Today at church Chris was there to help me sing tenor, and that made a world of difference. I really don't like being the only one singing tenor during the Sunday morning Liturgy, as I'm not very good at it. It's mostly just middle C for the first 30 minutes, and that really wears out my voice. Middle C, for me, sits right there where my voice breaks, and I'm constantly having to 'split' my voice back and forth between the lower and upper registers. The problem really isn't my range, because I'm just fine with hitting those high notes for the first minute or two. After that however, it gets really tiring and I have to take a break for a couple of measures or my voice will just flat out quit. I wonder if there's an exercise I can do to give myself more endurance? I think there might be more to it than that however, because I don't really remember having this hard of a time with range and endurance about a year ago, around last Pascha, and before.
It might have to do with the fact that I haven't exactly been my happy self for the past 10 or so months, and I don't think it's just affected my voice. My change in behavior is probably apparent to people who had gotten to know me when they (and I) thought I was happy. I know that I'm not as confident and reliable and optimistic as I used to be. Take Dax, for instance. All before and leading up to around my last birthday, I felt like he and I were actually getting to know each other and were on our way to becoming friends. I had achieved a rudimentary comfort zone with him, and he even talked about making me the choir director some day. I even asked him to be my Godfather based on this blossoming friendship between us that I perceived. Dax used to seem as though he actually liked me, and maybe even respected me a little.
Now things are different. I've had the feeling for a while now that Dax doesn't really like me anymore. He doesn't feel like the potential friend that he used to; more like someone who is just irritated with me as a general rule. I think I've let Dax down because I've turned out not to be the person he thought I was a year ago; someone who was more confident, more outgoing, and more of a positive social creature. Someone who would eventually take over the job of choir director so that he could assume the duties of sub-deacon. Now I feel like he sees me as this big let down; an irresponsible 'dud' with no backbone who collapses under pressure when the going gets rough - someone he thought he could rely on but, as it turns out, he can't.
After coffee hour today we had a choir meeting and Dax got onto all of us for skipping rehearsals and services, and he made it clear to us that being in the choir was a privilege. I got the feeling that he was using this time to talk openly to us so that he could communicate all of this to me, personally. Maybe that's kind of far fetched, but I haven't been to a lot of services lately, and Dax has been particularly blunt to me the last few times I've asked him questions or interacted with him. I get the impression from Dax that everything that is wrong with the choir is my fault - that I'm the only one who ever messes up, and that everything will just go to hell in a hand basket if I'm not there. I'm probably imagining most of that, but it seems as if he is disappointed in me, not only for missing services that I could have attended, but also for the ones that I just can't attend because of work. When I told him that I couldn't find anyone to work for me on one of those nights during the Nativity fast when the male choir was performing, he said that if I couldn't make it then we'd just have to cancel the whole thing, because nobody else could sing alto or read treble clef. Was that really the case? Was there no way around the situation at all? Does it all really hinge on me, or is this his way of expressing his disappointment in me because I didn't live up to his expectations? Probably not, but it feels that way sometimes.
Anywho, after Dax had finished chastising all of us, Fr. Justin told us that he appreciated the sacrifice that we were all making by actually being in the choir. I felt like he was recognizing the fact that being in the choir isn't just a walk in the park, and that it's hard trying to hold up your own soul while feeling responsible for holding up the souls of others too. At least, that's what I got out of it, and his saying so made me feel a lot better - so much so that after the meeting I somehow wound up as one of the new readers. Am I merely befuddled, or overtly bamboozled?
Wow... sometimes I marvel at my level of involvement with the church; what with my being a member of two separate choirs, and now a reader, too. Why am I putting myself through all of this, when it would be so much easier to just show up to services, stand anonymously and safely with the congregation, take communion, make sure my own soul is ok, and then just go home? Why am I putting myself through all of this worry and responsibility for the well being of others? How did I wind up here, this deeply entrenched in the inner workings? This level of social involvement goes against every facet of my personality... I never would have imagined this for myself. But then again, a little over two years ago I never would have imagined that I would be baptized right now and even going to church to begin with. I guess God has a plan for me, and I should be thankful. And I am thankful... it's just that this is way hard to do and sometimes it, like, hurts and stuff.
But then again, I'm probably just being a whining, bitchy little titty baby.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
My Name Day
Tomorrow is my name day, also known as a feast day. It is the specific day of the year associated with my Orthodox Christian namesake, Holy New Martyr Elias Ardounis, also known as St. Elias Ardounis the Neomartyr. I refer to him as St. Elias the New.
Monday, January 31, 2011 (Feast Day)
Holy New Martyr Elias Ardounis
St. Elias Ardounis the Neomartyr
Saint Elias the New was a barber in the town of Kalamata in the Peloponnesos region of Greece and was much respected for his shrewd good sense by the Turkish officials of the place. One day, when the latter had come to see him, Elias urged them to do all they could to reduce the burden of tax on Christians, or many would be lead to deny their Christian faith and become Muslim merely so that they would be relieved financially. The discussion grew heated and Elias was carried away to the extent of declaring, almost jokingly, that he himself was inclined to deny his faith in return for a fez. One of the Turks took him at his word and handed him the headgear, whereupon poor, benighted Elias adhered to Islam in the presence of the judge and to the sorrow of the local Christians.
Not long after, he was moved to repentance and traveled to Mount Athos. There he found a spiritual father and confessed with many tears his apostasy and once again acknowledged Orthodoxy; he was also chrismated and received the Body and Blood of Christ. Elias eventually became a monk on Mount Athos, where he lead a virtuous life for eight years. However, as he could not attain peace of conscience, he received the blessing of his spiritual father to return to Kalamata to confess his Christianity, which he knew would almost certainly lead to his martyrdom.
Elias returned to Kalamata and made his presence known by walking around the bazaars of the Turks. When he was called Moustafa and questioned about why he was gone for so long, he responded he was no longer Moustafa (the Muslim name given to him at the time of his unwilling conversion) but an Orthodox Christian. He was then presented before the judge and confessed Christ in like manner. After two sessions of questioning, he was condemned to be burned to death in a slow fire. When he was thrown into flames, he was spared a burning death and suffocated almost immediately, leaving his hair, beard and monastic robes miraculously untouched by the flames. This occurred on January 31, 1686. That night a heavenly light appeared over his body, and for which it was said by the Christians that since the earthly fire could not burn him that God sent his heavenly light to do the job.
The local Christians buried his body with great devotion, and a church was later built over his tomb. His skull is in the Holy Monastery of Voulkanou in Messinia.
Monday, January 31, 2011 (Feast Day)
Holy New Martyr Elias Ardounis
St. Elias Ardounis the Neomartyr
Saint Elias the New was a barber in the town of Kalamata in the Peloponnesos region of Greece and was much respected for his shrewd good sense by the Turkish officials of the place. One day, when the latter had come to see him, Elias urged them to do all they could to reduce the burden of tax on Christians, or many would be lead to deny their Christian faith and become Muslim merely so that they would be relieved financially. The discussion grew heated and Elias was carried away to the extent of declaring, almost jokingly, that he himself was inclined to deny his faith in return for a fez. One of the Turks took him at his word and handed him the headgear, whereupon poor, benighted Elias adhered to Islam in the presence of the judge and to the sorrow of the local Christians.
Not long after, he was moved to repentance and traveled to Mount Athos. There he found a spiritual father and confessed with many tears his apostasy and once again acknowledged Orthodoxy; he was also chrismated and received the Body and Blood of Christ. Elias eventually became a monk on Mount Athos, where he lead a virtuous life for eight years. However, as he could not attain peace of conscience, he received the blessing of his spiritual father to return to Kalamata to confess his Christianity, which he knew would almost certainly lead to his martyrdom.
Elias returned to Kalamata and made his presence known by walking around the bazaars of the Turks. When he was called Moustafa and questioned about why he was gone for so long, he responded he was no longer Moustafa (the Muslim name given to him at the time of his unwilling conversion) but an Orthodox Christian. He was then presented before the judge and confessed Christ in like manner. After two sessions of questioning, he was condemned to be burned to death in a slow fire. When he was thrown into flames, he was spared a burning death and suffocated almost immediately, leaving his hair, beard and monastic robes miraculously untouched by the flames. This occurred on January 31, 1686. That night a heavenly light appeared over his body, and for which it was said by the Christians that since the earthly fire could not burn him that God sent his heavenly light to do the job.
The local Christians buried his body with great devotion, and a church was later built over his tomb. His skull is in the Holy Monastery of Voulkanou in Messinia.
Sundries. No, not Sun Dries. Sundries, plural for sundry. Argh.
driz
–plural noun
sundry things or items, esp. small, miscellaneous items of little value. Compare notion ( def. 6 ) .
Origin:
1805–15; n. pl. use of sundry
1805–15; n. pl. use of sundry
Saturday, January 29, 2011
An every day journal entry
I've been keeping an online journal for a while. Often I'll be at work or at church or somewhere and experience something I want to write about, and if I had my laptop in front of me right then and there and the spare time, I'd right write then and there about what I'm thinking (I know I screwed up tenses and swapped homophones, and my right and left arrow keys aren't working). Usually I'll forget what I wanted to write about though...
...so anywho, here's just an every day journal entry. Today nothing really that interesting happened. I did discover that my right and left arrow keys aren't working on my keyboard (which is a real pain in the ass, especially when I'm editing blogs in progress) but that's about the most interesting thing. Other than that, I enjoyed a very nice day with both doors open and took the opportunity to air out my room and clean it again, once more arresting the onset of entropy. Then I walked to the store for sundries and came back home. It was an enjoyable walk, with Coldplay running through my head through most of it. A couple of times people honked at me. Sometimes they yell things as they pass like, "Hey man, what's up!" or "Yo whaddup chief!" and "Hey, wassssssup bro!". I work at 7-Eleven, you see, and because I do so much walking in public I have to deal with an odd sort of local fame. Usually I don't recognize these people who recognize me as they zoom by, but I guess that comes with the territory. I imagine it's kind of like being a local newscaster. People know me, but I don't know them.
Later I went to church for vigil but left after the vespers portion because my mood plummeted. That's been happening a lot lately; I'll be feeling ok and then I'll be feeling like crap. No warning, just a sudden drop in mood (sometimes it will go the other way, from crap to ok, but not as often). Heidi usually texts me when this happens, which is inexplicably awesome. I was about to say just now that I am so lucky to have Heidi in my life, but then I realized that luck has nothing to do with it. Thanks, God.
After I left vigil I walked to Wal Mart for more sundries. I don't really know what a sundry is, except that it's a good no-nonsense word to describe what-nots and hoo-jiggers. So, more sundries in hand, I walked back home and downloaded Harry Potter - The Sorcerers Stone and watched it. I haven't seen that movie in about a year and a half, since I first read the book. Two things I've discovered in the past two years - Harry Potter, and The Orthodox Church. Maybe I'll discover two more awesome things during the next two years.
Now it's just about time for bed. Tomorrow I get to take communion again. I need God's medicine right now. Lord, please make my heart a worthy vessel to contain Thy Holy Spirit.
Amen.
...so anywho, here's just an every day journal entry. Today nothing really that interesting happened. I did discover that my right and left arrow keys aren't working on my keyboard (which is a real pain in the ass, especially when I'm editing blogs in progress) but that's about the most interesting thing. Other than that, I enjoyed a very nice day with both doors open and took the opportunity to air out my room and clean it again, once more arresting the onset of entropy. Then I walked to the store for sundries and came back home. It was an enjoyable walk, with Coldplay running through my head through most of it. A couple of times people honked at me. Sometimes they yell things as they pass like, "Hey man, what's up!" or "Yo whaddup chief!" and "Hey, wassssssup bro!". I work at 7-Eleven, you see, and because I do so much walking in public I have to deal with an odd sort of local fame. Usually I don't recognize these people who recognize me as they zoom by, but I guess that comes with the territory. I imagine it's kind of like being a local newscaster. People know me, but I don't know them.
Later I went to church for vigil but left after the vespers portion because my mood plummeted. That's been happening a lot lately; I'll be feeling ok and then I'll be feeling like crap. No warning, just a sudden drop in mood (sometimes it will go the other way, from crap to ok, but not as often). Heidi usually texts me when this happens, which is inexplicably awesome. I was about to say just now that I am so lucky to have Heidi in my life, but then I realized that luck has nothing to do with it. Thanks, God.
After I left vigil I walked to Wal Mart for more sundries. I don't really know what a sundry is, except that it's a good no-nonsense word to describe what-nots and hoo-jiggers. So, more sundries in hand, I walked back home and downloaded Harry Potter - The Sorcerers Stone and watched it. I haven't seen that movie in about a year and a half, since I first read the book. Two things I've discovered in the past two years - Harry Potter, and The Orthodox Church. Maybe I'll discover two more awesome things during the next two years.
Now it's just about time for bed. Tomorrow I get to take communion again. I need God's medicine right now. Lord, please make my heart a worthy vessel to contain Thy Holy Spirit.
Amen.
Friday, January 28, 2011
This day
I felt like ugly crap today when I woke up. It was about 6:00 and I had only been asleep for about 5 hours and I couldn't sleep anymore. Lately I've been waking up early and haven't been able to get back to sleep. I took two benadryls and went back to sleep until 1:30 and woke up feeling groggy and in that half-place where I couldn't sleep anymore but didn't want to be awake. I had one of those big single beers that I brought home last night that I didn't drink, so I drank it right off the bat since it's my day off. I didn't feel any better and my stomach hurt. I wanted to sleep some more but still couldn't.
I stayed awake and Matt and I got into an argument of course, which is the status quo around here so that's no surprise. I forgot what it was about... no, it was about something I was watching online. He was in the living room listening to it, and after it was over, we started talking about it and it turned into an argument. I don't like that, always arguing, but it seems unavoidable that my brother and I always argue when we talk. It doesn't always start out as an argument, but it usually almost always evolves into one. I've come to the conclusion that it's not anybody's fault and that we just don't understand each other. We are like yin and yang. Sometimes I wonder if Matt and I were mortal enemies in a previous life, and are now bound together in this life by karma, destined to always experience our differences so that we can eventually work them out. Pride is one big pain in the ass.
Tonight Matt and I went to Mr. Chopstix. I had shrimp tempura with crab rangoons, and Matt had some kind of beef walnut thing. We started off with some saki and toasted every time we drank. We traded toasts that went like this:
Matt - May every answer always lead to another question :::clink:::
Me - May Ryan be successful with his career after he moves to Waco :::clink:::
Matt - May all gorgeous moments be written down and remembered :::clink:::
Me - May Fr. Justin's daughters grow up happy and without strife :::clink:::
Matt - May we always be who we are no matter where we are :::clink:::
Me - May we not have to worry about typing our toasts into the notepad :::clink:::
(I didn't type Matt's next toast and now I don't remember what it was)
Me - May commercial spaceflight be affordable before we die :::clink:::)
Matt - May we live art as opposed to just doing it :::clink:::
Me - May we always stay cool (personally and comfortably) :::clink:::
And then my paltry little phone ran out of notepad memory. We had a few more toasts that I swore to remember but, of course, I don't.
After that we finished dinner and walked home. We had many other adventures and arguments, ranging from the forced perspective of sidewalk paintings and how they applied to the third Indiana Jones movie, to colored lighting and how it casts shadows in complimentary colors, to the Orion Nebula and BronYrAur. We even explored the front yard of an abandoned house and wondered what was inside. I wanted to go in and look, but that would have been breaking and entering. We went home instead.
We of course had it out again, off and on, many more times. It finally comes down to this moment, and I don't want to think about it anymore. So now I end this night listening to music and waiting to fall asleep.
--------------------------sleep happened--------------------------
And now it's the next day, and it seems like a good day. It's warm and I took a walk to the store to grab some sundries earlier. Something about today - maybe it's the smell of the air outside, or the music in the background of the flash game I have paused, or the temperature and weather - something makes today seem like a nostalgic kind of dejavu of memories, from the old house in East Texas to bits and pieces of various times in Austin to something that I kind put my finger on. A kind of weird positive.
Anyway.
I stayed awake and Matt and I got into an argument of course, which is the status quo around here so that's no surprise. I forgot what it was about... no, it was about something I was watching online. He was in the living room listening to it, and after it was over, we started talking about it and it turned into an argument. I don't like that, always arguing, but it seems unavoidable that my brother and I always argue when we talk. It doesn't always start out as an argument, but it usually almost always evolves into one. I've come to the conclusion that it's not anybody's fault and that we just don't understand each other. We are like yin and yang. Sometimes I wonder if Matt and I were mortal enemies in a previous life, and are now bound together in this life by karma, destined to always experience our differences so that we can eventually work them out. Pride is one big pain in the ass.
Tonight Matt and I went to Mr. Chopstix. I had shrimp tempura with crab rangoons, and Matt had some kind of beef walnut thing. We started off with some saki and toasted every time we drank. We traded toasts that went like this:
Matt - May every answer always lead to another question :::clink:::
Me - May Ryan be successful with his career after he moves to Waco :::clink:::
Matt - May all gorgeous moments be written down and remembered :::clink:::
Me - May Fr. Justin's daughters grow up happy and without strife :::clink:::
Matt - May we always be who we are no matter where we are :::clink:::
Me - May we not have to worry about typing our toasts into the notepad :::clink:::
(I didn't type Matt's next toast and now I don't remember what it was)
Me - May commercial spaceflight be affordable before we die :::clink:::)
Matt - May we live art as opposed to just doing it :::clink:::
Me - May we always stay cool (personally and comfortably) :::clink:::
And then my paltry little phone ran out of notepad memory. We had a few more toasts that I swore to remember but, of course, I don't.
After that we finished dinner and walked home. We had many other adventures and arguments, ranging from the forced perspective of sidewalk paintings and how they applied to the third Indiana Jones movie, to colored lighting and how it casts shadows in complimentary colors, to the Orion Nebula and BronYrAur. We even explored the front yard of an abandoned house and wondered what was inside. I wanted to go in and look, but that would have been breaking and entering. We went home instead.
We of course had it out again, off and on, many more times. It finally comes down to this moment, and I don't want to think about it anymore. So now I end this night listening to music and waiting to fall asleep.
--------------------------sleep happened--------------------------
And now it's the next day, and it seems like a good day. It's warm and I took a walk to the store to grab some sundries earlier. Something about today - maybe it's the smell of the air outside, or the music in the background of the flash game I have paused, or the temperature and weather - something makes today seem like a nostalgic kind of dejavu of memories, from the old house in East Texas to bits and pieces of various times in Austin to something that I kind put my finger on. A kind of weird positive.
Anyway.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Happy - part 1
Yesterday was wonderful. I felt inexplicably good all day, for no real reason. Giddy almost, kind of like how I used to feel before I ever used any substances to get high, when natural good moods were a common part of my life. Today was the opposite. I was depressed all day. Maybe what brought it on was the anxiety pill I took this morning when I woke up at 7:00 and couldn't sleep. I was groggy all day and it turned into a black pit of depression. I'm coming out of it a little now. Prayers now, and then sleep, I think, and tomorrow is a new day.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Plans within plans
I went to confession Saturday night after vigil for the first time since November 5th. During those three months my spiritual life really suffered, as it's very easy to let inertia take over when I start to mess up in my spiritual life. The enemy is always looking for a way to grab hold and do some damage, and that he did (with my cooperation, of course... I'm not trying to escape responsibility for my own actions). All of the trouble started right at the beginning of the Nativity Fast, when I was still feeling good about church. I had told Fr. Justin on a Wednesday evening that I would help out with the liturgy the next morning, but I overslept and missed it. As a result, I felt rotten for letting Fr. Justin down, and it just got worse and worse as I began to miss regular services. It was very easy for the enemy to take over after that, and when I stopped fighting I instead began punishing myself undeservedly by skipping services and putting off confession. In this way I could do maximum damage to myself for the inexcusable crime of oversleeping and breaking my promise to Fr. Justin.
At some point during my self-imposed excommunication, I began to discover that there is a direct correlation between feelings of anger, jealousy, self pity and self righteousness, and the nosedive my spiritual life was taking. When I got back from Alaska, I was terrified of a certain situation I knew that I had to face (which I won't go into), but I was also excited about going back to church and being in communion again. As it turned out, things weren't as awful as I had feared, and I was even able to deal with complications relating to this certain situation in a more or less positive manner. However, my ability to deal with that situation deteriorated the longer I was out of communion until I found myself in a state of emotional wreckage.
Now I'm back in communion and I'm hoping that things will improve again with my ability to deal with this situation. Once again I've subjected myself to a kind of self-imposed exile - not from communion, but from that certain situation. I'm probably punishing myself now too, because I don't want to do what I'm doing and it's going to hurt. However, I'm hoping that by removing myself from the situation I'm also removing my own potential to cause pain in others. I see a possible time in the future when I might just remove myself completely from society and join a monastery. The more I think about that, the more I wonder if that's what God has planned for me. I've always been extremely shy, and it's difficult for me to form relationships with people and maintain them. I'm also not a very good communicator, I think, because I haven't had a lot of practice, and misunderstandings are frequent with people who are close to me. The simple, ordered life of a monastic would probably be the perfect place for a person with my type of personality. Simplicity in life is something I've always craved, as I've always only just been able to deal with the burdens and complications of living in modern society without completely collapsing.
I believe that God puts us in situations, even terrible, painful, hurtful ones, to lead us eventually to where we are supposed to be. I never would have become an Orthodox Christian if it weren't for my attraction to the person who led me there. There was no other way to drag me into a church than to be led there by my selfish desire for the love of someone else, and God knew this. I never would have even met the person who brought me to Orthodoxy though if I hadn't gone through all of the misery I've experienced with addiction, because my decision to apply for the job where I met her was one of desperation, a desperation which arose from being unmotivated, unemployed and depressed because of my problems with addiction. I could go back even further, linking together all of my bad mistakes and painful experiences (and good ones) that comprised the crucial events which described what I thought had been a terrible life up until the winter of 2008, which ultimately led me to the church.
So now I have my current situation to deal with, another painful one. However, based on the evidence of my past and where it led me, I have to believe that this too is part of God's plan to take me further into the future and closer to His will. Maybe it will lead me to a monastic life. Maybe I'll learn enough from it so that I'll actually be married some day and capable of being a good husband and father and priest for my family. I don't know, but in the meantime I can hold on to my faith and to the belief that everything is going to be alright.
At some point during my self-imposed excommunication, I began to discover that there is a direct correlation between feelings of anger, jealousy, self pity and self righteousness, and the nosedive my spiritual life was taking. When I got back from Alaska, I was terrified of a certain situation I knew that I had to face (which I won't go into), but I was also excited about going back to church and being in communion again. As it turned out, things weren't as awful as I had feared, and I was even able to deal with complications relating to this certain situation in a more or less positive manner. However, my ability to deal with that situation deteriorated the longer I was out of communion until I found myself in a state of emotional wreckage.
Now I'm back in communion and I'm hoping that things will improve again with my ability to deal with this situation. Once again I've subjected myself to a kind of self-imposed exile - not from communion, but from that certain situation. I'm probably punishing myself now too, because I don't want to do what I'm doing and it's going to hurt. However, I'm hoping that by removing myself from the situation I'm also removing my own potential to cause pain in others. I see a possible time in the future when I might just remove myself completely from society and join a monastery. The more I think about that, the more I wonder if that's what God has planned for me. I've always been extremely shy, and it's difficult for me to form relationships with people and maintain them. I'm also not a very good communicator, I think, because I haven't had a lot of practice, and misunderstandings are frequent with people who are close to me. The simple, ordered life of a monastic would probably be the perfect place for a person with my type of personality. Simplicity in life is something I've always craved, as I've always only just been able to deal with the burdens and complications of living in modern society without completely collapsing.
I believe that God puts us in situations, even terrible, painful, hurtful ones, to lead us eventually to where we are supposed to be. I never would have become an Orthodox Christian if it weren't for my attraction to the person who led me there. There was no other way to drag me into a church than to be led there by my selfish desire for the love of someone else, and God knew this. I never would have even met the person who brought me to Orthodoxy though if I hadn't gone through all of the misery I've experienced with addiction, because my decision to apply for the job where I met her was one of desperation, a desperation which arose from being unmotivated, unemployed and depressed because of my problems with addiction. I could go back even further, linking together all of my bad mistakes and painful experiences (and good ones) that comprised the crucial events which described what I thought had been a terrible life up until the winter of 2008, which ultimately led me to the church.
So now I have my current situation to deal with, another painful one. However, based on the evidence of my past and where it led me, I have to believe that this too is part of God's plan to take me further into the future and closer to His will. Maybe it will lead me to a monastic life. Maybe I'll learn enough from it so that I'll actually be married some day and capable of being a good husband and father and priest for my family. I don't know, but in the meantime I can hold on to my faith and to the belief that everything is going to be alright.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Sunrise Overture
My Uncle Joe died of colon cancer in 1995, and I never really knew him that well. The little I do know is that he was a musician, composer, performer, jazz instructor, and my dad's brother. I didn't see him very often, and mostly I remember him from family gatherings at Christmas. However, even though I hardly knew him, there is one thing about Uncle Joe that will always stand out in my early memories because of the profound affect it had on me. Back in 1972, Kenny Rogers and the First Edition released an album called 'The Ballad of Calico'. The album opens with my Uncle Joe playing a clarinet solo on a song called 'Sunrise Overture'. It is a beautiful orchestral piece, describing musically the slow majestic progression of a desert sunrise.
'The Ballad of Calico' isn't a very well known record, and it differs from the more well known and popular country style that most people identify with Kenny Rogers... it's more of a mixture of rock, blues, country, folk, classical and gospel. The entire album tells the story of Calico, a boom town and silver mine which existed in California during the late 1800's, and all of the songs are inspired by real people, places and events. When I was just a little kid back in the late '70's, I used to lose hours listening to that album over and over.
Here is 'Sunrise Overture', with my Uncle Joe playing the clarinet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6-2Vy0KQX0
Some information about my uncle, Joe Davis.
http://academics.nsuok.edu/jazzlab/About/History.aspx
'The Ballad of Calico' isn't a very well known record, and it differs from the more well known and popular country style that most people identify with Kenny Rogers... it's more of a mixture of rock, blues, country, folk, classical and gospel. The entire album tells the story of Calico, a boom town and silver mine which existed in California during the late 1800's, and all of the songs are inspired by real people, places and events. When I was just a little kid back in the late '70's, I used to lose hours listening to that album over and over.
Here is 'Sunrise Overture', with my Uncle Joe playing the clarinet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6-2Vy0KQX0
Some information about my uncle, Joe Davis.
http://academics.nsuok.edu/jazzlab/About/History.aspx
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Weekend adventure
This weekend I went to Shreveport to do a fur sale. We did really well, but it came with a price... my pinkie toe. Friday night I was stumbling around in the hotel room, trying to find the bathroom, and wouldn't you know it, I banged the crap out of it in the dark and broke it all to hell.
I didn't know it was broken until Saturday morning, when I woke up and it was all swollen and felt like it was on fire. I couldn't put any weight on that foot at all. It was the worst physical pain I can remember feeling in a long time... maybe ever. It hurt right up to my hip. I just couldn't believe that much pain could come from such a teeny little toe. It just hurt and hurt and hurt all day long. I really started to worry because I have to walk to get everywhere, and what if I couldn't walk to work? I'd be f'd. At least we had a good sale, I told myself.
Today it doesn't hurt nearly as bad. That is, it doesn't just hurt nonstop like it did yesterday. I can hobble around, and Ed gave me his crutches and I took a couple of test spins around the block to see how able I was. I figure I can walk to work with the crutches. The bitch is going to be standing up all day at the cash register, and walking around doing stuff that has to be done.
It was worth the broke swolled up toe though, as it got both Ed and I out of our respective financial holes. Plus we just had a good time, and it was nice to see the people in Shreveport again.
I didn't know it was broken until Saturday morning, when I woke up and it was all swollen and felt like it was on fire. I couldn't put any weight on that foot at all. It was the worst physical pain I can remember feeling in a long time... maybe ever. It hurt right up to my hip. I just couldn't believe that much pain could come from such a teeny little toe. It just hurt and hurt and hurt all day long. I really started to worry because I have to walk to get everywhere, and what if I couldn't walk to work? I'd be f'd. At least we had a good sale, I told myself.
Today it doesn't hurt nearly as bad. That is, it doesn't just hurt nonstop like it did yesterday. I can hobble around, and Ed gave me his crutches and I took a couple of test spins around the block to see how able I was. I figure I can walk to work with the crutches. The bitch is going to be standing up all day at the cash register, and walking around doing stuff that has to be done.
It was worth the broke swolled up toe though, as it got both Ed and I out of our respective financial holes. Plus we just had a good time, and it was nice to see the people in Shreveport again.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
This nonordinary person
Tonight at work I encountered a customer who performed a very odd ritual before handing over money to buy beer. Amidst a strange medley of odd jerks and seemingly purposeless 'motioning' with his arms to a nonexistent point of interest, he dug in his pockets and wallet for money. Upon procuring the money, before he handed it to me, he pet it gently and then kissed it several times, coins and bills alike. He also mumbled incoherently at odd moments, but this constant mumbling was interspersed with coherent words pertaining to the situation, such as 'thank's and 'oh, ok' and 'goodbye'. I of course was struck by the strangeness of his behavior, but it was explained to me later by Stephen that this particular person had obsessive compulsive disorder and something like Tourettes syndrome. Crazy, in other words.
My first reaction to his behavior, which stretched all through the encounter, was a kind of prolonged shock. After he left, Stephen immediately busted out laughing as he recounted to me my slack jawed reaction to this persons behavior. Stephen and I shared a laugh as he explained to me what the strange ritual was, that the guy was OCD and was 'kissing his money goodbye'. Amusement was followed almost immediately by introspective curiosity about what I had just witnessed. I'm not sure if it was my imagination, but when I made eye contact with him it seemed as though his look was one of pleading apology... or maybe just a plain, barren plea... for something. He looked at Stephen this way a couple of times too. And finally... last but not least... I felt sympathy, sadness and remorse for my reflexive and habitual reactions to this nonordinary person. And shame. I hope I see him again so I can be nicer to him next time. Maybe even treat him like a human being.
My first reaction to his behavior, which stretched all through the encounter, was a kind of prolonged shock. After he left, Stephen immediately busted out laughing as he recounted to me my slack jawed reaction to this persons behavior. Stephen and I shared a laugh as he explained to me what the strange ritual was, that the guy was OCD and was 'kissing his money goodbye'. Amusement was followed almost immediately by introspective curiosity about what I had just witnessed. I'm not sure if it was my imagination, but when I made eye contact with him it seemed as though his look was one of pleading apology... or maybe just a plain, barren plea... for something. He looked at Stephen this way a couple of times too. And finally... last but not least... I felt sympathy, sadness and remorse for my reflexive and habitual reactions to this nonordinary person. And shame. I hope I see him again so I can be nicer to him next time. Maybe even treat him like a human being.
Now
I feel trapped in the grip of the merciless now. It seems like now will never end. The onslaught of the enemy hurts. Why does it have to be this way? I hate myself for being so weak, and I hate myself for hating myself. Please let time pass and bring me to a place somewhere in the future away from here. God help me, I'm afraid and alone.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
It's easy, mmmkay
There are times when you get suckered in
By drugs and alcohol and sex with women
But its when you do these things too much
That you've become an addict and must get back in touch
You can do it, its all up to you mmmkay
With a little plan you can change your life today
You don't have to spend your life addicted to smack
Homeless on the streets giving handjobs for crack
Follow my plan and very soon you will say
Its easy mmmkay!
Step 1: Instead of ass say buns, like "kiss my buns" or "you're a buns hole"
Step 2: Instead of shit say poo - "bull poo", "poo head" and "this poo is cold"
Step 3: With bitch drop the T because bich is Latin for generosity
Step 4: Don't say fuck any more because fuck is the worst word that you can say
So just use the word 'mmmkay'!
We can do it, its all up to us mmmkay
With a little plan we can change our lives today
We don't have to spend our lives shooting up in the trash
Homeless on the streets giving handjobs for cash
Follow this plan and very soon you will say
Its easy mmmkay!
Step 1: Instead of ass say buns, like "kiss my buns" or "you're a buns hole"
Step 2: Instead of shit say poo - "bull poo", "poo head" and "this poo is cold"
Step 3: With bitch drop the T because bich is Latin for generosity
Step 4: Don't say fuck any more because fuck is the worst word that you can say
Fuck is the worst word that you can say
You shouldn't say fuck
No you shouldn't say fuck, fuck no!
Your cured, you can go!
By drugs and alcohol and sex with women
But its when you do these things too much
That you've become an addict and must get back in touch
You can do it, its all up to you mmmkay
With a little plan you can change your life today
You don't have to spend your life addicted to smack
Homeless on the streets giving handjobs for crack
Follow my plan and very soon you will say
Its easy mmmkay!
Step 1: Instead of ass say buns, like "kiss my buns" or "you're a buns hole"
Step 2: Instead of shit say poo - "bull poo", "poo head" and "this poo is cold"
Step 3: With bitch drop the T because bich is Latin for generosity
Step 4: Don't say fuck any more because fuck is the worst word that you can say
So just use the word 'mmmkay'!
We can do it, its all up to us mmmkay
With a little plan we can change our lives today
We don't have to spend our lives shooting up in the trash
Homeless on the streets giving handjobs for cash
Follow this plan and very soon you will say
Its easy mmmkay!
Step 1: Instead of ass say buns, like "kiss my buns" or "you're a buns hole"
Step 2: Instead of shit say poo - "bull poo", "poo head" and "this poo is cold"
Step 3: With bitch drop the T because bich is Latin for generosity
Step 4: Don't say fuck any more because fuck is the worst word that you can say
Fuck is the worst word that you can say
You shouldn't say fuck
No you shouldn't say fuck, fuck no!
Your cured, you can go!
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Meredith
I don't look up a lot when I'm checking at work, and last Thursday it took me a while to notice somebody standing to the side for a long time while I was checking a line of customers. I looked up when I saw the person waving at me with my peripheral vision, and there was this cute girl, standing there and waving and smiling. Even then I didn't recognize her and I kind of just smiled back with this silly grin.
She said, "Don't you remember me?" I took another look at her and started tripping over my own thoughts... ummm... I know her, I've seen her before, I actually do know her somehow...
"Um um ummm... um um, um um ummm..." I said. I kept looking at her and saying "um um ummm... um ummm... um, um um... um, ummm..." like a complete retard while quickly tapping the side of my hand into my palm, as if that would help me to remember.
"Meredith!" she said.
"Um um um... Meredith!" I said, one picosecond later, followed by several billion nanoseconds of awkward silence.
"Sure would be a crappy day to lock my keys in the car," she said. It was raining outside.
DUH! Ok I remembered her after that. She had locked her keys in the car about a month ago and we had talked for about half an hour while I was outside cleaning the windows and while she waited for the locksmith. They had charged her 80 bucks to unlock her car door. I thought that was highway robbery and I offered to help her pay for it, but she declined, obviously horrified at the prospect. I knew she'd probably be horrified, but I offered anyway, which was completely inappropriate, I know, but I'm a social retard. Still, she must not have been completely creeped out because she'd invited me to see her perform in a play that night. Of course I was working, and she said no prob, come to the one on Friday night. And I forgot all about it, and I forgot all about her. I'm a doofus.
I finished with the customer and handed the change to Meredith. She looked at me like I was retarded, confirming my own suspicion, and said "Why are you handing me the change?"
And like a dunderhead, I said "My mental faculties have been compromised by your beauty and charm." Then I went red and graduated to Full Fledged Retard. I don't remember exactly what happened after that except for thinking to myself, "self, there's a reason why you don't have a girlfriend, and that was it".
She said, "Don't you remember me?" I took another look at her and started tripping over my own thoughts... ummm... I know her, I've seen her before, I actually do know her somehow...
"Um um ummm... um um, um um ummm..." I said. I kept looking at her and saying "um um ummm... um ummm... um, um um... um, ummm..." like a complete retard while quickly tapping the side of my hand into my palm, as if that would help me to remember.
"Meredith!" she said.
"Um um um... Meredith!" I said, one picosecond later, followed by several billion nanoseconds of awkward silence.
"Sure would be a crappy day to lock my keys in the car," she said. It was raining outside.
DUH! Ok I remembered her after that. She had locked her keys in the car about a month ago and we had talked for about half an hour while I was outside cleaning the windows and while she waited for the locksmith. They had charged her 80 bucks to unlock her car door. I thought that was highway robbery and I offered to help her pay for it, but she declined, obviously horrified at the prospect. I knew she'd probably be horrified, but I offered anyway, which was completely inappropriate, I know, but I'm a social retard. Still, she must not have been completely creeped out because she'd invited me to see her perform in a play that night. Of course I was working, and she said no prob, come to the one on Friday night. And I forgot all about it, and I forgot all about her. I'm a doofus.
I finished with the customer and handed the change to Meredith. She looked at me like I was retarded, confirming my own suspicion, and said "Why are you handing me the change?"
And like a dunderhead, I said "My mental faculties have been compromised by your beauty and charm." Then I went red and graduated to Full Fledged Retard. I don't remember exactly what happened after that except for thinking to myself, "self, there's a reason why you don't have a girlfriend, and that was it".
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Waking up
"The 'natural alarm clock' which enables some people to wake up more or less when they want to is caused by a burst of the stress hormone adrenocorticotropin. Researchers say this reflects an unconscious anticipation of the stress of waking up."
And all this time I thought I was just lucky. The jokes on me!
http://www.abc.net.au/science/sleep/facts.htm
And all this time I thought I was just lucky. The jokes on me!
http://www.abc.net.au/science/sleep/facts.htm
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)