The Blah-blah-blues-blog

BLECH:

So, I haven’t written a blog in almost a month.

I was a little bit sick...ish. Well, there was one day several weeks ago when I felt really bad.

And I was a little bit busy...ish. Well, I had a few extra rehearsals and a few juries to accompany.

Mostly I’ve just been lazy/depressed. I still am. I could spend this time writing. I SHOULD be working on some orchestrations for a show I’m doing in the spring. This is when I actually have time, but I’m finding it hard to motivate myself.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS:

I don’t really get into Thanksgiving or Christmas. It occurred to me a couple of days ago that I can’t really make any emotional investment in the holidays, because there’s no real pay-off for me. I don’t seem to feel the warm, fuzzy stuff that everyone is “supposed” to feel. At Thanksgiving some friends invited me to their house for a very tasty dinner. That was nice; I had a good time. But, in general, it’s hard for me to feel thankful when I’m not happy with myself or with my life. Yeah, I’m not homeless and starving, but I live alone and spend most of my time alone. And I’m really worried about money lately. I don’t have any. I haven’t really worked “enough” in 2 years, and I don’t really think I’ll get much more work next year.

As for Christmas...well, I’m not religious. In fact, I’m pretty-much anti-religion. And for those who’d say they’re not “religious” but they believe, well, I’m pretty hostile about “faith” as well. It seems that the people who say that kind of thing (not “religious” but...) are just going along with or have returned to the stuff they were taught when they were children and didn’t have the mental capacity to question it. And now it’s like they have religion-lite, and they conveniently distance themselves from the horrible stuff that religions have done and often don’t even feel much need to actually examine what they believe. They just take their own particular dose of opiate and chill out, not really have to think about it.

The commercial side of Christmas makes me ill, so I haven’t even thought about it much this year. I don’t have a TV, so I haven’t seen those blatantly offensive commercials that suggestion we all must purchase lots of crap we and our “loved ones” don’t need. I think I wrote entire blogs ranting about Christmas for 2 or 3 years. There’s an abridged version of one of them here from December 2006.

ANYWAY:

Maybe I just have seasonal affective disorder. Of course that might suggest that I’m relatively healthy the rest of the year, and I’m not willing to claim that.

So, now I’ve written a blog. Yep, another blog complaining about how I’m unhappy. Maybe I should change the name of this whole thing from Mister Christer’s Variety Show...the blog to something like like The Blah-blah-blues-blog. 

bullshit inner monologue

Damn it!

I’m trying to do some work on a script. It’s a show I started writing this summer, when I had a lot of time. And now, even when I have a day off, like today, I just can’t stay focused on it.

It’s not the facebook or the netflix distracting me. The problem is that I’m too distracted by my bullshit inner monologue. I’m not beating myself up, thinking “I’m not a good writer” or that kind of creativity-related thing (not that that doesn’t happen sometimes). It’s that boring monologue about how I’m generally unhappy being alone. See, you’re probably bored already.

There’s one particular woman I’m interested in right now, but at this point she isn’t able or willing to give me what I want. That ought to discourage me from interacting with her. I expected it to, based on how I’ve reacted to this kind of thing in the past. But how I feel just hasn’t really changed. A friend mentioned the other day that maybe the problem isn’t this woman. Maybe the problem is that I’m feeling old and tired and worried that I don’t have many chances left. Damn you, smart friend who can sometimes see through my bullshit!

Actually, I don’t know for sure if that’s the problem, but it’s certainly possible.

Why is it so easy to just sit here and write this, while working on that script feels like I’m having to stop and think and work for every line?

Blech. I wish I were either a lot more busy so that I don’t really have the time to sit around and think about this OR that I were less busy so I could really delve into writing like I did this past summer: spend basically all morning writing, a few hours in the early afternoons typing up what I just wrote, and a few hours in the late afternoon writing music. 

Birthday, schmirthday ...UPDATE

Karen’s call for people to send her stuff worked.

Soooo....I’m putting out a call for people to throw me a party. I’ve taken my birthdate off the facebook for now, and I’m probably not gonna put it back on until after Friday. I still don’t want to wade through “happy birthday” postings. But between now and then I’ll be putting in my status a call for local people to throw me a party.

Do it! I’m gonna be 40 on Friday. That’s sort of a big deal. Do it! Make it a “special day” for me. I could use one. Seriously. 

massage

I’d like a massage partner. Somebody that I know, that I like well enough, but don’t LIKE. My friend Julia thinks that people who know each other can’t give each other a massage and it not be about sex. I fully admit that there can be a sensuality to it, even a sort of intimacy. And certainly it can be about sex, but I think it doesn’t have to be.

I know that many people (I’ve talked to them over the years) would prefer a stranger give them a massage. But I just don’t feel that way. There is something important about touching each other (go ahead and get all the giggles out now), and while hiring someone who has studied and knows physiology and all that can lead to a really helpful massage—I’ve paid for some excellent massages— I think the idea of a friend touching you is really nice and might be really helpful emotionally. Also, it’s much easier on the budget. Just spring for a little massage oil, or baby oil, whatever. And if you feel like you’d be awful at it, just not know what to do, there are books which are probably cheaper than the cost of a massage.

So, anyone out there living near me interested?

Birthday, schmirthday

Inspired by my friend (or former friend? well, facebook “friend” anyway [old friend...that's what she told me she prefers]) Karen Faith, who this morning posted a facebook status reminding people to get their birthday presents to her in the mail, I’d just like to say this about my upcoming birthday: I will be removing my birthdate from the facebook sometime before the big day. Having it listed there on everyone’s home page makes it so easy for people to see it, think “oh a birthday...I must send birthday greetings”, post a little comment, and not think about the person again.

I just don’t want tons of birthday greetings posted on my wall. I will feel compelled to read them, just to see if any are worth responding to. And based on past years, I assume most won't be. It’s not that I think those kind of greetings are insincere, but to me they just feel shallow. I mean, most of my facebook “friends” are acquaintances, people I did a show or two with, or whose lessons I accompanied years ago, or maybe attended high school with over 20 years ago. They're not that close to me really. In fact, I recently un-friended about 80 people, and could probably un-friend another 80 without their even noticing. My point being, they're mostly not really friends of mine.

On most of my birthdays as an adult I was in rehearsal or doing a show or accompanying classes or lessons or whatever it is that I was doing every other day at that point in my life. The only difference is that people told me or wrote to me “happy birthday” or some other comment. My least favorite birthday greeting is anything to do with my “special day”, for the obvious reason that IT’S NOT A SPECIAL DAY! For me, the simple knowledge that it’s the anniversary of my birth doesn’t make it special. I’m not at all opposed to it’s being special, but unless somebody makes a significant effort it’s not gonna be: a party, or a great dinner or drinks with a few actual friends, or a nice date with someone I like (maybe a little sumpin' sumpin'?). And I’m just not really comfortable throwing myself a party. At this point, I fear the turn-out would be so low that I’d feel even worse.

So I go around, doing whatever, on my birthday, acutely aware of the lack of “specialness”, and hearing or reading all these birthday wishes just makes it feel worse. I realize that’s not a normal reaction, but that’s how I feel. (Yes, I’m a crazy person...okay, maybe not crazy, but I know that my feelings about and reactions to many things are atypical.) If you want me to have a special day, then do something to actually make it special, and I don’t mean to post “happy birthday, Chris” on my facebook wall.

Monkey Muffins

Monkey Muffins (Chocolate Oatmeal Banana)
I just used my basic muffin recipe and added one packet of instant cocoa mix (minus the sad little dehydrated marshmallows), a little oatmeal, and bananas. I omitted the blueberries, a little less sugar because of the cocoa, and a little less flour because of the oatmeal. I sort of improvised.

They're not bad; not as sweet as I expected form tasting the batter, and a little heavy (probably the oatmeal).
If anybody reading this is in the Greensboro area and wants a taste, please let me know. You're welcome to come by and have one or take a few with you.

National Coming Out Day – # 2

I don’t know what it’s like to be gay. But for a long time I’ve been supportive. I’ve had lots of friends and acquaintances and colleagues who were (are) gay. Apparently in high school I had friends in who are gay, but I didn’t know it then. I’m sure I would’ve been supportive. I certainly had a number of what I would call moderate but others would call liberal viewpoints. (I remember arguing with my brother at the kitchen table about things like inter-racial relationships and women in positions of authority. I was on the side that says both of those things are okay. My brother called me a “flaming liberal”. Funny thing is that not long after that I had a friend in college who called me conservative.)

About a year ago I had an experience, well it lasted several months—is that “an experience”? Maybe this is better: about a year ago I went through something that gave me some clue what that must feel like. My experience felt awful. It made me very unhappy and bitter.

At the end of last summer I had very little money and no future work lined up. I felt that I couldn’t afford to go back to NYC, so I started looking around for some possibilities. Just at that time, a friend posted as his facebook status that he needed an accompanist at the school where he was head of the voice faculty. So I ended up working there. It was a private Baptist university outside of Mobile, Alabama. I wasn’t familiar with the school and was a little wary at first, as I am not a Christian and certainly not a Baptist. But my friend assured me that as long as I wasn’t cursing at the students and sacrificing babies in my backyard at midnight it would be fine.

Well, it wasn’t fine. The head of the performing arts department asked me to not tell the students that I was not a Christian. I thought that it didn’t need to be a big deal, but I still didn’t understand just what sort of place I was working at. The students and faculty are all assumed to be Christians. It seems that the faculty are considered spiritual advisors to the students in addition to whatever they are teaching. All the time in the hallways and classrooms you hear people throwing out these catch-phrases that let you know they’re in the know: “Have a blessed day” and that sort of thing. I played some for the theatre program, and they would have prayer at the beginning and end of every rehearsal.

When I found out that they have a musical theatre major, before I met anyone there, I wondered if they had any gay musical theatre boys. (Yes, that’s a stereotype, but it’s based on real-world truth.) I’m pretty sure they do, but those boys are not even close to being out. The official position of the school is that if you are discovered to be a homosexual, engaging in homosexual behavior, you’ll be kicked out. In practice, it depends on who you are. If you’re someone the department really wants to keep, because you’re really good or a leader or whatever, then they’ll pray for you and have a sort of Jesus-based intervention at which, I suppose, you can renounce your sin and get right with God, and then it’s okay, I guess.

Well, as the semester dragged on, I found it harder and harder to not talk about my lack of faith. Only one person, other than the head of the department, ever asked me directly about what I believed. I told her the truth. I’m agnostic. But there were so many other times when I could tell that people were assuming that I was like them, that I shared their faith. There were some faculty members that I told, mainly so they wouldn’t ask me to lead a prayer or anything like that. But otherwise, I was in the faith “closet”. There was something about me that was rather significant, and I knew that most everyone else around me was not “that way”, and they assumed that I was just like them and not “that way” either.

If I had stayed on there for another semester it would’ve had to’ve been on the condition that I be honest about my lack of faith. But I did not stay. I could not stay. My being asked to not reveal that I wasn’t a Christian was a symptom of the larger problem of a focus on the appearance of things at the expense of the substance. That’s why I left. That attitude is in direct opposition to my feeling about life, how people should communicate with each other, and certainly education: teachers and schools ought to be encouraging students to examine things and explore the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. I think this is a general problem in “the church” and the reason behind so many church/minister scandals. They’re busy working on the appearance of right-ness or righteousness and not dealing with the substance or truth of things.

When I decided to leave, I did tell a few of the students about the whole thing. They didn’t think it was a big deal. It's not that they didn't care, but they weren't devastated, their faith wasn't shaken by my not sharing it. One of them was actually mad about it and told the head of the department. Good for her.

Before that experience, I knew that I considered it important to tell the truth. It’s something that I value. But I now know that it’s also very important for me to not not tell the truth. Not telling the truth about something feels just like lying, which I hate. In other, fancier words, it’s important to not commit lies of omission, not just to avoid lies of commission.

The whole experience of feeling “closeted” in that way was just dreadful. And I didn’t even feel any shame about being agnostic. How horrible would it have been if I thought it was bad or evil or sinful or unnatural or just plain wrong to be the way I was.

It’s not wrong or evil to be agnostic. Sometimes it can be difficult. But there are people out there who are like you and others who aren’t but will support you and love you and not think that you’re bad because of it.

And it’s not wrong or evil to be gay. Sometimes it can be difficult. But there are people out there who are like you and others who aren’t but will support you and love you and not think that you’re bad because of it.

Have a “blessed” National Coming Out Day. 

National Coming Out Day

I “came out” in college. I was a straight then and still am. But I thought it would be an interesting experiment. There was a friend of mine, Jay, who had recently come out. It was surprising to me, because I didn’t think he seemed “the type”. He wasn’t flamboyant or effeminate or any of those things. In other words, he wasn’t a walking, talking stereotype. That’s not really what I expected of gay people, but it was sort of in there, in my head. I had some other friends at that point who were gay. It wasn’t a big deal. But I think that was the first time someone had come out to me, someone who wasn’t already generally “out of the closet”. Jay and I became roommates later, along with a third guy, and Jay always thought it was really funny that if someone we didn’t know had come into that apartment only knowing that one of us was gay, they’d most likely think it was me. At that point, I was probably playing for the opera, maybe some musicals, accompanying dance classes. And I’ve never been terribly “butch”; I don’t engage in a lot of obvious alpha-male behavior. So of course, that means I would be “the gay”.

Anyway, after Jay came out, I was thinking about sexual identity and coming out, and decided I’d give it a go. Not being gay, but coming out. (There have been times when, due to my general lack of success with women and occasional consequent unhappiness, I have wondered if maybe I’m gay. But I can very securely say that no, I’m not. I like women, and men just don’t do it for me.) So I went around to lots of people I knew and did the whole spiel: “There’s something I want to tell you; my family and some friends already know, but I feel I’m ready to let everybody know; it’s not anything that has to change our relationship, I’m still the same person, but I just wanted you to know that I am a heterosexual.” There were some variations, but that was basically the speech. And the whole time I would watch the person to see them react.

With most people there was a moment mid-spiel when they realized what (they thought) I was going to say. And why wouldn’t there be? I was using every coming out cliché that I could think of. Some people would interrupt me, very proud that they’d figured it out before I got to the end, and would say “Chris, are you gay!?” And then I would just sort of finish, and they’d seem almost disappointed or hurt. I suppose that was right of them to feel, because in a way I’d played a trick on them.

I remember one guy—and he was the type you might expect to come out one day (I once described that type as the north-Alabama youth pastor type: a bit flamboyant with no overt sexual interests and very much in love with God/Jesus and his mamma)—who just seemed to be listening, not reacting, until I got to the end, “heterosexual”, and he exclaimed “Chris, no!” Like many people, he picked up on the context clues and his brain heard me say “homosexual”. I just remember his reaction in particular, because his voice got high-pitched (this is a guy who once in my car as I took a turn a little too quick for his taste, grabbed the little handle above the passenger-side door and literally sang “Shit!”), and he seems so upset that I could be gay. It went against his Southern, religious upbringing (He did become a preacher).

And then there were the people who, after I finished, would start to respond, then get a wry look on their face as their brain told them “Hey, he didn’t say what we thought he was gonna say.” I guess those were the folks who knew my funny or witty or sarcastic tendencies. Or, as I thought of it then, the smart ones. Of course, I think of myself as smart, but I would almost certainly be one of the interrupters. I recently had a conversation (or discussion—is that better, Julia?) about how my brain jumps ahead and interprets what it’s hearing without waiting to hear the second part. It just seems to do that on its own. So maybe the ones who interrupted are the smart ones too, ‘cause they figured out pretty quick what ought to go in the blank. Or maybe they’re just impatient...or show offs. (Is that me, an impatient show-off?)

I would like the moral of this story to be something else, something like “support your friends and loved ones and strangers who come out because we’re all just people who need love”. But I realize the story doesn’t really support that. I guess the actual moral is that “most if not all of us make assumptions and judgments that may not be true”.

It’s National Coming Out Day, and that’s my coming out story. I know the day isn’t about doing informal social experiments on your friends. So let me say this: stop the hate; stop the condemnation. Those attitudes are based in fear. But you don’t need to be afraid of homosexual people. The “gays” are not out to get us “straights”. Sure there may be the occasional individual who threatens you somehow and happens to be gay, but there are scary straight individuals too. Straight guys out there, if some gay man really wants to have sex with you, then you should feel flattered that someone finds you attractive even if you don’t reciprocate. Or, if he’s really making unwanted, inappropriate advances, now you have some idea of (the beginning of) what a woman might feel when men make those advances toward her. You can feel better about yourself, &/or learn something. Isn’t that a win-win? Well, maybe not.

Anyway...

If you have a religious objection to homosexuality, here’s something for Christians: stop focusing so much on a few passages in the Old Testament and the letters of Paul, etc; look instead at what Jesus supposedly said, you know, the “red-letter” words in some of those Bibles. He was not all about hate, and hell-fire and damnation. He was not all about “don’t”. he was really quite radically about “do” love people and “do” help people and “do” forgive people...even the ones you don’t like or maybe who you don’t think deserve it. Now, if you’re Muslim or Hindu or something, I can’t help much. I just don’t have much background there. Sorry.

In conclusion...love and support your people, no matter their gender preference/identity. 

SCARY GOV'T

This may just be a coincidence, but it's a little scary.
I just saw this story on MSN.com:

It says a student found some thing attached to his car. When he removed it, the FBI showed up, but the FBI won't acknowledge that it's their device.

So, I clicked on it, to read the whole thing, and got this:

It says the webpage is not available. It may be temporarily down, or moved to another location.

...OR, maybe the government doesn't want us to know about the stuff they're attaching to our cars!

This feels like a blog (or, My recent note)

So this is something I wrote last night. I considered posting it as a blog originally, but instead I went with a "note" on the facebook. 

I Really Do Want To Know (that's the title of the note)

What the fuck is my problem?

I really do want to know. 

If you have any serious thoughts about this, please send me a message.

I'm not fishing for compliments here. I don't need to hear that I'm smart and talented and blah, blah, blah. In fact, if you tell me that in response to this, I'll probably get mad.

I'm about to turn 40, and I'm thinking about my life lately. I'm not happy. I want to figure out why and what I can do to improve things. 

So if you can help, please do.

Then came the first comment. It was about God and Jesus and the Bible. Here's my response:

Ya know, I actually considered adding a sort of "and I don't wanna hear about Jesus" clause to this.

I'm sure that you really, really, truly believe what you wrote. But I don't, and that's not out of ignorance of the subject. I've looked into it, a lot more than MANY people who would call themselves "believers". And I do not believe it.

I was thinking not too long ago about Jesus, and the "red-letter" stuff he supposedly said. I thought, "what a great thing Christianity could be if more Christians really tried to do those things, instead of paying so much more attention to the Old Testament and Paul's (and others') letters." But I don't believe in Jesus as the "Son of God" any more than I believe in the Santa/Grandpa/Zeus sort of God of the Bible/Torah/Koran & popular imagination.

Now, I know you didn't advise me to "get religion". But it's difficult for me to speak about God and faith and belief without at least addressing religion. Because it's not simply that I don't share your belief. I actually find it harmful. Or at least, I consider that the belief in God and Jesus and the Bible are entwined with a whole other set of things, which I find harmful.

If Christianity and religions in general were simply a matter of individual belief, I would probably just say "Fine, you go believe that and good luck with it." But the reality is that religion(s) and the absolute certainty of belief that many people have (and have had throughout history) has been so awfully damaging to so many people. And I'm not just talking about religious wars, etc. I mean the sort of ongoing damage being done to people when they're taught that so many normal things, desires, whatever, in life are wrong and sinful and evil. And that these things need to be wiped away from your life. All that does is encourage people to repress the "undesirable" thoughts and feelings, whether they really are harmful or not. Repression is not a healthy way to deal with stuff. The "bad" shit always comes out somewhere. And coupled with the guilt of "sinfulness" it can lead to some potentially damaging behavior.

And that's just dealing with yourself. It gets worse when you start dealing with other people, which religion seems to give carte blanche for people to do. Just a few hundred years ago a woman's speaking her mind would've been considered evidence of demonic influence. Such a woman might have been pronounced a witch and burned at the stake. Religion does that kind of stuff. Still today (in some places), women are stoned to death for things that don't fall cleanly in line with the accepted beliefs about God and how to live.

So, while I appreciate your willingness to share what you think might help, I'm really looking for more useful information about me as an individual from people who have interacted with me and might have some feedback. I'm hoping to develop a better idea of who I am. And understanding more the way others perceive me might help.

So, this feels like a blog, and that's why I'm posting it here. I haven't removed the note. I guess I'm just putting it here in case there's anyone who is more inclined to read my blog than a note on the facebook.

Late Dinner

AND

PLUS

A little cheddar cheese

and

Knob Creek & Ginger Ale on the rocks

TASTY

Mmmore Mmmuffins

Mmmade Mmmore Mmmuffins this Mmmorning.

I used the same recipe as last time, except these are cinnamon-apple, not blueberry. I've never made apple muffins before. But I've made apple cobbler, so I figured it would work well. It did. They're yummy.

piano lessons (for Havilah)

I never decided to become a musician. Apparently, and I don't really remember this, when I was very young I would sit at the piano and "play" (or more likely bang on it). I did it enough that my parents sort of didn't pay that much attention to it until somebody came to visit and noticed that I was playing "chords". When I was maybe 7 or 8 I started asking for piano lessons. If asked what I wanted for Christmas or my birthday, it was lessons, or a teacher. I do remember that. The parents were a bit doubtful that I'd stick with it, so they made me a deal that if I got through a beginning piano book and still wanted to take lessons, they'd find me a "real" teacher. 

My first teacher was my paternal grandmother. She and my grandfather were visiting, and she played piano, so she started teaching me. She got me most of the way through that beginner book before they left, and my mom coached me through the rest.

Then they found me a regular teacher. I don't remember her name, but I do remember that she was a minister's wife. Not sure what denomination, but it must've been something along fundamentalist protestant lines, because... I'd somehow gotten hold of one of those books of "63 Songs You Love to Play" or whatever. It had some old standards and folk songs and some more contemporary popular songs, including "Joy to the World". Not the Christmas carol, but the 3 Dog Night Song. I wanted to learn it, but my teacher wouldn't work on it with me, not because it was a pop song, but because of the lyric "But I helped him drink his wine, Yes, he always had some mighty fine wine." Of course wine was evil, so I couldn't learn that song. Well, I did learn it, just not with her help. 

After my family moved, during my 4th grade year, I found a new teacher. It was group lessons at the Faye Langdon school of music. I don’t remember that teacher’s name either. It wasn’t Mrs. Langdon. I took lessons there for a while, then quit for a while, then started lessons again. Just around the time that I was starting to play moderately difficult things, we moved again.

It was the middle of junior high for me, and we moved to Mississippi. I hated it at first. I never found a teacher there, never even looked for one. I didn’t stop playing; I just wasn't taking lessons. I always liked to play, but I didn't ever practice much. My parents never pressured me to practice or not practice. When I had wanted lessons, they paid for lessons. And when I’d wanted to quit, I don't recall their making a big deal about it. 

I started playing some times in church, and I started buying sheet music for some pop songs I liked. That’s when I discovered how playing the piano is attractive to girls. I would play during a break at church camp or in the school choir, wherever, and a gaggle of girls would gather and watch me and listen and comment on how great I played. I was not the type to take advantage of that. I never really talked to these girls, but I did enjoy the attention. When I was 13 or 14 this group of girls who were 13 or 14 wanting to hear me play felt pretty awesome. Of course as I got older, they stayed the same age. Not the individual girls, of course, but the group. By the time I was 17 or 18 it was considerably less awesome.

When I went to college, I started as a music major, but pretty quickly changed to undecided. It was actually called “General Studies”. It was a department where you could go in for career testing and stuff, and there were a few classes. But I didn’t do all that stuff. I just sort of ended up in psychology. But that first semester as a music major I’d started taking piano again, after about 5 years of no lessons. After that semester my teacher went on sabbatical, and the second teacher I had at college gave me a B because I didn’t want to keep working and polish and memorize a piece after I’d learned it. I’d always read well, and learned how to play things fairly quickly, but I was never really a great memorizer. And at that point I wasn’t’ a music major any more. I had no intention of performing whatever those pieces were. So why should I memorize them? That was my feeling.

I wasn’t going to continue piano after that. But I was taking composition by then, and my composition teacher told me I should keep taking piano, to keep my technique up. So he arranged for me to take with his friend who was head of the piano faculty, whose studio I never would’ve gotten into as a non-major, and that I would work on whatever I wanted as long as it was decent stuff. When I composed my first piano sonata, we worked a little on that in my lessons. When I started accompanying for the opera program, we would sometime work on that stuff in my lessons. When my teacher realized I liked accompanying and was good at, we worked a whole semester on a set of songs and piano reduction of a piece for orchestra and soprano (Hermit Songs and Knoxville, Summer of 1915 both by Samuel Barber).

So I kept up lessons until I finished school. I knew I was never going to be a concert pianist, and do big solo piano recitals. I was never interested in that. And I had absolutely no desire to teach piano or be a choir or band director. Other than maybe being a pop musician, I had no idea of anything else you could do for a living as a musician. I’m sure I knew that an accompanist was someone who played piano for some other soloist or group. But for the first few years of college I had no idea that someone could work as an accompanist (etc.) and make a living at it.

After I started accompanying there was a point when I realized that I couldn't not be a musician. I was a psych major, but I spent much more time in the music department, and I stopped thinking I was gonna be a therapist or whatever and kept doing music. In fact, I considered dropping out of school, taking a few years off, and eventually coming back to do a music degree. But everyone I talked to about it said that was a bad idea. They all suggested I should finish a degree in whatever I was closest to finishing. And then taking whatever time I wanted to figure out what to do with myself. So I finished the psychology degree, but with more actual music hours than psych hours. Undergrad psychology isn’t a really complicated or intensive degree, but music is. I wasn’t even close to having the right line-up of hours for a music degree. There were several ways you could minor in music, and I qualified for all of them except the one which was more history and theory (academic music) heavy.

I’d majored in psychology ‘cause it was something I was really interested in and thought I’d be good at. I had always liked my therapist in high school, and for a time I had actually thought I would be a therapist. I’ve always been pretty good at listening to people, cutting through the bullshit, and giving advice. But I’m a musician. I accompany, I coach, I do music direction, arranging, orchestration. And now when people find out that I have a psych degree, they often ask if I ever use it. I always say. Pretty much the same thing: Are you kidding, of course I use it; I work with singers and actors and dancers all the time, and they’re all crazy.

Objection!

I object to leaf blowers.

No, not that. This:

They’re not simply leaf blowers. They’re dust blowers. Okay, yes, at least the people using them are courteous enough to power down when I walk by, but that does nothing to dissipate the cloud of dust I have to walk through. I’m already allergic to plenty of things in the air without your help, thanks.

Also, they’re noisy and annoying at 9am when I’m trying to snooze.

Also, they have some kind of power source. I’m guessing they’re mostly gas powered. But even if they’re electric, they’re using up energy, and unnecessarily, I think.

I mean, why is it so important that your yard or driveway not have leaves in it? Seriously. It’s not as if the leaves cease to exist. They just go out into the road or, as in the case with the apartments next to mine, onto your neighbors’ property (i.e., my parking lot and “yard”).

I know, I know: dead leaves remind you of your own pending death.

Or is it that you were taught too severely as a child that clutter makes you a bad child. 

And if you really need to hide away those disturbing &/or shameful leaves—out of sight, out of mind?—there are other ways to go. What ever happened to a good ol’ fashioned broom or rake and a little elbow grease? That would be healthier for everyone, right? 

Why Family Guy Sucks

Okay, maybe “sucks” isn’t the right word...but then again, maybe it is. How ‘bout this: Family Guy is just not funny.

First, a little background. I don’t remember exactly when Family Guy started, but when it did, I didn’t watch it. I suspect I just didn’t want to invest the time and energy into yet another TV show. For a long time, I’ve felt that I watched too much crap on TV as it is.

For quite a few years now, various people have mentioned Family Guy  to me, and when I said I didn’t watch it (or until about 3 years ago had never seen it) they suggested that I would really like it. So when I finally watched a few episodes (unusual little side note: the first 3 or 4 times I watched it, it was the same episode) I just didn’t think it was funny. So when I mentioning this lack of funny to people who would recommend it, they suggested that I just hadn’t seen the “right” episodes. Well, I really don’t have much interest in sifting through an entire series of mediocre episodes just to find the “right” ones. One person even mentioned some incident or reference in an episode that recurred several seasons later and that it was just amazingly hilarious. But again, I’m not gonna wade through a lot of crap to find a few moments of hilarity. Especially not when I can find other shows that I actually consistently like.

I haven’t watched many episodes, but just today (technically, yesterday) I gave it another try. I even watched “Blue Harvest”, the Star Wars episode. I’m a Star Wars fan. I love it, but I also recognize how fertile an area it is for parody. So I held on to some hope (a new hope?) for that episode. There were some humorous moments. But they were relatively few and far between.

So... Here is why I think Family Guy just isn’t funny.

Now, I’m assuming it’s supposed to be a comedy. It feels like a comedy. And from what I have seen, Family Guy does what most sit coms do (which I hate): for much of its comedy it relies on characters doing something stupid or telling a lie and then doing more stupid things or telling more lies to keep other characters from finding out about the original stupid thing/lie.

The thing is, I just don’t think that being stupid &/or lying is funny. Or admirable. Certainly not something we should be putting out there over and over, being done by “the beautiful people” so that we media consumers/sheep admire it.

The other thing that Family Guy relies on for humor is random references. But the problem is that when random stuff happens, it's just random stuff. It's like comedy for people with ADD. Or people who are high.

“Look here’s some random reference! If you’re much younger than us, the people writing this show, you probably won’t have a clue what we’re referring to. But that’s okay, ‘cause even if you did know the reference, it’s still not actually funny. We’re just hoping for that ‘Oh I recognize that’ reaction which people might misinterpret as funny or good.”

But I tell you, people, simply recognizing something doesn’t make it funny or good. (There could be a whole other blog in here about people wanting what they know, and how that can be dangerous. I was just thinking about that tendency today, and it’s political ramifications. But back to Family Guy’s randomness. ) There's no payoff, no later call-back of the random stuff. 

Now, (by way of contrast,) I do like South Park. Yes, it’s crude. Yes, it shows children being rude and disrespectful to everyone, et cetera.  But it’s not really a show for kids. The same is true of The Simpsons, and those shows shouldn’t be marketed in any way as kid-friendly programming. When real-life kids act that way, it’s appalling. And their parents should be punished for allowing them to get that way.

Anyway, I certainly recognize the similarities between South Park and Family Guy. They’re both animated series, for adults (South Park more so) which have a lot of popular culture and historical references. Both sometimes seem random, HOWEVER in South Park the random stuff almost always comes back in the story in some significant way.

I like unpredictability, spontaneity, random references. But in a dramatic or comedic work, which someone has put effort into, to shape it into something better-crafted than an improvisation, the unpredictability (et cetera) should eventually result in a sense of inevitability, or payoff. In other words, it shouldn’t just be some random shit thrown out there because it just came to mind. The creators should take responsibility for what they put out there, and make it worth our time to watch. Don’t just throw whatever nonsense comes babbling out of your brain at us. I know that people are stupid, but don’t pander to the stupidity. Make a little more effort.

That’s all I’m asking: don’t just throw random crap at us and tell us it’s funny. Put some effort into writing, people. 

Dear actors...

Dear actors (and singers and dancers),

I’d like to take a moment today to talk (write) about headshots (or, bodyshots for you dancer-types). You all need them. And you all get excited when you get a bunch of proofs for new headshots. And you all get excited when your friends post them on the facebook, so you can vote on which they should use. But sooo many of you seem perhaps to not get what headshots should be. If you have photographer friends who do headshots, please share this with them.

Your headshot needs to look like you...how you actually look when you go into an audition. I realize that having someone take beautiful, glamorous pictures of you that make you look amazing (or maybe those quirky “look how fun I am?” pictures), and which you put in front of your audition notebook and see before each audition and get to show everyone who might cast you...all that can be a great ego boost. I really do get it. It’s nice to think that you look amazing. But chances are, oh actor- and singer- and dancer-types, you are, in regular life, beautiful. And in your glamorous-looking headshots your beauty achieves a level of unreality.

But a director doesn’t need to see that. None of the people on the “other side of that table” need to see that. I’m a music director. I’ve been in lots of auditions, and not just over to the side playing the piano. I’ve am actively involved in making casting decisions, so I know what goes on, I know what’s said in those discussions. Waaayyy too many times I’ve heard someone say “what about this person”, and someone else says “who is that?”, and someone holds up a headshot, and someone else says “do they look like that”, and someone says “uh no, not really”, and someone else says “well, what did they look like?”.

Now, I tell you, folks, there is no need for that conversation. The reason you give us a headshot is so we who are trying to cast a show or fill a spot in a company or whatever you’re auditioning for can recall what you look like. We usually see lots of people in auditions, and we can’t always remember. So instead of a headshot that captures the most glamorous possible you, pick one that captures the typical audition-you. If we want to know that you can look glamorous and can’t imagine it in our heads, we can always call you back and ask you to glam up.

The glamorous headshot is great if you have a modeling portfolio. And if you have a buddy who takes pictures for you, it’s great that they can do that sort of thing. That’s what fashion photography is about, That’s what glamor photography is about. I say go ahead and get a couple of those kind of pics, to post on the facebook so your friends can say “wow you look so hot” and to look at daily to feel good and know that you are a beautiful person. But also get some real actor headshots. The more unusual the angle or position or lighting set up or make up required, the more likely the resulting photos aren’t gonna look like “normal” you.

Please, don’t give us the glamor shots. Don’t give us the 2 hairstyles ago pic. Don’t give us the 50 pounds ago pic. Don’t give us a pic more than a few years old. If you tend to alternate between two looks, then get headshots for both looks. For example: guys if you sometimes wear a beard, get bearded and clean-shaven headshots. If you absolutely need us to see you looking glamorous, then fine, get those headshots, but then also come to auditions looking that way. (Of course, chances are we’ll think that it’s kinda odd and maybe you’re crazy or something, and we won’t cast you.) And if you think that we need to see variety (the audition-you plus some other version)...don’t. We probably have at least a normal ability to imagine you in a different costume or hairstyle or makeup. Trust us a little.

Okay. That’s it. Maybe I’ve overdone it. Maybe I just needed to say “PEOPLE! Stop using those damn headshots that look like another person!” But I just like to go on, don’t I?

Forgive me

I’ve recently seen a couple of movies that have confessional scenes. I’ve never been in a confessional. I’m not Catholic. And being the critic I am of church and state and institutionalized control, I never cared for the idea of confession as a requirement in life. But I suddenly realize that maybe there’s something to it—something positive, something useful.

Maybe the act of revealing your shortcomings (I’m not comfortable with the word “sins”—it’s part of a whole mindset or belief system that I don’t want to participate in and to which I strongly object) to someone else can be healing. That’s sort of what (psycho) therapy is about, right?—you talking about your life and someone else, supposedly neutral about the whole thing, helping you see what’s good and what’s not.

I think confession is supposed to be anonymous. Again, I’m not Catholic, so I’m not completely sure. But if you always go to the same church it’s gonna be one of a few priests in there, right? Or maybe always the same guy. So not really anonymous. Some people may find comfort in that—confessing to the same person over and over. He can notice trends and warn against ongoing problems. But true anonymity would sometimes be a plus—you know, with the really shameful stuff.

Maybe we should all take turns confessing to each other. And forgiving each other. It just seems like that would have to be good on the whole.

experimenting

I just heard the phrase "experimenting with drugs" in a movie from 2001. I mention the year because it's not like something from the 60's or 70's. The phrase is probably still in use. The movie is Series 7: The Contenders. It's an interesting sort of commentary on TV violence and reality shows. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0251031/
Anyway, I'm thinking about that phrase "experimenting with drugs". But do people really experiment with drugs? Don't people just basically try drugs or take drugs (or continue to take drugs)? I'm not used to hearing about kids "experimenting" with cigarettes or alcohol or sex...well, maybe with homosexuality.
So if it's something that's legal or "the norm" for adults but undesirable for kids, then it's something kids get into, involved with, whatever. But if it's drugs or maybe homosexuality, then the kids are "experimenting"? Why the difference? Is it the hope on the part of parents or other adults that once the experiment is done, the behavior will stop, whereas drinking, smoking and straight sex are fine in the long run?

saving the world...or not

I just had a thought about saving the world and not saving the world.

Right-wing Christian fundamentalist types, who believe in the “literal word of the bible” (or it’s standard traditional interpretation) and all that jazz, have no incentive to reduce/reuse/recycle or reduce carbon emissions or conserve non-renewable resources or develop alternative energy sources or anything else that might allow life to continue on this planet. Nor have they any incentive to strive for peace among nations or any of the things that I would imagine a “reasonable” person to want in regard to sustaining life on this planet.

They’re too busy looking forward to the rapture, because they know it’s gonna happen in our time. So why should they bother? In fact, maybe they should do anything they can to hurry it along so they can all party in paradise with the Jesus…and the 72 virgins.

Wait, am I mixing my religions?

trailer

This morning I saw an appalling movie trailer. The movie is Machete. The trailer consisted mostly of a guy chopping off a bunch of people’s heads in various clips from the movie. It’s a real movie. I looked it up. There are other trailers that are “approved for appropriate audiences” (the green band previews) that are still pretty violent. But the one I saw this morning showed heads coming off and blades going into bodies, an explosion or two and a bare ass. (I hope it was a red band trailer… “mature audiences only”.)  It kept coming up as a 15-second ad before other videos.

I’m not generally squeamish about movie violence, but this was just violence…no context. I didn’t know if this was a good guy violently avenging wrong, saving the lives of innocents, whatever OR some crazy psycho bad guy just killing people for kicks. Now, having looked at one of the other trailers, I have some idea of the context. And this first trailer I saw was probably a compilation of the most violent 15 seconds from throughout the movie. So it’s not just a feature-length film full of creative beheadings.

It was truly disturbing, especially because it kept coming up every time I tried to watch some other video. I’m not a fan of censorship, but if you’re gonna do it (and we do) that sort of glorification of violence has got to be more damaging than a graphic realistic-looking sex scene, which I’ve rarely seen in a commercial movie and never in a trailer. Who would put together a trailer like that? Who is the target audience? Seriously, what…the…fuck!?

The so-so Lebowski

I watched The Big Lebowski last night. I'd seen at least some of it before, but I think I didn't make it through it. I guess I just didn't get it. I didn't find any of the characters likable or interesting. The dialogue seemed as if it was trying to be witty and clever, but I didn't find it so. Well, John Turturro's character was kinda interesting. And he perhaps the only funny line in the movie: "...Nobody fucks with the Jesus." And it's not all that funny. Ostensibly the movie is a comedy.
It was playing somewhere in town "on the big screen". I know a few folks who went, but I didn't. I watched it at home instantly on the netfix. I remember not liking it especially when I watched (part of) it before, so I had no interest in going out and paying money to watch something I don't really care for while surrounded by people who love it, who have this reverence for it, like it's such a great film and somehow deep and meaningful.
I gave it 2 stars, meaning "I didn't like it". I give most things I watch on the netflix 2, 3, or 4 stars. 1 star means it was awful and I couldn't get through it. 5 stars means I loved it and would watch it again several times (not right away; that would be an extremely rare thing). Movies like Glory, The Shawshank Redemption, Driving Miss Daisy...you know, anything with Morgan Freeman...those get 5 stars. Okay, just kidding about Morgan Freeman, although I usually love him. I think I give 5 stars more often than 1, but I'm sure there are lots of 1-star-worthy movies that I'd never even consider watching long enough to give it a star.
Now I'm curios to see exactly what all I've given a 5 star rating. Maybe I'll check it out and make a list. I'm a little crazy like that.
Anyway...
My feeling about The Big Lebowski is not unlike my feeling about Office Space, but I like Office Space a bit more. it might get 3 stars, which for me is not "I liked it" but rather "It's okay". I've heard people speak of Office Space like it could be this life-changing thing. It's not. It's sort of amusing. Of course, I've never worked in an office, so maybe I don't have the necessary background to truly appreciate it.
When I was in high school I worked a couple of summers at the Salvation Army Thrift Store. During college I worked 2 summers as a camp counselor and I worked a couple of semesters part-time sitting at a desk at a student center making sure people signed in and didn't do anything crazy while they were there. Other than that, as an adult, I've never had a "regular" sort of job: never worked in an office or a restaurant or a store; never answered phones or sold Amway products or had a internet business or anything like that; never even temped. Since college, actually it started while I was in college, I've made a living as a musician. I guess that's pretty rare. I have no interest in finding a "regular" job and have no obvious, practical experience if I wanted to apply for one. If I were injured somehow and couldn't play the piano anymore, I'd sort of be fucked. Also, I have no insurance, so I'd really be fucked.


I made a list.

5-star

An Inconvenient Truth

Camp

The Aristocrats

Knocked Up

Borat

Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Shortbus

Big Love: Season 1

This Film is Not Yet Rated

The Five Pennies

Hamlet 2

Rome: Season 2

Star Trek (the newest film)

Perfume: the Story of a Murderer

Spaced: The Complete Series

Blood Moon

10 Items or Less

The Office: Series 2 (BBC)

The Office Special (BBC)

The Office: Season 1 (US)

Dorothy Dandridge: An American Beauty

A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1968, royal Shakespeare Company)

I Love Sarah Jane

What Would Jesus Buy?

Weeds: Season 1

Heroes: Season 3

Earth 2 (TV series)

Coupling: Season 1, 2 & 3

Regarding Henry

Grease 2

Stargate: The Ark of Truth

Auschwitz: Inside the Nazi State (BBC documentary)

The League of Gentlemen: Series 1 (BBC)

The Celluloid Closet

Bill Cosby: Himself

The Education of Shelby Knox

My Favorite Year

Paper Clips (WATCH THIS)

The Comedians of Comedy: The Movie

Holiday Inn

Gentleman’s Agreement

Park

Walk hard: The Dewey Cox Story

Unbreakable

The Dark Crystal

Farscape: Season 1, 2 & 3

The Fifth Element

Eddie Izard: Dressed to Kill

Daniel Tosh: Completely Serious

Good Night, and Good Luck

Casablanca

The Glenn Miller Story

Sliders: Season 1 & 2 (went steadily downhill after that, if there’d been a Season 6: 1-star)

Dr. Strangelove

Godzilla (1998, Matthew Broderick)

Enemy Mine

The Color of Magic

Sex Drive

Chaplin: The Movie

Seven Pounds

Penelope

Arrested Development: Season 1 & 2

Better Off ted: Season 1

The IT Crowd: Series 1 & 2

Kidnapped (series)

A Clockwork Orange

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen

WALL-E

Dune

The Guild: Season 1, 2 & 3

Avatar: The Last Airbender: (the series…really great, and I’m not an anime fan)

Pushing Daisies: Season 1

Skins: Volume 1

Spartacus: Blood and Sand

Sweet Land

I rated these 5-star, but probably shouldn’t have

Little Miss Sunshine

The F-Bomb: A Documentary (I don’t even remember this)

The Producers (that has to be wrong)

100 Girls

1 star

Vegas in Space

Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter

Delta of Venus

The Last Kennedy

Babylon 5: The Lost Tales

Day of Wrath

Specimen

Drew Hastings: Irked and Miffed

Sizzle Beach, USA (early Kevin Costner)

The Breakup Artist

Vampires Anonymous

Sinners

Cyber Wars

Girls will Be Girls

Nature’s grave

The Girlfriend Experience

Warlock

House of Voices

The Beach Party at the Threshold of Hell

Flesh for Frankenstain

Ratko: The Dictator’s Son

Severed: Forest of the Dead

Rampage

The Devil’s Tomb

Life Blood

Thr3e

If I was a sculptor…but then again, no

Often lately when I’m writing it feels like I’m sculpting. I’ve never sculpted. Well, maybe I did in some elementary school art class, but who can remember that? Not me. I don’t know how to sculpt. But this feeling I have lately is what I imagine sculpting to be like. It may happen when I’m working on a big script or, more likely, when I’m composing.

The feeling is that of having a big chunk of material that I’m chipping away at to create something. I don’t mean I’m literally looking at all the possible words or notes that I could use, then I eliminate the ones I won’t use until I have a speech or melody. It’s more that I have a certain amount of material that I have to write, and I chip away at it little by little as I write more and more.

With a script, it’s a result of the “pre-writing” I do. My first major step with a new piece is to write a lot about the idea, the characters, the story, etc. So by the time I start writing the first real draft, I already know the story, the scenes are, what happens in each; if it’s a musical I know where the songs happen, what they’re about, who sings them, and what basic type each song is: ballad; up-tempo; charm song; something dancy. I may not know exactly how long the piece will end up being, but I know I have certain things I’ll have to write before I have a complete draft of the script. That doesn’t mean I don’t find new ideas or surprises as I write. I do, and I embrace them, and they sometimes lead to great things.

I’ve tried writing the other way: starting with a blank page and some germ of an idea; supposedly discovering what it’s all about as I write it. But it seems to produce a confused jumble of a piece that I have a hard time making sense of. It’s not a very satisfying process for me. I think I have a strong left- and right-brain: I’m organized and creative. In those quizzes you can take that show a result of a brain with a spot somewhere representing where you fall on the left-brain/right-brain thing, my result is almost right in the center, on more than one test. So I think my pre-writing method satisfies both hemispheres, both tendencies.

I don’t really pre-write music in that same way. However, since all I really write anymore is songs and other material for musicals, I always have the framework of lyrics and character and dramatic situation. Often as I write music, the lyrics will change, sometimes a little and sometimes a lot, but the basics—subject matter, character, situation— generally stay.

 The sculpting feeling is even stronger with the music. Although I often have (sometimes very clear) ideas of what the music will sound like as I’m writing lyrics, I generally don’t really work on the music until I have a good draft of the script done. So just like with the pre-writing and the script, I know when I start on the music that I have a certain amount of things I have to write before I have a complete draft of the score. So in the larger sense, I’m chipping away at the score, song by song, and with each song I’m chipping away at it, section by section, phrases by phrase, occasionally even note by note.

So, today I will return to sculpting. I’ve been working for a while this summer on a new show. I’ve written a lot this summer: a 10-minute play; a 10-minute musical; another play and a musical each about 15 minutes or so; a one-act play which I think is done, for now anyway; a one-act musical for a young audience (first draft of script done, needs a lot of work, more story development—guess I didn’t do enough pre-writing—no music yet); and this musical I’m focusing on now—a long one-act, an hour, maybe 70 minutes or so. If I really work at it the rest of this week and next, I could have a mostly complete draft of the score soon.