I guess you could say I need to fine-tune things.
20 When you're older, putting yourself out there gets scarier. It's a huge leap, since I've never considered myself much good as a guitarist; as much as I love playing it, I've never considered myself any good. I never had the patience to perfect stuff. I could fake it a bit in front of a class, but this---if I may speak Facebookese: s#!t just got real. Hobby number two is now in full swing! I hope to post a better batch as the week unfolds. But that, my friends, is my second hobby.
21 My third and final hobby is watching babies grow. It might be the best hobby ever. Listen: when I say, "Don't get old," I don't mean it. First, I've no choice. Second, when babies show up, especially twin girls, you do stupid things. For example, you overuse the word "miracle," in my case, "miracles." You pull the baby to your face and talk gibberish. The baby responds with white stuff emerging from tiny lips. You ask incessant questions and end-punctuate with a high-pitched, "Yeh-uh?" with the "uh" moving around six octaves higher. You lift the baby, repeat the question, say "Yeh-uh?" again, and then you hold the little person above you and say, in still more gibberish, "Oh, you such a tiny girl! Yes you are! Yes you are!" The baby then looks past you for something better. You get the idea.
22 Tough job, but...
23 Anybody lookin'?
24 Then there are the small moments. When Maren falls asleep, she'll fuss for a second, and then grasp my pinkie. She holds on just as though we were taking a walk. When I hold Isla, she will push off with her toes to get up my shoulder a little higher. I find that adorable.
25 Every now and again things get really quiet, and I will suddenly hear a huge noise come out of one of the little rocking beds Caitlin has in her living room. It sounds a bit like a loud, "Ha!" and it always makes us laugh.
26 These are good days. I'm busier now than when I worked. I'm working on writing any time I have a moment; whenever possible, I'll sneak off doing this and into the office to work on songs. At some point I'll move over to Josh and Caitlin's to help out with the girls.
27 All in all, I'm running on all cylinders, and it is pretty entertaining, albeit exhuasting.
28 Gottago.
29 Monday. Yeesh.
30 Have a GREAT week.
31 See you again.
32 Thanks for listening. Seesly.
33 Peace.
~H~
fin.
No comments:
Post a Comment