More gun killings in the US of A. This time not too far from where the California Jenkins people live. It’s hard to make sense of what is happening in the US right now. The picture is so complex and is constantly being distorted by bad reporting and bad politics.

It looks like the recent shooters owned legal guns. I support better gun laws but they might not have helped in this case. What would have? The futile question. Eileen said she couldn’t imagine why someone would go on a rampage in the recent setting. I said that unfortunately I could.

Part of the problem is the nature of an open society. In an open society people are inevitably vulnerable. Societies that close down (as many Western ones are doing) may give a certain kind of safety but it is the safety of the jail cell.

I resist the idea that words alone can cause people to do terrible things. However, ideas themselves can. In my way of thinking anyone who ends up taking another human life is acting in an inhuman way. But this is not a realistic notion in a society where people are often forced between two bad decisions (allow harm to come to the innocent or harm the guilty). Or worse, are forced into making grave mistakes.

We have a young man in our choir (high school age) who is facing life threatening health stuff around his heart. He was at rehearsal last night. Sunday morning after he walked out of the pregame, I told the choir that he was ill and that I wanted people to keep an eye on him when he walks out of rehearsal.

Last night, I asked him (in front of the choir) how he was doing. He said he was scheduled with a doctor’s appointment soon. It was good to have him alive Sunday and last night. It was also good to surface the tension into conversation.

I bring this up to counter the inevitable hysteria one runs into these days.

People are crazy anxious and jump from one extreme expression to another. Here is a young high schooler who is old enough to be justifiably frightened by the problems in his body. He is facing his fear with a calm and bravery I can only admire.

I guess it’s reality versus the reality brand foisted on us by political rhetoric and social and journalistic media. A difficult terrain to deal with, but doable when one remembers the real stuff some people are having to go through.

The Toll of Violent Anti-Abortion Speech – The New York Times

I used to read the Nation when I subscribed to magazines and read them. Katha Pollit, the author of this article, was one of their columnists I never failed to read. Interested to see her on the pages of the NYT.

Little Onion Tarts With Gorgonzola and Walnuts Recipe – NYT Cooking

I think this idea is cool. I will have to do it sometime. Last night Eileen made me a faux chicken pot pie as she made herself turkey pot pies. Yum.

I have been working on Bach’s Prelude in F minor BWV 534 for a few days. I was thinking I might need it for the postlude next Sunday. I mistakenly thought that my scheduled postlude was sort of ruled out because the hymn it was based on was one I chose as a last minute substitution for a wrong hymn in last Sunday’s bulletin.

But I was wrong. So I can keep the schedule postlude and work on Bach for another week before scheduling it. I decided that I wanted to get some more meaty material into my organ practice. That’s why I started working on the Bach.

But since my scheduled organ music for this Sunday is not that difficult, I took advantage of this fact and stayed entirely away from church yesterday (playing a little hookey from organ practice).

Instead I finished the quilling step of refurbishing my old harpsichord. This step involves inserting a quill (plectrum) into the jack, trimming it so that it just touches the string and plopping down in its slot.

For the next step I need a hand drill. Ours died recently. So another of my goals yesterday was to visit at least one local thrift shop and look for a used drill. Eileen and I did this. No dice.

They did have a used small floor sander for 7 bucks. But it didn’t seem to be what I needed. I will be using the drill with a sanding device to shorten the jacks. That’s the next big step.

I did find a couple pieces of music to buy. The book pictured above was owned by the former Organ Prof at Hope, Roger Davis.

There are a few marks in it that show that someone had taken a few lessons using it, possibly from Davis. This is a bit odd because Davis’s claim to fame was penning a respectable organ study book himself.

Today doesn’t look too bad. I have 2 classes to play for, 2 meetings at church, and an evening rehearsal. No hookey today.

In the last week or so I have had some very nice things happen to me. Of course, i enjoy having the Jenkins clan around. I am sometimes amazed at how interesting they are and fun to talk to.

While they were visiting someone found John Manning on Facebooger.

I knew this man back when we were living in Oscoda, probably around 1975 if not before that time. John told me then that his dwarfism would limit his life span and that he did not expect to make it to his thirties. He was a gentle insightful presence and I remember fondly many chats with him and visiting him and his family at their home in Oscoda.

What a gas to find out that he is alive. Not only that but if he’s half as happy as his Facebooger pics make him out, he is thriving.

I  think this is him and his kids. Wow. How cool is that? I suppose it makes sense that medical science in the 70s would be this improved and allow John a normal life span. Happy story.

Then there’s this guy, David Barber (on the right) . Dave has to be one of the friends with whom I have kept contact the longest.

He has always loomed large in my personal story. I can think of memory after memory of our friendship dating back to the 60s. In the last few years we have reconnected and seen each other and our significant others (that would be Paul, on the left above, and Eileen) in person a few times sharing meals in restaurants and memories.

I woke up this morning and found that Dave had posted a sweet tribute to me. What can I say?

This is all so sentimental it feels strange. But it’s a good balance to all my self pity and moaning and groaning that I do here.

Notes on the China I’m Leaving Behind – The New York Times

It’s interesting to read about how people are coping with China.

My Life as a Muslim in the West’s ‘Gray Zone’ – The New York Times

I heard Laila Lalami interviewed on a BBC news podcast and was so impressed with her I ran her references down. Very glad to see her publishing on the pages of the New York Times as well as the Nation. She has some sensible things to say about what is happening in the world today.

Margaret Atwood: By the Book – The New York Times

I am a total fan of this writer.

John Irving’s ‘Avenue of Mysteries’ – The New York Times

Another book on my to read list.

Israel Aims to Recreate Wine That Jesus and King David Drank – The New York Times

I seem to remember that adding water to wine in the Gospel stories was rationalized by my Dad as needed because the wine was so thick. No mention of that here. I probably made it up. Memory is a wonderful malleable thing.

Laquan McDonald and the ‘System’ – The New York Times

Charles Blow is always worth reading.

Blood Pressure, a Reading With a Habit of Straying – The New York Times

I found this very interesting since I am on of the those who are more in between than easily diagnosed. Blood pressure was down yesterday. This morning it was high on the first take. Half an hour later it had fallen down to 134/89. No matter what, I think I need to keep trying to lose some pounds. That would definitely help my health I am sure.

I used some of my morning blogging time working on my harpsichord. I now have about half of the jacks quilled. This means I carefully look at the little plectra things.

First I try to determine the top from the bottom of these things. Not that easy.

Then I take a jack. The above pic  is of the remaining jacks to be quilled.

Put the plectra in the jack and then hold it upside down on this block of wood and slice off the end at an angle. Then I drop it in the slot and make sure it just brushes the string.

I have been listening to Mendelssohn piano trios this morning while working. I miss playing harpsichord, especially the French Baroque and English/Dutch Renaissance music. Bach feels as nice on piano as harpsichord.

I have found a new app for listening to music across my devices.

It’s only free for the first 250 tracks. I mostly was looking for an easy way to listen to specific music on my tablet. Songza is nice but I like calling up particular pieces and it doesn’t work so good for that. Spotify charges more to be tablet friendly.

Yesterday I tried to use My Music Cloud with my tablet and it kept loading and loading even after a restart. I gave up. Checked it this morning and the music that I had uploaded was there. Yay!

I have no plans to  upgrade this app. It seems to me 250 tracks is plenty. Much of the music I listen to is made up of long tracks. Hah! And I can always swap stuff out so that I can use my table (and even phone) to listen to music sometimes.

Netflix, Amazon Prime, or Hulu: Which Offers the Best Deal? — The Motley Fool

It looks like Netflix is probably the best for us. That’s what we use.

Scientists Link Moon’s Tilt and Earth’s Gold – The New York Times

I love shit like this.

25 Outstanding Podcasts for Readers

I now have an app that works for me on my table for podcasts.

Somebody must have decided that blue is the color for apps, eh?

A Slippery Number: How Many Books Can Fit in the New York Public Library? – The New York Times

I find it amazing that this great library has still digitalized its entire catalog.

BBC Radio 4 – Bookclub – Downloads

This looks like a good podcast. I got it from the list linked above.

I walked to my Mom’s nursing home yesterday. I love taking pictures with my phone.

As I was walking taking these pics, I was reminded of doing the same thing when I was a young man. It’s something I like to do, I guess.

It was a beautiful brisk late fall day.

Earlier in the day, I had decided to set up things to work on my harpsichord.

After reviewing the instructions, I think I know the next step I need to take.

I was very proud of myself for finding the X-acto knife and blades in the mess in my basement workroom. I will need these for the next step.

I was very relieved to find all the material was still there in my box of stuff to upgrade the jacks.

I found the special magnifying glass I had purchased for this project. The block of wood is necessary to cut plectrum (the tiny thing that plucks the string).

I hope I’m not jinxing myself by writing about this on my blog. I want to chip away at this project and see if I can get my harpsichord back!

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjCvJ6S07XJAhXFNSYKHcRfC8EQFggdMAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.mymusiccloud.com%2F&usg=AFQjCNEoPoNdlHBAMUO09kmY8fxRzHUFuA&sig2=HCGXV7BJG3KRnnJ4HskaVw

When discussing the ease with which music can now be made, Tony Wesley standing in my dining room recently used the phrase, “barriers of access.” As in “there are no longer barriers of access to people who want to make art or presumably computer programs”(Tony’s area of skill).

At the time I wondered if musical literacy was a “barrier of access.” I am exhilarated that people can make art and music easily with technology. But at the same time I have dismay that skills, literacy and even competency itself might be seen as a “barrier of access.”

In this same conversation, Tony pointed out to me that his work was, indeed, an act of creating, of art. He was responding to something I had said earlier.

I launched, probably too quickly, into sketching for him some of the ideas behind my beloved Glass Bead Game by Hesse. How Hesse makes up a tale where at the end of history, all art has been made. All that is left is the beauty of the correlation of existing works of human endeavor: art, architecture, science, philosophy, to name a few. In my feeble non tech mind, I saw computer programming a bit like this. I was paying it a compliment that was probably inscrutable by referring to a old dated book.

In Hesse’s book, the supreme Magister Ludi, Joseph Knecht, rises through the rigorous order of Glass Bead Game players to become the highest master.

He then throws it away and unthinkably and unprecedentedly resigns his post. He is the supreme artist who must give up everything for his art.

At least that was partly my reading of this book in my late teens. Now I read it differently but still with affection.

This morning I picked up Donald Hall’s book on poets, Their Ancient Glittering Eyes. Hall’s a funny poet on my horizon. He taught here in Michigan.

Some of his poems are situated here. Not sure if he wrote them here or after he quit his job to move to New Hampshire.

I just counted the books by Hall sitting on my shelf. Counting Their Ancient Glittering Eyes the number is thirteen. It’s very possible there are more unshelved and buried with my unsorted books.

And I have an ebook of Essays after Eighty by Hall. The kindle reader on my tablet says I’m on page 122 of 134. I should probably finish this before starting another book of prose by Hall.

However, the inscriptions at the beginning of Their Ancient Glitter Eyes are lovely. I especially like two of them.

Hall quotes from Yeats’ “Lapis Luzuli.”

There, on the mountain and the sky,

On all the tragic scene they stare.

One asks for mournful melodies;

Accomplished fingers begin to play.

Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes,

Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay.

I just reread Yeats’ poem and liked the phrase that titles today’s blog post.

I like the idea that old men at the top of a mountain on the carving are listening to one of their company play music. Yeats starts the poem talking about hysteria and how it longs to quench gaiety. Kind of like now.

The second quote is from a short story by Henry James, “The Middle Years.”

We work in the dark—we do what we can—we give what we have. Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art.

Henry James, The Middle Years

This sums up for me how I feel about my work. Doubt and passion and task. The lovely madness of art.

I’m feeling a bit better this morning. Fam is still here. I went out and got bagels and lox for breakfast. The Good Earth also had a few gluten-free options. Emily said the bun I brought her was still warm and fresh.

Most of the crew went away, probably to the Peanut Store. I was talking to Ben this morning and commenting that he had been visiting this house (and the Peanut Store) since he was a child and how cool that was.

A Storied Bookstore and Its Late Oracle Leave an Imprint on Islamabad – The New York Times

This bookstore (and the owner) sound amazing. I noted some of the titles he recommended. Mark has already pirated one of the titles, “Fallen Leaves” by Will Durant.

France’s Ambassador ‘Knows How to Throw an Elbow’ – The New York Times

Great article. Original headline was better: France’s Ambassador Has Shiny Cuff Links but Also Sharp Teeth.

Donald Trump’s Campaign Takes a Darker Turn – The Atlantic

I don’t pay too much attention to the Trump phenomenon. But the darkness gathers.

How Google Inspired Raspberry Pi’s $5 Computer – Digits – WSJ

Tony Wesley (who is visiting and is practically a family member being Ben’s boyfriend) mentioned this to me yesterday. After finding this article on my Google Newsfeed, I asked him where he first heard of it. He couldn’t remember. Several sources at once.

Well, it’s 10:30 or so on Thanksgiving and I’m finally getting around to blogging. I got up early and made pies. Unfortunately, I grabbed the wrong canned milk and put condensed sweetened milk in the pumpkin pie instead of evaporated milk.Eileen and I tasted the pies and it’s edible, a bit sweet.

Eileen got up 8ish and agreed to watch the pies while I went to church and practiced organ. I did this because we are hosting my brother and his extended fam and I think it would be rude to go away and practice after they arrive.

We weren’t sure when people were arriving. I called Mom to let her know that the meal time was still being negotiated and would probably be around 1:30 PM. She said she wasn’t doing so well and might not be able to come over. I told her I would call after Mark and Leigh arrived. By this time, we knew that Mark and Leigh were on their way and would be here by noon. I called the rest of the crew to get an idea of what was going with them. Ben and Tony were almost to Grand Rapids (which puts them ahead of Mark and Leigh). Emily didn’t pick up.

One of the reasons I cooked yesterday and this morning was to get out of the way so that people could use the kitchen and the oven today. I think they’re planning on doing some reheating. But at any rate we are good to go.

I had my stuffing and gravy for a late breakfast. Evil me. It’s great. Eileen suggested that I write down how I made it, since I improvised it.

Here’s what I wrote, if you’re interested.

1 Bag of Pepperidge Farm Stuffing (Herb?)

1 box of wild rice

1 C chopped pecans

1 package fresh mushrooms

2 cloves garlic

4 slices of onion

1 poblano pepper, seeded and cut in strips

prepare wild rice (bring to a boil and cook until desired consistency of rice is achieved)

melt butter in pan

saute sliced mushrooms and remove from pan, cool and chop

add olive oil to a pan large enough for all ingredients

brown garlic in olive oil to flavor

remove garlic, cut up when cool

cook onion and pepper in oil

while onion is cooking, melt butter in another pan, add pecans and cook

prepare stuffing according to package instructions

add mushrooms, garlic, cooked wild rice, butter roasted pecans

Can’t quite remember how I did this. May have added liquid to everything but the dry stuffing and then taken off the burner, added stuffing and moistened as needed.

After taking my blood pressure (high again) and reading James Joyce, I repaired to the kitchen to prepare vegetarian dishes for tomorrow.

I have decided to make a squash/kale thingo.

I had to roast the kale and the squash separately. And just like the old cooking shows, here’s the final dish.

I also made stuffing this morning.

And gravy.

Wickedly, I had stuffing and gravy for breakfast.

I did all my cooking listening to the Spotify playlist I made about the Syrian/Lebanese lullaby.

I tried to embed my playlist above. Not sure how that will work. But I do love this music.

I decided not to throw myself in composing for this dance. Although I only have two scheduled things today (my morning ballet class and the evening choir rehearsal), I think I need to “husband my resources” as they say.

I am feeling more and more isolated these days. The things that interest me do not interest many other people. However I am passionate about what I love. I guess I just don’t fit in a Facebooger world. Not exactly a bad thing.

For example one of the reasons I put my food pics here were the memes circulating on my Facebooger feed discouraging people from posting pics of their thanksgiving food.

Also, the memes that I posted (that I thought had pertinent content) seemed to either annoy people or bore people (“Ho hum”).

Family can always check up on me here. And I haven’t sworn it off yet.

Broke down and ordered a copy of the Oxford edition of Finnegans Wake yesterday. I think it cost me $16 including S & H. I would like a hard copy where the pagination matches the scholarship.

I broke down and began rereading Mishima’s Spring Snow  recently. I did so because I was interesting in the last volume of his tetralogy, The Sea of Fertility, The Decay of the Angel.

These books remind me of Hesse quite a bit. He’s another love of mine.

An Open Letter to Congress: Do Not Cede to Fear | The Nation

I began my day listening to the daily BBC news podcast. They interviewed Laila Lalami about the letter that she and other writers had written to congress. I thought she was brilliant, but I had a heckuva time running it down. Like so many left of center concepts it didn’t seem get any play on the usual news outlets. O look! It’s in The Nation! Sooprise, sooprise.

A Chill Grips a Michigan Haven for Syrian Families – The New York Times

Sad and sad. Good old Bloomfield Hills.

Take A Facebook Quiz, Give Up All Your Data For Free – Forbes

Remember, if the product is free, you’re the product.

Yesterday, daughter Elizabeth sent me a link to this video. You may remember I was casting about for some Syrian music to use for a final dance project for one of the Modern dance students. I found this melody rather haunting and scratched down a few of the notes to use in class that day.

Although I am improvising music for the various dance projects in this class, this one has caught my imagination.

I am thinking of actually writing out the music for this. Working title (taken from the translation of the lullaby): “Each time the wind blows.”

I have spent some time this morning studying this melody and the words.

I have found out that when transliterating the Arabic into English the numbers stand for sounds and letters that do not exist in English.

Thus in the follow phrase,

و اللي حبك بيبوسك اللي بغضك شو بيترقى
Wili y7ibak biybosak eli b3’6k sho biytra2a
The one who loves you shall kiss, and the one who hates you will go away

2 = أ (hamza) – glottal stop
3 = ع (‘ain) – a “choked” letter sounding like an “a” you can’t represent with the English alphabet
7 = ح (haa) – sounds like an aspirated “h” like the “y” when whispering “yes”.

I found this info here on a word reference forum. It’s probably correct.

When pillaging other cultures for musical materials, it pays to walk as carefully and as lightly as possible.

I hope I’m not blundering in too badly by appropriating some of this music for a piece. Elizabeth also linked in this music.

This greatly simplifies what the woman is singing in the video. I spent some time with this transcription this morning, but returned to something more like what she sings.

I submitted a bio and a head shot to the Dance Department yesterday (after running both of them past Eileen).

This head shot is cropped down from this pic.

It was taken in Beijing with Alex being very very new at the time.

Here’s the bio.

Doing these things is no fun. I tried to write a bio that reflected me as accurately as I could. Granted I may not be what people think of as a “composer,” but it sounds less childish than what I truly think: that I like to make up music.

I just checked and there’s no sign of any pianists on the Hope College Dance Department Web site. Not surprising, but it confounds me how people continue to be stuck in old paradigms of finishing stuff instead of taking advantage of the flexibility of the internet and posting what they have and continually adjusting it.

Anti-Muslim Is Anti-American – The New York Times

I basically agree with Blow, but go a step further and find that nationalism/jingoism of any sort is anti-human.

Artist’s Death Sentence Follows a String of Harsh Punishments in Saudi Arabia – NYT

The madness continues. Important to distinguish between levels, I guess. The Shariah of Saudi Arabia is not the complete madness of the terrorists.

I dreamed about my harpsichord last night. For those of you not up to speed about this, when I was a young man of 17, I used  my college money ($600) and bought a harpsichord kit from Zuckermann around 1969. With the help of some friends and one friend’s carpenter Dad, we assembled the kit and I played the harpsichord for many years. I even studied harpsichord in school and performed harpsichord solos in several of my under graduate degree recitals.

A couple years ago, I decided I should upgrade my jacks (the thing that plucks the strings). I purchased an upgrade kit and began working. But for some reason or another I abandoned the project. Since then my harpsichord has been sitting uselessly in our dining room.

In my dream last night, one of the people who helped me assemble it originally was disparaging my attempts (in the dream) to work on it. I got the impression he thought it wasn’t worth messing with.

Admittedly it’s not a fancy harpsichord. But it fits me (outdated, old and kind of primitive). I would love to have it back in working condition.

I got the idea this morning laying in the dark that maybe I should consider completing each jack one at a time instead of doing each operation to all jacks then moving to the next operation. I pulled out all the material I bought to fix the thing

and also the instructions.

We’ll see if such a procedure is even possible with the materials and tools I have.

Yesterday I upgraded to Windows 10.

At first it seemed like a mistake. The computer crawled. I had many blank screens and suddenly the computer no longer talked to the big monitor (that we use for tv viewing).

Yikes. However with a couple of restarts everything started checking out okay. I believe the computer is even running a bit quicker. Wouldn’t that be nice?

I am working with students in the Modern Class on their final project. Julie has divided them into teams. Each team is to develop a short dance based on an idea that they get to come up with. There is an older visiting prof from Japan in this class. Julie allowed her to work by herself. She has worked with Syrian refugees and was very upset after the recent Paris incident. She has developed a dance about the journey of refugees from Syria.

I think it would be cool if I could find some traditional Syrian music to incorporate in her dance. I know I have a book somewhere of world music that might contain some Syrian or at least Arabic music. I spent a good of time this morning looking for it. No dice.

I’m hoping to find something on the interwebs after blogging.

Democrat Wins Mississippi House Race After Drawing Straw – The New York Time

They drew straws after a tie. Wow.

Greek New Testament Papyrus Is Discovered on eBay – The New York Times

This seems to be an important papyrus since it comes not from the usual codex (book like) source but from a scroll.

Winnie-the-Pooh’s Skull: Relic of Inspirational Bear Goes on Display – The New York Times

I didn’t know Winnie the Pooh was based on a real bear.

We had some nasty driving on our way back from Unadilla yesterday. Roads were snow covered and slippery almost all the way to Grand Rapids. It added an hour to our travel time and fatigued the driver (me).

Today is my Mom’s 89th birthday. We have made arrangements to have lunch with her at her nursing home. We stopped at Miejer last night and picked up some treats for everyone in her lunch room (Mom paid for this).

While I was at my brother’s house, both he and Eileen thought I was working too much. Eileen saw me writing and studying and commented it looked like I was working. It actually was what I do almost every morning. Mark saw me preparing some choral elaborations (using his midi keyboard) and thought it looked like work. Eileen said that she thought the choral elaborations were play, but the study work. Maybe Mark would have seen the other way, eh?

While working on the choral elaborations, I was puzzled by one of the hymns, “Awake, arise, lift up your voice” (Hymnal 1982, #212). What caught my eye was this stanza:

O Dead arise! O Friendless stand
by seraphim adored!
O Solitude again command
your host from heaven restored!

O Solitude? Wow. Addressing the deity of the Judeo-Christian tradition (which is actually has more than one personality and I don’t mean the Trinity thing) as Solitude (capital S) sent me scurrying this morning to do a bit of research.

The hymn was drawn from Christopher Smart’s 32 stanzas of poetry in his poem/hymn, “Hymn XI Easter Day.” It was first used as a congregational hymn in Songs of Praise (1925). There it has six stanzas. The hymn in Hymnal 1982 has 5.

I looked over the poem and its two hymnal versions this morning. F. Bland Tucker adapted the text for the Hymnal 1982. He did a good job. He omitted 2 of the Songs of Praise choices and added a new one that clarified the section that caught my imagination.

Both hymnal versions add weird punctuation that affects the meaning. Capitalizing much more (including Solitude) than the original and in the case of the Hymnal 1982 adding exclamation points.

For some reason, even though I have doubts about the existence of God, it was comforting to me to see her/him identified as “Solitude.” Solitude is definitely something I treasure and seek out. It is an antidote for many things including popular culture. I seem to be losing more and more interested in the latter.

It’s been good to get away. There is snow on the ground this morning in Unadilla. Not much. I didn’t notice it until after Mark and Leigh were both up. I think they have stuff to do today. They aren’t usually up this early, except Leigh walks through to take the dog outside.

I finished Beckett’s essay on Finnegans Wake this morning. I am drawn to Beckett. It might be time for me to buckle down and read his novels. I have been dabbling in Molloy. Beckett gets despair right. He often also gets redemption right. I find his work beautiful. I can still recall the emotion of watching John Hurt in London doing the play, “Krapp’s Last Tape.” Many moments of beauty in this work and in that performance.

I feel strongly Beckett’s sense of solitude and pondering. I often feel isolated. It seems a pity to rely on Eileen to bear the brunt of my personality at all times. I am learning to be quieter. It’s a bit sad, but I have a tendency to watch the effect I have on others and try to adjust. This is what it’s like for me to be passionate and 64, I guess. Keep the mental volume turned down in the presence of others. Allow the freedom of thought and imagination in my music, reading and study. I am definitely an anachronism these days, preferring beauty and even profundity instead of the quick fix of the internet and the mobile phone.

I received an email from the Dance Department yesterday requesting a bio and a head shot for the web site (speaking of quick fixes). I find it discouraging that they are addressing the “recognition” aspect of my and others’ work without a whisper about what is happening in the area of remuneration. Sigh. Double sigh really because I was looking forward to having more of my time for myself.

But I don’t know for sure if they are going to use me next term or not.

I laboriously sought out online translations of several passages in Italian and Latin by Dante that Beckett quotes in his essay on Finnegans Wake. I found a blog post about this very concept which was very helpful. I carefully copied the translations into the essay. Basically Beckett observes that Dante cobbled together Italian dialects to make a new Italian that “could have been spoken by an ideal Italian who had assimilated what was best in all the dialects of his country, but which in fact was certainly not spoken nor ever had been.”  He compares this, of course, to the way Joyce remakes language and frees it from the “danger… in the neatness of identifications” (First sentence in the essay linked above by Beckett).

Joyce’s free wheeling beauty and humor is in direct opposition to the glibness and quick fix of much of what passes for intellectual and artistic life these days or at least the stuff I come in contact with. When Beckett writes that you, the reader, “are not satisfied unless form is so strictly divorced from content that you can comprehend the one almost without bothering to read the other,” he could easily be talking about the Internet although he was writing in 1939.

He goes on to talk about a “rapid skimming and absorption of the scant cream of sense…” and “dribbling comprehension.” This all sounds sadly familiar.

Sorry to be such a downer today. There is really a Mozartian joie de vivre to both Joyce and Beckett.

It just stands in such stark contrast to the vapidity I deal with on a daily basis.

We are officially out of town visiting my brother in Unadilla. As you can see above we are not far from Hell.

Appropriately enough I spent some of my morning using Google to translate snippets of Dante, Samuel Beckett uses to talk about Joyce.

I love Google. Just plot some words in the search engine and type translate and chances are, if you keep your wits about you, you can make sense of phrase in other languages.

I spent a long leisurely time this morning with Finnegans Wake. That was good since I skipped it entirely yesterday.

I’m not feeling the intense relief I felt on  my last two visits to Mark. I ascribe this to the fact that though I am stressed I am not as stressed as I was at the end of the summer.

I drove over to Chelsea and practiced organ yesterday after we arrived. I will do so again today. Working on pieces by Sowerby, Alec Wyton, and Alan Ridout for the next two Sundays. I found myself on the phone with the office manager at Grace pointing out to her errors we noticed in the psalm on Wednesday.

Emotional distance is hard to achieve.

I am hoping to return a bit more rested. Mark and Leigh are great vacation hosts, plying us with food and drinks and conversation.

Enough blogging for today.

Today begins another three day getaway for Jupe and Eileen. I think I badly need it. Despite  my best efforts, I had to deal yesterday with the Dance Department thinking about how it treats its pianists. I would have preferred not to do this on my busiest day of the week. Julie had asked to talk with me. I went a bit early. Basically I guess she wanted to thank me for starting the conversation around the pianists and how  much they are paid. Weirdly, Julie is into recognition for the pianists as well. She wants us up on the website with a bio, I guess.

I told her recognition didn’t interest me that much. I enjoy the work. I enjoy working with her. But it’s underpaid. Someone needed to point it out. When I pointed out that I was paid $100 for four hours work and that it wasn’t enough, she told me in her house $100 was a lot of money. I guess there was no way she wouldn’t be a bit defensive since I’m on the offensive.

I also chatted with Matt the chair of the department. Matt is one of the younger teachers. He graduated from Hope. He is a good dancer and seems very idealistic and ethical. I thought it would probably bother him that the pianists were not being paid fairly. It did. He had already talked to the Dean (of the Fine Arts?) about it. I think this is his first semester as chair of the Dance Department. He feels like he is learning. 

He asked me if I would play for him in his Modern Classes. I told him I had worked with Modern Dance teachers before at Hope and it was fine. I told both Matt and Julie that I enjoy the work, but I enjoy a lot of things.

The upshot is that all the pianists are submitting when they can work. The department secretary will draw up graph (this according to what Matt told me) and they will go from there.

I thought about this. I have benefited from going in at 11 AM instead of 8:30 AM. This gives me needed time to recuperate and relax and study. So I told them I was available Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 10 AM to Noon and 2 PM to 4. I have no idea when classes are scheduled. No one bothered to tell me (or probably any of the other pianists).

The dance faculty doesn’t seem to have a weak link. They are all pretty excellent. The department seems under valued by the university. Otherwise, how could they build a zillion dollar new music department and not make any allowances for dance.

Right now the dance department does its recitals at the Knickerbocker Theater which has a very small stage. Not big enough for dance really. And very shallow wings. Dancers fly off stage and literally hit the wall on stage right.

Anyway, you can see I need some perspective and time off. Notice I’m not even bitching about church. Sometimes it feels like rehearsing my stress so screw that.

I wonder about doing this blog. It’s like talking out loud alone in a darkened theater or church. I suspect people read what I  write, at least part of it. I can judge from my analytic software that I am getting “hits” daily, sometimes as many 70 or more.

I think one of the reasons I persist in this exercise is the writing itself. I love to write and have always done so since I was a kid. There’s something about it that helps me think.

Well enough. It’s early. I have spent the dark hours of the morning cleaning the kitchen and doing laundry. I started rereading Beckett’s Molloy a bit before sitting down to blog. I hope I can get some relaxation in at my brother’s home. .Thanks for listening. If you’re there.

A beautiful Great American Novel map | ShortList Magazine

I’ve really been behind in my online reading of news and interesting articles. This link has some cool illustrations, but I had to enlarge them to read them.

Jon Meacham’s ‘Destiny and Power: The American Odyssey of George Herbert Walker Bush’

Elder Bush Says His Son Was Served Badly by Aides – The New York Times

Poppy’s in the news and telling all. Fun stuff.

In ‘Letters to Véra,’ Vladimir Nabokov Writes to His Wife – The New York Times

I’ve read some Nabokov. This review inspires me to read more.

How the F.B.I. Can Detain, Render and Threaten Without Risk – The New York Times

This writer is from the notoriously libertarian Cato institute with which I rarely agree. But this seems to be spot on.

Thinking about thinking. I love this topic. It has had tons of impact on my understandings and behavior. I’m not sure how this video will work. The salient discussion begins about 23 minutes into it and it seems to begin there. It also seems to continue on with the rest of discussion.

You cannot think about thinking without thinking about what Seymour Papert would

More on thinking about thinking.

Pasi Sahlberg – ABOUT FINNISH LESSONS

The guy in the video mentions this book. This is the book’s website.

Familial Ties to Slavery, Bound by Vintage First-Person Accounts – The New York Times

This article looks good. Haven’t made it all the way through it.

Review: In Beckett’s ‘The End,’ a Nameless Man Stares Down Death Onstage – NYT

I am a fan of Beckett. I have seen several of his plays over the course of my life. Right now I’m reading the essay he wrote to begin the collection Our Exagmination Round His Factifications for Incamination of Work in Progress.

Stressed, Tired, Rushed: A Portrait of the Modern Family – The New York Times

This article seems to fill out some of Turkle’s observations on how people are stressed these days.

Quentin Tarantino Says ‘All Cops Are Not Murderers’ – The New York Times

Thanks, Quentin. Now I bet you want everybody to go to your new movie.

Exploiting Emotions About Paris to Blame Snowden, Distract from Actual Culprits

The Paris attack and its aftermath is feeling like an Olaf Stapleton novel to me. Stapleton was an early practitioner of a kind of faux historical sci fi. I have read several books by him including First and Last Men. In one of them, he describes how the world goes crazy and plunges into the last war. This is way before WWII when he is writing.

We are witnessing an increase in hysteria in an already hysterical and largely leaderless world environment. US Governors are lining up to be counted as “protecting” their state from Syrians. They remind me of Putin’s stand right now on terrorism. A bit self serving, n’est pas? And also intolerant to the point of nonsense.

HOW “LIBERAL” NPR BECAME THE CIA’S LAP DOG FOR NEWS STORY

This article rehearses some stuff I lived through. I haven’t entirely forgiven some of the journalists who cheerleaded us into Iraq. I still have trouble reading and trusting Thomas Friedman.

Finding Alice’s ‘Wonderland’ in Oxford – The New York Times

I’ve never understood why there’s not an Alice in Wonderland museum in Oxford. It’s been a kind of a fantasy of mine and daughter Sarah that one day there will be. Maybe she’ll open it.

Robert Craft, Stravinsky Adviser and Steward, Dies at 92 – The New York Times

I’ve always thought that Craft was a fascinating character, especially in the way he ingratiated himself with the clever Stravinsky who then reciprocated with exploitation of Craft himself. Cool stuff.

I sometimes chafe at having a religious background, but there are many times it has been helpful to me. Oddly, enough it helps with reading Finnegans Wake, Joyce draws heavily on the Jacob/Esau story, as well as many Old Testament stories.

I am blogging in the late afternoon on Tuesday. Eileen and I have played two games of Boggle today (one after Breakfast and one after Lunch). She had her hair done and went grocery shopping. I practiced organ. I’m looking forward to spending the rest of the day with her. We will walk over to my Mom’s.

I find myself making “Memes” for Facebooger.

Here is one I didn’t put up yet.

You’ll notice there is no space between “where” and “a.” REJECT! I didn’t have time to redo it. It’s not as simple as editing the text. I have to complete redo the written part.

Here’s another that I did post today.

I am more and more convinced that without people being incredible aware of their own stuff, it’s practically impossible to have a thoughtful productive conversation on social media.

You’ll notice the source is the same in these memes. I finished Turkle’s Reclaiming Conversation a few days ago and have been typing up my notes. As I run across insights and cool stuff, it’s hard not to make one of these meme things.

Well Eileen is waiting for me to finish so we can walk to my Mom’s. Ta ta for now!

My blood pressure has been coming down a bit. I like to think this is related to some ebbing stress. I am anticipating some time away this week. My brother and his wife have gracious consented to Eileen and me coming for another three day visit. These times out of town calm me down. And they fit the criteria that Eileen recently suggested of time together when I’m not engrossed in my work.

Speaking of my work, I nailed the organ music yesterday. My friend Rhonda made a very helpful suggestion that allowed an inner voice more clarity in my Schumann Pedal Piano piece (“No one will mind if you release the upper voices early and allow the moving inner voices to be heard better”) Thank you Rhonda.

And it was kind of fun to connect with Marilyn Biery the composer of the prelude on Facebooger. I put up my order for the day which included compositions by her and Bruce Neswick and then tagged them in the post. They both “liked” the post and Biery even thanked me in a comment. I think that’s fun.

Eileen and Barb took off in the afternoon to visit Barb’s Mom in a nursing home. I used the time alone to relax. I did do some work. I am systematically gathering more descants and choral elaborations based on hymns we sing at Grace. Bruce Neswick has a collection of descants that I can legally reproduce. Yesterday during the homily, I made notes of which hymns his descants were written for. I plan to file each of them in our huge file of descants at church and reproduce them as needed.

I’m also making scores of Willock’s choral elaborations that will be easier for the choir to read. I rationalize this violation of copyrights with the face that we DO own multiple copies of this music.

I’m supposed to be a part time employee, so I thought I would use some of the time I am church doing Eucharist to do this work rather than allocating more of time working on it.

But I did listen to Rev Jen’s sermon despite doing this work. Her closing remarks especially grabbed my attention:

“We are powerless over much of what we watch, most of what we see, much of what we experience. End times are like that. Which is why they are scary and it’s only human to want to turn away. But here’s the thing, we are not helpless, ever.  And our help, our presence matters, to those in Paris, to those in Lebanon, to those refugees who don’t feel like they are anywhere, to those in Chicago.”

There seem to be some typos in her uploaded version. She has dated the sermon for November 5 instead of 15 and the ending passage mistakenly reads “We are powerless but not never helpless.” I think she means “ever”

The phrase “powerless but not helpless” seems to be an addiction recovery phrase that Anne Lammott mentioned in a Facebooger post on Saturday.  I like it.

 Is Facebook Stunting Your Child’s Growth? – Pacific Standard

Another article footnoted by Turkle. The author is a researcher and a Dorm Dad. Haven’t made it all the way through this one yet.

While the magic of Friday’s performance is fresh, I am continuing to read and think about Midsummer Night’s Dream. Also I cooked to Mendelssohn’s wonderful music based on it last night.

The library copy of Turkle’s Reclaiming Conversation is due this Tuesday. I have finished reading it and am typing notes into a google doc. This morning one of her observations struck me so clearly that I thought it deserved a Facebooger meme, so I made one.

I find myself avoiding Facebook more after reading Turkle. Some of this is my own reluctance to watch family members (on Eileen’s side… not all of them, just one or two) spewing hatred and misconceptions. I used to try to engage these loved ones in civil conversation, but that seems to be impossible. Nevertheless I refuse to “defriend” them. But it does make Facebooger less fun.

Yesterday I put up the order for this Sunday’s Eucharist on Facebook and tagged two of the composers I am performing today: Marilyn Biery and Bruce Neswick. I am playing an organ piece by Biery and she responded quickly with a “thank you.” I figure I would like to know when people are playing my music so other composer probably do too. Although I have nine “likes” to this post, Neswick hasn’t responded and that’s totally fine with me.

We’re doing a soprano descant he wrote this morning which fits with a varied hymn accompaniment he has composed.

So Facebooger provides a nice connection to colleagues like these people. I notice that the Jenkins side of the family is slowing down a bit on “sharing” on Facebooger. I know I am.

Is Facebook Stunting Your Child’s Growth? – Pacific Standard

This is an article (and a study) cited by Turkle. I looked it up this morning to link into my notes. “Online life was associated with a loss of empathy and a diminished capacity for self reflection,” writes Turkle about this study.

I also scanned in an entire section near the end of the book where Turkle suggests strategies to use tech better and relate to people better. She calls this section, “Guideposts,” and treats many different topics such as Remember the power of your phone. It’s not an accessory and Slow down and Protect your creativity. Take your time and take quiet time. Find your own agenda and keep your own pace.

If these seem vague and/or incomplete, you understand why I scanned in her prose which fills out her ideas more.

Once again, the genius of Shakespeare impressed me last night as well the excellence of this particular troupe’s understanding and performance of the play we went to see.

The ability of the Actors from the London Stage to reimagine Shakespeare in an contemporary context was startling. Above you see Titania, the queen of the fairies, attended to by her underlings who resemble someone from the bad guys from the Matrix.

Over and over last night, this group brought Shakespeare into the 21st century carefully adhering to the language of the original (which is after all the star.)

This is was one talented cast. Five actors covered 21 characters and did so with ease and humor. The ensemble moments were startling. Their interp was the result of collaborative process (there is no director used).

With the use  a Tibetan prayer bowl, a pitch pipe and the many sounds that humans can make including ensemble singing, I found myself admiring the way the aural environment worked in sync and totally without electronics to create familiar and beautiful effects and was entirely created by the cast.

The did a very cool thing. There was no curtain at the beginning. There were several chairs at the back of the stage. The cast simply wandered on. But they weren’t acting yet. They seemed to milling around, consulting each other a bit a random. Eventually, they settled down and the audience was quiet, lights had come down at some point. They stood and each actor introduced his/her character. This meant a round robin of identification with actors moving easily from one character to another as they introduced themselves. it was more like they explained themselves.

Later the audience begins to understand that the back of the stage (where actors would often exit to) was where actors marked time usually out of character before their next entrance. It was an amazing effect.

I immediately came home and began reading the play again.

I had a real nice time. Thanks again to Rhonda for prompting me to get our free tickets.