Blogger, realist, clarifier, if there is such a term. Truth teller, who's not afraid to admit I'm wrong. Hellacious, renegade violist and "computer whisperer"; was once accused of practicing the Dark Arts with systems.
I'm tougher than most and survived things that would have killed most women. I still love life. I was homeless, now I'm not. Still in the 'hood, though. Nebraska Avenue, 33605. The stories are priceless and endless.
AFL PLAYOFFS ERK* - REPOST FROM LAST YEAR'S "FALL DOWN AND BE EMBARRASSED IN FRONT OF ELEVENTY-BILLION PEOPLE GUY!"
cheating here; today for the first time since I started with the
seizures, psychotic break and tremors, which is about 18 months, I
played my viola, and surprise of surprises, I sounded damn good (for
about 3 minutes; I have my work cut out for me!) So, that right there
is an achievement. My goal for writing still stands, although I have
edited nothing, but I'm so over the moon about being able to play. I'm cheating because of NaNoWriMo. Q'uel horrores! Or somethiing...
wonder if these are free-range violas, because the price has really
Have you heard about the latest form of urban violence?
Drive-by viola solos.
here's a little number I cobbled up during the American Football
season last year as we headed into our playoff season. Enjoy!
off, goals, schmoals. AS OF LAST NIGHT, I HAD 10087 WORDS FOR NANO!!!!!!!!!!!! (To quote Andi-Roo, my benchmate in this furball, "there was a great tossing of glitter! "Huzzah!)
Anyway, I got a wild hair and am completely taken with
this topic today last year. My low impulse inhibition just took over. Oh well.
I'm off the streets and non-violent. Such is life.
is not your typical Sunday check in post. Nope, first off, it's
Monday and second off, here in the good ol’ U S of A, it is Martin
Luther King Jr.'s Birthday and President
Obama's 2nd Inaugural Celebration! So, what better way for me to
celebrate, than to write about yesterday's NFC Championship
game between the Atlanta Falcons and the San Francisco 49ers that
running over guys and plowing into unaware guys on the side-lines.
That’s right, “UNAWARE” guys on the side lines, during one of
two games that will decide which of two teams are going to the Hyper
Bowl, er, uh I mean, Super Bowl LXVII (is that 47 or 67? I failed
Roman Numerals in Ancient Times class.)
Sing Along: "I
see I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV,
XVI, XVII, XVII Wheels"
got clipped below the knees and fell as if pole-axed, backward onto
that hard surface and landed backwards, head-first, with a bounce or
two and was thankfully unhurt. Apparently, he works at the Atlanta
Falcons field and this was their first ever(!) playoff event, and
really, he can’t be faulted for that part of it. The poor guy had
his back turned to the action and was most likely, looking at and
marveling at the crowd and all of their noise, hoo ha, folderol and
mostly, NOISE. And boy, howdy, there was a bunch of it, being as how,
my Google says, the Georgia Dome can shovel 71,250 people into
This is the kind of noise that Guy Who Fell Down experienced for the FIRST TIME!
first time I ever faced a crowd like that was when I played for
Blues. I was in my mid-30s and had been playing viola
professionally for about 15 years, by this time. My performing
experience went from symphony-polite-coughing and maybe a standing
ovation, or two. Occasionally, the
ovations were prolonged.
wonderous. I love Mozzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..... *snore*
during a Grand
Pause, or a fermata, where
the orchestra came to a screeching, abrupt halt after a fortississimo
passage and it was deathly quiet, I had the great good fortune to
hear a bellowed “I FRY MINE IN LARD…” from the back of the Hall
and then, a stunned quiet, from both the orchestra and the audience.
As one, we all swelled up like toads or horses being saddled, as not
one soul in that huge hall wanted to be the first to laugh.
Grand Pause fortunately, is one of those musical devices that has no
metered time, so as the Conductor stared us all down, daring us to
laugh, and we played “one potato, two potato, three potato, four…”
Concert master and Principal Second Violin and Principal Viola and
Principal Cello all sitting there, giving one another, the hairy
eyeball, becoming rather like “High Noon,” and I and my stand
partner who are on the 2nd stand, not daring to look at
one another, because we are cut ups, idiots and jokers, are puffing
up like horses around rattle snakes, we’re both holding our
breaths, because HolyMotherOfGod. . . I’mJustSoGonnaLaugh. . . I see his
viola scroll start to shake out of the corner of my eye and my eyes
start to water and my nose starts to tickle, am I gonna sneeze? And
just then. . . As I start to go eeeeeeeeeee? As the air is leaking
Conductor gives the downbeat and off we go, probably in a swift
Presto to get to the end of this bitch, so we can all exit stage
Left, Right and Center at a dead run. To this day, I do not remember
what on God’s Green Earth we were playing, but it was probably
Rachmaninoff. I’ve been ambushed by him a number of times.
his Grande Pauses. Well, that was a digression.
Okay, I haven't
faced Wembley and I'm sure I don't want to; actually, I probably do.
We rocked it at 1-800-ASK-GARY Field. A name like that for a Venue
just drips class. I can't wait until Kotex, or Fleet Enema buys a
sponsorship and demands to have it named after their company.
In the summer
of 1992, the Moody Blues were in a resurgence and instead of having a
summer off, we had a tour around the Midwest for a few weeks. We had
an afternoon rehearsal with their conductor who told us the basics,
miced us up and off we went. We had a full orchestra, and plexiglass
partitions between each section. I felt like we were in cattle pens.
That night, the orchestra was in place, when the Blues with Justin
Hayward took the stage.
10,000 people in the audience. Up to that point, I had never played
with that many people in an audience. When that audience roared and
that sound hit the stage, the orchestra, who for the most part had
not experienced that before, was pretty well aware that this night
and this concert were going to be hella different. But first, we had to get
over the shock of all of those people yelling. If we had been zebras,
we’d have been dead ones. We all just froze for about 2 beats and
then our training kicked in and off we went.
was an exhilarating experience I’ve always loved the Moody Blues for their more orchestral stuff, dating back to 1967 and 1968. The conductor, Larry Greene is also their
arranger, and he had gone back and arranged some of their harder rock
stuff like “Ride My Seesaw” for strings and that was a blast to
play as well. I’ve found that I like music with a harder edge to
it. I’m sure it’s one of the reasons I don’t like Mozart and I
revere Beethoven, and he would have been down with all of this.
Mozart gets right up to an idea and then backs away. He never really
releases that full passion that lies underneath his tepid ideas, and maybe that is why; you can't push passion into a tepid idea. The idea itself has to be passionate.
takes a musical idea in his teeth and just ragdolls it. He wrings every
inch of emotion and pathos and exhilaration from it, until you're
exhausted by just listening to it. I love that and I love playing
Beethoven; he is so worth it. I also love the fact that he doesn’t
bore the violists to death in his orchestral and other ensemble
writing. Mozart is too precious, hard to play and there’s damn little
reward for all of that work; he’s insipid. Oops, lemme get back to
our sideline guy.
My personal muse, from birth. We share the same birthday, some say, just not the same year.
enjoyed my rock ‘n’ roll violist career, which has also veered
off into blues, metal, blue-grass, country, pop, motown and a bit of
rap and hip-hop, believe it or not. But, back to our poor dude, man.
Did I feel for him. Guy stood up; I was so relieved, he fell hard. As
he was turning around, the Fox Team, (Terry, Howie, Michael, Jimmy
and Whoever) were helpfully pointing out that this was the Falcon’s
first playoff Event ever. The guy who had been knocked over was
wearing a jacket that said “Event Team” on it.
the man turned and looked at the camera you could tell he was
thinking, “Oh dear, can I move to Saturn? Maybe to Pluto. Pluto
isn’t far enough away… My wife is going to divorce me. What was I
thinking? My grandkids are going to be talking about this and wanting
to hear this story, forevah!. This is going to be on AFV, isn’t it?
Geez, on National TV, no, INTERNATIONAL! Gack! Did my Aunt in Outer
Slobovia see me? I hope I don’t get fired. I would have been better off shitting my pants, or throwing up. At least farting, maybe. You can't smell that over the air. I'm so dead”
guy, if I hear you got in trouble over this, I’m writing a letter.
I’ve done so much stupid stuff in front of the public, it’s not
funny. I’ve fallen off stages, fallen out of chairs. Fallen off
risers. I very gracefully draped myself across 3 people once, along
with my viola and bow, held up over my head and rolled like a barrel
down to the floor, protecting my baby, my viola, my honey, my Wolf. How I managed
that, I will never know. I’ve taken bows wearing Taco Bell on
formal, black velvet unknowingly, after playing a triumphant
Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. To make matters worse, my stand
partner’s fly was open during the whole performance. I don’t
think Beethoven would have minded.
point is, a roaring crowd is pretty impressive; I was awed by it when
I was on the “receiving” end of it the first time. It does take
some getting used to. So, Guy Who Was Knocked Down and Was
Embarrassed, don’t be. I hope you get a chance to get used to it as
more Falcons playoff games come your way. I hope you are okay. You
made my day.
Itinerant violist and computer trouble-shooter for more years than I care to admit. While no longer homeless, still crazy, but with Labels *sigh* a bus-riding Asperger, bipolar-ridden, PD or non-PD, carbon life-form, providing fodder for Medical community. Not even kidding. Still ridiculous.
Acquiring a much richer and fuller experience and finding deeper meaning in day to day life, than I ever learned in a classroom, concert hall, or computer center. I will never believe that things just occur randomly, just monumentally disordered.