Telegram Goes the Way of the Dodo. . .Only 190,000 years after it was first used. Not a bad run. . .

This article is from Wired.com. Enjoy.

T.

"For more than 150 years, messages of joy, sorrow and success came in signature yellow envelopes hand delivered by a courier. Now the Western Union telegram is officially a thing of the past.

The company formed in April 1856 to exploit the hot technology of the telegraph to send cross-country messages in less than a day. It is now focusing its attention on money transfers and other financial services, and delivered its final telegram on Friday.

"The decision was a hard decision because we're fully aware of our heritage," Victor Chayet, a company spokesman said Wednesday. "But it's the final transition from a communications company to a financial services company."

Several telegraph companies that eventually combined to become Western Union were founded in 1851. Western Union built its first transcontinental telegraph line in 1861.

"At the time it was as incredible and astonishing as the computer when it first came out," said Tom Noel, a history professor at the University of Colorado at Denver. "For people who could barely understand it, here you had the magic of the electric force traveling by wire across the country."

In 1994, Western Union Financial Services was acquired by First Financial Management Corp., which First Data Corp. bought for $7 billion the following year. Last week, First Data said it would spin Western Union off as a separate company.

Telegrams reached their peak popularity in the 1920s and 1930s when it was cheaper to send a telegram than to place a long distance telephone call. People would save money by using the word "stop" instead of periods to end sentences because punctuation was extra while the four character word was free.

Telegrams were used to announce the first flight in 1903 and the start of World War I. During World War II, the sight of a Western Union courier was feared because the War Department, the precursor to the Department of Defense, used the company to notify families of the death of their loved ones serving in the military, Chayet said.

With long distance rates dropping and different technologies for communicating evolving — including the internet — Western Union phased out couriers in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

By last year, only 20,000 telegrams were sent at about $10 a message, mostly from companies using the service for formal notifications, Chayet said.

Last week, the last 10 telegrams included birthday wishes, condolences on the death of a loved one, notification of an emergency and several people trying to be the last to send a telegram.

"Recent generations didn't receive telegrams and didn't know you could send them," Chayet said.

Samuel Morse, inventor of the Morse code, sent the first telegram from Washington to Baltimore on May 26, 1844, to his partner Alfred Vail to usher in the telegram era that displaced the Pony Express. It read "WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT?"

"If he only knew," Chayet said of the myriad choices today, which includes text message on cell phones, the internet and virtually free long-distance calling rates.

"It definitely was an anachronism," Noel said. "It's amazing it survived this long."

So my sister sends me an email. . .

Sounds like the beginning of a bad story, right?
These questions are to be answered in song title form! No cheating!

Obviously I didn't take this too seriously. Sorry Shaina.

Enjoy anyway.

Gender: Fat Man Stomp (Bone Crusher)

Describe yourself: Dazed and Confused (Led Zeppelin)

How some people feel about you: I Love You Honey (But I Hate Your Friends) (Cheap Trick)

Describe your current girlfriend: Song for the Dumped (Ben Folds Five)

Describe your friends: Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum (Bob Dylan)

Describe what you want to be: So You Wanna Be a Rock ‘n Roll Star (The Byrds)

Describe how you live: Day by Day (dc Talk)

Describe how you love: Shallow Be Thy Name (Red Hot Chili Peppers)

Share a few words of wisdom: Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow (Frank Zappa)

One thing you want to say to someone: Take This Job and Shove It (Dead Kennedys)

Here and Back again....

We find ourselves back in Cleveland again.

Amazing how you see all of these entries over the past couple of weeks, and then all of a sudden I’m back in Ohio, and then nobody knows where I am any more….

This is the sad state of affairs of an internet-less individual.

I am back to trekking down to campus for email and internet use, although from now on I may find myself composing these entries on my computer before I come down to school, so I don’t have to find myself spending a lot of time sitting in the car at a parking meter, while other students wander past looking in the windows trying to figure out what I’m doing.

As for my time spent here in Cleveland thus far, I am playing with the Toledo Symphony this week, and three of us violist have been driving out there every day since Tuesday. Thankfully the concerts start this evening, and tomorrow is the last trip we have to make.
Four hours of driving for only a few hours of rehearsal. Although on Tuesday and Wednesday we had double rehearsals, which was way too much Mahler for one day.

Mahler 9 is a cool work, but we all agree that this symphony is probably 45 minutes too long. A symphony that’s 90 minutes long is trying for everyone’s patience, but at least the musicians are engaged with something to do. The poor audience that must sit there and endure the work. My feelings go out to them.

In any event, I had a great vacation at home in Minnesota with my family. I would really like to get home more often, but at least I know I have to do my best to get home in May for my sister’s graduation.

As for now, next week begins classes again. The last leg in a six-year journey is about to begin. Hopefully it ends bearing great fruit.

T.

P.S. The photo is actually the peristyle where I'm playing tonight. It was designed by the same acousticians who designed the new concert hall at CIM which is currently under construction. Cool, huh?

This is So Flippin' Sweet!!

It's been a while since I've mentioned the Black Keys on this blog, but in this absense, my love for the band has continually been growing. Recently, I bought my own copy of their latest, Rubber City, and have been devouring it ever since. My respect for Pat and Dan grows with every album. This latest is definitely their most ambitious departure from a traditional blues-based song form, and they do so brilliantly.

But today, as I wandered through a record shop, what should my eyes happen upon except a black DVD case with the words Black Keys Live emblazoned upon it.

My curiosity is piqued!

A live concert DVD?! Who had any idea?!

Well, apparently their record label knew, because it was them who released the thing. Anyway. I happen upon this by accident, and to my joy, upon popping it into my DVD player, I find the whole concert (in Sydney, Australia in March of 2005) to be shot on low-grade flim, with only about four or five cameras rolling, so it captures a very basic, raw sense of the concert, which is precisely the feel you would get if you were at the concert itself.

The Keys don't rely on any gimmicks on stage to get their point accross, so the music must do all of the work. Aside from being great musical talents in their own rite, the songs these two have written have a longevity and satiability to them that makes it fun to listen to tehm no matter how many times you hear them. And to watch them slave over their craft makes it even more fun as you watch the frenzy build into blistering crescendos of cymbal crashes and guitar distortion.

I havne't even made it all the way through this whole disc yet, but as I sit here watching it I give it my highest recommendation. After seeing them live, I'd have to say this disc captures their energy very well on film, while letting you control the volume and just enjoy the music being made.

T.

Program for Recital on Dec. 22nd, 2005

This is old news, but since I put the other one up, I might a well put this there alongside of it...

Johann Sebastian Bach - Suite no. 1 in G major

Paul Hindemith - Sonata for viola solo op. 25 no. 1

- Intermission -

Igor Stravinsky - Elegie

Bohuslav Martinu - Three Madrigals for violin and viola


Run time: I'm not sure. I talked for a short while before hand as well, and we started late, and it was done in 75 minutes. So not too long.

T.

Movie Review: Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005)
Directed by: Andrew Adamson

There is a sad trend in American cinema this years to replicate the success of other films, turning them sideways and releasing them as a new film, hoping audiences either won’t notice, or won’t mind.

As in another review I just wrote about Johnny Cash’s biopic Walk the Line, where I drew comparisons between the similarities in the films about Cash and Ray Charles (Ray.)
So with the first Chronicle film being made yet again into a film adaptation, it follows (unfortunately) in the footsteps of another mid-twentieth century literary work whose films have recently revolutionized modern cinema.
I speak, of course, of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. The works of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien bear a startling similarity to each other. Both authors knew each other as men living in England during WW II, and both lamented the lack of books that dealt with the sort of fantastic subjects both men enjoyed. It was with this mission in mind both men set out to write their own vision of a mythical world inhabited by dwarves, fawns, centaurs and elves. Years later, the authors had completed their most memorable works; Tolkien the Lord of the Rings and Lewis with the Chronicles of Narnia.

So is it misfortune or logic that would dictate that on the heels of one successful film adaptation, another be gotten underway? The possibilities for comparison are endless and inevitable.

I read one review of this film which referred to this Narnia film as “Lord of the Rings Jr.”
and I feel that I must agree with him. And not always in all the good connotations.

The film begins with a verbatim recollection of how Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy came to be in the home of the Professor, hurrying us through a German bombing of London, a quick train ride to the Northern countryside and then to the mansion of the Professor, where they are told that they are never, ever to disturb the professor. All of this is done to set the stage as quickly as possible so that the children may begin their game of hide-and-seek which leads young Lucy to a spare room where an immense wardrobe invites her as a promising hiding place.
The story is quite well known; how Lucy accidentally finds herself in the magical world of Narnia, befriends the fawn Tumles and how the four siblings’ adventure begins and culminates in the battle for Narnia with the lion Aslan against the White Witch and her evil armies.

Since the story to this novel is perhaps the most well-known of any of the Narnia books, it would seem imperative that tremendous care was taken in telling the story precisely, accurately, and beautifully, just as was Peter Jackson’s concern in making the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
Sadly, unlike Lord of the Rings, it would seem that not nearly enough concern was placed in the quality of production with this Narnia film.
Following in the shadow of this epic trilogy, it becomes terribly important that Narnia can clearly establish its own identity and yet display the same level of convincing detail that creates another world for its viewers.
Even though Jackson’s WETA Workshop was brought on board to do all of the special effects, computer animations and weapons and armor, it seemed to lack the same finish and luster that the Lord of the Rings became known for.
The mythical creatures in this film (centaurs, minotaurs, fawns and cyclops) do not pop off the screen or interact with other elements of the film in the same way that Gollum was so carefully engineered to do.
The scenery and landscape of Narnia fail to impress. One never really gets the sense that Narnia is an expansive land. Scenes are always shot in frames which continually contain trees, rocks or walls which give the audience a feeling of containment, but we are never let outside to marvel at the sheer majesty of Narnia’s beauty. In the back of my mind, I had to wonder how large this spot of land they were all fighting over, and if it would eventually be worth it.

Perhaps my greatest complaint about this film has to do with a fear that was instilled when I first started to see previews for this film. It has been rated PG for the violence and tense situations involving the White Witch, but I was always hesitant about the choices made by the filmmakers to make a film that was unquestionably PG. There is a certain amount of realism and believability which can only come with appealing to a broader audience than a PG film will attract.
The Lord of the Rings films understood this, and made no qualm about creating disgusting creatures, covered in blood and ooze, intense and realistic battle sequences. All of this builds a more heroic and noble struggle for our heroes to engage in.

The Chronicle, on the other hand, feels saddeningly light-weight by comparison. Sort of the Ring’s Diet Coke relative.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy of this film is how I didn’t care at all about the characters in this film. The power and strength of the story depends upon the relationship of the siblings with each other, and of the children’s willingness to help the creatures there because of their love for the lion Aslan.
Of course the metaphorical meaning behind the Chronicles is loudly declared, but the effectiveness of the story depends not only on the characters’ relationship with Aslan, but also with the reader’s. Or in this case, the audience.
Simply put, I didn’t care at all for Aslan. I didn’t care for his struggle (which wasn’t made clear) I never got a sense of his strength, or the significance of his sacrificial death, which is really the true emotional core of the whole book. To gloss over that emotional meaning in the film does the story a horrible disservice from which the film does not recover.
My sisters came out of the film more impressed with the White Witch than with Aslan, much to the chagrin of my father. But I completely understand why! The film spent more time with the Witch, exploring her environment and character than it did with Aslan. We were simply expected to trust the lion, and know that he was the one we should trust, without really giving us any reason.
(On a personal note, casting Liam Neeson as Aslan wasn’t any help either. Not only was I spending time trying to identify the voice artist, but I just don’t care for Liam Neeson that much. He is the same character in every film he has appeared in, particularly during the last year.)

Even the colors used in Narnia, (which are in stark contrast to the real-life colors the director uses to show 1940’s England) are almost cartoonish in their effect.
The reds on Peter and Edmund’s battle tunics are bright and never dirty or dull throughout the whole battle. The grass is a chipper green, and never mattes down, muddies or gets torn up underneath the hooves and footsteps of battle. Armor gleams throughout the entire melee, and hair and makeup remain in perfect condition despite the struggle.
In short, the whole effect of this film is a very child-like naïve point of view of the character’s struggle.

But what is the film’s audience? If its intended for children, then the effect would be complete, and you wouldn’t be getting good reviews from mature audiences anyway. But the film has been getting great reviews, and it is intended for all audiences. And it is because of these reasons why I hold this film and its filmmakers to a higher level of expectation.
If it was felt and agreed that the stories of Narnia were less regarded or any less-loved by millions all over the world, the expectations for a film such as this would be a lot less, but the truth of the matter remains, these films deserve the same level of attention and care as the Lord of the Rings books, and it’s treatment I don’t feel the film received.

Rather, what I believed has happened (and we see it in Peter Jackson’s newest film King Kong as well) is that a sort of formula has been established by the Lord of the Rings in both technical and creative aspects, and (just as Pixar pioneered computer-generated animated films which are now copied and ripped on to the point where there is nothing left but foolish plot lines, foolish characters and poor animation) we now will see the windfall of such a film project as their styles and techniques are duplicated again and again in hopes of recreating the same magic.
But without the same vision for the characters and the story, nothing will be made but second-grade film which has only the faintest whiff of the magic which made its predecessor so great.

I’d give this film three out of five, just for the sheer entertainment value of it. Easily could’ve been five, if only the right people were given a chance at the project.

T.

Music Review : The Legend of Johnny Cash (2005)

This album comes out riding the storm of popularity built up from Walk the Line, Hollywood’s biopic on the life of Johnny Cash. Alongside the soundtrack to the film, this album is a tip-of-the-iceberg retrospective of Johnny Cash’s 40+ year career, putting 21 of his biggest hits together on one disc, spanning from his earliest songs like Cry,Cry,Cry and Folsom Prison Blues, to 2003’s surprisingly meaningful cover of Nine Inch Nail’s Hurt which went on to garner awards and accolades even after Cash’s death.
As much as this album is probably a horrible gloss-over of Cash’s career for true fans of his music, this is honestly a great place for me to start. I knew even before I purchased this album that I wasn’t a huge Cash fan. I certainly appreciate his music, but it didn’t speak to me in a terribly meaningful way. However, as typically happens with the golden screen, the minute a certain music is highlighted and detailed by means of film, my interest piques as I get to see inside the life of the music.
In this case, it was fun watching Walk the Line and seeing the very beginnings of Rock and Roll as Cash toured the nation with the likes of Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis.
To further stimulate my imagination, having T Bone Burnett (the mind behind O Brother, Where Art Thou?)as the musical supervisor on this film didn’t hurt either.
So having my appetite whetted for the uncompromising and unchanging flavor of Johnny Cash, this compendium was just what I was looking for. All of the original recordings from his earliest days back in the 50’s, plus all of his hits produced since 1990’s by Rick Rubin, including Cash’s cover of Soundgarden’s Rusty Cage and Nine Inch Nail’s Hurt.

I give this album high marks for giving a cream of the crop taste of Johnny Cash’s music, fully aware that there is probably a great deal of music from Cash that you don’t get a taste of on this album.

T.

Movie Review: Walk the Line (2005)
Starring: Joaquin Pheonix, Reese Witherspoon
Directed by James Mangold

Coming off last year’s success of Ray, the story of Ray Charles, the movie studios must have thought America primed for another biographic film of another loved musical icon. We venture from R&B to country music this time, and yet the time frame for these two stories remains very similar. In fact both Charles and Cash’s early childhood looked remarkably similar. Both involved early tragedy and growing up in poverty, which shaped both of their later musical inspirations (or so the movies go…)

Perhaps the greatest fault this movie suffered from is that it follows a year behind Ray. Personnally, my patience is a bit more tried for this type of film. Ray had my best of interests and energies, but seeing such an eerily similar story a second time, it grew much harder for me to get excited about what would end up to be a now familiar struggle.

None of this is to say that this wasn’t a beautifully made film. I felt the director, James Mangold, did a fine job at painting the many sides of Johnny Cash. In no way or at any point was he painted as a saint, first battling adulterous tendencies and then a drug addiction. The set production, costumes and art direction were are beautifully indicitive of the time, and did really re-create the 1960’s-era South.

This being said, the film bordered on tedious. I felt it too long, and seemed unwilling to cut corners on any plot detail throughout Cash’s life. As admirable as that may be, it makes for a painful movie-going experience when you round hour two. Also, considering the focus they placed on Cash’s battles with drug addictions, enough of the film was spent in shaky hand-held segments, staggering from one wall to the next, that you began to feel certain head pains. I suppose I would’ve rather more focus be kept on the performing and recording or his interactions with other legendary musicians, but it arguably takes from the human impact of the film.

A note on the acting: After Jamie Foxx’s eerie and exact portrayal of Ray Charles, much buzz was built up around Phoenix’s portrayal of Cash, including murmurings of Oscar-worthy performances. After seeing the entire film however, I just don’t believe that Joaquin Phoenix’s performance in this film is anywhere near as deserving of the accolades that were heaped upon Mr. Foxx for his Ray performance.

But this brings to mind a interesting debate that could be had: is a great acting performance, when based upon a real person, based upon a brilliant interpretation or imitation? Jamie Foxx’s praises seemed less based on great acting as it was a great imitation of the late Ray Charles.

So by that measure, Joaquin Phoenix does not reach Mr. Foxx’s level of accomplishment. However if we measure on the basis of emotional truth, I believe Mr. Phoenix is just as fine an actor as Mr. Foxx. And sadly, I believe this may simply be a sad case of first-place, second-place. Because Mr. Foxx’s movie came out a year ago, Mr. Phoenix’s portrayal will always be compared and found a wane comparison to Mr. Foxx’s version of the late Mr. Charles.

I give Walk the Line two and a half out of five for great film making, but too much length, not enough sunshine in the story, and a too-similar feel to Ray to be considered a classic.

T.

Another Recital Done, Another Step Closer Hopefully...

To those four of you who were at my recital this Monday, thank you.

It went quite well, thank you for asking.

I'm afraid I have another performance to get to right now, so I'm not able to write further. Sadly, the email is also down, which means I've not been able to check my email for the past few days, which is (needless to say) a little frustrating.

Check out an effort to preserve the existene of Christmas:

Save An Elf!

T.

The Program For My Recital:

Ralph Vaughan Williams - Suite for Viola and Piano

Paul Hindemith - Sonata for solo viola op. 25 no. 1

- Intermission -

Darius Milhaud - Sonata no. 1 for viola and piano

Bohuslav Martinu - Three Madrigals for violin and viola

Program time: 65 minutes

Winter's He-re...

Yesterday Cleveland was hammered with about a foot of snow. Now I know this doesn't sound too bad, but around this parts of the world, snow removal isn't quite the science that it is in the severe midwest. It's not really even an area of scientific interest. In fact it seems almost unheard of to someone admit to enjoying winter. It's like its part of our culture here. You have to crave nice weather, beautiful scenery, (of which we get none) and have to detest the cold and snow. (Of which we get plenty.)

So does the whole city wish they lived somewhere else?

Cleveland doesn't seem to have alot going for it these days.

The good news is that the University hired snow ploughs that clear off the roads and parking lots on campus! Those who know Case Western will tell you that this is quite a step forward for us.

We're only two days out now.

My dress rehearsal was yesterday morning. I was really quite tired when it finished, but I had been playing for three and a half hours straight, so I'm not expecting the same result on Monday.
There were a couple of friend's recitals last night, but because of the snow I decided not to go out (the wipers don't work in the winter, and I wonder how well my tires are cut out for snow...this car is from Florida, after all.)

So anyway, that's what's new from the land that is Cleve... snow and a recital. Its hard to be any more observant that this while sitting in the car watching four year olds on their way to their cello lesson stagger past in the the snow. I can't say I'm handling the lack of internet well. I'm going through withdrawal. I just hope nothing important comes up via email that I would hav to have access to right away...

Anyway, it's eleven, and the only things I've accomplished today are to shovel the walk and come down here and check my email. A lot of viola playing involved...

T.

How much strain can a brain handle? Stay tuned and find out...

These next few days will demonstrate beyond any certain doubt that there are limits to what a brain can handle at any one given moment. And the results of exceeding those boundaries.

Okay, maybe it's not that bad.
But I'd like to think it is.

The recital looms before us. A mere five days away now. Have I been getting enough practice time? No. And who's fault is that? Probably mine.

I don't think it's practice time that I need though. I feel as though all of the work that is put forth in trying to learn better technique and become a better musician disappears the minute stress is involved. Things don't work the same way any more. All of the muscles you've trained to do one thing decide it's a brilliant time to take a vacation and stop working. OPr perhaps they declare a strike. In any case, it's marvelously frustrating trying to get good work done when all you seem capable of doing is getting through a piece, let alone sounding good! I'm not interested in just sounding okay! I know I can do better. And yet I seem to be incapable of it.

I suppose I thought I would be getting over this sort of nervous tension by this point in my life. I've been at this for a while. Actually I'm not nervous about the recital. Performing. That'll be fine.

What I'm nervous about is the fact that I can't seem to control my playing right now. It has a mind and will of its own, and its desires are not aligned with mine.


Oh well. This is the way it will be forever. At least until this existence ends. What are you learning or how are you growing unless you encounter resistance, right? If its easy, then you're not changing anything.

In any event, its the same song and dance...I'd better get back to work. I'll write again soon, I'm sure...

T.

Chicks Dig Guys With Excessive Shoulder Hair...

Don't we look just like big teddy bears?! Huh?

Okay, those who know me know that that is not myself pictured here.
It's my brother.

But I do want to call attention to what seems to be a growing amount of body hair that has been slowly but deliberately carpeting my body.

When the whole phenomenon of chest and stomach hair began, I will confess, I was quite proud. It seemed manly. And after only one experiment in shaving it off (it's aerodynamic, baby!) I learned to stop that behavior, because the hair seemed to grow back with a vengence. Feeling spited, it called on its compatriots to take up arms in neighboring folicles, weaving a tight forest of impenetrable man hair, wrapping my torso in a coarse mane.

But that was a while ago. Shouldn't the vengence have stopped by now?

Showering the other day I realized my arms have begun to look a little like hairy hams. (Muscular hams, of course.)
This is not peach fuzz. Oh no. Peach fuzz I can handle. These are the thick black hairs that you find shooting up where you body feels the need to cover itself.

I begin to worry.

A little hair was fine. It was great to shed my clothes Tarzn-style and run around, loins clad in buckskin, knowing the tufts of fine Scandinavian-bred body hair glinted in the sunlight and rippled in the wind like the prairie grass of the serengetti.

But now...

Now it might seem more as though I were some strange half-man half-mutant monkey who's diabolical creators didn't have the decency to finish their monster, leaving him to roam the lands with his soft pink flesh only partially covered in a bewildering assortment of body hair.

I'm not wishing for more. In fact, I wish for less.
I guess I show concern for where this might stop. I am interested in knowing if I will have "chest hair" sprouting from my collar, climbing up my neck like some vine intent on choking the life from me.

Will I succumb to the male wonder of "shoulder hair"? This would undoubtedly make summer-time activities more of a challenge, as most people don't really want to go down the waterslide after the "hairy guy." The bottom of the pool looks like the shower after my sisters have used it.

Still, for now, I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm the only one who stands in front of the mirror and wonders if this hair is normal. Perhaps I'll meet a woman who will attack me with a razor and do away with all unwanted man fur. I'd like to know how we handle the impending reprisal, but I suppose we'll cross that T when we come to it...

For now...my belly button lint and hair are getting tangled, and it's pinching me.

T.

How Can I Possibly Be the Only Person who has constantly confused these two actresses?

Do you know who they are?
One is infinitely more famous these days than the other.

Okay...on the right, is Jennifer Aniston, and on the left is Maura Tierney.

Both were made famous by their respective television shows on NBC during the 90's. Aniston for Friends and Tierney for ER.

Both are similar of age, hair color, facial features, blah blah blah.

So why is when I mistake one for the other, I get ridiculed?!

Someone please tell me that you've never mistaken these two?

Jim Carrey's worked with both of them. Now you can't tell me the coincidences aren't getting more and more difficult to deny!

I think it's a conspiracy.

Maura and Jennifer are cousins, seperated from each other at youth, and were intrinsically drawn back to work in the television and film.

Just think about it... I know you see it my way.

T.

There Will Never Be Enough Time for it All

This week is a marvelous demonstration on how time can slip by, leaving you with a handfull of projects to complete and no time left in which to do it.

I am playing with the Erie Philharmonic this weekend. Our first rehearsal is this evening. I'm carpooling with Trista, which I shall enjoy, because we haven't had much time to sit and talk in a couple of years. Yeah, it's really been that bad.

Stack on top of this my lesson. My recital. This is becoming my preiminent concern, and it's something that I've not had alot of time to worry about. Am I scared? No. Not yet. That probably happens next Thursday. Right now I'm validly concerned.

Somehow it must all be accomplished. But a better question, perhaps, is when? My typically late evenings make for later mornings (which seems logical, no? Why should I get only four hours of sleep just because I got to bed later?) and then you work the rest of the day, chasing after one project and another, never really seeing the fruits of labors. At least right now.

We shall overcome though. That's the good news. I don't know how or when, but it shall be accomplished, and everyone will be really happy. Hurrah!

For now, I have a lunch date and then to work study and then to practice and then to Erie and then to practice and then...

T.

I sure have been seeing alot of Baroque concerts lately... I think it's the company I keep...

Pictured here is Andrew Manze, violinist and director of the English Consort, a pre-eminent Baroque ensemble from - well, England. Duh.
Mr. Manze took over for Trevor Pinncock a few years ago, a name which I recognized and find infintely more entertaining to say.

The concert was really quite good. If there's one thing that I'm learning, its that Baroque music is seldom boring - its usually far more entertaining to listen to an entire concert, because the musicians are more engaging.

The Real Question: Is it that the music is more delightful, or does any baroque ensemble recognize the precarious state that Baroque performance find itself in right now (on the verge of a revival, but still relatively unknown) and do they find the need to engage us through humor and charm because they need to build an audiene base?

Good question.

Thank you. That's why I asked it.

I'm not sure what the answer is, but one thing is true. The recent resurgence of popularity with Baroque music has led many cities to adopt fledgling Baroque ensembles and nurse them to strength, which is what happens anytime any city is prepared to build their artistic culture. It was done with the symphony orchestra around the turn of the twentieth century, and then again in the 70's, and now perhaps it is time for a new wave of musical arts to take hold in major cities.

I for one, have no problem with it at all. As I said, the music is quite delightful, and it does require a great deal of artistry to make this music really live again.

Perhaps one reason there is a sudden interest (more so) and appetite for Baroque traditions is that its not the symphonic traditions which have become quite familiar with American audiences. Concerts don't have the same format, the performers often interact with the audience much more closely than a full symphony. The concert halls themselves are smaller, (because these instruments are not as loud) and there is an air of improvisation about the programming and performance. All of this leads to a light-hearted not-what-you-expect attitude during the concerts, where improvisation is common, and program orders can be dismissed in favor of more appropriate tunes.

Does this mean I'm ready to throw in the towel and pick up my re-strung De Salo? No, it does not. Baroque people are weird. They look like the illegitimate children of librarians and gypsies. And they kind of smell like it too.

In any event, the music does not speak to me quite the same way. However, in the rapidly changing climate of the arts, from a business standpoint, these will be good skills to have in the next forty years or so.

T.

My Belly Button Is the World's Single Largest Producer of Belly Button Lint in America

I wonder if there's a way to market that...

And in case you're wondering, yes, that is my belly to the right. Toned, tightened and firm, I've recently gotten into wearing mid-riffs and belly chains. Just to keep the girls guessing.

I realized this morning as I pulled lint out of my belly button from my bed sheets that my stomach must somehow be spage-aged designed to attract every available fiber within a four foot radius of the black hole that is my "innie."
Every day It is possible to pull out a nice little thumbnail full of lint, (corresponding to the color of shirt I was wearing that day.) but this morning was a new one! I've never recalled culling lint from bed sheets before. Perhaps this is a gift! Perhaps I could market this! Sell this!
Perhaps I should begin to stuff pillows with the lint I find laying around my body. I could embroider them myself, spelling out niceties as "grandma's little angel" and "I love dad" and then fill them with my belly lint.

I guess you all know what you're getting for Christmas.

What strikes me as more of an oddity, however, is the fact that with each gathering of lint, there is always at least one tummy hair in there with the mix. I'm puzzling as to where I still have belly hair to lose to the belly button. Every day! It's like my stomach's balding. Or it's rejecting the hair or something.

In any event, I suppose I should start saving this lint for whatever purposes my business advisors recommends. I'll be sure to let you all in on the IPO, however. It's gonna be big. And all thanks to the all-natural cotton gin on my stomach.

T.

Short List of some of the Greatest Lead Singers Ever

Where would a band be with out the front man? You need to have the audacious, outrageous personality of the lead singer to really sell the band. But of course some did better than others...

David Lee Roth
Freddie Mercury
John Fogherty
Geddy Lee
Anthony Keidis
Chris Cornell
Zach De La Rocha
Robert Plant

Special competition to the first person who can tell me which bands these singers performed with. Ready, set go!!!!

t.

Cleveland Police Finally Receive Non-Lethal Sidearms.

Such have the headlines been in Cleveland for the past few weeks. Apparently this is a big deal since the Cleveland police really don't have anything better to do than drive around in their squad cars shooting up black ghettos. But the minute they actually hit some poor urban child of the street who is making his living by selling drugs, the whole world arupts. Never mind the fact that they could actually have been acting in self-defense.

I dunno though... I was leaving a baseball game once and drove by a police car that had a man in cuffs, and another woman was screaming at the police about brutality, about how she had witnessed it first hand and would report them. What caught my attention is that the man was a black man, possibly homeless, and the woman was a middle-aged white woman standing next to her Volkswagon. not exactly the first person who would be stepping out of line to help out the street corner bum, you know?

Anyway, I digress.

This whole taser gun fascination was prompted by the kiling of some kid a few months ago that was shot when police thought he had a gun - and it turned out he didn't.
Public outrage. A great outcrying. Blood and tears flood the streets. The cry for the heads of those responsible.

How about tasers? Every other police force in a large city has them? Oh yeah....

So what's the first incident to occur where the tasers are used? Ta-da! A Halloween shake-down involving a naked man running up to little trick-or-treaters!

Ah, Cleveland.

The police stopped him on Fairmount (those of you who know Cleveland know where that is in proximity to where I live) and had to shock the bejabbers out of him so he would stop harassing six-year olds on their way to their next cavity. He went to the hospital for the night (apparently there's some law against leaving a naked man unconcious in the street. Gives a bad image.) and then was released.

Here's the better part:

The next day police respond to a 911 call and arrive at a home to find the same guy trying to kick down a door to his own house. They taser the guy again and haul him off.

Now, not that this isn't amusing, but is this really the most interesting tale of taser-dom that this city has to offer? It does make the gun shootings sound a little bit more credible, don't you think? At least then people outside of the city took us seriously.

"Don't mess with Cleveland man, they'll gun you down!"

Now we're lucky if we get a naked man parading up and down the street to mess with...

T.