Sloppy Gray

There’s a digital bird on the power line outside my window. Someone changed the chirping algorithm over the weekend. My scattered brain misses connections with my fingers. Spelling’s off, chunks missing. Every cell pleading Don’t Go this morning. Find Your Inner Idle.

Comcast wants 43 bucks or else. Or Else what? You’ll stop the incessant drivel you jam through the pipe forcing me to desperately go the The Guide to soften my incredulity?

I love the sloppy gray outside. The piano has that come hither look. There's a song to finish in the basement. Work will have to wait for me today.

The view won’t bother you much after awhile

The idea has been rattling around head for a while now: it’s time to make a new record. I’ve only made done this once and it was 25 years ago. You may recall that 1986 was the last year of vinyl. I look at my 12-inch LP (say what?) and think I may as well have recorded on a wax cylinder. That effort was a commercial flop because I could never get enough gigs to "push the product". But I have no regrets. As I’ve often said making a record is the most honest work I’ve ever done. There is something about the process of tuning and perfecting a recording that is difficult but very rewarding.

So I’ve started looking around for a studio. They run the gamut between $40/hour for in-home operations to Berkshire mountain retreats at more than double that rate. Initially I was tempted by the idea of finding a studio that screams musical retreat. There are many of these (check out the photo on the left). The thinking is that such bodacious surroundings offer that extra inspiration to round out the experience. But y’know what? – the time for inspiration is before you get in the studio. So now inclined to keep it closer to home, knuckle-down and get to work. I talked about the project with Eric Kilburn who runs Wellspring Sound (photo right). How about that panoramic view? Step inside and chat it up with Eric though and it’s hard to imagine a better place to record. I’m still going to do a little shopping but the more I look around the more anxious I am to get started.

Twists and Turns

Trying to create a new musical life for yourself isn’t easy. Every turn requires you to examine the goal. Is this a hobby, commercial venture, eventual work replacement? Am I looking for fame, fun, or fortune? For me the commercial aspect is close to nil. Fun and creative expression are at the top of the list. These days I’m trying to figure out who I want my musical self to be: a songwriter, recording artist, solo performer, part of a duet or band.

You can’t solve this identity crisis in a vacuum – you have to take in account our culture. What you want and what the culture can offer may be at odds. I got an email today from a guy who’s restarting a sixties band. I think he said it best .. "In a dead cultural landscape we feel like the old buffalo hunter dragging his gun around, wondering where the herd went. It's kind of a mail-order bride situation." (I’m still trying to figure out who ordered the bride – the hunter? the buffalo?) Anyway the point is that live music has lost its tingle. Most people can barely make the distinction between a live performer and an mp3 file.

I stopped playing guitar for the better part of 10 years. Then, a while back, I started playing again, wrote a couple of new songs, and starting doing some open mikes. In the last few months I upgraded to “real gigs” – 2 one-hour sets of yours truly doing about 70% original material. These can be daunting because in most places you have to beg for attention. To wit… the best part of my last gig was playing background music to a small group of diners. I thought things would improve in the second set when I expected folks from the adjoining bar to saunter over for a listen. Nyet. Instead I played my last 6 songs to an empty room (a very strange feeling). Now it could be that I lack the musical magnetism to encourage people to walk 20 feet to see a live performer but I don’t think so. It has more to do with the iPod Effect – music is everywhere. Music, especially, has ceased to become as special.

If you want to have a good listening crowd you need go the coffeehouse / folk festival route. As painful as an open mike can be, you are playing to a room of performers and songwriters and they are definitely paying attention. This positive is offset by the fact that you’ll only play 1 to 3 songs. The challenge for us singer/songwriters is to find the best of both worlds. Right now the closest you can get is to be a feature act at an open mike. I would like to invent something better.

Revival

Thought I might try breathing some new life into to this neglected blog by using it to chronicle my recent musical calisthenics. There are a couple of efforts going on. First, I've started returning to my familiar open mic haunts, Amazing Things and TCAN, and seeking out new ones. Also, a month ago I placed an ad in Craigslist (Singer/songwriter seeks musical partners) just to see what would happen.

The ad generated 5 responses that ran the gamut from rockers looking for something different to guys just tired of picking and strumming alone. I've only met up with two of them but both offered enjoyable jam sessions. Where it gets interesting is when you follow the thread of connections. My session with Mike led to two discoveries. The first was the regular open mic at Fireflys . I tried it out the following week. Great Bose sound system and a well-run event thanks to the regular host, Bruce Marshall. But if you're used to the hushed attention you get at a coffeehouse, the vibe you get at a bar is an acquired taste. Personally, I'm not used to having a TV over my head while I play so competing with a hockey game cramps my style a bit.

The second introduction I got at Mike's house is the duo known as Dagmar and as soon as I heard the tune on their home page my ears perked up. This is what I've been looking for amongst the acoustic set - a surprise, a little theater, tight performance, and, dare I say it, originality. The twin forces of Dagmar are Jim Bauer and Meghan McGeary. I won't attempt to describe them but do yourself a favor and search for them on YouTube. I played every clip I could find, bought their last CD, Door No. 2, and even had some back-and-forth emails with the misfits.

Run the movie forward. After a logistical nightmare of getting my kids to their respective team practices last night, I managed to get on the road by 5:30, setting my coordinates for the Tupelo Music Hall in Londonderry, NH. 75 minutes later I arrived, bladder-challenged but fully engaged. I've made the trip because I hear it's an excellent room and the feature tonight is, who else, Dagmar. The open mic is run by Robert Haigh who ran the venerable but long-defunct Old Vienna Kaffeehaus in Westboro, MA.

It was worth the long haul. Dagmar was brilliant. The open mikers represented the full spectrum - they always do - but I did notice one important difference: no one seemed nervous and everyone gave it their all. That is the thing that has been bothering me about many of these open mic venues - so many people get up there and assume the audience's patience is unlimited. They play 11 verses in mumbly, droning indifference, as if being on the stage is enough. Any why wouldn't they? After all, everyone gets applause no matter how lame or lackluster.

Maybe it's my job to get people to play their best, make songs dynamic, learn to get the most out of your guitar, punch it up, send your message. Play to publish.

Or not...

Russian Adoption Story - Bleak on Bleak

Russia suspended adoptions by Americans this week in reaction to the incident in which a woman from Tennessee sent her Russian-adopted child back to Moscow, unaccompanied, with a note that said "I no longer wish to parent this child". Several people have asked me what I think of this, since my wife and I adopted two older kids from Russia in 2003.

Let's start with the obvious: the choice Torry Hansen made is appalling on many levels but it is particularly inconceivable that she did not understand the most basic fact of any adoption: when you sign the papers you make a complete and irreversible commitment to be the child's parent. Even if her contention that the she was mislead is correct, the permanence of the adoption still rules. Find a therapist, look into medications. This is not Costco.

You have to put some blame on the adoption agency. The vetting process for adoptive parents is rigorous and lengthy. If done properly it should have flagged this woman as an unsuitable parent. I believe that the only good that may come out of this is a tightening of the requirements.

There's a lot of chatter about the general topic of international adoption but very little on the adoption of older children specifically. There is an enormous difference between adopting a baby and a child 5 or older. There is history and memory, not to mention the experience of several years in an orphanage. There has been a trend to expand the eligibility requirements beyond "traditional families" and I suspect it has been taken too far. For example, I came in contact with a single working woman planning to adopt 2 older Russian kids. Knowing what I know now about the time and energy required to put these kids on the right path I have to say this should not be allowed. As I understand it, Ms. Hansen was allowed to adopt this child with her mother. 'Nuff said.

As a warning, let's put that adoption agency out of business.

It's disheartening that one act of stupidity could have a major impact on the well-being of many children. If the suspension of adoptions lasts for any significant period, many children may lose the chance to finally get a safe, happy life in a family. I don't think Russia is completely wrong here but before they get all teary-eyed with national pride they should not lose sight of the facts. There are over 700,000 orphans in their country, mostly due to the dire economics that rank-and-file Russians find themselves in. Adoption by fellow countrymen is not an option. It's bad enough that the life expectancy of a Russian man is 58. Among many bleak statistics* about Russian orphans is the life expectancy of the ones who don't get adopted: 30.

So my reaction to this is don't forget about the waiting children. Anyone who has been inside a Russian orphanage is haunted by the ones left behind. By and large The U.S. and other first-world countries give these kids a life they will never have otherwise. That is all that matters.

*Within three (3) years of “aging out” of the system approximately 20% of Russian orphans will be in prison, 40% will be homeless and 33% will be unemployed. Is it any wonder that 15% of them (approximately 1,000 per year) will commit suicide before the age of eighteen (18). Among orphans in general there is a great tendency toward drug and alcohol abuse, crime and prostitution as they look for a way to escape and a means to survive. In Russia, sixty percent (60%) of the girls become prostitutes and 70% of the boys become criminals.

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Except for the car crash - great holiday!

It was an irritating blip in an otherwise successful Christmas. Once again Aly and Jack we're deliriously happy even though we are exiting the Santa stage. Happy, safe, curious, compulsive, exhausted. What else is there?

The short version is that there was a snowbank where a stop sign should be. More to the point, two back-to-back storms created one of those landscape-altering illusions that, in this case, hid the cross street ahead. Next thing I know, I'm looking stage right to see a GMC truck coming right at me. A millisecond later I am facing a new direction and my side curtains are deployed. No injury to yours truly (I was on my way to picking up the kids - thank God I wasn't on my way home).

This happened 2 days before Christmas. There's not much to say about because it's so absurd and because being hit from the side and spun around comes with it's own metaphor. Not much to add unless you know how to articulate disbelief.

I'm past having emotional attachment to cars but I rather liked my bright red Acura, with it's sleek lines and lack of car payments. For the last five days I've been wailing and gnashing over the replacement vehicle while driving a rented cruise ship - a Lincoln MKX. I appreciate that they filled up the gas tank but the swimming pool is empty and I can't find half of the shuffleboard equipment. They're very clever over there at Avis. They offer 2 kinds of cars - unnecessary luxury and embarrassing frugality. What self-respecting male with an ounce of testosterone left will say - "I'll take the Aspire" ?

So after days of obsessing over the cvalue of bluetooth, AWD, heated seats, keyless entry, decent gas mileage, new vs. used I stumbled of on a car that I think with suit me well (not telling). It's a relief to have this episode over and I'm looking forward to docking HMS Ostentatious at Port Avis this afternoon.

Internet Joy

Back in 1986 I made a vinyl LP called Dwellings. Yes, that was the year that CDs started to come out and, you're right, my timing was impeccable. Anyway, except for using the "vanity press" model, I followed a fairly traditional process.

• Spend a bunch of money to record in a 16-track analog studio
• Work with a graphic artist to produce the "camera-ready" cover
  
• Have a record plant produce a fixed number of platters based on my nail-biting estimate
• Attempt to recoup the money by selling records through gigs or shaming friends and family

The results were not good in my case. I did not sell enough alto cover the costs. Every time I moved, I ditched a couple of boxed of albums. Also I was disappointed at the amount of feedback I got.

Flash forward to the recent experience

• I recorded one song on my Mac in the basement. I think the quality of audio was quite acceptable.
• I scoured the Internet for images and used $99 image editing software to create an online poster which also included lyrics, an embedded mp3 player (free), notes, and a link with which to send comments
• I sent the link to selected friends

I've gotten more good feedback from this production than from the entire record way back. It's not the quality of the music that made the difference. This is the most perfect example I can imagine of how software and the Internet improve a process. Not only is it cheap and relatively easy to make and distribute music, you are asking very little of your audience. Click this to listen to one song - if you want to comment, click that. And because it's cheap, I can opt out of the whole commercial aspect and just make it about sharing music.

Sweet.

New Song From Left Field

Those who know my brand of angst may be aware that I've experienced the mother of all creative blocks on the songwriting front. It's been 15 years since I've come up with anything. In fact, I just stopped playing the guitar for a bunch of years and tried ramping up on the piano. Still no dice.

Then, about a month ago, I started to play the guitar again and before long I stumbled over the start of something. Two tortured weeks later (it used to be so easy) I wrestled it into the can. Check out Those Days Are Gone.

Note to Self

I found this note I wrote to myself buried in some papers on the piano

Note to Self:
Admire what you're trying to do with no map, no guide, no mentor in the wings.
Be mindful of a few reminders...
There are thousands of phrases that launch off the tongue. They can be taught synchronized swimming. Forget the end result. Go somewhere where moonlight lathers the path. Gather your wits. Don't give up. Don't contemplate for a minute that it is not attainable. Because the cost is much more than your creativity- it really is your belief system. The atom is the solar system. We are at our best when life passes through us.

Beyond Coincidence

I was was watching a movie, Kloya, on the indie channel yesterday, about a Czech man in his fifties who, through a serious of events, ends up caring for a 5-year old Russian boy. This is the second charming movie I've seen in a recent weeks that center's around a Russian boy (The other is The Italian which I also recommend). One of best things about Kolya is the music most of which, it turns out, was Dvorak. There was a gorgeous orchestral piece at the end of the film so I made sure I found it in the credits. It was Smetana's Ma Vlosk (My Country).

An hour later I was at my in-laws and I sat in the piano room listening to Joe play. Next to me there were 2 crates filled with CDs. I pulled out one from the back. .... Smetana, My Vlosk.

What are the chances? I'd say very close to zero. I'd say so minute that it begs another explanation. Just when you get comfortable in your virtual atheistic paradigm....

I immediately went to tell Terry of this bizarre experience. As I told the story a funny expression arrived on her face. She walked over to a pile of papers she had be straightening up and pulled out a medical bill....from Dr. Smetana.

What's it mean?

It's like Nature/Nurture, Chicken/Egg, Great Taste/Less Filling

For a couple of decades or so I have ruminated over the mystery of inspiration and the creative process. At the center of this conundrum is a fork in the road with one sign pointing toward the sky that says "Wait, it will come". The other sign is pointed at your head and says "Get to work". I've always taken the first path since I have had the experience of creating things that seem to have fallen from the heavens. But now that I haven't seen much celestial light for many years I'm inclined to whistle a new tune.

Some of my recent reading makes the case for finding a creative path by combining loose rules and hard work. This kind wacky purposefulness is probably exactly what I need but it would be a very new trick for this old dog. I would like to belive that bringing the artist's view to the forefront could create new habits and pathways. Imagine if you had an ongoing project of building a book of quirky observations, rhymes, metaphors, and catch phrases - not for any particular purpose, it's just what artist's do.

When I was in high school I figured out how to make multi-rack recording by bouncing tracks on a stereo reel-to-reel tape recorder. I'd play something into the left channel, then the left speaker and I would play a duet into the right channel and so on. I remember having a blast doing this. Some years ago I learned enough computer-based audio recording to put together some decent arrangements of songs that I play. The results are OK but I noticed that the mental process involved in this work tends to kill any creative inclinations. It would be like trying to write a song while calibrating a gas spectrometer. But it's not just a right/left brain phenomenon. The fact that you have ALL THIS POTENTIAL keeps you from entering through the proper doorway. Instead of building a song from a rhythm pattern or catch phrase or harmonic idea you tend to waste time experimenting with tuba sounds becuase you can. This is a shame since the potential of a home studio is so great. So the question is can there a way to touch the potential but not the 440 volt buzz kill? There has to be a method that works.

Sigmund Freud on the Irish

Ya gotta love this..\

"This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever."

- Sigmund Freud on the Irish

And here's an interesting comment (and coincidence, for me) that I found on Sheila O'Malley's Blog

From the introduction to a book of Irish short stories - intro written by Anthony Burgess (this is where I originally came upon this quote from Freud - which I had never heard before) -

"One of [Freud's] followers split up human psychology into two categories - Irish and non-Irish. The Irish, like the Neopolitans, are not sure what truth is, and they have a system of logic which defies logic. They have something in common with Chekhov's Russians, and it is no accident that many of the stories here will seem Chekhovian. I was taking a bath in a Leningrad hotel when the floor concierge yelled that she had a cable for me. 'Put it under the door,' I cried. 'I can't,' she shouted. 'It's on a tray.' There is a deep logic, or epistemology, there which is far from absurd. The Irish and the Russians have one way of looking at entities (the entity in this instance was a cable-on-a-tray) and the rest of the world another."

There is a sense that Freud had, too, that the Irish, when in psychic trouble, go to poetry, go to storytelling, go to escapism - they have no interest in picking apart their own brains.

Peering into Macworld

The idea of buying a Mac for my next laptop has been buzzing in my head for a while now. As an entirely practical matter the concept is viable since you can now run Windows on the thing through BootCamp or Parallels. What's even more intriguing is not having to run Windows. It's not really about the computer, is it. Definitely a life thing. It's all that such a change represents...

1. Apple has Buzz!. People camped out to get the iPhone. The only line in the Microsoft world is the Vista return line
2. Macs are the tools of artists and musicians so its only logical that owning one puts you in that group
3. It's beautiful, shiny and new. No Windows laptop is going to give you that little rush
   
4. It says I'm not from around here! Well, it would in the my world
5. It also says The change has begun and nothing sounds sweeter than that right now

This flirtation is just an act in a larger play that stages a battle between two forces.
In this corner, wearing black trunks, and weighing, like alot - is Responsible Man. Business owner, father, serious homeowner and all-round model citizen
And in that corner wearing, actually, no trucks. is California Dreamer, the blogging artiste.

Nasha Semya

Take the elevator down from a Moscow Hotel room. Walk gently through the lobby (remember you're holding a five year old). On the street take the car down the road for four years and here you are.

I know where we can get a large Mission Accomplished banner that nobody's using and we could certainly hang it in the upstairs of our house. Aly and Jack are safe and sound and sleep like angels. We left the orphanage four years ago today and two frightened people began a whole new world (come to think of it so did the kids). But now they thrive.

But that positive light filters through a gauze of exhaustion. We have never been so stressed out. Too much business, family, life. Too many notes. My whole focus lately to to find the creative solution to THAT problem. I just need to do one more clever thing.

Could Microsoft Become Irrelavent*?

I'm a a bit slow on the uptake so I may be a late arrival to this realization but I suddenly see how the use of computers could change in the very near future. The standard for many years has been to load up with Microsoft products in order ensure compatibility. Now there may be an appealing set of alternatives thanks to the convergence of 4 trends

• Web 2.0. The maturity of Web 2.0 means that there will be no down side to running applications inside a browser. We already see context-sensitive menus, drag-and-drop, and a host of other features once the exclusive domain of locally installed apps.
• VMWare. You no longer have to select your operating system based on the applications you run. Now you can run Windows in a Parallels session on a Mac or use VMWare on a Linux machine.
• Connectivity. I think we can now presume that Internet connectivty is always available so why do we need to save data locally? If fact, maybe the standard should be to save on the network and backup locally.
• Terminal Services. Looks to me like every OS sports a Windows-friendly remote desktop client. So if you were totally sold on running, say, Ubuntu Linux on your laptop but balked on your reilance on Quickbooks, a painless work-around could be to set up a terminal server that runs Quickbooks (and any other Windows-only program you fancy).

There is something very appealing about this model where the configuration of your computer is incidental to the data. The browser rules and connectivity trumps format.

*Can someone explain why the vowel between the l and v in relevent is not the same as in irrelavent. In fact the definition is \Ir*rel"a*vant\, a. Not relevant;

Day in the life

• Remote session to check new client's server. Not lookin' too good... 5 year old server- bonjour?
  
• Keep trying to set up Google AdWords. They make it hard to take your money
• Finishing up the head count for Terry's birthday party
• Piano tuner is showing up today. Kirk's a great guy but I won't be able to chat about our common ground
• Snuck in a bike ride mid-morning. 13.4 miles. My average is 14.1 mph - slower than shit but a lot better than it used to be
• FedEx delivered the 2 switches I ordered but where the H-E-Double hockey sticks are the 2 UPSs?
• Buying 5 servers from a video game company. Awesome deal and I've probably got 3 or 4 resold at a profile. Lovin' email
• Finally got the new client set up on Postini with his whopping one mailbox
• Speaking of Postini - it used to be so easy - set it up and people go wow/thanks. Now they're all. like, wait/problem!

no wonder i'm losing it....

Bachelor Fodder

Terry picked a heck of a week to go to Texas. It's one thing to be left with the basic care and feeding of The Units but this is the week when the schools cram in all the special events. Yesterday was Crazy Hair Day for Jack. Today was Aly's State Fair at 8:30 this morning. Tomorrow is Pajama Day and the next day is a birthday party. Underneath my grumbling, I suppose this increases my appreciated for the insanity of Terry's parental life. It'll be good to have you back, Terr. You are coming back, right? Terry? Honey? Hello?

It's been fun connecting with the video call each night. It's funny that such high technology yields such crappy results. Looks like the video from Apollo 7. The audio is scratchy and way out of synch. I guess today's video call is like cranking up the Victrola 100 years ago.

This is Day Three of my solo parenting gig and, surprisingly no one has perished, the kids have made it to school fully clothed, and I haven't had to call in supplemental support. On the other hand, it's a long way to Friday Night.

Russia Suspends Foreign Adoptions

I heard the story on NPR going to work the other morning. Russia has effectively halted adoption of children by foreigners by implementing a new registration policy for adoption agencies. We were already familiar with the real reason which is a growing nationalism that breeds resentment in this area. Though I'm beginning to understand what it's like to be ashamed of your country, it's impossible to imagine what the Russians have been through. But this is a bad sign because it places political and cultural idealism over compassion for human beings in need.

We got a little taste of this during the last trip in 2003 when our facilitator, Tatiana, got into an altercation with one of the caretakers at the orphanage. I remember the caretaker said, "You're taking away all our best children". Tatiana was very upset about this attitude because she knew that foreign adoption was the best (possibly only) option for these kids - especially the older ones.

According to the story the situation is now even worse with nearly 800,000 orphans overloading the system. They brought home the point that these children are not orphaned in the classic sense. Most of their birth parents are still alive. It's often the deadly embrace of poverty and alcohol that eventually puts them there as it did for Alyona and Serozha (Jack).

The thought of so many kids suddenly having far fewer options is heart breaking. To this day I think about the kids standing despondently in the doorway while we dressed our children for their trip to the US. What will happen to them?

It dawned on me the other day that our domicile possesses enough character and standing to warrant a name, if we wanted to go that route. This is dicey territory, putting a little sign in your driveway that announces to passersby that these are no ordinary digs - this joint's got a name, a proud name - Bumblebee Farm !
I used to live on a gentleman's farm with the unfortunate name The Snuggery. Please.
There are patterns that are generally used for naming a property. Combining an appealing word with a terrain word is popular - Hobbit Cove, Shepard's Glen, Windswept Farm, Sandy Cove. If you're lucky enough to have a name like Snow or Green you're pretty much all set with SnowScape or Green Acres. If you're a Rabinowitz, you'll have your work cut out for you.
We could always go with a suggestion made years ago for a farm I lived on - Sugrue-La, but at the moment we're down to two choices. Terry's inclined to go with Wise Acres while my heart is set on Rope's End.