Musical Matchmaking

The morning, as scheduled, the Middle-Aged Woman and I left the cozy confines of suburban Detroit for the small-town splendor of Petoskey, MI. (For those of you who need a map, please refer to this post.) In preparation for our departure last night, I created a couple of compilation CDs for Leslie and Larry.

One of the discs featured a selection of 25 Nat (King) Cole tracks, including his big hits and many personal favorites. I noticed Larry grooving to the King Cole Trio's Straighten Up And Fly Right during our drive home from Greenbush to Detroit on Monday and decided then and there to make sure that he receive a more in-depth exposure to Cole's music.

A slight digression: Jim Styro's Top Five Nat (King) Cole tracks
[This is very difficult...]

1. Straighten Up And Fly Right - This really swings. Such energy, so playful. Pure gold.
2. Nature Boy - Although I normally detest an artist rerecording their own work, some of Cole's tracks really benefit from the maturing of his voice and some fantastic new orchestral arrangements. This song is an example.
3. There Will Never Be Another You - A personal favorite. The man has so many astounding ballads that picking particular tracks is painful. The first time I ever heard this song was in the film version of The World According To Garp. A wonderful, heart-breaking lyric.
4. Stardust - As an amateur vocalist myself, I've got one question: how the HELL can he make this song sound so effortless?
5. Don't Get Around Much Anymore - What an arrangement! So smooth, so much swagger. It's the bomb. That's why he's the King. (Jump back, Elvis, Michael or anyone else you want to mention. Who needs Sinatra when you can have Nat?)

OK - where were we?

Oh yeah - so I also made L&L a collection of 19 Jonatha Brooke tracks (both solo and with The Story). I'm not sure Jonatha has had any songs which would qualify as "hits" exactly - but if you haven't heard this woman's music, you need to run (don't dawdle) to Amazon and buy some now. (I am willing to provide recommendations at no charge.) We were listening to some of my personal collections during our drive Monday and it struck me how many times I have included Jonatha's music. I also recalled Larry expressing interest in her music at some previous Music Night gatherings; he may have even borrowed a CD or two. Anyway, I decided he needed to possess more of Jonatha's music as well.

[Dear Jonatha: In penance for giving some of your music away, I promise to buy another copy of "The Works" and give that as a gift as well. Love, Jim Styro]

Another digression: Jim Styro's Top Five Jonatha Brooke songs
[I can believe I'm doing this to myself again. So hard...]

1. The Angel In The House (The Story) - This is the first track that really got my attention. Such a bittersweet lyric - and Jonatha's vocal range is glorious.
2. Where Were You? - The word that comes to mind again is "swagger". On her first solo album, Jonatha rocks out with impunity. I particularly love the homage to "Here Comes The Sun" that closes this number.
3. Because I Told You So - What this lady can do with just her voice and a guitar is amazing. A wonderful lyric of devotion - a personal favorite.
4. Linger - Great, ringing guitars. When the chorus kicks in, who can resist punching the accelerator? "Here I go-oh-woh-woh-woh-woh-woh..."
5. No Net Below - Few artists are brave enough to be heard so up close and personal. This track is recorded so that you can hear every breath, like she's whispering the song into your ear. In the dictionary, the word "intimate" refers back to this record.

Damn - it's getting hard to remember what I was going to write about when I started this.
Oh, I remember...

So we're listening to a Jonatha Brooke song ("No Net Below" actually) on the way to Petoskey today and Snoplum says:

"I think it would be great if Jonatha Brooke covered a Steve Ward song. What's that "river" song I like?"

"Well, there's a few of them: do you mean Flow (river flow) - or The River Leads Me Home - or Down By..."

"That one. River Leads Me Home."

"I think she should cover Kid Yourself. It's probably his most Jonatha-like song. Or, if she wants to do a ballad, I would suggest Still Life"

"Well, I think they should do a duet on The River Leads Me Home."

"OK"

"They should work together on a record. Jonatha has her own label. She can hire whoever she wants to work on her records..."

"OK - but...they seem like very different types of artists to me - in so far as you can make judgements about what a person may be like based on their art. Steve Ward is...a disillusioned optimist - and Jonatha is an optimistic cynic."

"Oh - that's a post!"

"What's a post"

"What you just said about Steve Ward and Jonatha Brooke."

"I thought it was more something I might put in a Random Tuesday Thoughts thing - not a whole post just for that."

"No - you have to write a post with that and we'll send copies of it to Steve Ward and Jonatha Brooke so that they can start working together. And I will be responsible for having brought together two musical geniuses."

"You'll be responsible? Does that mean you're writing the post?"

"No - you're writing it. I'll be...distributing it."

[Think of the great scene in Schindler's List where Neeson (as Schindler) meets Ben Kingsley (as the accountant Stern): "Not the work, not the work...the PRESENTATION."]

Last digression: Jim Styro's Top Five Steve Ward tracks
[So...painful...]

1. Careful (Can't Fall Again) [Cherry Twister] - So hard to pick only one Cherry Twister number. But I love the slide guitar on this number (it reminds me so much of Steely Dan's Pearl of the Quarter) and the harmonies are sublime. This is the softer side of Steve.
2. I Missed The Mark - The opening track of Steve's first solo album, Opening Night. From the joyous organ strains that open the song to the closing guitar lick, this is no rookie music-making. This is alternative pop from a man who knows how to write, how to play, how to sing, how to produce a record. How can this guy not be both rich and famous?!?!?!?!
3. Still Life - A near perfect pop song. I won't even attempt to describe its pristine beauty. Go buy "Opening Night"!
4. The Death of Star - Oh and do you like psychedelic pop too? Well the Doctor is in! The arrangement to this song is mind-blowing; like Art Garfunkel doing Strawberry Fields Forever.
5. Kid Yourself - The closing song on Steve's second (and last, so far - dammit) album, See and Be Seen. "Someone's got a secret to tell..." - indeed; and the secret is: Steve Ward is a pop music genius.

OK - so to sum up:
1. Go buy all of Steve Ward's albums (quit whining - there's only three. You'll thank me later.)2. Go buy any three Jonatha Brooke albums
3. If you already know about Steve and/or Jonatha - and you have any powerful friends that can bring these to talents together, then lend your voice to mine. Send emails, make phone calls, alert your Senator, Congressman, Obama!

We need them to make beautiful music together.

Take care.

PS: I had to finish off this post in the parking lot of the Petoskey Burger King where I was barely able to steal their free Internet access. So please excuse any typos, bad grammar, stupid ideas, etc.

Jim Styro's Meaning of Life: Part One

(or - More on the whole "happiness thing")

As the Dude once said: "My thinking about this case had become very uptight."

Last night as I wrote the over-commitment post, I felt my focus was drifting. I had one other nearly finished post in the hopper - and a bunch of unfinished stuff that didn't seem to fit together - but no sense of where things were headed or what I would write next.

But then my wife, the lovely Snoplum (aka the Middle-Aged Woman), posted the following comment:

It's not that I see NO value, it's just that I see no value as great as your happiness/contentment. Sweet, but true. Oh, and not too weak, too kind.

And quickly, the whole thing seemed to come into focus. I knew where the plane was headed - even if its only good engine would take it no farther than the scene of the crash (a half hour before the paramedics would arrive).* Boys & girls: we are on a mission to uncover the Meaning Of Life (MOL - according to Styro). Discussions of happiness, expectations, honesty, relationships and faith loom on the horizon as we get this whole thing figured out.

Let's review the ground we've covered so far, shall we:

1. The road to unhappiness is paved with unmet expectations.
2. High achievement requires high expectations.
3. High achievement requires focusing of energy and attention.
4. Long-term relationships have a unique value for which there is no substitute.
5. There does not appear to be any direct relationship between how much a person does and how happy (or unhappy) they are.
6. I can be a real d*ck sometimes.

I'm not sure that last point really fits into the whole "meaning of life" discussion - but it may be extremely helpful to you later on when considering whether or not I'm completely full of sh*t.)

I think our next stop on the road towards the MOL involves additional scrutiny of the whole "happiness thing". Clearly, most people think happiness is important in life. The country where I live is founded on the idea that all people should have the right to life, freedom and the pursuit of happiness. I have emphasized the word "pursuit" as a reminder that the Declaration of Independence does not presume a right to happiness itself - just the pursuit of it.

I will go further to say: The goal of understanding what makes you happy - and how to do those things, to let yourself be happy - is not to be happy all the time. I think anyone with the insight to figure out the what and how of happiness also knows that happiness has its limitations. I certainly believe happiness should be valued - even sought after (although I suspect that happiness flees from those who seek for it too vigorously; in many cases, they didn't realize that the ingredients for happiness were close at hand - and probably within).

But if a person felt constantly happy, how would they know what happiness was? It wouldn't need a name; it would just be called "The Way I Feel All The Time".


Take care.


* apologies to Ron White

Perpetually overcommitted

I can't remember the last time I was bored.

It's not that I think boredom is something to be sought after, you understand. It's just that - every once in a while - I start to imagine what it might be like to have enough time to do all the things I ought to do.

Don't worry - I'm not gonna spend this post whining about having too much to do. I must love having too much to do - because that always seems to be my state of being. I don't view that as necessarily a bad thing. It's only bad when you make a commitment you can't keep - or you don't do your best because you're rushed. I wish I could say that never happens to me. But oftentimes the question that lingers is not: could I have done better - or could someone have done better than me, but - if I hadn't attempted it, would anything have been done at all?

My challenge is in deciding which activities are most important and trying to arrange my life in a way that ensures those things receive most of my time and energy. Family, work and church are the elements of my life that deserve and receive the greatest amounts of my attention. No one of these seems to hold the top spot for an extended period; there is an ebb and flow in the demands each of these places on me - and I do my best to keep things in balance.

My inclination to be overly busy is troubling to my wife, the Middle-Aged Woman. She thinks I work too hard (sometimes I do) and she thinks I spend too much time at church (sometimes I do) - but I spend plenty of time at home. And most of that time is spent on my own. There is no one here who seems desirous for more of my company and attention. My wife, daughter and son seem to be getting as much of me as they can handle - and, in some cases, more than they desire. (Except for my son, who would like to go golfing more often. But he'd go golfing with Hannibal Lecter, if the doctor was covering his greens fees.)

For the MAW, at least, this is an area of (mostly) unspoken and unresolved disagreement. We've got plenty of those. (If you've been married for 20+ years and don't have any, let me know your secret. If I can help you market the thing properly, we can both be rich beyond our wildest dreams.) I actually spend less time at church now than I have in years. And I've reduced my on-call responsibilities at work. But this doesn't seem to affect her view that I "do too much." She would, I believe, like me to simply spend more time at home. But the things she does most of the time at home are solitary activities. And when I'm engaged in solitary activities (for example: reading, writing, napping), I like to be - alone.

It may sound like I'm an anti-social person - but nothing could be farther from the truth. I love entertaining (the MAW - not so much), I love going out, seeing friends, watching a movie, attending a concert. Admittedly, the MAW's enjoyment of these activities has been undercut for a few years by her back problems - but even prior to that time, I was (and am) definitely the social butterfly of our union.

My intention was not to begin whining about incompatibilities with my spouse in order to avoid whining about being busy. I enjoy being busy. But, it seems that, as life goes on, there are always more demands on my time. I have gotten better at saying "No" but - I still like to say "Yes". Most of all, I think that I appreciate the quiet times in my life more - because I've seen how crazy things can get. I think I've learned to be content in spite of circumstances. I try to carry my comfort zone around with me - wherever I go.

Take it from me - that's a handy thing to have with you.


Take care.

Flash Fiction*: One Breath

The Middle-Aged Woman sent me an email today with the Subject line:

Are you in? I'm in.**

And a link to Jeanne's Fiction Friday Challenge at The Raisin Chronicles.

The challenge was/is: to write a piece of "flash fiction" - a short story of 100 words or less that begins with the phrase -

"The room was silent except for...."

Never one to back down from a challenge by two women (especially when one is my wife), I submitted my story Saturday evening.*** I'm also never one to miss a two-for-one posting opportunity; so my post today consists, in large part, of my flash fiction submission entitled:

One Breath

The room was silent except for the distant hum of a fan. He lay still, his breathing hushed. He felt alone – although she was close enough to touch him.

Then she reached out and grasped his arm, a gentle tug. Relief swept over him. He turned to her and covered her mouth with his own; his arms encircled her and drew her close. She took a sharp breath as she felt his lips on her throat, his hand at the small of her back. Now they breathed with one breath.

“I want you. Do you want me?” he asked.

“Yes.”
==============================

Hope you enjoyed my story.


Take care.


* not "flasher" fiction (despite what you may think after reading my story)
** Of course, I'm always wanting to be in
*** a day late - but not a word short.

A serious mistake*

"If you only come face to face with your own mistakes once or twice in your life it’s bound to be extra painful. I face mine every day – that way they ain’t usually much worse than a dry shave."
-- Capt. Augustus McCrae (in Larry McMurtry's Lonesome Dove)

I love that book. That's not the mistake part - I talk about that later in the post. But it seems appropriate to quote the character of Gus McCrae on the topic of mistakes because we share a common trait that seems to get us in trouble: sometimes we just refuse to take serious stuff seriously.Listen to how McMurtry phrases it:

"It was the kind of lapse [Gus] had been subject to all his life: things that were clearly dangerous didn't worry him enough."

My particular brand of this character flaw is highlighted by inappropriate attempts** at humor.

Mistake #1: I still remember vividly sitting in a meeting with the Assistant Division Chief during the later stages of my thirteen-and-a-half year stint with the Internal Revenue Service (that wasn't a mistake either - don't rush me). I didn't know the guy very well - but well enough to realize that he wasn't exactly a fun-loving sort in the office. I don't even remember the specifics of the incident that well - but I do remember one thing: I tried to make a joke in the meeting that was neither appropriate or funny. And I remember another thing even more clearly: As I returned to my office, kicking my own @$$ as a propulsion system, I promised myself I would - from that time forward - refrain from making jokes during meetings with superiors at work.

I've kept that promise pretty faithfully in the fifteen or so years that have passed. It's a pity I didn't expand the promise to cover situations outside the workplace -- until later.

Mistake #2: Once again, my memories of the incident I am now about to describe are not very distinct. (I'm sure that's my convenient defense mechanism against guilt. It's one of those experiences where I remember it now more based on the story being retold multiple times - rather than remembering the incident itself.) I think this occurred in the early Nineties (when the kids were quite small) - but I could be off by five years in either direction. Anyway - this story shares a lot in common with mistake #1 above - except this one's considerably more egregious.

The Middle-Aged Woman got robbed at gunpoint one night in a store parking lot several miles from our home. She was in a state of shock as a result of the incident and stopped in at her brother's home to get her head together before coming home. She contacted the local constabulary from her brother's place - and they treated her like the criminal. Apparently, for suggesting that armed bandits were operating unimpeded by their donut-chomping @$$es!

Suffice it to say: MAW had a rough night.

There's a lot of stuff about that night I don't remember. It may be that I was waiting for her to come home with some supplies I needed to complete work around the house; I can't remember whether I knew about what had happened before she arrived home or not. It doesn't make any difference. It also doesn't make any difference that I had my car broken into some months prior and had my Franklin Planner (and other stuff) stolen - but you'll understand why I mentioned it in a minute.

So, when Snoplum finally walked through the door and told me what had happened, I replied:

"Well - now we've both had our planners stolen."

Not: "Oh my God, Honey! Thank God you're safe."
Or: "Come and let me just hold you"
Or even: "Let's have sex - that will make you feel better"***

So, I have revealed to the world (again) that I am a sh*theel.
And I have (rightfully) never been forgiven for that night. Nor do I expect to be. But I have gotten better at avoiding inappropriate remarks.
I do this by keeping my mouth shut.
Except for that night when someone called the house claiming I'd been kidnapped...

Look - I'm done talking about my mistakes. For now.


Take care.




*Today is the one-month anniversary of "speaking in CAPS". I've been able to post every day for a month! Readers and listeners will have to decide for themeselves if that has been a mistake.
**"Attempts" is the key word here. The slightest hint of success would have been a welcome mitigating factor.
***You can see I still haven't lost the ability to make this sort of mistake, can't you?