things i
did
in 23.
a moustache-twisting journal of the few things in my life worth mentioning
23 | 22 | 21 | 20 | 19 | 18 | 17 | 16 | 15 | 14 | 13 | 12 | 11 | 10 | 09 | 08 | 07 | 06 | 05 | 04 | 03 | 02 | 01 | 2000 | 99 | 98 | 97
celebrated a decade
You don't get many decades. I've done less than 6. My parents have done 8. My youngest kid has now completed one. Ten years old! What will the next decade bring?
gigged with maggie in san antonio
The always-a-blast Maggie Worsdale finally returned to this town to do a couple of shows, a jazzy tribute to the Beatles and an all-over-the-place tribute to Patsy Cline. We got bands together, rehearsed, ate, drank, and laughed almost more than humanly possible. Ah yes, and the shows went super well: Maggie always finds the heart, always tells the story, and sings to make the rafters ring. That voice! (And that fella she's married to, Tom, is pretty cool too.) Let's do it again soon.
hosted the 1000th episode
of Classical Connections, my daily show on Texas Public Radio. Seventeen guests voiced their well-wishes, and one special guest, Itzhak Perlman, took it over the top. How fortunate I am, to be at the center of this whirlwind of performers, directors, and composers.
got (and sent) my final red envelope
We weren't even aware Netflix was going to stop doing this. Over the years, we'd enjoyed getting disks of things that aren't streaming, but we were doing it less and less, so decided to cut costs; only a month or so later they made the announcement. Bam! No more Netflix through the mail. The end of an era many didn't even know was an era to begin with.
timed out in kerrville
The Jazz Protagonists, with special guest Rich Oppenheim on sax, took our Brubeck show on the road. The beautiful Cailloux Theater (say "callow") hosted us for a wonderful night of jazz for a very appreciative Hill Country audience. Can't wait to do more of these.
swung in waxahachie
Ken Slavin performed for the Waxahachie Symphony Association and brought us along with him. Darren and Greg and I made it a delightful road trip, joined Rich and Chuck and Ken, and then had a blast in the Chautauqua Auditorium, which resonated like an old violin (Greg did sound). The crowd loved the show, and I loved looking around and imagining all the historic music that had sounded there. I'm now part of that history.
rodeoed
It had been a long long long time since I'd been to the rodeo. Somehow Cate had never been. We gathered the girls and their friends, sat in some great seats (thanks to friend-in-high-places Anna), rode the rides, did lots of screaming. Think we'll go back? Darn tootin'.
sprayed some more bigelow elixir red
They couldn't have known what they were making and selling for ten bucks in the early 2000s, but after they stopped production the frag-heads went nuts and now old bottles command absurd prices. Cate found one last one for a decent price and snapped it up. Herbal, peppery, old-fashioned, manly: man, why did they ever stop making it? BONUS: We also discovered their Bay Rum cologne —– not actual Bay Rum but cologne with that scent —– and it's divine.
wore a gingham check jacket
Greta and I were shopping for something else when she spotted this. She insisted and insisted that I get it. I did. Perfect for summer! Light and kind of loud and fun.
wrote music for a cajun cowboy
I'd known Mike Palermo as a first-rate trumpeter, and then as a first-rate musical instrument entrepreneur. But he's also a first-rate cook, who'll be drawing on his Cajun background and Texan present in a new cooking show. It needed music: something New Orleansy and Texany and trumpety. So I cooked up some nice arrangements for him (and a top-shelf band) to play. Look for it soon.
cheered for tootsie
The fam sat 2nd-row center for this touring show and absolutely loved it. The adults took note of the sensitive reframing of issues that society has changed its mind on recently, the kids laughed and screamed at the clever dialog and twisty plot, and we all marveled at the superb cast and its near-flawless execution of a demanding work.
road-tripped to ogden
What to do with an extra week of summer? Why, the Great American Vacation, that's what. Yes, we piled in the car and drove 1300 miles to Ogden, Utah, where Carl and Sarah Beth and their boys welcomed us for food, cousin play, conversation, mountain hiking, swimming, ice cream, and wonderful togetherness. And the scenery was as overwhelmingly beautiful as I remember. We gasped and exclaimed all through Roadrunnerland.
revisited one tin soldier
Something hit me one day, and I said to myself, "I should record that song." I made some changes to it, so you'll have to wait for the paperwork to go through before I share it with you. But it turned out really well. Remember that song? If you're a certain age, you do, but might not've heard it in a while. The verses, where the real story is carried, could be from any decade or century in the last three thousand years.
saw the perseids...
Just a few, on the way back from Ogden. On the way out there, we'd stopped at midnight or so with no light pollution nearby, and got out to look at the stars. The girls were overwhelmed and reverent —– one even got teary-eyed —– in the face of such majesty. Then, on the way back, we stopped again, and saw the first harbingers of the great summer shower, streaking across the star-crowded country sky.
...and the blue supermoon,
and the ring eclipse
What a year for astronomical events! Right after the Ogden trip was the blue supermoon (we thought we really could tell the difference; don't tell us we couldn't). The last such conflation till 2037, when the girls will be 70, 61, 27, and 24. These markers of our lives! Then that beautiful ring eclipse, a precursor to the biggie to come in 2024. Getting out there and looking up, I remembered all the unnamed people who went out and looked up —– shepherds, wise men —– as well as a famous one, Galileo, who sat through a stunning eclipse in jail. I spoke and speak a prayer: that we may become more like the stargazers, the wonderers, the awestruck, the curious —– and that the jails we all build for such people will burst open.
aged out
In Catherine's church, there's a group you're in until your kids are old enough to be in. This year, Greta turned 13. This means she's officially a youth! We have a teenager, people. On her 13th birthday, I said to myself, "Five more summers."
chatted with john malkovich
Have I mentioned I love that radio gig? It landed me in a really nice conversation with John, who was coming through town with a classical music theatrical comedic show. In person, he talks even more like John Malkovich than you'd think. Gentle and good-spirited and the right kind of celebrity. And he's a big classical fan.
ate an apple, from an apple tree in santa fe
Yep, we didn't get enough travel in, so we took back to the road. This time, to Santa Fe, where Scott and Jennifer invited us to their lovely place. Santa Fe is one of those towns where if you were plopped in any part of it you'd immediately know what town you're in. We relaxed, ate, drank, meandered, museumed, and, thanks to our generous friend Stephanie, bent our minds at Meow Wolf. And plucked an apple from the front-yard apple tree —– an apple never harvested, shipped, sold, or bought, but avidly crunched.
watched a fire get lit
Clara's dyslexia meant that reading was always a burden. But that changed when she read the first "Land of Stories" book, by Chris Colfer, whom we'd known from his "Glee" performances. Turns out he's a spellbinding author, whose dyslexia couldn't stop him from writing thousands of pages, every one of which was devoured by our girl. She read the whole series and all the flankers. And the moment she was done, she picked up another massive series. We have a reader, people.
listened to a young oboist
Greta said she wanted to learn oboe. I asked if she wouldn't rather start on clarinet and then move to the notoriously difficult oboe; she said nope, straight to oboe. I brought one home. On unpacking it and guessing how to put it together, she immediately started playing scales and picking out "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik." That superb ear is gonna be of good use.
played a bechstein
Made my way to gig out in the Hill Country, to find it was a gorgeous mansion, built in the 80s, with a strong Murder-She-Wrote vibe: stained-glass windows and molded entablatures, but ... new. Then I got to the 2nd-floor drawing room and saw my instrument: an '80s Bechstein in absolutely perfect condition. Concert-big and non-Steinway, with different hills and valleys, and its own distinct finger-feel and tone. It sounded so darn good. It was a pleasure to play.
wore another poljot
Christmas gave me several treats, one of which, from Linda, was a 1980s Poljot watch, again stylish and modern and dated and dupercool. How did they do it? Again and again, I look down at my wrist and smile anew.
thanked a friend moments before her death
My best friend Jeff was married to Marina for 7,178 days. The moment I saw them together I knew she was the one for him. She somehow combined an unfailingly gentle spirit with a bogglingly Victorian energy, gathering several lifetimes-worth of achievements, mostly in the work of expanding God's kingdom. Then, like that, she was gone. I was there to see Jeff and the three teenagers do something we'll never get to do in the beyond: give praise to God in the midst of deepest sorrow, anger, and dismay. And, on her final day, I was able to say to her, in person, "Thank you for loving my friend." I know she heard.
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What a year. Dedicated to the glory of God.
so, what did you do?
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