Audition #2:

Very hip school.  Beautiful campus.  Terribly worn-down facilities.  The jazz department is crammed into a small corner of what looks like a cathedral.  The undergrad department is still fairly new so they only have a handful of undergrads, which means most of their jazzers are killer grad students.  I don't think I impressed anyone with my playing, but everyone was very cool.  John Gunderson the sax guy seemed fairly impressed by my teaching, maybe because he's so new to teaching and frankly isn't much of an educator yet, although he's a killer player and very personable.  I went to his advanced jazz theory class and it was hilarious.  We spent 15 minutes going over a graphic analysis of a Bjork (That's right, Bjork) song that he did.  It was a piece of paper that read from left to right, full of all these symbols he came up with to represent the different sounds.  "So right here there's this pointalistic texture going on, so I drew a bunch of dots, and this jagged line is for that jagged electronic thing going on right there."  And he doesn't really break things down because I don't think he thinks that way (the exact opposite of Dr. Watkins).  He just throws stuff out there and then sits there like he doesn't know what else to say, and people might take the opportunity to comment, or they might not.  "So man, check out those first three chords..." (long silence). Or, "So I think if I wrote a tune like this where the melodic phrases didn't line up with the harmonic phrases and they were all odd lengths, that'd be pretty cool..." (long silence).  One of the students gave me a tour of the campus which was really nice of him.  Overall it was a positive experience and it's motivated me to start practicing my butt off again because ever since I started teaching my practicing has been going down hill.

Crud I gotta go teach a lesson.  Anyway, I kind of don't think I'm going to get accepted there.  But we'll see.  I might not get into either one of my programs, in which case I'm not sure what I'm going to do.  Keep teaching here?  Move to Boise?  Move to Salt Lake?  We'll see.

It's ADVENTURE TIIIIIIIME! My posts are too long.

Truly it has been a weekend of adventure.  Kurt came to Rexburg and stayed at my place Friday night.  It was tons of fun to have an old friend back, especially one who gets really excited about music.  For awhile now the jazz department has been short on assertive jazzers who are serious about learning the art, especially rhythm section guys.  It used to be Ben and Leighton on guitar, Kurt on keys, Nathaniel on whatever he wanted, and several drummers and saxophonists.  Everyone was looking for gigs and organizing jam sessions and experimenting and trying to play tunes that were way too hard, but it's not like that anymore.  So for Kurt to come up from Utah and practice with the Lionel Hampton festival competitors this year (because we have NO jazz pianists) totally made my day.

Last night was the premier of "The Quartet of Super Doom" which was the movie we made a few weeks ago, and Ingrid and I were going to turn it into another date, but she had to bail on me last minute.  So Kurt and I went to the piano at the Manwaring Center on the second floor (where terrible amateur male pianists frequently try to show off for the passers-by) and attempted to show off for the passers-by.  We actually didn't expect many people to go by, but it turns out we were right by some kind of new ticket kiosk (which was broken but apparently word hadn't gotten out yet) and tons of people came by.  Some stayed and listened.  It was really fun to play in public again, especially with someone who's good.

Later we got a big group together and watched our movie on a big screen in one of the lecture halls in the Snow Building with stadium seating.  Kim made a huge bag of popcorn.  The whole thing was amazing.  John's going to put it on YouTube, so I'll post the link as soon as I get it.  Plus it was like old times with all these people that I don't see much anymore, so I was getting in an increasingly slaphappy mood and soon my maturity level literally dropped to that of my high school days.  I was climbing the Snow Building walls, singing, dancing, saying all manner or retarded things, being flirtastic, and when we went to Millhollow I just had to change "$1.89 Chips and drink with purchase of sandwhich or salad" to "$1.89 hips and drink with purchase of sand or lad" just like old times.  The awkward thing was no one else was hyper, which made me the group entertainment for the night.

And then the moment of glory.  This cute girl with some other group at Millhollow said something kind of funny to me in passing, and then we kept making eye contact for some reason.  And then when I "accidently" flicked a piece of ice at their group, she was the only one who saw, and Dave said she was glaring at me.  So I collected everyone's styrofoam bowls and plastic spoons and constructed an elaborate doll with a face that I drew saying "I'm sorry I threw ice."  It was hideous and dripping melted ice cream, and I walked over to her table and gave it to her with my profound apologies.  Later she came up and told me it was the most elaborate thing she'd ever seen and asked me where I got the inspiration.  My mind went blank because I hadn't seen this coming and my ten noisy friends had suddenly gone completely silent to watch the awkwardness unfold, but I said something stupid and she said she'd cherish it forever.  Later I went through all the clever things I should have said but didn't.  Oh well, I'll probably never see her again.

So now I'm in Boulder, Colorado and already having a swell time.  Everyone's been so nice.  I was at the airport trying to figure out the bus situation from Denver to Boulder when I realized that a bus ticket was $12 and I only had $11.70, and you have to pay in cash and it has to be exact change.  So I said something to this old bus driver from this other bus and after he asked how much I had, he said "Don't worry about it, he'll let you on."  But then a few minutes later he came back and gave me 30 cents!  What a saint.  And then I had only just met this CU student girl when she entrusted me with her stuff so she could go do something back in the airport.  And then I met this retired couple on the bus who found out what bus stop I needed to get off at and explained how to get to my hotel, and the lady had worked at CU so she told me how great the school and community are.  And and this other friendly guy jumped into the conversation who had taken a bunch of jazz classes here and was telling me how cool the jazz faculty is.  And my hotel guy was nice and everyone's a hippie and everyone rides their bikes and the weather is only slightly chilly and I bought food at the organic grocery store right in front of my hotel and the jazz building literally looks like an old cathedral and it's a seven minute walk from my room and and and and...  and everything is just great.

So wish me luck.  I audition in 12 and a half hours.  But even if I don't make it in I'm still moving down here.  I found the perfect spot under a footbridge with some other bums.

Mighty Mouse? No. Mighty Mom.

After a conversation I had today with my mom, I have to say that she's amazing for more than just her ability to reabsorb her own bodily fluids.  Few people may recognize that she's also an educational superhero.  A former kindergarten teacher, Mom has been volunteering for a special education reading program for elementary school kids.  That's cool enough, but she's also been unsatisfied with the way the school system tends to give many of these students the shaft.  Many of them are there just because they did bad on some IQ or reading test that they probably weren't even trying on, and then they got thrown into this reading program and lose touch with everyone and keep getting behind.  Nobody, be they the teachers, teachers aids, or principle, is checking up on these students to see if they should actually stay in the program.  Mom says she's the only one who knows the level they are on and recognizes that some of them shouldn't even be there, and she's trying to communicate this to people who have never contacted her to see how these students are doing.  Anyway there are a lot of other little things that are happening that she's not satisfied with, so she's been compiling information for awhile and gathering an army of parents and other people in the system to change things.  She's doing all of this just because it's important to her, and although she says she wouldn't mind getting paid for the work she's putting in, her primary goal is to make sure these kids get the education they deserve.  She did something similar when she quit teaching and decided to write a bunch of letters to a bunch of influential people pointing out how, among several other things, all these new adopted reading programs that are being implemented are just trying to put all kids in the same box, which gives the slow kids and the fast kids the shaft.  They are designed to relieve the teacher of the responsibility of actually catering to their students needs, which means the teacher doesn't actually have to know what he/she is doing.  The program does all the work.  One size fits all.  Lame.

So Mom has been on a personal crusade to change the subpar Madison School District and save the world, which I think is pretty cool for someone who could spend all that free time she has getting her nails done and gossiping with the gals.  She's also been doing home repairs, studying religious and biological theory, and watching the Ken Burns Civil War Documentary.

Mom's rad.

Speaking of which, nobody says it like Mr. T...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_rBidCkJxo

Detoxifying at Grandma's

Hide and seek.  I think we've played hide and seek like 10 times in grandma's basement which consists of a bedroom and a small closet.  It became like this personal ninja challenge to keep coming up with more hiding spots.  I have fit myself into every conceivable nook and cranny of that basement, and it finally culminated in this, the last hiding spot.  They couldn't find me until I shouted out to help them.  The best is when it's S's turn to hide and she's looking at me and telling me to go upstairs and count while she's already started stuffing herself under the dresser.
Another psychedelic picture.  They weren't that impressed.  Too much patience required.
Rach died laughing when she saw this one.  It's funny how it distorted S's face to make it look like she's raising her eyebrow, especially since her hand is on her cheek like that.
G's rockstar picture.  Rach loved this one too.  His hair was perfect for this.  You can see more on my facebook page if you want.
"Look at the light" I said.  Very cute.

This Morning, 17,000 Feet Above the Upper Midwest

The stars awaken a certain reverence, because though always present, they are inaccessible; but all natural objects make a kindred impression, when the mind is open to their influence... Nature never became a toy to a wise spirit. The flowers, the animals, the mountains, reflected the wisdom of his best hour, as much as they had delighted the simplicity of his childhood.

To speak truly, few adult persons can see nature. Most persons do not see the sun. At least they have a very superficial seeing. The sun illuminates only the eye of the man but shines into the eye and heart of the child. The lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are still truly adjusted to each other; who has retained the spirit of infancy even into the era of manhood.

In the woods is perpetual youth.

A man is fed, not that he may be fed, but that he may work.

Excerpts from Nature (1836)
R. W. Emerson

In the words of the great Dave Simon, "Shoot myself in the face."

So my "audish" as we like to say in a snooty voice in the music world was kind of dumb.  Let me rephrase that.  I am kind of dumb.

First of all, I go to audition and see that the guy auditioning me is not the full time sax guy, but rather the "guest lecturer" sax guy (according to the UI website), which means he comes on campus once in a blue moon to help give the program a good name.  The guy auditioning right before me sounds really really really good, and I think he's only a freshman.  Great.  So I go in and he has me play a couple of scales, which I wasn't planning on doing, but whatever.  I play the D diminished scale just fine, but then he asks me to play the Eb melodic minor.  Now that would have been great except that my brain decided that he'd said Eb harmonic minor, which is awkward to finger on the sax.  So not only do I play the wrong scale, but I screw it up too.  At any rate, he doesn't bother to correct me, and I don't realize what I've done until after the audition.  So next, he has me sight read this tune and improvise on it.  So I did that and was feeling pretty good about it when he asks me if I recognized the chord changes I'd just played, and my mind goes totally blank.  I know that I've heard these changes a million times and so in my nervous state I start mixing things up in my head and saying random tune names that aren't even close.  Finally he tells me "Another You."  I'm retarded.  So then he asks me what I want to play for him and that he has backing instrumental recordings to like any song.  "Just Friends" I say.  "Do me a favor and look it up on the list on that wall and tell me what volume it's in."  Now I'm staring blankly at the list and I can't think of where J is in the alphabet because I'm still thinking about how I can't believe I couldn't think of the name of that tune, and I'm making noises "uh... um..." as he waits.  Finally I focus and find the tune, but start panicking a little because it says the recording is in a different key than I've been practicing.  "Oh, well that's one you should know in two keys, at least," he says.  Again, I feel retarded.  But then, "Oh, I don't think I have that one anyway."  Great.  That was the tune I had really high hopes for.  "Do you know any Benny Golsen tunes?"  Uh... no.  "Okay, how about 'Stella?'"  I've been working on that one, so I agree, but I've been practicing it as a ballad and he's only got it at medium-up.  Whatever.  So my stressed brain is starting to check out again now and I start missing the changes that I've played who knows how many times.  Now my brain is on another planet and he wants me to play a final tune.  Well, the audition instructions said I was expected to know "All the Things You Are," so I suggest that one.  He gets this look on his face like "If I hear that song one more time I'm gonna..." and says, "yeah, you could do that... or how about Giant Steps?"  Swell!  I would just love to play that infamously difficult song with the Jamey Aebersold play-a-long which everyone knows takes it even faster than John Coltrane's original recording.  "Um, I don't think I'd be comfortable taking it at that tempo."  "*sigh* Alright... well then I guess let's just do All the Things You Are."  The recording starts with the intro, which I can't remember because I never perform it with the intro, so I just stand there looking dumb and he's looking at me like "what's wrong?"  Luckily it's a pretty short intro, and I come in at the head.  So I get done, and we talk for a few minutes, but I just want to get out as fast as I can, which I do, forgetting my mouthpiece cap of course, which I come back for later and find out he'd chased me down the hall to give it back to me but didn't find me.

In retrospect, it wasn't THAT bad.  It could have been worse.  He had some nice things to say.  I just let my nerves get ahold of me and I got flustered with all of the little things that kept going wrong.  It kind of sounded like I might get accepted, but that I probably shouldn't bet on any financial aid.  I haven't auditioned for anything (besides for Dr. Watkins every semester, which doesn't count) in like 10 years, and never for anything very important.  So I'm hoping that this will help me for my audition at Colorado next weekend.  The good thing is that I'll be backed up by a live rhythm section then, so none of this having to rely on stupid recordings.  It was a learning experience.  It's always good to get your butt kicked now and again to remind me that, oh yeah, this is no game.  I've got work to do.

Sponge Bob? No. Sponge Mom.

So Mom told me the greatest story on Sunday. She said she had all these weird stressful dreams one night last week where she had all these visitors staying the night at the house and she didn't have time to make meals for them or know where to have them sleep. And then Sis. Bessy from the ward was wearing this really sparkly tight red outfit and was getting really mad at Mom for not fulfilling her compassionate service responsibilities. And there were all these other stressful things I can't remember. So Mom woke up in panic mode while Dad was getting ready to leave. She went into the bathroom but found that she just couldn't pee, and it occurred to her that she'd had a lot of salty popcorn the night before that might have sucked her dry. So she was all panicked and flustered and came out just as Dad was about to leave and said, "I had all these stressful dreams and now I can't pee!" To which Dad just stared at her like, "Who are you?"

S. (Not P.S. because Mom absorbed the P.) Today was the first day in a long time that I went to devotional and didn't feel like fleeing from the room the whole time.

Charles Dickens' little-known sequel: Ebenezer Scroovner

I just discovered pumpkin seeds from a famous October night three and a half months ago when Jacqueline and I got in a pumpkin slime fight.  I think that means it's time for out floor's annual cleaning.  I don't know, just a hunch.  But I SWEAR I've cleaned the floor since then.  And I finally threw out the black squash that we were going to turn into bat, but by the time I threw it out it had turned orange.  Is that normal?

Grad school auditions at Illinois are this Saturday and I'm feeling totally unprepared.  At this point it's like I don't even care, just let me play and get it over with.  STRESS.  February has been the longest month of my life when it's supposed to be the shortest month.  It's been one anxiety attack after another, but thanks to good friends, especially my roommate who is never at a loss for insight and acts as if my life is the most important thing to him, I'm starting to feel more stable.

I seem to have been in the business of burning bridges these past few weeks, which is the worst kind of business to be in.  It's caused me to reevaluate my approach to relationships with other people in general.  I think the biggest lesson I've learned is the fact that I need to look for reasons to love other people rather than reasons to distance myself from them, as well as be more proactive in showing that love.  Most of my relationships with other people have been driven by those people.  My friends and family have always called me to do things, but for the most part I've rarely called them.  If I don't get a call, I just hang out alone.  It's just easier not to show love, and I can always look at a person and come up with several reasons why I shouldn't have to.  And after all, why would I voluntarily put myself through all of the stress that comes from human interaction?  Have I just not found enough love for other people that I'm willing to overcome my own discomfort and laziness to reach out to them and show them that they are loved?  Maybe.  And then I look around me and see all these people who learned that lesson so long ago and I get mired in self-pity and loathing and get discouraged to think I'm still just starting.  How did Scrooge change so fast?

Come to think of it, I used to be very loving growing up, but somewhere in my teenage years I started burying it under layers of of pride and disillusionment.  I don't know why.  It's still in there though, and it still surfaces when I'm completely honest with myself and others, which is usually when I go through humbling experiences.  Like right now.  I'd like to think that those of you who know me best can attest to that.

So to any friends and maybe even family I have alienated recently or over the years, I am sorry I tend to be more brain than heart.  I really do love you.  Far far far more than you know.  In fact, at my lowest times, the thought of all of you is very literally the only thing that keeps me going.  So thank you.