Random Thoughts

We've Moved!

2011-09-15T20:24:00.000-04:00

Just a quick note to say I've moved over to the WordPress platform. I don't have time to keep both sites in synch with each other, updating this whenever I write a post there, so if you want to follow Random Thoughts, please click on the link below and choose to follow from there.

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Stormy Weather Whimsy

2011-08-07T23:39:00.000-04:00

The past few days on the East Coast have been nothing short of a steam bath, with temperature in the 90's and humidity at the saturation point. Waves of rainstorms have done little to relieve the heat, but instead have managed to pump up the humidity even more, just when you thought it could not get any more humid. It's the kind of weather that makes most adults rush into the home for shelter, yet I couldn't help but notice a couple of neighborhood children just having a ball in the middle of a torrential downpour, soaked to the bone, and laughing as they belly flopped in makeshift puddles the size of small ponds.

There is nothing like experiencing the world through children's eyes to lift the mood. We could all use a bit more whimsy in our lives. So inspired, and with no real plan in mind, I thought I'd rustle up a few Youtube links in honor of this stormy weather just for fun and to lighten my own mood.

First up is Billie Holiday cooing her way through Stormy Weather. I just love the way she phrases the lyrics musically. (I know, I know, this was a Lena Horne standard... sue me!)

Ah, now that you're all relaxed, I thought I'd liven it up a bit with a song and dance number from the 1943 Classic of a movie titled (what else?) Stormy Weather. This clip starts off with Cab Calloway and Orchestra singing Jumpin' Jive, and early into the number introduces the Nicholas Brothers in what might arguably be one of the single best dance performances ever captured on film - all in a single take to boot! The Stairway Jump Splits in the finale are breathtaking. I know I would have lost my breath, as well as my manhood and consciousness, if I ever tried a stunt like that - OUCH!!!

I need to relax after watching that! Let's keep with the theme and pick another from the Billie Holiday songbook as a way to wrap up this blog entry. Here she is, Lady Day singing Stormy Blues.

Storming or not, I hope you enjoyed your day.

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Some Things Never Change

2011-07-21T22:52:00.003-04:00

A few weeks back, my son returned home from college after his finals to visit us for a couple of days. It was a short visit. He was taking extra classes this summer semester and found a summer job nearby campus, so he needed to get back. Well, I'm pretty sure he came to visit anyway. There were miscellaneous sightings from my wife and me, along with a few neighbors. Further proof? There were baskets of clothes sitting by the washer in need of serious laundering, a whole bunch of food was missing from the refrigerator, and all my beer was gone. Circumstantial evidence perhaps, but still a dead giveaway my son was home. I know, I know, I'm kidding and exaggerating. I really did see and interact with him in the flesh. He needed money - again.

One night, my son wanders into the house with about a dozen of his friends and they were all gushing about how cool something or another was as they were passing around the ear buds to his iPod. I asked him what was so interesting. His response was, "We're listening to a live Podcast of a band we all like. This technology is so cool. Can you believe it? It's streaming live right now from a club downtown."

I started to think about this, and for some reason began blinking. I'm not sure if it was just my mind processing what he just said, or if I was developing a nervous tick thinking about the 3 BMW's I could have owned, all tossed away in the form of a college tuition.

"So... what's so cool about that?" I asked.

"Dad, it's LIVE! It's happening right now, and we're listening to it via a stream! Just imagine all the technology to do that!"

Oh, imagine I did. I had this gnawing feeling inside me, a sense of Deja Vu about all this technology and its application to everyday life. And then it hit me.

I tell ya, the iPod ain't got nothin' over this baby! It's completely portable and powered by a replaceable battery - no charger needed. And of course it comes complete with an earbud - one. But hey, you don't need an ear bud because it can play through a built in speaker, so folks didn't have to pass around or share that ear bud. Ha! And here's the best thing - it picks up LIVE streams of AM signal. Can you imagine that? I'm talking about live people, music, and events you can listen to in real time. In fact, listening to a live Podcast ... sorry, I meant Broadcast of the 1965 World Series on that technological wonder landed me a detention in Mrs. McF's class. She just didn't appreciate sports or technology it seems. Luckily, I only had to write, "I will not take my transistor radio to class" one hundred times on the blackboard before being sent home.

As I reflect on all this marvelous technology it occurs to me, in many ways, little has changed. In fact, as I look at the box above, with that "hip" guy and young woman in Go-Go boots holding onto that radio grooving to the music, it bears a strange resemblance to what arguably must be their kids 30 years later:

Devil With The Blue Dress On - probably not on your iPod but always playing on that transistor radio.

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Winding Down With The Blues

2011-07-19T21:34:00.002-04:00

Late night again, and looking for a nice way to unwind musically. I'm in the mood for some slooooow blues. If you are too, grab a nightcap of your choice, don a set of headphones while I cue up a set of blues songs, and drift off into some relaxation, blues style.

Last Night - The Mannish Boys

Every Day I Have The Blues (Nobody Loves Me) - Ray Charles featuring G.D. McKee

If Trouble Was Money - Albert Collins

Ah... that hit the spot.

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Independence Day Thoughts

2011-07-02T09:07:00.001-04:00

As I reflect on the upcoming holiday, my thoughts fall back to a courageous group of young men with an idea. An idea of a place where people could be free to pursue a life of their choosing; an idea that liberty and freedom were inalienable rights of mankind. So fervent were they in their beliefs, they put it in writing, putting their own lives at risk in the hope a new era would be born.

The following words are not mine. They were written long ago by men far more insightful and courageous.

IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.

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I cannot help but look at some of the grievances listed above and wonder about the apparent irony that many are similar to problems our own government seems to impose upon us in these modern times. As I reflect on all this, I will cue up a sentimental folk song of my youth, my favorite version of America the Beautiful by Ray Charles. To all my fellow American friends, I wish you a happy and spirited holiday weekend. Enjoy!

America the Beautiful - Ray Charles

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La Bohème - Giacomo Puccini

2011-05-28T10:47:00.000-04:00

This is something I had been meaning to do for a while. I started a separate blog for a more full exploration of this grandest form of theater so it wouldn't take up too much space on my Random Thoughts Blog. I realize that Opera is not for everyone, but if you feel inclined or just might be a bit curious to take a peek at a full Opera, read on and visit my Random Musings About Opera blog. It's not a stuffy pretentious look, but a more mainstream introduction to one of my favorite art forms.

La Bohème, French for The Bohemian Woman, is an adaptation of a French Novel Scènes de la Vie de Bohème (Scenes of Behemian Life) written by Henri Murger. The Opera was composed by Giacomo Puccini with the libretto written by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa. La Bohème premiered on February 1, 1896. It is a Opera in four acts, each a different scene and setting in the lives of six bohemians living in Paris around 1830. The cast is as follows … Read More

via Random Musings About Opera

Morning Trails - Springtime at Lakefront

2011-05-06T10:13:00.002-04:00

I am fortunate to live in an area that has hundreds of miles of dedicated walking trails and a marvelous lake and wildlife preserve a few miles from my home. I enjoy an early morning walk or run on these trails, and when I have extra time and the weather is nice, I make my way to the lake, camera in hand. I've been snapping photos of the lake for almost a decade now, and the fascination and beauty of the place never fades. If you have a few moments, join me and see why I consider this waking part of my day to be so special. I'll try not to bore you too much with commentary - the images tend to speak well for themselves.

A Blue Heron searching about for breakfast.

Sunrise making its presence known.

A young buck and his companion enjoying a morning drink. Personally, I prefer a nice strong cup of coffee.

Sometimes, all you really need to do is look upward for inspiration...

A favorite spot for me to reflect, and to journal those random thoughts that occasionally make their way to this blog.

Last year's grasses yielding to this year's new growth.

Full sunlight bathing the lake's easternmost end.

Here we have a family of Expatriate Canadian Geese who have declared their preference for permanent residency in Maryland.

This pesky Egret was dodging me for quite some time before finally staring me down, probably wondering what the heck I was doing poking around his environs.

It is said that some men spend their time sitting in Church and dream about fishing, while other men spend their time fishing and dream about God. I believe this shot helps me understand the spirit of that saying.

As I made my way home, walking through the trails and eventually emerging to the streets leading to my home, I couldn't help but notice the frenzied pace of cars whirring past me as people scurry about in their daily lives, completely oblivious to all that beauty lying just beneath the veneer of a world they are unconsciously rushing through.

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Turnabout...

2011-04-28T22:43:00.003-04:00

The Yin and Yang, a symbol of the interconnectedness and interdependence of seemingly polar opposites. One can not exist without the other against which it contrasts in order to provide meaning. There is no hot without cold, light without dark, joy without sorrow, and so on. Each side carries the seed of the other.

I was sifting through the old vinyl collection when I stumbled across an old favorite. Such a hypnotic and spellbinding musical sound, coupled with great lyrics worth thinking about as I relax and write. Enjoy!

Wrapped Around Your Finger

by The Police (1983)

Lyrics:

You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charybdis
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Staring at the ring around your finger
I have only come here seeking knowledge
Things they would not teach me of in college
I can see the destiny you sold
Turn into a shining band of gold

I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger

Mephistopheles is not your name
I know what you're up to just the same
I will listen hard to your tuition
You will see it come to it's fruition

I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger

Devil and the deep blue sea behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me
I will turn your face to alabaster
When you find your servant is your master

Oh, you'll be wrapped around my finger
You'll be wrapped around my finger
You'll be wrapped around my finger

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Who Says Opera Can't Be Fun?

2011-04-17T18:02:00.000-04:00

I'm here to dispel a few notions that Opera is not fun. Opera is the mother of all modern day musicals and the grandmother of all music videos. Long before the movie moguls transported this art-form to celluloid film medium, Opera was the only form of musical theater in existence, and was so for several hundred years before movies. The concept of meshing music with visual imagery is not an invention of MTV. So sit back and take a look at the lighter side of an aria, one that isn't afraid to poke a little bit of fun at itself, giving the audience a little wink and a nod.

The following clip is from the Opera "Les contes d'Hoffmann" composed by Jacques Offenbach and first performed in 1881 in Paris. Our protagonist Hoffman falls in love with Olympia, a mechanical doll. He isn't initially aware that it is a mechanical doll, and its creator has convinced our Hoffman to wear a pair of rose-colored glasses to help with the illusion.

The aria that follows is a Olympia's debut to the public and to Hoffman who really falls in love. She sings "Les oiseaux dans la charmille" (The birds in the bushes). As a mechanical doll however, Olympia is in need of an occasional "adjustment and winding" when she runs out of power. I'd say the following interpretation is quite er... um... interesting. Enjoy!

I've got to hand it to the French - they sure know how to have a bit of naughty fun at the Grand Opera.

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Trippy Music - Early 70's Style

2011-03-24T00:18:00.003-04:00

The end of another busy day, and I'm having fun surfing around with headphones on, listening to music to unwind. I'm not in a writing or a reading mood, choosing to satisfy my aural senses instead. Following are a couple of nice mellow and trippy selections from the old vinyl album collection, guaranteed to put you in a better frame of mind.

The World is a Ghetto - War. The long version with a really nice sax solo.

Daydream - Robin Trower.

Enjoy!
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Spanish Guitar

2011-02-19T02:23:00.001-05:00

It's late at night and I've just finished an incredibly long week at work, reading dozens of proposals and edits into the wee hours of each morning. So, how to unwind from all the stress in order to get some sleep? Music is my elixir, easing me into a serene and peaceful state of mind, washing away the stress and chaos of the day. So much to choose from, but tonight I am in the mood for some classical guitar, otherwise known as Spanish Guitar.

The following selection is Recuerdos de la Alhambra, written by F. Tárrega, and performed by Enno Voorhorst. Now for some reason unknown to me, he decided to perform it outdoors in a snow-blanketed garden. While I have no idea why he would want to do that, after listening to the recording I am entirely grateful he did, whatever the reason. Beautiful. Hypnotic. Soothing.

Well now it's time to head off to sleep. Sweet dreams everyone.

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Matters of the Heart

2011-02-13T21:28:00.000-05:00

Another Valentine Day is upon us; a time to ponder love, romance, and matters of the heart. Ah, love! Is there any other emotion that has proven more inspirational to artists, poets, writers, and composers throughout history? I thought I'd pull together a number works that capture love in its many different forms - hardly an exhaustive list but fun for me and hopefully for you. Enjoy!

The first selection evokes a rapturous, emotional, caught-in-the-throes-of-passionate-entrancement, mutually shared kind of love. The song is a barcarole (literally, a boat song) with its rhythmic tempo rocking gently back and forth as though floating upon the water in a Gondola. Lyrics originally in French, with English translation provided.

Belle Nuit O Nuit D’Amour from Offenbach’s Les Contes De Hoffman

French:
Belle nuit, ô nuit d'amour,
Souris à nos ivresses,
Nuit plus douce que le jour,
Ô belle nuit d'amour!
Le temps fuit et sans retour
Emporte nos tendresses,
Loin de cet heureux séjour
Le temps fuit sans retour.
Zéphyrs embrasés,
Versez-nous vos caresses,
Zéphyrs embrasés,
Donnez-nous vos baisers!
vos baisers! vos baisers!

Belle nuit, ô nuit d'amour,
Souris à nos ivresses,
Nuit plus douce que le jour,
Ô belle nuit d'amour!
Ah! Souris à nos ivresses!
Nuit d'amour, ô nuit d'amour!

English Translation:
Lovely night, oh night of love
Smile upon our joys!
Night much sweeter than the day
Oh beautiful night of love!
Time flies irretrievably
Forgetting our tenderness
Far from this happy place
Time flies for ever.
Burning zephyrs,
Fill us with your caresses
Burning zephyrs,
Give us your kisses!
your kisses! your kisses! Ah

Lovely night, oh night of love
Smile upon our joys!
Night much sweeter than the day
Oh beautiful night!
Ah Smile upon our joys!
Night of love, oh night of love!

Of course there are other kinds of love. How about a sad and hopelessly love-struck peasant beginning to believe his Elixir of Love potion he purchased might actually be working his dream woman? Now that's a haunting kind of love.

Una Furtiva Lagrima from Gaetano Donizetti's L'Elisir D'Amore

Italian:
Una furtiva lagrima
Negli occhi suoi spunto.
Quelle festose giovani
Invidiar sembro.
Che piu cercando io vo?
Che piu cercando io vo?
M'ama! Sì, m'ama, lo vedo, lo vedo.

Un solo instante i palpiti
Del suo bel cor sentir!
I miei sospir, confondere
Per poco a' suoi sospir!
I palpiti, i palpiti sentir,
Confondere i miei coi suoi sospir
Cielo, si puo morir!
Di piu non chiedo, non chiedo.
Ah! Cielo, si puo, si puo morir,
Di piu non chiedo, non chiedo.
Ah! Cielo, si puo, si puo morir,
Di piu non chiedo, non chiedo.

Si puo morir, si puo morir d'amor.

English Translation:
A furtive tear
Welled up in her eye...
Those carefree girls
She seemed to envy...
Why should I look any further?
Why should I look any further?
She loves me, yes, she loves me.
I can see it, I can see it.

To feel for just one moment
The beating of her dear heart!
To blend my sighs
For a little with hers!
The heartbeats, the heartbeats of hers I feel,
To mingle my sighs along with hers.
Heavens! I could die;
I wish for nothing more; nothing.
Heavens! I could die;
I wish for nothing more; nothing.

I could die, oh I could die of love.

No references to romantic love would be complete without some mention of Romeo and Juliet. In Bellini's Opera, I Capuletti e i Montecchi (The Capulets and Montagues), Juliet sits in her chambers pining for the forbidden love of Romeo.

O Quante Volte from Bellini's I Capuletti e i Montecchi

Italian Text
Oh! quante volte,
Oh! quante ti chiedo
Al ciel piangendo
Con quale ardor t'attendo,
E inganno il mio desir!
Con quale ardor t'attendo,
E inganno il mio desir!
Raggio del tuo sembiante
Parmi il brillar del giorno:
L'aura che spira intorno
Mi sembra un tuo sospir.
L'aura che spira intorno
Mi sembra un tuo sospir.

English Translation (a lot is lost in the translation - sorry)
Oh! How many times,
Oh! How many times I've asked you,
Crying to the heavens
ardor to which I await,
And deceives my desire!
Ardor with which I await,
And deceives my desire!
The radius of your countenance
Is like the shine of day to me:
The breeze that blows around me
I think of one of your sighs.
The breeze that blows around me
I think of one of your sighs.

Bah! Enough already with the Romantic kind of love. How about a good old-fashioned seductive, saucy, sultry, forbidden kind of love? These following two selections from Bizet's Opera Carmen have a taste of it all: bondage, dominance, flirting, biting, spitting, and of course, submission and surrender to lusty naughtiness. What's NOT to love?

Sometimes you really don't need words to feel the sultriness and oozing sensuality. A Spanish Guitar and a Tango Flamenco will do nicely.

Wishing all of you a love-filled day, whatever meaning and interpretation you may choose for love. Happy Valentines Day.

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3D Television - Still a Fantasy

2010-10-18T21:54:00.003-04:00

I was shopping with my wife the other day at Costco, a warehouse type store with dozens and dozens of TV's on display. She ventured off to look at some jewelry while I wandered up and down the electronics aisles looking at all the flat panel sets arranged in sizes ranging from very, very large to downright ostentatious. At the end of one aisle, I came across a demonstration display for a monstrous-sized 3D screen, complete with sample glasses mounted on a viewing stand so folks could take turns looking at the images in full three dimensional glory. There was this really cool demo program running, so I thought I'd see what all the fuss was about.

They were showing a sequence of free-style ski jumps and the 3D images were simply awesome! I couldn't contain my excitement at how cool it was to see the skiers fly out of the TV screen as they launched into their twists and turns right in front of me. Naturally, I wanted to share this excitement with my wife, so I called her over, asking her to check out this really cool 3D TV I found. And naturally, she walked over to where I was standing to see what I was so excited about. Of course precisely when she came within eyeshot of set, the demo program switched over to incredibly attractive athletic women in bikinis playing beach volleyball...

The good news is, I saved a bunch of money and I won't be at risk for becoming a couch potato. Who needs a stupid 3D set anyway?
...
...
Dammit!

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Optical Illusions

2010-10-08T07:58:00.002-04:00

If I could just convince my mind that those wheels above are not spinning. They are not moving at all - I know that. Stop spinning!!!

The lines are all parallel I'm telling ya! Parallel!

What do you mean this isn't a spiral? Of course it's a spiral. No way it's a collection of concentric circles. Nope, not believing it at all. Why, if you trace the line, you'll see it's ... dammit!

OK, count the black dots you see. Huh! Piece of cake. One... two... three... wait! Hey now! Stop it!

This one just isn't right. I mean, I know it's not spinning. Of course it's not spinning. Nope, not spinning. STOP SPINNING!!!

Gaaa!!! Everything, just stay still! That does it! I'm looking for illusions that won't move.

Finally, something that isn't moving! Now if I could just focus on it, I'd see it's just two loops that are closed. How hard can it be to focus?

Well now, that was fun, wasn't it?

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Opera - My Very Own Prelude

2010-09-28T22:13:00.000-04:00

I grew up with music all around me. I took music lessons as a child and continued into my early teens, but then my brother became ill with Leukemia. My brother's illness became an all-consuming devastating process, draining the family resources and taxing everyone's time as he was shuttled back and forth to the Hospital, countless Doctor appointments, and various Treatment Centers. There was simply no money left after all this for music lessons. Most music schools would have accepted this news and parted ways with student and his family. In my case however, there was a wonderful man who took pity on my family's plight. Rudy was his name. He owned the music school and studio rooms that sat over a small department store downtown, and he made a proposition to my parents they couldn't refuse.

Rudy approached my father, concerned I would have too much idle time on my hands while my parents were tending to my brother's needs. He suggested I spend a lot of this time at his studio whenever they were busy with my brother or if I just needed a place to hang out after school. He would accept no money. All he asked of my father was to let him know the schedule as much as possible. All he asked of me was to study and complete my homework first, and to behave in the studio when done while others were getting lessons. If I wanted, I could practice or play around on any of the pianos as they were available, but there was no obligation to do so. As long as I listened and behaved, the place was completely available for me to lounge around as I pleased. I look back now and realize it is oftentimes difficult to recognize a profound act of someone else while it is in the moment, especially when it comes disguised as a simple gesture of kindness and patience. It took me years to truly comprehend the magnitude of this simple gesture and the effect it would later have on me. Rudy would indeed have an enormous impact in my life, but at the time, neither of us would know exactly how as he diligently planted seeds in me that would remain dormant for quite a while in such a turbulent time in my life.

For several years, first when my brother became ill, and for quite some time after he passed, I would spend countless hours of countless days of countless weeks doing my homework in any number of rooms with the sound of pianos, flutes, violins, violas, cellos, clarinets and other instruments filling the air in quietly muted tones floating through the closed doors of various lesson rooms and from his main studio whenever larger assemblies of bands would practice. Despite the chaos of activity and sounds, it was, for me, an incredibly relaxing and comforting atmosphere. To this day, I still will listen to classical music (often with headphones) playing softly in the background whenever I have a lot of reading or work to do. It is very much like a security blanket for me, giving me comfort and actually helping me focus.

What I remember most however, were those special times I got to spend with him after all the lessons were done for the night and before my father would come to pick me up. As Rudy would wander around closing up the studio, he would check in to see if I needed any help with my homework and tell me I could join him in his office when I was done with homework to wait for my father to pick me up. Rudy was an older gentleman, a widower whose two children were grown, married, had children of their own, living in other states. His passion of course was all things musical. But his special passion, a passion that burned within him was opera.

In those hours after the school closed its doors, Rudy would retire to his office and play any number of records selected from a vast collection of 78's and LP's scattered on the many shelves of his credenza, intermingled with musical scores and books. Occasionally he would listen to a symphony or concerto, but almost always it was opera. Let me be honest. I was not initially taken with it - my initial impressions were tilted to strange. I certainly didn't understand it nor did I get what all the fuss was about. Still the musical melodies were gorgeous at times, even if I had no idea what was being sung. After all my homework was done, I'd wander in his office, plop down into his beat up old sofa, and eventually muster up the courage to ask him what in the heck was all the singing about; what did it all mean?

People who are passionate about a topic are without a doubt the most enthusiastic teachers, always eager to share their knowledge freely. Rudy was no exception. His eyes would light up and twinkle as he wandered over to the phonograph in order to lift up the needle and pause the music while he spoke, setting a scene, weaving together story of people, images, time, explaining the verses, their meaning and translations, and describing all the emotions of the scene. After a wonderfully rich set-up, he would turn back to the phonograph, gently placing the needle on the record, and ask me to close my eyes and simply listen; let my mind imagine and re-create what we discussed as the music played. This new-found knowledge and set-up made for a powerful experience; the seeds of my own passion were being sown, one musical passage at a time.

Week after week, he would tirelessly explain, and we would listen to countless passages of opera. He had this gift of knowing how to paint a scene, giving you all the essential information without spoiling it musically. You craved to listen to the musical passage after he set it up; it was never unnecessary or anti-climactic. As I reflect on him now, I realize he had many, many gifts, all of which he shared freely with others.

In a perfect world, people would recognize a gift and its significance at the very moment it is given. In a perfect world, people would stay close to each and every friend who is generous, kind, thoughtful, and caring; they would not take such acts for granted. I am not a perfect person nor was mine a perfect world. I soon graduated high school, left for college, graduated, moved away, got married, and had children. Basically I was busy getting on with this thing called life. Oh so busy it seemed, at least at the time.

I remember well the day my parents called to tell me they heard news that Rudy had passed.

Rudy, dear Rudy. I had always meant to drop by the studio and say hello. I had always meant to let you know how my studies in college were going. I had always meant to catch up with you and show off my new family. I had always meant to keep track of your retirement and the closing of your school. I had always meant to get your new address and ask you how you were enjoying your retirement. I had always meant to let you know how much I appreciated your selfless act to shield me from my own misery and sadness of dealing with a dying brother smack dab in the middle of my formative teen years. I had always meant to let you know how much you really shaped an integral part of my persona. I had always meant to let you know that I too have become passionate about opera, all because of you. It is with great anguish and shame in my heart that I sit and ponder how I managed to fail so completely to do all these things I had meant to do while you were still alive. Thankfully, my parents are better people than I.

I cannot dwell in misery for long, as it is not in my character. I will resolve however to take a big piece of you with me as I move forward in my own life, sharing my love and passion for opera with others. With the magic of the Internet and links to music, I plan to explore an opera experience with others and to do it Rudy style. I will draw on our many experiences together, with the hope I can manage to inspire and delight others to enjoy and have a passion for this great art form. It is the only way I know to relive those moments, if only in my mind, and to hopefully pass on a small bit of your legacy to others.

I know Verdi was your personal favorite, and have selected the following passage as my much-too-late farewell tribute to you. It is merely a prelude, absent the voices but a powerful way to set the scene. Very much like Alfredo and Giorgio Germont, I shall weep for the loss of someone who lived a life so full of compassion, who was free in spirit and selfless to the very end, all as I reflect on my own shortcomings.

Addio Maestro. Addio Caro Rudy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadow? What Shadow?

2010-02-02T15:12:00.000-05:00

It's Ground Hog day and all the action seems to be centered around Gobbler's Knob and Punxsutawney Phil. Well move over you overweight rodent! There's another Phil around these parts and I figured I should go outdoors and see for myself what all the hoopla is about. Out of the house I leave just before daybreak in search of my shadow. It's 21 degrees; cold enough to make me wish I had a few of your fat layers and a nice fur covering.

So off to the lakefront park I go, in search of my shadow. It's an ashen gray sky, snow covered ground and partially frozen lake. All this leads me to believe it's going to be tough to find my own shadow. Wait a minute, is this is supposed to be a harbinger of an early Spring just around the corner? I wonder who thought that one up?

So far so good. No sign of these Canadian Geese casting any shadows either. Noisy critters - probably arguing among themselves for not heading far enough south this winter.

Well it's obvious that this Cardinal can't see his shadow either. In fact, it's obvious he has been eating quite well too. I'm not sure he would be able to see his shadow even if it was sunny outside. He must have developed bad eating habits from that pesky groundhog.

Uh oh, we may have a technicality here. These geese are sitting and walking on top of the ice formation on the lake. And since the ice is smooth, there is a reflection. Surely this is different from a shadow, right? I'm going with no shadow. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

So there you have it. No shadows seen here. As a result, I wasn't scared enough to scurry on home. Feeling elated to learn that Spring would arrive early based on my extensive shadow searching, I decided to finish out the morning run. Woo hoo! Spring is just around the corner! I'm sure that Punxsutawney Phil will agree with this Phil.

Dammit!

Oh That Moon!

2009-10-04T23:10:00.001-04:00

Much has been written about the moon, in prose, poetry, and song. It has long been the subject of art and photography as well. Its primal beauty has inspired many throughout the ages. As I don't consider myself much of a writer, poet, musical prodigy, or artist, I have chosen tonight to give tribute to the wonderful harvest moon using the works of others. And, more importantly, I get to act like an opera geek in the process.

When I look at the moon, I am often reminded of a beautiful aria from the Opera Rusalka, composed by Antonín Dvořák. Think of it as an ancient version of Disney's The Little Mermaid. In this aria Rusalka, a mermaid of the lake, has fallen in love with a Prince who swims in the lake, and here she sings her "Song to the Moon" asking it to tell the Prince of her love for him. I've linked the Aria and the lyric below, along with the translation into English; much better material than I could ever write.

The native language is Czech. Following below is the original lyric along with the rough English translation:

O Mesiku (Song to the Moon)

Czech/Albanian:

Mesiku na nebi hlubokem
Svetlo tvé daleko vidi,
Po svete bloudis sirokém,
Divas se v pribytky lidi.

Mesicku, postuj chvili
reckni mi, kde je muj mily!
Rekni mu, stribmy mesicku,
me ze jej objima rame,
aby si alespon chvilicku
vzpomenul ve sneni na mne.

Zasvet mu do daleka,
rekni mu, rekni m kdo tu nan ceka!
O mneli duse lidska sni,
at'se tou vzpominkou vzbudi!

Mesicku, nezhasni, nezhasni!

English Translation:

O moon high up in the deep, deep sky,
Your light sees far away regions,
You travel round the wide,
Wide world peering into human dwellings.

O, moon, stand still for a moment,
Tell me, ah, tell me where is my lover!
Tell him please, silvery moon in the sky,
That I am hugging him firmly,
That he should for at least a while
Remember his dreams!

Light up his far away place,
Tell him, ah, tell him who is here waiting!
If he is dreaming about me,
May this remembrance waken him!

O moon, don't disappear, don't disappear!

If you made it this far and have not died of boredom or fallen fast asleep, I thank you for your attention. So get out of the house and gaze up at that gorgeous full harvest moon! Good night all...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Birthday Little Brother

2009-09-28T22:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Anthony,

Another year has passed and here it is your birthday once again. Even though you are not here to celebrate it with us, I just wanted to let you know we were all thinking about you on this special day. Mama is doing fine, her heart is on the mend after some troubles earlier this summer. Pop is well too. The prostate surgery last year appears to have licked his cancer. I am fine and so is my wife. I'm happy to say your two nieces and one nephew are also doing well. Not a bad year for us, all things considered. I just got back from Mama and Pop's, where we had a nice dinner. We were all there except for Michael, who is away at college, but we spoke with him by phone while we were together. Afterwards we had some cake and shared a few memories of you like we do each and every year.

I don't remember much on the day you were born, but I do remember the very first time I saw you the next day. I also remember when Mama brought you to our home later that day, cradled in her arms. My life changed pretty drastically that day. I went from being an only child, the center of attention, to an older brother, and one who now had to help Mama out around the house and share my bedroom with you. I wasn't exactly thrilled, but in time, I came around to enjoy that nice, secure feeling of having someone else sleep in the same room with me.

I sit here wondering how your life would have turned out if you had never contracted Leukemia in the winter of 1971, suffering for a full year and a half before leaving us. Today you would have been 47 years old. I wonder, would you have married? Would you have children? Where would you be living? What would you be doing? Would we be close? Would our families get along? Sometimes it frustrates me because I am only able to imagine and not know for sure. I wonder about these things often, but all I have is a bunch of photographs and memories, all of which are frozen in time and space.

I don't want you getting the idea that we are sad or depressed on this day. You know we were always a happy family when you were around, and we still are by and large. We may sit back and reflect quietly at times on this day, but it's all good. So little brother, wherever you may be, I just wanted to let you know that we haven't forgotten you. Happy Birthday.

Your big brother,

Phil

A Public Service Announcement for Men

2009-09-26T09:28:00.000-04:00

We have a local pub in the neighborhood with good eats and great brews. On the nights when there is no band to entertain, the pub is host to Karaoke, a most amusing practice of taking a perfectly good song, stripping away the vocal track, and handing a microphone to a bar patron to sing it. There's nothing like watching a slightly inebriated volunteer who, after downing a few drinks, grabs hold of the microphone and attempts to belt out a song slightly out of key and give the audience an interesting interpretation of lyrics slurring out of his or her mouth. Notice I said watching. The listening is an entirely different experience. The neighborhood dogs are known to howl for miles around - and I'm not sure you want to know what they are saying.

But I digress (I know, I am easily distracted - sorry).

Gentlemen, listen up! If you should ever find yourself in a pub with Karaoke tempting you to show off your vocal instrument, it is rather important to make sure you heed the following advice. Take a careful look at the song list and make sure you strike off certain songs simply not designed to be sung by our gender. While Joan Jett can rock with the best of guys, and Heart's Annie and Nancy Wilson can kick ass with the uber macho, the reverse rarely works. Not sure why, and that's not the point of this important public service announcement!

There is no particular order here, but if you see ANY of these on your karaoke list, do yourselves a big favor and move on to another song...

Nope, this just won't work for you - trust me!

Now I don't care how toe-tapping and up-beat this tune is, there is no amount of alcohol that will pull you out of the fire once you shout out those initial words, "Let's go girls!" Yikes!

So... you may be thinking (not too sharply after four or five beers) that you could make a go of this one:

Well I'm here to tell you to put the mic down and back away slowly! I don't care if your friends said they would stand next to you as back-up singers, swaying and cooing "Ah, ooh!" in rhythm to the song. Remember, they are as drunk as you are!

I realize the above were some of the more obvious tunes to avoid, but there are others whose titles do not have an easily recognizable "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar" warning flag to you manly men. There are lots of treacherous songs on a Karaoke list that are manly Karaoke disasters waiting to happen. For example:

You really didn't think you could pull off that breathy post-orgasmic sigh like Diana Ross, did you? Sheesh! Besides, as a real man, you'd be snoring, not sighing after an orgasm. Save the hangover for the Jack Daniels you're throwing down for the night.

One last category that you should avoid on your list of bad Karaoke choices falls under the "I'm The MAN" genre:

Er... um... this might work for Right Said Fred, but it just doesn't have the same effect with you prancing around in jeans that fit snug 15 years ago, and sort of still do although at a much, much lower position with butt-crack showing and your belt buckle turned downward pointing in a south-south-east direction. Add to that the sight of those graying back hairs working their way through the holes in your 1986 NCAA tournament tee, and you have the recipe for a stampede to the exit doors. Please don't do it!

Well fellas, due to time constraints, this public service announcement must end here. Gentlemen, if you are still confused about selecting Karaoke songs, please feel free to message me. Always remember, choose wisely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Greetings!

2009-09-17T13:16:00.000-04:00

I don't want everyone (or at least the four or five folks who actually read my blog) thinking I'm really deep or profound all the time. I am easily amused observing trivial little ironies at some of the most mundane things; unfortunately at the expense of random folks forced to deal with me at those moments. Witness the following, an example of me in shallow, self-absorbed mode.

Those who know me know that I rarely set foot in a card store. I have what I thought was an endless supply of blank card stock - you know, the kind with an innocuous design on the outside and completely blank on the inside. I've used these for years to send personal handwritten notes to everyone I know for any and all occasions. Small problem - the endless supply ran out and my son's birthday is coming up next week, so I thought I'd drop in the local card store at lunch to pick up a birthday card. As soon as I arrive I am greeted by a really perky, friendly store associate. Her name is Meg and she asks me what am I looking for. I tell her I am looking for a birthday card. Simple question, simple answer.

Meg then asks me, "What kind of birthday card are you looking for?"

"Huh? Um... how about one that says Happy Birthday?"

"They all say that. Well, actually some don't. What I meant is, who is the card for?"

"Oh. My son."

"Over here. Follow me."

Criminy! We walk past a gauntlet of hundreds upon hundreds of specialty cards designed to be sent by cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, in-laws, out-laws, current lovers, clandestine lovers, and prison cell-mates. Finally we arrive at the section labeled "Son" - right next to the Son-in-law section and just above the Juvenile Son section. I guess it's a rather slow day in the card store, because Meg is hanging around, watching me as I look over the cards. Or maybe she's just worried I'll run off with a bunch of birthday cards and sell them out of the trunk of my car. I hear the "To my Secretary/Mistress on her Birthday" is a real high demand item.

The very first card I grab says, "To Son on his Birthday." I can't help but notice Meg hovering over me while I'm smiling a bit, shaking my head with disbelief at the card.

"Is there something wrong?" she asks.

I can feel the devilish temptation to be snarky coming on. (Don't do it, you'll feel bad about it later. Must resist! Must not say something snarky. Must not... ... ... dammit!) I can't help myself.

"You know Meg, I'm pretty sure my son knows it's his birthday, and that's why we're sending him a card. He's in college you see. Yes, smart kid. And I am totally convinced he knows he's our son. Why, just last week he asked me for money - again. I'd say he's got the son thing down pat. So I'm not sure we need a card that tells him who he is and why we're sending it."

She offers a smile. "Nothing wrong with being crystal clear."

"I suppose so, but tell me, who is this on the cover of the card?"

"Oh, it's just a picture of a young man - fishing."

"But the young man in the picture is not my son. And my real son doesn't fish. Why would I send my son a card that says, 'To Son on his Birthday' with a picture of a strange young man doing something my son doesn't do?" Actually I'm starting to get confused myself.

She offers, "Well, if you don't want that card, we've got plenty more right here. What are you looking for?"

"How about one that says Happy Birthday?"

Meg is no longer smiling, and I feel a bit guilty about my snarkiness. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a smart-ass. Let me look through these and I'll try to find one on my own." I start to go through the assorted cards. Sheesh! What a collection!

Son, we are so proud of you on your Birthday. (What, no one is proud on the other 364 days?)
What is a Son? (Are you kidding me?)
For a Special Son. (I feel sorry for all those regular sons.)

Finally! A card that just says Happy Birthday on the outside. I pick it up and open it to read what is written on the inside.
...
...
Gaaaaa!!!!

"Oh Meg?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have blank cards?"

"On the side wall."

Thankfully, I found a nice collection of blank card stock - you know, the kind with the innocuous design on the outside and completely blank on the inside. As I approach the register to pay, a very nice, perky store manager asks me if I'd like to buy some Halloween cards.

...
...

"Er... um... People send out cards for Halloween???"

I could see Meg out of the corner of my eye bolting for the back of the store. I guess it must have been time for her work break.

~~~~~~~~~

9/11 - In memory of a friend

2009-09-11T09:19:00.000-04:00

I am sitting here today having my morning cup of coffee, much as I can imagine you were doing that fateful morning as you were getting ready for work. On a near-perfect, crisp, cool September morning, I would like to believe you kissed your lovely wife good bye; that you hugged your kids as you left for work, but the reality is, we sometimes fall into a routine and just take that kind of stuff for granted. I wonder, what were you thinking as you left your apartment for that subway ride to your office? Was it the gorgeous, cloudless blue sky, something from work, maybe something you just did with your family or friends the past weekend?

I remember working with you at another financial firm in mid-town back in the early 80's. You were a few years older and were always helpful, showing me the ropes, assisting me as I learned my job. You were finishing up law school and I remember you telling me how you wanted to pursue a career as a finance attorney instead of the one laid out before us in mid-town. You had your dream of working on Wall Street. By 1984, when I moved out of New York to pursue a new career opportunity and chase my own dreams elsewhere, you had already left the firm, chasing your dreams downtown on Wall Street. It would be poetic to say we were the best of friends, but in reality we were merely work acquaintances, sharing an occasional conversation or beer socially outside of work. We didn't keep track of each other over the years; you went your way and I mine.

Seventeen years later, I recall waking up September 11, 2001 to an incredibly crisp, cool, and cloudless day. The weather was beautiful, so I decided to extend my morning run for a while. By the time I returned home from the run, my children had all left for school and my wife for work. It seemed like an ordinary day. I showered and drove directly to meet some bankers at a development site we were looking to finance. I didn't get back to the office until about 9:30, where I was immediately told of a horrible crash. Everyone was huddled in the conference room where the TV was on. I watched in stunned silence as buildings that I so often have been in and out of for the many years I lived and worked in New York were on fire. This was too personal for me - I had been inside those very same corridors countless times! I was appalled and yet I couldn't look away. My gaze was fixed as I saw the unthinkable, watching the tower collapse in what seemed an eternity of time while my heart raced and ached at the same time. Feeling sick, I returned to my desk. All I could think about, all I could focus upon was who I might know and were they all OK. I frantically started calling my friends in New York; the lines were all busy. Busy, busy, busy. Every attempt busy. All day long busy. Nothing but that awful busy signal.

It took me three days to account for everyone I knew or worked with. Everyone made it except for you.

Rest in peace, Stephen.

I need to go hug my wife and and call my kids right now and tell them I love them before I leave for work.

Gaaaa!!!! I am NOT a sock puppet!

2009-07-02T10:59:00.000-04:00

OK, I feel the need to rant just a bit, and since absolutely no one is following this Blog, it's a safe place to scream without being noticed! I've joined BlogSpot in order to follow and comment on other blogs I enjoy reading, some public and some private. All this was set up of course with my older e-mail account. Apparently, Google will not be satisfied until I migrate over to their platform which links to their e-mail account.

I've avoided the migration, thinking it would be confusing to those I follow, but I have had difficulties logging on to my older account. This always happens whenever the folks in our MIS department are inclined to enhance our productivity by tweaking the system, forcing us to spend several days of lost work sorting through the wonderful productivity enhancements that are supposed to save us time. I think I might shoot the next technogeek who starts off saying, "it would be really cool if..." But I digress.

So... Google tells me the migration will be a snap! They must have hired the same folks who work for us. All I wanted was an account to follow others' blogs. Oh no - I need to have a blog of my own! So here I am with my very first entry that no one will see, venting about being forced to decide really important stuff, like what kind of template shall I use to signal my thoughts to the world that is not listening.

But what is the point of all this? Oh yes, to all my friends who have Blogs that I'm following, if you see my account twice as a follower, I hope you don't think I'm a sock puppet setting up all these alternate identities. See, I'm still crazy, but I want to be a classy crazy.

I'm thinking that Google may have made a mistake, letting me blog about random thoughts that swirl around in my mind. I wonder how long before they force me to "migrate" elsewhere...

Thanks for letting me vent. I promise not to bite - that hard at least.