Music and the beast...

Classical music brought Dear Husband and I together. When we discovered we had a mutual love for classical and especially certain composer’s music, we went on to become great friends. We’re still friends in fact, and music is still very much a part of our lives.

Way back when we first started to go to concerts together we had a subscription to the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra’s season as well as the opera and ballet seasons at the Metropolitan Opera House in Lincoln Center (NYC). We also went to Carnegie Hall once in awhile and occasionally made a foray to Philadelphia to the Academy of Music for a concert. Ah, those were the days…

We attended a couple of concerts at Avery Fischer Hall in Lincoln Center but we didn’t like their acoustics. I’m told they’ve improved the acoustics since then but I wouldn’t know for sure. We also went on occasion to the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center for the city ballet and operas. The kids got to see The Nutcracker there several times and I took them to the Peking (Beijing) Opera at the Met, which was lots of fun. There were tons of kids there that day and everyone especially enjoyed the Chinese Acrobats and the ballet part was also super. The sonnies weren’t so keen on the music though. “Too screechy,” complained older sonny.

Anyway… When Dear Husband and I first went to the concerts in Newark we both noticed the percussionist, in particular, who had a great deal of zeal for his job. He was always slightly disheveled looking and when the moment for him to “percuss” approached he had a huge smile and look of expectation. When he hit those big cymbals the look of joy he emitted was a thing to behold.

Neither Dear Husband nor I had said anything to the other about this fellow but apparently we had both been watching him independently and enjoying him immensely. I think it was our 4^th concert of the season when we each offhandedly mentioned our impressions of this wild and crazy guy and how much we looked forward to seeing him again. This was going to be a doozy of a concert for percussion. We were going to hear Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony and as admirers of his music, our anticipation level was high. We weren’t disappointed either. The concert was stupendous and the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra was at its best that day. The percussion was exciting!

After the concert we were unable to get up. Everyone else cleared the hall almost immediately but we were turned to mush and sat satiated, basking in the afterglow of the music.

And that was how we came to meet Fred Pizzuto, percussionist extraordinaire.

While we sat there trying to get our sea legs back again the stagehands were busily taking down the stands, folding up the musicians seats and removing them. Amid this bustle, out came the ebullient percussionist and proceeded to the edge of the stage, with his hands clasped behind his back and he just stood there looking around at the practically empty hall with a big smile on his face. Overcome by the moment, I yelled “you were terrific!” “Yeah, I know” he yelled back…and then he disappeared…just like that. Dear Husband and I looked at each other in amazement and cracked up. Two minutes later that percussionist was edging down the aisle of seats and sat down next to us and said “you’se two must be music lovers!”

What an experience this was, straight out of a wacky movie… We admitted that yes, we were music lovers and then we all introduced ourselves. It turns out that Fred Pizzuto, “our” percussionist, was “on loan” to the NJ Symphony from the American Symphony Orchestra of New York and often lent his talents out when needed. Wow, was this ever cool! We’ve certainly had a lot of swell experiences together, Dear Husband and I and this was definitely a highlight.

It was just after the aforementioned Peking (Beijing) Opera that I next saw Fred Pizzuto… After the perfomance we all left the Metropolitan Opera building and were going to go across the street to a restaurant before the long trek home. Somehow the kids and I got separated from Dear Husband and while searching for him in the milling crowd I was suddenly embraced by a man in a stunning white tuxedo replete with cummerbund and bowtie. Oh my… It was Fred! The sonnies just stood there with their mouths agape while this spectacular stranger, excitedly talking and gesticulating all the while, started pulling me away with his arm around my waist and left them standing there perplexed in the unfamiliar crowd.

“Fred!” I cried. “My children!” I cried. “Those are my children back there!” “My husband is lost…” It took a few moments for him to actually get what I was saying because he was so excited to see me. We got back to the kids, got them properly introduced and continued to look for Dear Husband, Fred included.

“You’ve just got to stay and hear our performance in a little while” he said. “We’re performing (I totally forget what) and we’re gonna be superb today!” The performance he was talking about was an outside concert alongside the Met in the shell and due to start in about 15 minutes. “Oh Fred, I (we) can’t. We’ve lost Dear Husband and we need to find him or he won’t know where we are. He may have already gone to the restaurant looking for us. We’re all starved since we haven’t eaten since breakfast and the sonnies are threatening mutiny!” I said. “Sorry!”

At that point, Dear Husband was sighted, the orchestra had started warming up and one of the members had come seeking Fred. We didn’t see him again for awhile. I wrote him a note, although I couldn’t remember his last name and I didn’t know where to send it so I just sent it to Fred the percussionist, in care of the N.J. Symphony Orchestra. I wanted to explain a little more about that day since it ended so abruptly and confusedly.

I didn’t hear anything from him for a long time. Periodically Dear Husband would ask “have you heard anything from Fred?” Alas, no… Then, one day many months later, the mailman delivered an envelope with unfamiliar looking handwriting and I ripped it open to find a short letter and two tickets for a performance at Carnegie Hall in the near future, performed by the American Symphony Orchestra in NYC. The note said that Fred had received my note just as he was walking out the door to travel with the orchestra to Europe for the summer and he tossed it in a drawer, thinking to respond when he got back and then forgot about it when he returned until he rummaged in the drawer for something else. My note to him had been forwarded from the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra to the American Symphony Orchestra in NYC and then to Fred’s home address in New Jersey. Wow, I went the circuit and didn’t even know it.

Anyway, Fred hoped that we’d use the tickets he enclosed and would like the concert and look him up behind the scenes after the performance. The program was Ein Heldenleben by Richard Strauss and another work I can’t remember right now. He could not have known that Ein Heldenleben was Dear Husband’s favorite work but it was and we went and we loved it! We were thrilled with the excellent box seats as well as the performance. Afterwards, we went backstage as directed and after several tries with different orchestra members we hooked up with Fred and if memory serves, we ended up at the Carnegie Café afterwards. That’s the way our life goes and we’re always amazed…

As life happens, we were in touch with Fred for awhile but the correspondence became more “spotty.” We moved to another state and Fred was a busy person and travelled over the world constantly. It has been many years now since the last time we saw or heard from him but I just know that someday, somewhere it might happen again and we look forward to it.

You’ve heard about the 6 degrees of separation, everyone being only 6 people away from one another and we have run into and spent time with someone who knows (or did know) Fred quite well. He came from the same city as Fred but ended up as a student at our college. He is a percussionist. This young man’s grandmother sang at the Met at one time and his father sang in the Met Opera chorus. Jarrett oozes musical talent. In fact, I had heard him once described as a prodigy. He was always involved with orchestras and jazz groups and I expect we’ll run into him again someday too. It is our earnest hope. There are music molecules running through his bloodstream and right now he is teaching music and performing.

Another student from our college who was himself an extremely talented percussionist and with whom I have had an intermittent correspondence is Rich Dart. He’s also an extrovert, supremely creative and a musical joy. Rich once had a program on the college radio station and was an active participant on the local television show After Dark emanating from the college and with a number of other creative students which even included younger sonny.

Funny how we always get to know percussionists. Dear Husband worked with a young man who was a “temporary” in his lab and who was studying with the principal percussionist with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and was only about a semester away from his degree in music. In the end, after much thoughtful soul searching, he chose not to go into music but decided instead to open a martial arts studio here in our town and is extremely successful at it. I guess you could say that music may “soothe the wild beast” but it doesn’t take the fight out of him…

Meanwhile, does anyone out there know whatever became of Fred Pizzuto, percussionist extraordinaire? Inquiring minds want to know…

Dog on request...

Some folks have requested a picture of that doggoned artsy dog buddy of mine. Okay folks, Here he is, Trevor the wonder dog...

Nothing like a loyal friend...

What do you get when take a Sharpei and you mix him with a Doberman pinscher? My dog. Or more accurately, my best buddy… The result is a dog who turned out to look somewhat like a concerned labrador retriever, only a smidge smaller. Also, he has the Sharpei folded ears (CUTE), a slightly “frowny” brow and double pads on his paws, which are useless in snow but make him sort of prance when he walks. I think of him as a dancer… He’s a very polite dog. He loves everyone, is quiet and friendly and doesn’t smell “doggy." He’s quite intelligent, loves to play even though he’s getting old, is totally devoted to his orange rubber ball and is an excellent companion.

This dog seems to respond to art and is also super aware of his environment. A long time ago, when we first adopted him and brought him home he made a complete tour of the entire house, studying everything in great detail from the ground up to the top shelves. He didn’t hurry the job but took everything in. I found myself holding my breath until he gave the signal that he approved and was ready to relax and call it home. Pshew! This dog supervises the decorating of the house and trimming of the tree at holiday time and also supervises our taking down and putting everything away. He’s very fussy about things. I wish he’d pitch in and help once in awhile, but hey, he’s a dog…

He has certain paintings that he seems to gravitate to and I sometimes find him sitting and staring at them. It’s almost eerie sometimes. Perhaps I’ll get him a paint set and a canvas and see what he can do. Heck, they do it with elephants and cats. Why not this guy? I wonder if he requires a jaunty beret? Nah, guess not… I could go on about him but that would wear thin. After all, like good parents everywhere, most dog owners think theirs is the best. But you know what I think…

The slippery slopes of stupidity...

I bought a new pair of shoes a few nights ago. Not great shoes, but nice shoes. I didn’t actually go in that store to get shoes. I was looking for slippers…clog style slippers for the sonnies to replace the ones I got them for Christmas which ended up being the wrong size…for both of them! They liked the slippers though, so I figured I’d go back and get the next size up for each of them and life would be good again. I didn’t take the other slippers back since they ended up fitting Dear Husband and I. Okay, younger sonny’s slippers were a tad big for me, but hey…

The store didn’t have any more slippers in their sizes. In fact, they didn’t have a lot of anything else either since the holidays and the after holiday sales were over. Why am I only getting around to it now, you ask? Because we just celebrated Christmas less than a week ago, that’s why. Before that we were just truckin’ back and forth to the hospital for a couple of weeks. So anyhoo, this shopping excursion was a bust.

Except that I saw this pair of shoes… They were in my size but the box said wide. I only wear a "normal" width but they didn’t look very wide and they were nice and they were affordable. In fact, the only thing I could see wrong with these shoes was what the box said. I tried them on. Not bad. They fit, of course, since they were my numerical size. I don’t know who decided that these shoes were supposed to be wide anyway. You should’ve seen them… They just looked like normal shoes and they sure weren’t all that roomy on the tootsies either.

Well, okay, maybe they were just a little bit loose in the heel part. They slid up and down a teensy bit but with shoes that come up over the arch so snugly (you know…like Merrell’s jungle mocs), it takes a couple of wearings before they stop sliding up and down. The soles are stiff in the beginning but after the shoe takes a liking to your foot it stops slipping. I figured this was going to be one of those cases so I took a chance and bought them.

I once bought another pair of shoes which said wide on them. They were dressy pumps and those are always tight anyway since my feet swell. Therefore, I figured the wider ones would work out fine and I wouldn’t be in misery when I dressed up since that’s usually at the end of the day when my feet are already swollen. Wrong!!! Those darn shoes have never stopped sliding up and down on my heels and I can’t wear them because they cause blisters the size of Japan. I know what you’re going to say… You’re going to recommend using those things you slap inside in the heel part to keep the danged things on your feet, right? Hah! I already put them in there ages ago. If anything, they made the slipping worse because now the front part of the shoes slides around too and my feet pop out of them sometimes when I walk. Damn shoes…

Well…you know what?

I did it again..!!

The fine art of eggshell walking and other distinctions...

What an unusual week this has been. For instance, we finally got to celebrate Christmas last night and now I can take down the increasingly dusty decorations and pack them away for another year. It’s time once again to adjust to a new year and the fresh start which that represents. I still can’t believe we’re already five years into the new century. I have to laugh when I think of how so many people got stressed out over Y2K and now no one even remembers. So far the current year has not brought a great deal of positive news with it, either on a global scale or on a personal level either. In fact, it seems as if the whole world is falling apart faster than you can say two thousand five...

Her Sweetness was over with my dad last night, joining us and the two sonnies for “the Christmas that almost didn’t happen” and then we spoke on the phone again today. In fact, we spoke congenially and even made some plans without taking on shrapnel. I don’t know if this means that she has mellowed or if it means that I’m getting better about not pushing the “hot” buttons. We actually had some peace between us and it started me thinking…

For years, when asked what I wanted for a gift, I’d say “I’d like to have world peace.” I thought I had a concept of what that would be, but upon closer introspection I have come to realize that not only is world peace a fuzzy concept but it’s probably impossible. Human beings are not by nature peaceful creatures anymore than say, dogs, lions, deer, bears, goats, cats, whathaveyou… Whether human or animal, survival of the fittest seems to be the operative principle.

What does peace mean to you? Consider for a moment... Does it mean lack of competition or complete compromise? Does it mean one person giving in and abandoning his or her principles to keep up the status quo? Should it mean complete balance but forfeiture of “self?” Is it a static concept? How peaceful would a dynamic concept be? At some point, someone is going to want to exert a bit more will and when that happens the peaceful dynamic goes out the window.

As long as there are two people left, one of them is going to be unhappy at least part of the time and if one person is unhappy, there is no peace. Think of the term “king of the hill and there you have the nature of mankind. Let’s face it, we all want to be “the one…” You can evidence this by watching kids in the sandbox or on the playground. The truth is we mature, sure…but that little kid is still in there beating his or her little chest and trying to prevail. We never get much farther than that, just more accomplished…

For instance, at least one of you reading this is likely to be offended by my use of the words mankind and king(of the hill). Ergo, obliteration of peace. So then, would peace be defined as tolerance? If that’s the criteria we’re even farther away from having peace on earth than I would have thought… In this age of political correctness, we’re actually growing further away from tolerance, which is presumably supposed to be the end product of said politically correct procedures. But now started, we cannot go back so we’ve moved to a completely untenable position.

Okay, forget the rest of the world… Where do I stand on this peace issue? I’d like to see everyone get along and be tolerant and agreeable and get an equal chance at life. I don’t want anyone to force their ideals on me and I don’t think it’s fair for me to force my ideals on someone else. But that’s what I think might be a good position but actually, it connotes total passivity, which is not necessarily so good either. Suddenly I’m aware that my ideal may not be another’s ideal and then there’s that whole battle of psycho-social issues to be dealt with and who does get to have the final say? If it’s me, then others will be unhappy and if it’s others, then I will probably be unhappy at some point too, so I don’t call that peaceful.

I read what the dictionary said about peace, then I read about pacificism and then I read about war and… You know what? You can read and discuss this forever but I still think that as long as there are two people on earth, unless they’re completely of like-mind, there can be no actual peace. It’s a fuzzy concept at best. But I still dream of it and I bet you do too. And it’s still what I want when asked what I’d like to have as a gift and it’s a costly one. I thought I was easy to please and a relatively inexpensive person to maintain but I’m beginning to re-think that. I always seem to ask for the most costly gift of all…

Absolutely maybe...

You may or may not already know that I like interesting or unusual words and am constantly finding and learning new ones (new to me anyway). I’m always consulting the dictionary for something and just love the Microsoft Bookshelf program. It’s a mini encyclopedia and even though I have Brittanica Deluxe Edition loaded on my computer, as well as Encarta, I more often than not head straight to Bookshelf for a quicky… I know, I know…you’re thinking “how weird she is” and perhaps you’re right.

For instance, I was looking up recidivism recently. I know what it means and can use it correctly but since I’d been thinking of it lately with regard to something in particular, I thought it would be interesting to look it up. I’m glad I did. I came across another word, one which I’d never heard before and now I know about…tergiversation, which is a synonym of recidivism. How cool is that?! Tergiversation. Apostasy was another word I saw with regard to recidivism. I know what apostasy means but I’ve never used it before in conversation. It’s another synonym for tergiversation and recidivism.

Yeah, yeah, so what?! Where’s this monologue going? Nowhere. That’s all I have to say. I just thought tergiversation was worth a mention and if you’ve been using it all along, please overlook my obtuseness. Of course, eventually obtuseness will lead you in the direction of retuse, which is another word I had never heard. You botanists have probably used the word retuse as it is an adjective meaning “having a rounded or obtuse apex with a central shallow notch” as in a retuse leaf. Hmmmn, no wonder my mother has never understood me. She has thought for years that I was sort of strange. Can you imagine that?

Oh wait..! As long as I’m on a word kick, I want to mention a pet peeve of mine. Absolutely! How often have you heard the word absolutely used this past year? At least 3 zillion times probably… No not probably, absolutely. No neutral or wishful words here. Only the most positive or absolute terminology will do. Absolutely seems to be the new catch-all term for answering just about anything and absolutely everyone uses it. Absolutely always… You hear it at the bank, on the radio or television, at the doctor’s, in friendly conversations,in newspapers, in schools, movies and absolutely ALL interviews everywhere. Ask anybody anything and they will absolutely tell you absodamnlutely yes or no. ABSOLUTELY! Got that? Absolutely! Grrrrrr… Please find another word. Please! Please? Oh, absolutely…

Much later...

Well, goodness… Time sure has slipped by. My last post was December 16…of last year. It’s now 2005. Two thousand five! Five years into a whole new century. It still blows my mind. We haven’t celebrated Christmas yet. Good thing we didn’t have a “real” tree. It would have disintegrated by now into a combustible little pile of tinder.

Life doesn’t always go according to plan. How often have I heard that one?! It sure does say it all though. A close family member ended up in the hospital on December 21st and has been there until today. We had our Christmas meal in the hospital and it wasn’t such a bad meal at that. It was certainly a different experience…

Perhaps we’ll follow through with our usual Christmas festivities soon. We’ll see. The tree and decorations are still up and the gifts waiting. Younger sonny has now “winged his way” out to a sunny clime with a couple of friends, to attend a video game convention. I thought he was going tomorrow or at least later tonight but when I tried to connect with him and share some good-ish news, I found out that he was already gone. “Early this morning,” the roommate said. I suppose we’ll wait for him to get back.

On another topic, we live in New England. I like living in New England. New England used to be nice and snowy in the winter. I love snow! But we’ve been cheated lately in the snow department. So what I want to say is…you folks out there where it’s not supposed to be snowy in the winter…where the sun is supposed to shine relentlessly and be the polar opposite (excuse the pun) of winter in New England…GIVE US BACK OUR SNOW, goldarnit!

Now I know that most people would prefer to leave wintry conditions behind and seek warmth and sun, and they take vacations to places which are hot and sunny and totally devoid of winter. Actually, younger sonny falls into that category. I, on the other hand, would just as soon take a vacation away from the “hot and sunny” to a place which is much cooler and hopefully, has snow. I prefer cooler temperatures, beautiful fluffy snow and the peacefulness that snowy weather brings because the world is not so cluttered up with cars and trucks and motorcycles and people and noise. For me a vacation is the surcease of so much external activity and a temporary change of climactic conditions which transform the immediate world into a snow mantled Currier and Ives type of setting.

Okay, that’s it… I’ve had my say. It doesn’t take much to put me in good spirits. A little snow in the winter and the family healthy and happy. And speaking of happy, may you all have a rip-snortin’ good new year full of peace and prosperity for all!