The Debatables

So, there I was, sitting on a flight from Salt Lake to Detroit. A gentleman next to me started a conversation about flights, family, and other things that eventually turned to the topic of religion. Turns out, the man was originally from Salt Lake; he was chock full of stories about his missionary parents, his family history, etc. but told me; as he took as sip from his gin & tonic, that he was a firm unbeliever in the church.

I'm not a hostile type of person, whether in discussion or good-old-fashioned arguments; a person can learn a lot more with understanding and a listening ear. So, despite my wickedly deep-seated and voluntarily-repressed competitive streak, I just listened and interjected only when the unspoken cues permitted.

It conversation went on for a few minutes, and his points were slowly and kindly whittled away by his own sense of reasoning until he started to realize what he was doing to himself. He was kind about it, but simply said "I'm done talking now."

I helped myself to the magazine he'd offered earlier, and thought about so many other conversations and opportunities I've had to talk about the same subject. I've often wondered what has come of some of the people I've spoken with.

...and I thought of this:



Just a related thought. Humans have bred dogs for thousands of years, and there's a fantastic variety in breeds, but in the end they are all the same species. They all share the same genes, and can all-size variables aside-interbreed with one another. What does it all mean!?

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Close Encounters of the 3D Kind

I watched another 3D movie on Thanksgiving. Yes, I'm one of 'those' people; the kind that go to the cinema and force the poor unwitting masses of working teens to spend an unhealthy portion of their day off working for the man in the suit.

All that aside I've decided to take a stand, or a side, and that side is:

I like 3D movies.

There, I said it. I'm one of 'those' people too.

Avatar in 3D? Yes.
UP in 3D? Naturally.
Tangled? of course! (Please add that one to my favorites.)

The technology is so much better these days, and it's has come to the point where it adds to the experience. The last movie had details I'd never have noticed without those oh-so-stylish lenses tacked to my face.

Now, I look forward to a time when all of us who enjoy 3D films will live a life free of ridicule. I look forward to a time when everyone will learn to appreciate the fine level of detail revealed in them.I look forward when the people of the 2D world will embrace the happiness that can be.

Thank you.

First Class for First Class

As mentioned before, air travel can become something of a chore without some kind of perk to make it worthwhile. Complementary upgrades, warm meals, mixed ratios of genuine smiles and forced grimaces... It's all in a weeks travels.

There is one thing I could do without however. As happy as I am that there hasn't been smoking on any domestic flight since 2000 (a smoking section in an airplane or restaurant is like a peeing section in the pool,) one problem remains. Alcohol; especially free alcohol.

Stuffing my frame into a coach class seat can be well worth not sitting next to the mind-numbing, gag-inducing stench of the upper-class alcoholic taking advantage of the cabin class amenities.

I still care about their well being. They're just as troubled as any of us, they just had the misfortune of finding solace in a substance...

A Whole Lotta Twilight Aping, Movie Mimicking Muck

There are a great deal of folks out there who don't believe their television watching, movie loving ways are doing any harm. I suppose if you watched only the best, it might be a good thing...

"Now wait a second!" you may be thinking. "You love movies!" "And wait, aren't you just finding things wrong with that simpleton you almost married?"

Well, not really. I just find human relationship studies fascinating. I kind of loved this bit of fun on the topic of language style matching.

"When two people start a conversation, they usually begin talking alike within a matter of seconds..." "This also happens when people read a book or watch a movie. As soon as the credits roll, they find themselves talking like the author or the central characters."

James Pennebaker, University of Texas, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology

It's always nice to have a little reminder to watch what I watch...

Embrace This Day With An Enthusiastic Welcome

I don't write so personal thoughts very often; at least without some kind of cryptic shroud, but there are so many times in life when people around me show me - usually unintentionally - why we are really here.

My life is so full of blessings, opportunities, friends, family and other things that make every moment worthwhile. There are so many things in this life for which to be grateful.

So often, there isn't anything I want more than to understand every person I know. I want to see the world as they do. Trying to do this has always led to the finest opportunities and has always taught me to love each person for the elements of good in them, despite the bad in them.

What Women Want

So, what's the answer?

Guess you'll just have to find out; Besides, I wouldn't deprive you of the thrill of finding out for yourself.

Of course, you can take this fella's advice.



p.s. I don't really have the answers... Believing that would be arrogance.

Yet you are alone... so very alone...

It seems that normally, about this time of year, I'd be just getting back into the swing of things at school. I'd be getting to know my new cellists, tenors, and other musicians.

So much new exciting activity, and now...

It's a little bland. And I'm having some symptoms of withdrawal.

Little spots, fevers, blisters, dry mouth...

So I'm lying about the spots.

And the fever, and.. ok all of it.

I play and sing a little here and there with friends, but it's isn't quite cutting it. Maybe when I'm sucked all the way back into music, this will be the year I think of as the time "I was just finding myself."

It's off to Chicago on Tuesday. Some of the finest people I know live there, and so, life as a homeless bum will go on.

At least I'm not this alone...

Non Sequitur

I was thinking of a great teacher, friend, aunt, and single woman. She's in her late forties now, and she seems to be quite happy with her life.

It's no secret that women are better at living alone than men. I don't think I could do it; there was a time when yes, I could be out in the world for weeks, months, even years with little personal human contact, and be just fine. I was there and I remember it, but now I cannot even comprehend it.

I blame Rebbecca... I suppose I have to grudgingly thank her for showing me how wonderful companionship was, and how much I really did need other people.

I also wonder how much a close family helps stave off the loneliness, sadness and generally psychopathic tendencies that develop in aged non-marrieds. (That is, of course, if one were to take the Utah Valley version of coercion a certain way...)

The question of the day is:

Do these people like Sherri Dew, my beloved teacher, and several close neighbors actually enjoy true day-to-day happiness? Or have they simply put on a front for so long they actually believe it?

That said...

Eric Whitacre's choral literature; specifically "Sleep" and "Water Night," are two of the most exquisitely crafted and perfect musical works in the world. They are truly works of unearthly beauty and imagination as Jack Robinson so beautifully worded.

I believe in the faith that grows
And the four right chords can make me cry
When I'm with you I feel like I could die
And that would be all right, all right

Yep, every time I hear those sung lines, I think of this, the most perfect rendition ever performed.



I mean no offense to the BYU Singers, but the flowing, lilting, perfectly blending group shown above will beat out mechanical kids playing at ensemble performance any day. :-)

Cracked and Crumbling Foundations

Disclaimer: I am not perfect, or even a great specimen of my species. I make no such claims. I am sure there are quite a few people in the world who do not jive with my chemistry. I'm sure there are countless folks who just don't think I'm an attractive person. I'm even willing to bet there are a few people out there who just can't stand the way I speak.

That said...

I would like to start a new trend. Yes friends, this is the "Pumice Is Your Friend" campaign.

Steve Harvey, when asked what men want in women, said:

"Well, one thing is: your feet can't look like mine!"

Double standard? Absolutely.

Here's the rub: Women are generally stuck in the unfortunate position of being a part of the sex with the majority of members on this little blue marble. I'm fairly certain that if there were only one woman for every three men on this planet, each man would take better hygienic care of himself. On a side note, He'd probably develop character improvements sooner and learn to communicate better with other men.

But since self-motivation is the only kind of motivation we're going to get here, let me suggest something.

I propose that each of us start with our foundations. That's right men... Look down at those dogs.

Do you suffer from Tree Man feet?

Is your personality the only thing keeping your dear girl from losing her lunch when she looks down at your calloused, mistreated, and poorly maintained feet?

I have the answer for you!



It may take some flexibility, open mindedness, time, and a few uncomfortable minutes in the personal hygiene section of your local grocery store but I promise you'll never regret it.

You'll notice that sandals will be attractive once again. You'll see a lingering eye instead of an upturned nose. You may even discover improvements in the never-ending battle against gym shoe odor!

Well, without being too blunt, let me say that neglected feet are gross feet. It takes a very special someone to ignore the possibility that those poor abused dogs might find themselves looking like this one day...

It takes a real man to keep those foundations at their top-notch best.

Pay the Price

A friend and I had a discussion about how much it takes to be a "pretty girl." She was telling me how much it costs, how much it time it took, and so much more. I should have guessed; it just never crossed my mind.

I was working in a range today and saw two punks and their "pretty girl" friend. They were having a good time, giving other people a hard time, and hitting everything but the target big time.

I wondered about the girl. I wondered what she looked forward to in life. I wondered what she really thought of the two schmucks in the shooting stalls.

I also wondered how much she spend each month to attract the element she did.

I hope they turn out ok.

As for me, a pretty girl is fine, but I'll be waiting for the beautiful woman who--at least to me--looks her best when she wakes with tousled hair, no make-up and a smile.

Even if she doesn't think it's true.

Memphis Blues

Beale St. Blues; the cure for common evening.

It was too warm for comfort and the smell was intolerable. The throngs of bikers in the street were loud, brash, and caustic. The same 12 bars emanating from every club, bar and BBQ joint were good, but oh so similar.

But I liked it. Part of me just wanted to be a part of the crowd. The mob mentality sucked me in for a few minutes of peer pressured bliss.

I'm leaving Boston now. There was some work to be done here:



On a side note... Harvard campus is decidedly overrated. Dinghy, and with a smell similar to Beale St. It seems to be the summer haven for young punks who possess a great deal of potential intelligence, a great lack of moral and emotional maturity, and far too much funding available to them. I suppose the same situation can exist everywhere.

Wow! How negative! Perhaps the fact that my throat is so sore I can barely eat is tainting my mood. I think I'll try again later...

Family is as Family Does

Was in Napa once again, only this time I don't have a car, hotel, or company funds at my disposal. It's just me, my wits, my guts, and oh yeah... My extended family.

Whenever I discover some personal quirk and revel in my uniqueness, I have only to visit my family to discover the true source. It's an enlightening experience and usually just a little bit Twilight. That's Twilight Zone for you young folks.

On to Beyond

I lost another friend last week.

He was an institute teacher and an author. He was an excellent man, a wonderful father and caring husband. I'll miss him a great deal.

I needed visit him again; I wanted to ask him some questions and talk to him for a while.

It seems that I never seem to be able to take the time I need to visit these friends. I'm always to busy it seems; there's so much for me to do - for me.

And so there are regrets. Too many what-ifs and should-haves to count, and the lesson has yet to be learned.

I really should just say what I really feel like saying. Perhaps less stress would be the result.

That's it... I'll just say what I want to say to the girl, the father, the mother, the friend, the girl who wants to be the girl, the brother, the teacher, the biggest heartbreak, and the sloth...

Drawing in the Lines

I just read a friend's post. (Thanks Jules!) It reminded me of a time when I was having a difficult day. I was driving home from work when I noticed the freshly painted lines on the road. Off to the side of the road, there was a strange bump in the road, and the line followed suit.

It was a raccoon who had had the misfortune of not crossing quickly enough. The painting truck had simply painted over the misfortune creature. I actually laughed hysterically and almost to the point of tears. It made my day, frankly, and as horrible as it was to do so, I thanked the fates of small critters for the laugh.

One day at a friends day-care, I found a raccoon puppet, some yellow paper, a toy grill and a sense of humor.

I decided to take the redneck initiative and re-create the event.

The Good Life

Life is good.

I was thinking of a girl I knew from high school - Stephanie Clark, now Stephanie Nielson. She was a bright, beautiful girl. She, like so many in the graduating class of 1999, seemed to have truly wonderful things ahead. I didn't know her well, and so of course, never kept track, but one day I heard that she'd been in a plane crash. Though in a coma for months, she survived, as did her husband, but the pilot/instructor did not.

I didn't hear much more about it, but her story is now presented here.



I think it's interesting to see how her scarring can match the scarring some of us carry internally. So many of us are damaged, but it simply isn't as apparent as Stephanie's.

I've made some good friends, and I've seen just how scarred they can be. I am hard pressed to judge anyone now, and I feel as if there aren't words to describe how much I care for each and every person I meet.

I sometimes write posts that seem a little harsh, or judgmental, and if I were to be honest, I couldn't deny that. Without justifying those, I can truly say that I love and appreciate each and every one of the people who may have crying children at concerts, who cannot seem to drive with an ounce of common sense, who harshly judge others, or who suffer from any form of injury be it internal or on the outside for the world to see.

Well, I suppose that is my thought for the day. I'd still like to see glass cry-rooms for concert halls and performance venues, but we don't live in a perfect world.

:-)

A Time to Heal

I love Napa Valley. I love coming here to breathe, heal, rest and recover. It is difficult for me to describe in words, this place, so I will stop here.

Antitheses

Opposite to the other, yet they remain in me. Simultaneously and side by side.
All a part of the experience of life.
and all a part of this soul's definition.

Perduta ho la speranza in voi mirare,
e di speranza sola nutrivo il core.
Ahimè! Ah! come farò, se per amare,
la fede ho già smarrita,
la fede nell'amore?
Perduta ho la speranza in voi mirare,
e di speranza sola nutrivo il core!


Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.


O del mio amato ben perduto incanto!
Lungi è dagli occhi miei
chi m'era gloria e vanto!
Or per le mute stanze
sempre lo cerco e chiamo
con pieno il cor di speranze?
Ma cerco invan, chiamo invan!
E il pianger m'è sì caro,
che di pianto sol nutro il cor.

Mi sembra, senza lui, triste ogni loco.
Notte mi sembra il giorno;
mi sembra gelo il foco.
Se pur talvolta spero
di darmi ad altra cura,
sol mi tormenta un pensiero:
Ma, senza lui, che farò?
Mi par così la vita vana cosa
senza il mio ben.


A part of you has grown in me. And so you see,
it's you and me together forever and never apart,
maybe in distance, but never in heart.

Thought of the Day

"That's God gettin' ya."

Such a familiar phrase; my best friend uses it all the time when random, funny and often painful things happen. I used to hate it; maybe I thought it was blasphemous. Anyway... Sometimes I wonder what I need to learn from them.

Just as the knees were almost up to par, the TMJ acted up. Just as that ended, I started muscle spasms in my upper back and neck.



It came to the point Friday where I had to stop my piano trio in the middle of a performance, and walk out. The pain was unbearable, and the playing, impossible.

I've never had to do that.

Slight blow to the pride, but I don't feel too badly about it. There are so many other things in life that are far more significant than one failed performance.

There has been one cure all for this--service.

No matter how poor my spirits are, I only have to help someone in an appreciable way. It usually solves the problem right quick...

So, try it! You'll like it!

Expert Ignorance

A family friend offered me a note with several numbers on it. They belong to some string players; he thought I would be interested in playing music with them.

This sort of thing has happened before, and more often than not, they haven't been superb players. I truly enjoy making music and having fun with different players from all walks of life, but sometimes I feel as if I'm in a spelling bee with first graders. (I've been on the first-grade side quite a few times myself.)

An elitist? Not at all. I rehearse and perform for hours each day with so many talented musicians, and I've been privileged to do so. I think sometimes people don't understand what I do for this major, for this profession, and for this love of music.

I wonder if I flaunt as much ignorance when I offer an opinion on an English major's composition as they would offering editorial advice for my orchestral scores.

Probably... any judgment would be well deserved

I suppose I'll keep my opinions to myself.

For It's Sake

I adore performing. Whether it's music, presenting, public speaking or just being around people, I enjoy it.

I've often thought about what makes a person a performer. Is it a desire for recognition? A twisted take on the "words of affirmation" love language? A desire to prove something perhaps?

To be honest, I don't have the answer tonight...

I do know this about music performance: I love music more than I can say in words. I hear it when I sleep, during the lucid moments between dreams and consciousness and during the day while I move from task to task.

I adore writing and literature, science, linguistics, art, and so on, but music touches me in a way nothing else does--save certain scents and flavors.

Because music touches me so deeply as to leave an incredibly long lasting impression, I often desire to share what I am able to experience with others. When I can sing or play something that is able to truly touch others in the way it does me, I'm a happy camper.

So there it is... Music performance for the love of sharing music.

As for the other aspects of performance, I'll be looking into that fulfilling the "words of affirmation" bit.

Until next time...

Year of Years

So, it looks like I'm going to be working for the next year and three or so months. It's a bit of a blessing really, I'll be able to save enough for four years of graduate studies, get a new car, and travel the world for a while.

I was reflecting back on the last 4 years; I like what I have done, where I've been and what I've become. A person would be foolish to ask for better friends.

Now... I'd better make sure to keep up on the cello, lest I become a statistic like so many of my peers.

ps. The Concerto Aria Concert should be just about fantastic. Everyone should come.

Temporomandibular

Say that five times fast...

I have this little dysfunction with my temporomandibular joint. Sometimes; and I mean sometimes, it becomes inflamed, painful, uncooperative, and the all around bad guy.

Behold the bad guy of our story:



There hasn't been any pain in the joint for about three years, but it started a couple days ago.

I'm wondering if I'm just aging at an accelerated rate. It seems that as soon as one thing is better another rears it's head.

Well, that's the news for this morning... I'm going to find some ibuprofen.

Of Strings and Sweets

Ladies and gentlemen. It is my pleasure to announce a successful Valentine's Day weekend. There was dinner and swing/ballroom dancing to a 16 piece band, all with the finest friends. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea--Kirk Douglas was quite a stud. There were two versions of Jane Eyre (yes I do appreciate the book and countless remakes.)

Of course, what the day be without gifts? Yes friends, sometimes the best gift is the one you give yourself.



It's a handy-dandy brand new little giant 12-string. Perfect for those performances where six strings just won't cut it and anything more would just be crazy.

I also made a stop by the local See's for yet another thoughtful gift.



Ok, I know what you're thinking... just a step above pathetic. I understand, but must respectfully disagree. I rather like my gifts to me... they're so much better a flaming bag of used dog food.

And now a word to the wise:

Oh, remember young men, flowers and other sincere gestures are to be used sparingly, lest you find the above mentioned flaming bag on your doorstep.

Death of a Businessman

It was fall 2006. I started school as a business major and a first time freshman. I'd been out the the game for a while, but wanted the college experience. I knew I'd never be able to discover what it was like if I didn't try it for myself, and it has been one of the best decisions of my life.

I auditioned for the Symphony because it had been 7 years since I'd played in high school and I actually missed playing with an orchestra. It only snowballed from there. More music classes, more opportunities to play. More skills built, scholarships awarded and now I'm graduating with a music degree. Cello/vocal performance and choral conducting. I'm the principal cellist in the Chamber Orchestra, student conductor in the Chamber Choir, member of the honors vocal double quartet, and a participant in many other projects and performing groups.

It's not bragging, it's just an insight. I've been incredibly blessed to be able to study what I love and earn a living too. (I absolutely love my job which, has almost nothing to do with my studies.)

What a time I've had. I studied this last year for the LSAT. I did well in my studies, but was guided to music yet again. Funny how that works...

Not performing or teaching anymore would be like death. Music is an inextricable part of my life now... Who knew?

Anyway... Masters in cello is coming up soon; I can't wait.

Sitcom a Day

I was considering the fact that there are far too many stories for this little neglected blog, so there will be a new home for them here starting today.

Sitcom Moments

Here is the sitcom story of the day.

I suppose I should explain... A dear friend once "accused" me of having a movie life. I do try my best to excel in whatever I'm doing so I suppose that makes for some interesting stories-especially when I fall flat on my face. Metaphorically speaking of course.

Anyway...

Here is her sitcom/movie moment:

Our dear friend was looking for a parking spot at UVU; of course, anyone who has ever parked there knows what a nightmare trying to find a stall can be.

Often, it becomes necessary wait like a vulture for some unfortunate creature to expire/leave campus. There are even those who wait by the doors, and follow people as they walk from the building to their cars.

On this day, my friend was following a man to his car. Everything was just swell, that is, until a black beast of a car came up to the spot, flashers glaring. The dear fellow motioned to the waiting car, and indicated that there was already someone waiting for the spot... No response... so he placed his bag in his car, walked away, and hid behind another car.

Still no movement from the black car. My friend gave up, drove away and then decided to come back for one last shot at that particular parking lot. Sure enough, the fine fellow was still crouched behind another car. Upon seeing her, he smiled, walked to his car and surrendered the in-demand stall.

Looking up, I see that this may not be the best writing of all time, but it's late and I'm not exceptionally worried about public opinion at this point. Feel free to put into a Seinfeld perspective if it helps...

Happy reading

End of the day

Graduation is coming soon.

I love my life in so many ways, and I'm more grateful that words can express for my family and dear friends. Concerto aria is coming up soon-that'll be fun. We did a fantastic performance in eastern Utah. Happiness is up, painful memories are down, and the days are getting longer.

Complicated You as written to a friend nearly four years ago. I never recorded it; the music was second rate anyway...

Till next time.