Alaine once again outdid her cuisine, with shish-kebab chicken and appetizers galore. I like that word, “galore”. I admire anyone who can plan and cook for a crowd. From the outside, it seems wonderful how professional chefs get it right every time. Of course, she could wonder the same thing about music. Both take years before the rewards are due.I arrived late; do you know how hard it is to find starter fluid on Easter Sunday? I plowed down 95, a leisurely trip but still arrived exhausted. This turned out not bad since it relegated me to the back patio where I got to visit Alaine and friends, kind of sidestepping the main events in the dining room. This way, we got to play music and watch the Easter egg hunt. That’s what it’s all about.
Alaine entertains on a scale I can’t imagine. I met a lady doctor, ate a desert called terra mousse, sang “You Are My Sunshine” with the kidlets, shook hands with a Bishop, read an autographed book from Norway, and when nobody was looking, gave the alley cat a sprig of chicken. I could not stay to visit longer and she makes such excellent coffee. I realize it is hard to believe I could not linger for company and coffee, but the traffic was frenetic and I had to get home before dark.
We’ve got something new this time. Alaine has been learning the iPad, which is a generation ahead of my equipment. And she really produces fine results. I don’t think she realizes what a great toy she has. The audio is impressive. If you see some incredible pictures here shortly, you’ll know where that is coming from. Puts my Nikon to shame.
On the return leg, I met up with JP, who was in a fine mood. It looks like the old truck is not going on any trips, and the new truck will not be ready in time. This sums up to a major disappointment. JP will not ride the sidecar. Finances are also a hurdle. Shall we say that JP’s experience with getting the most out of a dollar differs significantly from my own. Gosh, isn’t that a nice way to put it? He’s also content to habituate places more often than I, like Churchill’s. Me, I love to walk into a new place for the first time.
In all, this was a more than memorable Easter. Look at these baskets, how’s that for color photography? In my day there were not that many eggs between us. JP missed all of this because, at his age, he has taken up jogging again. He can barely move and so missed the dinner.
Natural selection? Changing to a completely different topic, I viewed a documentary of English country estates. One of them was Down House which turns out was where Charles Darwin lived. Up to now, I thought him to be the son of a well-to-do public official. Heck no, the guy was loaded. In a sense I now more admire his work because he could have idled his life away. At the other extreme, I wonder how many equally brilliant individuals fizzled out in the mills and mines for it. I see now Darwin wrote his theories in wonderful comfort.
Did you know statistically, 40% of humans still don’t “believe” in evolution? This is not to imply they are neutral on the topic. They usually go further and deny evolution, claiming creationism is responsible not only for species, but for life itself. Darwin made no attempt explain the origin of life, rather only the origin of species. My take on evolution is that it is not something one believes. Instead, one either possesses the intelligence to understand evolution or one does not. Belief versus intelligence is the real issue concerning evolution. Either way, Easter is such fun.
ADDENDUM
If I could give some advice about getting old, I’d tell the world to learn music. No, not listening to it, but playing it. Even if the best you can do is beat on a drum, don’t hesitate. This splurge of good counsel was brought on by the mere activity of auditioning y’day. Every musical interaction contains a benefit of some kind. What’s happened here is even if the new band doesn’t select me, my personal song list has now bumped up to 25 tunes. Almost enough to go play a gig as a guitar soloist.
For me, that would be a milestone. For the time I’ve spent on stage in my life, it was never in that capacity. Vocals and guitar are separate hard-earned skills for me, to combine them would have been unthinkable just a few short years ago. That was back when I honestly believed one needed “talent” to do such a thing. No, one needs persistent hard work.
It was actually a combination of influences over the last eight weeks that added another 30% to my list. My primary source was “A Prairie Home Companion” for non-standard hits. These aren’t radio-grade pap, but professional live performances which I comb over for suitable lyric and rhythm combinations. Then this audition got me excavating a few 60s hits, careful to avoid anything covered since then. A total of nine new tunes I can fool around with.
My list is not to be compared to the 32 song program for a regular group. Not only must I eliminate the instrumental breaks, my resistance to kill time between songs means I’ll like need 48 tunes to carry a show. Strange that the most performing I’ve done with this emerging pastime has been all the way down in Miami.
