Champagne

I think I’ll do it over again. The song, that is.  I’ve been under the weather, hadn’t played for a week actually, was kinda tight. Low key body ache, soar throat, sniffles, low energy. Canceled two rehearsals, one on the morning it was supposed to happen. That’s not like me, and I feel pretty strange about it . . .

Hm, but you know what? I think it’s time for a regular old flu shot. Just because of Covid doesn’t mean other stuff isn’t going around. Anyway, come back tomorrow or Sunday, for more champagne.

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Strange Synchronicities

1. I awoke the other morning after only two hours sleep before a very busy and seemingly important day. Going to the computer to check the time, I watched the clock turn from 5:59:59 to 6:00:00 before my eyes.

2. Knowing it was time to issue a newsletter, that morning, I did so. As I submitted it, the clock turned from 8:59 to 9:00.

3. This week, I wrote a Tuesday Tuneup, knowing I had scheduled the previous day’s gratitude list to post at 7:30am on Monday. As I submitted the Tuneup, I watched the clock turn from 7:29 to 7:30, just as I clicked on “Publish.”

4. In the year 2018, I decided to calculate the first day that I ever slept outdoors, after years of sleeping inside.  The calculations are preserved in this blog post.  It was 11:50 when I finished the post, so I set it at midnight.  The next morning, I looked at the computer clock and realized I had made the discovery exactly fourteen years after I had first slept outdoors.  So I discovered on May 17, 2018 that I first slept outdoors on May 17, 2004.

5. Incidentally, that same year, I was talking with Lauren Sapala about the use of meter in prose.  She mentioned that Neal Cassidy had done this, and I said I also had used it in a piece called The Temple of the Human Race.  Lauren wrote back asking me if I knew that it was the same day as the date on the piece, or if I had changed the date.   I had not changed the date – for why would I have?  It turned out I had written the piece on March 23, 2007, and sent it to her on March 23, 2018.

6. Finally, feeling full of synchronicity, I decided to count how many days it was that I was homeless.  I first became homeless on May 17, 2004, as I have told you.   I got down on my knees outside Sequoia Station and screamed at God to put an end to twelve years of homelessness on July 17, 2016 – as I have told you — and knew somehow that my homelessness was over – that the prayer was valid, and the needed action would be revealed.  Interesting that it was the 17th of each month.   Counting the days between the two dates (it can be done!) it turned out to be 4,444 days.

7. And to make a nice number seven, I must ask the question: “What does it all mean?”

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Tuesday Tuneup 88

Q. What’s happening now?

A. Nothing.

Q. Nothing?

A. Nothing.

Q. But isn’t that impossible?

A. What do you mean?

Q. Aren’t many things always happening, all around us?

A. You’ve got a point there. But there’s nothing happening inside me.

Q. No feelings?

A. None.

Q. Numb?

A. Numb.

Q. How long have you been this way?

A. I’m not sure.

Q. What made you this way?

A. A lifetime of overreacting to each and every vicissitude.

Q. Vicissitude?

A. Vicissitude.

Q. What does “vicissitude” mean?

Vicissitude: Today's Vocabulary word, an a2z post - In ...

Q. Is that your answer?

A. Yes.

Q. So you are no longer overreacting to every vicissitude?

A. Correct. I no longer react. I merely observe and absorb.

Q. How long do you think this will last?

A. Who knows?

Q. Are you happy to be numb?

A. Neither happy nor sad. I experience no reaction whatever to my numbness.

Q. Empty?

A. Empty.

Q. Done?

A. Finished.

The Questioner is silent.

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Tuesday Tuneup 87

Hey I wrote this on Sunday night, at the end of a classically bad day during which, at one point, I threatened to leave WordPress out of total annoyance with the new editor, combined with a seeming inability to return to the old editor. I’ve revised my position, though I am just as annoyed. I’ll continue to post as I’m able. 

So — I permitted my feelings on Sunday night to result in this tune-up, which turned out to be a positive introspective exercise.  Hope you can relate (at least some of the time).

Q. What’s happening now?

A. Pain.

Q. Physical pain?

A. No. The other kind of pain.

Q. Mental?

A. Or emotional. Or spiritual, or existential. You know the pain I mean.

Q. Existential?

A. Best describes it, yes.

Q. Elaborate?

A. Emptiness.

Q. Who can fill that void?

A. You know the answer to that. Only God can feel the void. But God is —

Q. Intangible?

A. Bingo.

Q. Doesn’t God work through people?

A. That’s part of the problem. There aren’t any people around to work through.

Q. There aren’t?

A. You’re kinda boring tonight, do you know that?

Q. Boring, like — empty?

A. Yes.

Q. But isn’t that merely a reflection of your own internal emptiness?

A. I suppose it could be. Boredom, emptiness, loneliness — they’re all kinda connected.

Q. Are you lonely?

A. Right now, yes. Usually, no. It’s because of stuff that happened — bad stuff — stuff I wish I didn’t have to face or process —

Q. And if she were here, you wouldn’t have to?

A. I see what you’re driving at. If she were here, and I were in this mood, she would just become a sounding board. It would dehumanize her. I’d be using her. That would be lousy. You’re right — I’m best off alone. That way I won’t subject anyone to myself.

Q. But doesn’t she love you?

A. I believe she does, yes. But she loves the right things about me. That’s why I love her. Not many people have ever come along that even see those things in me.

Q. So — are you saying — you don’t want her to have to see — the wrong things?

A. Not the wrong things — the bad things. The things that are hard to live with. The things that make it hard for me to live even with my own self. Nobody should ever have to see those things — not even me, really. And yet, because I am me, I am consigned to see them all the time.

Q. Tell me: what do you see when you look in the mirror?

A. Oh come off of it!! You’re starting to sound like a pop psychology guru! I had enough of those cats in the seventies, for crying out loud.

Q. But what do you see when you look in the mirror?

A. I don’t know – let me go look. Brb.

Pause.

A. I see a guy who could use a shave.

Q. Is that all? Nothing else?

A. Not to speak of. It’s the unshaved look — most glaring.

Q. When was the last time you shaved?

A. Probably the last time I had a razor to shave with.

Q. When was that?

A. Oh, I don’t know. Five days ago, maybe.

Q. When is the next time you’ll have a razor?

A. Probably tomorrow. Razors are on my list.

Q. But why is your unshaven appearance the main thing you see?

A. It’s what’s on my mind, I guess.

Q. Not shaving?

A. Never mind. Some items are easier to hang onto than others. Razors go quickly.

Q. What else goes quickly?

A. Coffee. I rip right through that stuff.

Q. Could you use a cup of coffee?

A. Not anymore. I had a quad espresso earlier, when I finally got it together to figure out the easiest softest way to get caffeine into my system.

Q. When was that?

A. At about five in the afternoon.

Q. You didn’t have a cup of coffee till five in the afternoon?

A. No I didn’t. I also didn’t get a damn thing done all day.

Q. What about after the quad espresso?

A. By that time, I was brain dead. Long story.

Q. So you had a bad day?

A. You could say that, yes.

Q. Isn’t tomorrow another day?

A. Look buddy – how many tomorrows have we got left? It’s not as though we can afford to have too many more bad days. Every day is precious – the times are evil — we need to redeem the time —

Q. Why are you carrying the weight of the world on the shoulders?

A. Who else is going to do it? Atlas?

Q. Well there must many others who are equally concerned with —

A. Yeah – and you know who they are, don’t you?

Q. Not — exactly —

A. They’re a secret organization of cats from another dimension. Somehow they have successfully infiltrated the earth with an organized plan to save the planet. Only a select few of us even know they exist. They have taken great measures to conceal their identity, even from the Internet —

Q. Woah! Aren’t you sounding like a conspiracy theorist?

A. No! I’ve actually met these guys! And they swore me to secrecy, and —

Q. Are you on the level?

A. Why would I not be on the level?

Q. If the things you’re saying are so outlandish, how can you expect others to believe you?

A. That’s why I don’t usually talk about them. People will only think I’m insane.

Q. Are you insane?

A. Maybe more so on days like today than on other days. You see, if she were here, I wouldn’t be so alone, and my thoughts would not take me off into those strange conspiratorial dimensions.

Q. She would ground you?

A. I don’t know about that. But she would take my attention away from darker matters.

Q. Is she a lighter matter?

A. I believe so, yes. She understands me. Most people don’t. How can I not love her?

Q. So you love her because she loves you?

A. Yes.

Q. Do you love just anybody who loves you?

A. Who else loves me? She’s the only one who loves me. She’s the only one who even understands me.

Q. How do you know this?

A. I can tell.

Q. Has she ever told you she loves you?

A. No. But I can still tell.

Q. Then why don’t you let her in?

A. I don’t know. It seems — wrong. She will eventually see the bad stuff in me. And it will burst her bubble. And I will feel bad. And it would be better not to take that risk.

Q. What about God?

A. What about Him?

Q. Maybe only Christ can fill that void – you know?

A. I know. I’m supposed to love Him because He first loved me.

Q. Then what’s keeping you?

Pause.

A. A couple things, actually.

Q. Shoot.

A. First off, what is love?

Q. How can you ask that question?

A. Why shouldn’t I?

Q. Haven’t you already implied that you know what love is, since you know that she loves you?

A. That leads to the second thing.

Q. What’s that?

A. Who is she?

The Questioner is silent.

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Tuesday Tuneup 83

Q. What’s happening now?

A. Frustration.

Q. Over what?

A. WordPress.

Q. Why?

A. For one thing, the blog posts no longer manifest in chronological order. As soon as I get to The Very Same World, it deviates from the order and throws me onto all kinds of posts that happened forty years ago. This sure doesn’t help when I’m trying to figure out the number of the last Tuesday Tuneup I wrote.

Q. Isn’t there another path of navigation that will lead you to the Tuneup number?

A. Yes. So I googled Tuesday Tuneup 82, which is the last one I remembered writing, but I wasn’t sure. But whenever I put Tuesday Tuneup 82 onto Google, all these other tuneups were coming up, I guess more popular ones, and I could never get to 82.

Q. What about quotes?

A. Eventually I realized quotes could help, and eventually I put Tuesday Tuneup 82 in quotes, and it came up.

Q. Why didn’t you do that in the first place?

A. Just cuz it’s not my practice. I usually find out by scrolling down, and the scrolling down led to weird other places. I figured it would come out without quotes, so I guess I tried it third.

Q. How about just writing down the number of each Tuneup and putting it in a place where you can find it?

A. Why are you on my case?

Q. Why do you think I’m on your case?

A. I don’t know. You’re just kinda annoying me this morning.

Q. Whatever. So when you pulled up Tuesday Tuneup 82. what happened?

A. You know what happened! I got slammed with this new interface.

Q. Then what did you do?

A. Started googling things like “Go back to Old WordPress editor.”

Q. Then what happened?

A. It said to “go to plugins” and then find the Old Editor and reinstall it.

Q. Why didn’t you do that?

A. Because I couldn’t find “plugins.” Looked all over for it.

Q. And now you’re settling for the New Editor?

A. Begrudgingly. WordPressed my buttons.

Q. Which buttons?

A. Resentment against pseudo-authority.

Q. What do you mean by pseudo-authority?

A. I mean the dynamic whereby one thinks that they are an authority, but by all rights, they are NOT an authority.

Q. Can you clarify?

A. Morally, ethically, and in terms of rights, it is not the perogative of WordPress (or Microsoft or Google or Facebook or whoever else), to decide where I should go. If I wanted to go to Phoenix, nobody has the authority to make to go to Cincinnati. That’s what it feels like. I intend, through my executive agency, to go to the Old Editor, and they KIDNAP ME and take me to some foreign editor whom I don’t even know.

Q. But you did give up and try to use the New Editor?

A. Did I have a choice? I’m at the New Editor begrudgingly. Already TWICE I’ve hit some damned key that I keep hitting, maybe five times a day, that instantly eradicates all my work. If it weren’t for the Drafts, I’d have never gotten this far.

Q. Where is that key?

A. I have no idea. I’ve been asking people about since 1999. Nobody seems to ever take me seriously. I wonder if it’s something that only happens on MY computers. But it’s maddening, whatever it is.

Q. So you are basically saying — what?

A. I resent any situation where somebody feels they have the authority to hijack my agency. They should be a gentleman about it. They shouldn’t just throw things on me, no matter who they are.

Q. But hasn’t WordPress been talking about the interface for weeks now?

A. Sure they have. But I haven’t paid any attention.

Q. Why not?

A. Because I figured I would just use the Old Editor. And now I am just frustrated because under the all the other pressure, I can’t find the Old Editor.

Q. Don’t you feel kind of childish?

A. Yes, I do. I feel like a spoiled child. It is not that important for me to be doing any of this right now. I’m pissed off because I’ve been up since 8, I thought I could just compose a simple tune-up that I always enjoy writing, and start the day off on a nice note, and be in a good mood at rehearsal this afternoon for the Kids

Q. Well — uh – I mean, Andy — isn’t your rehearsal for the Kids more important than the Tuneup?

A. What do you mean? I miss the Tuneup half of the Tuesdays or more! I just wanted to do it this time, and do it quickly, and get on with the day.

Q. Do you mean to tell me you have spent four hours trying to figure out how to get to the Tuneup field?

A. Um – er – not exactly – the plumbers came over, I was talking to them, played a little piano, made a sandwich, and did some other things, but whenever I got back to the computer, all that has happened on any level has been navigational stress and failure.

Q. So you’re in a bad space?

A. Yes. And I want to be in a good space — not for me, or for the the Kids. They’re just — too good. And I have worked with Kids who are flaky – and they put my name in a bad light. But these kids – are not like that. They do show up on time. They don’t make lame excuses for not being there that any idiot can see through. They don’t insult my intelligence in that fashion, nor do they have a problem with my authority – which is in this case, is not Pseudo-Authority, but Real Authority. They’re reliable and talented and enthusiastic, and the least I can do is greet them with a good mood.

Q. Have you ever been in a bad mood whenever you’ve seen these Kids?

A. No – next to my daughter, these Kids are the delight of my life right now.

Q. Well then, you could be in a bad mood till 3:30 and then instantly be in a good mood, as you soon as you see the Kids.

A. True.

Q. Do you want to be in a bad mood till 3:30?

A. No.

Q. Then why don’t you just post the Tuneup and get on with the day?

A. Good idea.

Q. Anything else?

A. No. End of rant. Andy OUT.

(There’s supposed to be some thing here that says to donate to Eden in Babylon but I don’t want to stress on figuring it out right now. It’s a beautiful day and there’s music to play. God bless.)

Evolution of a Song: Part Three

So I mentioned somewhere along the line — either in Part One or Part Two, I suppose – that I had decided to write an opera in the year 2009.

The opera I would call Eden in Babylon.   I only wrote the first Act, as it happened, before I burned out on the idea that Eden in Babylon was supposed to be an opera, and not just a regular old musical.

The first Eden in Babylon was quite different.   It had nothing to do with homelessness.   Instead of entering into homelessness after the first two scenes, the main character entered into a fantasy world of the imagination.   Really, only the title remains, as the show has changed its context so much.

In that realm of imagination lived a woman named Helzabel, who objected to all things beautiful.   She held Artists in particular disdain, since they often created the very beauty to which she objected.   The song she sang, Cloaks of Art, played with the biblical concept called “cloaks of maliciousness.”  (1 Peter 2:16 KJV.)

But now that Eden in Babylon had become a musical about homelessness, that fantastical realm where Helzabel dwelt was replaced by the realm of the streets.   And Helzabel became Molly Mortalis — suspicious not so much of Artists, but of people who had become homeless.   A similar character of a similar sentiment — in a wildly different world.

This called for wildly different lyrics.   And a major tune-up on the tune.   So without too much hemming or hawing. I came up with Midnight Screams.

I wonder how many people who read this will actually listen to Cloaks of Art and tell me how much, or how little, it resembles Midnight Screams?”  As for “Child of No Emotion,” the variant in Part One, I’m afraid you will never hear it.   That libretto, I fear, is gone.

But the music lives on.   These three abide — Book, Music, and Lyrics.  But the greatest of these is Music.

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Babylon Interactive

I want to let you all know that I’ve got a playlist now on SoundCloud that will automatically pull up the interactive score to the musical I’ve been working on.   Feedback is welcome — I’m not exactly sure how viable the instrumentation is.   If I want to easily translate it to a live pit orchestra with “real” musicians, this arrangement probably is not optimum.   It does have an interesting, ethereal sound to it, however.

The thing I keep struggling with is the awareness that when I “received” this music, I was walking about the various outdoor venues of the Berkeley, California area, fully believing that the correct orchestrations were as absolute as the music itself, and that all these sounds were coming from Beyond, having originated in a realm of musical consciousness far greater than the confines of my relatively minute human intellect.

The more powerful that memory, the greater the sense in which I feel this music is cheapened by the arbitrary addition of synthetic sounds only remotely related to the real live musicianship that seems to be called for.  On the other hand, when the music was originally being “given” to me, I “heard” it involving sounds that I identified as being of a timbre tantamount to that of a tenor saxophone and a viola soloist.   So my choice to employ tenor sax and viola in my arrangements was not arbitrary.   It’s an attempt to best replicate that which I have already heard. 

The problem with this is that, while it may indeed provide adequate background for singers presenting an interactive production online, it would be difficult to rectify those sounds as being suitable within the typical pit orchestra of a Broadway-type musical.  I could replace them with an increased focus on electric guitars and keyboard-synth, and thus render the interactive orchestration compatible with that of a real-live pit orchestra — one with a rock ensemble flair — but if I do so, I sacrifice the beauty of the expressive tenor sax and viola sounds, as authentically replicating the ethereal sounds that I heard.

One thing to note is that instruments like saxophones and violas are generally found as parts of larger jazz or classical ensembles.  While we do hear sax solos in jazz and other genres, we don’t often hear viola solos.  More often, the viola is a part of a string section.  So I might as well add a wind section, a string section, and a brass section for that matter, if I’m going to involve such instruments.  They sound out of character when played together without some bolstering or support from instruments of their kind.

However, all of this has to do with idiom.  That is, because the ear is not accustomed to hearing passages that involve a sax and a viola harmonizing in descending cascades such as we hear in Sirens of Hope, it rejects the application of those instruments as bizarre.  They don’t match the typical pairing of instruments — a single brassy wind like that, with a solitary stringed instrument in the midrange.  And yet, were we to have such instrumentalists in a pit with ample miking and the like, we could lift their sounds to levels akin the other players – the drummer, the bass, the guitarist and the like.

A final thing to consider is that when the music was being directed my way, it was not with the idea that human musicians were playing it in whatever Ethereral Realm of the Beyond it was emanating from.  Seriously!  The distinct impression I got was that it was being performed in such a way that transcended mere human musicianship.   And if this is the case, then certainly the employment of the software is excusable.  To the ears of the ethereal, human instruments, human devices, and human programs are all one and the same.  They are all equally non-divine.

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The Very Same World

I mentioned I’ve been working on putting together the “interactive score” to my musical Eden in Babylon.   Well, here’s the third number – it’s called “The Very Same World.”  I placed the lyrics below.

Andy Pope · The Very Same World

This must be the day
That the sages always say
Will emerge upon humanity in stages –
Something in the air
Has not one thing to compare
With the air of every other day till now.
Now must be the time
Some call supreme, some call sublime,
Approaching the apex of the ages,
The day when each and every one of us is in our prime,
The combined effect
May well redirect the world.

The Very Same World
That was for centuries
Riddled with travesties,
Hatred and war
Will by and by be
What she was meant to be,
Wholly, authentically
Healed at the core.
Her banners unfurled,
For all the earth to see
Let us give birth to the
World we adore.

This must be the start
Of an Era of the Heart,
Of a full and perfected new creation
All the saints in sight
Will in harmony alight
Upon a new and unexpected place of song
Thus will we ensure
That the faultless and the pure
Will stand fast in the face of violation
We will be strong when we are tested, and we will endure
When the trumpet sounds
And the scourge abounds
Let the clarion
Ring its call upon the world:

The Very Same World
Engulfed in tragedy
Will now see Majesty
Stand at her door.
The Very Same world
That had been torn apart
Will show her golden heart:
Let her heart pour
All over the world
And put an end to shame:
That world will bear the name:
World Beyond War.
That world will bear the name:
World Beyond War.

© 2019 by Andy Pope

 

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