A huge segment of our society is lost, disconnected, wandering with no direction and resenting authority.  They are like a boat without a rudder, like a plane flown with no instruments, like a school with no discipline, like a parent with no tough love, like a child with no respect.  Our society is crumbling from the inside due to a rot which is out of control.  Most of the reporting of most of our mass media is of negative happenings and opinions.  Our entertainers, actors and athletes are using their popularity for their own personal and convoluted thoughts.  They misunderstand their role in holding our interest in their fictional or game-like contest with its fictional resolution, and the reality of our daily lives with resolutions that are finalized in pain and suffering and death.  The idealism of entertainment, sports and acting do not apply to living together day to day under laws, government and enforcement that is meant to protect us from the outlaw and maverick in our society who thinks nothing of harming the weak and innocent and is idealized in movies, television and the internet.

Thus our role models are too often without the inner compass that is needed to guide us in a subtle way toward happiness and well-being and true caring for our neighbors and friends and relatives, and even casual acquaintances.  Too many of our lawmakers are concerned with “dumbing down” and catering to the lowest and forgetting about those who actually are able to think.  They forget about their purpose in facilitating the lives of all citizens in an unfettered fashion by guidance, not just over-regulation.  These lawmakers should not be forcing issues into politics which should only be worked out by the populace in their daily lives or by the local governments who understand the issues in their own communities. Too often we are using our roles as teachers and parents to lead the young, our own young, into confusion, and not into a healthy balance in their thought processes which require limits, both implied and ingrained.

We are confusing freedom in our system of government with unlimited freedom in our daily lives. Unguided and rudderless, we are dangerously out of control when our children are left at a young age to decide not just what sex they would like to pretend to be, but also what variation of it that they may want to enjoy for as long as it suits them.  And now we even inundated with laws to enforce this travesty.  Also laws to take away the safety and protection of the unborn.  We must ask ourselves, what has happened to the mindset of our lawmakers to even consider this and many other convoluted controls.  We can only assume that they also rot from within.

Anyone who really cares about our way of life must insist upon truth brought about by clear and deep thinking, not the latest fad and fraud in the misguided and uneducated opinions of a relative few who are given an undeserved platform by our irresponsible media. Truth is being clouded and overcast by a few puppeteers with unlimited finances who are controlling our thoughts and actions.  Out of control, we crumble and rot from within.  Do we the downtrodden masses have the will to effect change?  Can we swing the pendulum back where it belongs?  The lives of each succeeding generation depend on us.

The vast majority needs to wake up to the fact that we are being bullied by those who purvey wrong thinking, and there is only one way to deal with a bully… confrontation.  This may take many different forms, but fighting back with a show of force will become necessary and vital. Truth has always won over dark thinking, but someone must make it happen. Let the silent majority get up from its collective ass and go “kick ass!”  Now…!  Before our present national stupidity becomes irreversible.  Carpe diem…!

 

The month of August is a month in a holding pattern.  It foresees the fall season with all of its activities, holidays and seasonal preparations.  It is pre-football: the practices are beginning and the pre-season playoffs begin even though the weather is hot, especially with full uniforms when in use.  It is pre-school: a time for getting the necessary books and class materials together. It is pre-harvest: at least in the store decorations.  August is also pre-playoffs and World Series with all of the excitement that will be coming.  It is pre-holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s will be rushing toward us with the ever-changing store decorations, one blending into the other faster and faster each coming year. It is also pre-weather: rain and cold weather are coming.  The leaves will be turning and colder-weather clothes have to be brought out of storage or purchased.  For a static month in a seemingly holding pattern, August gets to be very busy and cluttered.  It is also a month of organizing for the next season.

Sometimes the preparations can outshine the actual events.  The next few weeks can become anti-climactic.  If overdone, the next season can become  a downer or depressing.  This is a lot like all preparations when overdone or over-thought-out.  Enjoying the month and relaxing and letting the weeks go by at their normal pace is much healthier than a frantic must-get-it-done mode.

How do we slow down the frantic pace of living that we get pushed and pulled into and can’t exit?  Limits!  Instead of thinking about the whole month of August, we need to take it in smaller increments.  Even one day at a time is too much.  Even hours or minutes.  Time itself is the problem.  We are ruled by clocks, watches, TVs, computers, the Internet, iPads, etc.  Everything we do is connected to a time restraint.  We are locked in to our schedules, and sometimes into everyone else’s schedules, again with no exit.  No limits.  The only solution is to figure out how to leave the carousel, the treadmill, the endless highway of our lives and take control of reality.  Living in someone else’s reality is a real problem and this also limits our personal control.  Without all of the above time restraints we should be able to gain control of our lives once again, but then what?  Keeping that control is another problem.

How do we lose track of time?  What breaks the rule of the clock?  Is this even possible? Our own minds are the answer.  Our own personal lists or schedules tailored to our own personal needs.  This means limiting our exposure to TV, Internet, personal phone, and all other communication devices that sap our energies and control our minds with someone else’s agenda.  Control of all of the above is the only way to insure our own sanity.  In this way we can slow down our schedules and make our own times manageable.  We can actually breathe on our own and deal with realistic plans of our own. We can have time to enjoy ourselves and the time period we are in, the present, instead of trying to live in the future.  A much healthier mindset.

And, finally, the best way to support the above release is music.  Music releases us from the time restraints of our daily lives.  It makes sanity possible by eliminating the unnecessary elements in our lives that push us around.  Music is the glue that holds us together when we use it judiciously as a support and not a crutch.  Let us use it wisely…!

 

One of my favorite painters is Norman Rockwell and one of my favorite paintings of his is “The Four Freedoms.” July 4th is one of our greatest holidays, the celebration of our independence, which we too often take for granted.  However, at least once a year we at least think, even in passing, of our rights and freedoms.  By the way, we also too often confuse what are our rights and what are our privileges.  Rights we can point to in our laws and liberties provided by our representative government.  Privileges are customary permissions that we have grown into and taken for granted as laws, but are, in fact, not legalities,  e.g. walking along the street, driving, shopping, etc.  We don’t need permissions, we do them all of the time, but they are not regulated. The Four Freedoms presented by Norman Rockwell are: Freedom to Worship, Freedom of Speech, Freedom from Fear and Freedom from Want.  Well said, in my opinion.

Are these freedoms rights or privileges?  They used to be rights, but they are increasingly being treated as privileges which are unregulated, blurred or even looked down upon.  Do we really have free speech anymore?  Think of the college campuses that invite speakers to present a case or an idea and are shouted down by an agenda with only its own opinions.   Who regulates free speech?  Certainly not the college administration.  Do the majority of the attendees have a right to hear the opposing side of anything or are the shouters in league with the administration to limit ideas instead of presenting all sides of issues? In this case both rights and privileges are lessened, even negated. This is only one example. There are many.

Do we have freedom to worship?  Anything that has ties to religious ideas, symbols or the Bible itself is increasingly eliminated from the public forum.  The Ten Commandments cannot be posted in many places.  Public prayer has been eliminated from many gatherings and meetings.  Anything religious on a T-shirt or hat can be denigrated. Christmas symbols, Nativity scenes, etc, are discouraged in many places.  Has this right become a privilege that is now fading into nothing?  Separation of church and state does not mean that we eliminate religion entirely from our zeitgeist. Or does it?

Freedom from Want means that we are able to work to provide for our families.  It means that we are a capitalistic society that provides opportunities for all of us to find jobs and receive incomes that make life possible.  We are able to find housing, food, clothing and all of the rest of the necessities of living in our society. Extreme cases of want are provided for in relief efforts in housing, food and clothing.  This is deemed to be temporary until work is found to once again be in control of our own lives.  It is not meant to be a way of life.  Homelessness has been, and always will be, a problem wherever there are people and large cities.  The mentally impaired and those who just cannot exist in an organized society are provided for, but this rarely fixes the problem.  Mental instability is resident in any society.

The fourth freedom is Freedom from Fear.  This is an all-encompassing freedom because it affects everyone, no matter what their station in life.  Freedom from fear means that we are secure in our daily lives; that we are protected from the evils that exist in any society and that encroach on that society.  We have local law enforcement, and we have national law enforcement such as the FBI, CIA, and the military.  Our police can protect us, be we have to do our part in lessening our  vulnerability. We lock our houses and our cars.  We are alert in unprotected venues and have 911 as a back-up.  The military protects us from other nations and terrorist organizations that may want to take us over or just harm our society.  But we have to do our part also in this area.  We vote funding for our law enforcement organizations and trust them to protect us.  We support our military with our young that are able to join one of its branches.  We elect members of Congress to provide for our security by limiting access to our land without identification or credentials, and we trust them to carry out our needs and wishes. When this works we have freedom from fear.  Use your vote, but vote with intelligence.

Our freedoms are embodied in some of our music, e.g. “God Bless America,” and “America the Beautiful.”  Let us sing them in a meaningful and powerful unison.  And, please check out my patriotic music on YouTube, Spotify, Soundcloud, etc, including: “America Together,” “Celebrate Our Freedom,” and “We Thank Them,” (Memorial Day).  Music permeates our society, but we are stuck in just a few styles: Love, romance, drinking, commercials to sell products and background music used as wallpaper in many ways.  Branch out!  Start listening to more styles with many more messages and feelings.  We are free to do this on a daily basis.  Let’s get to it…!

For some unknown reason in the middle of the night I began thinking back to a dinner-restaurant (night club) in Dayton, Ohio called Suttmiller’s. So, rather than lose my train of thought, I got up and started writing down my reminiscences.

Suttmiller’s in the 60’s was a beautiful place in decor and vibrant feeling. The main theme was German with lots of red and gold walls and fixtures. The main room which held the dinners and the shows seated 500 people. There was a small stage for the band and a dance floor maybe 10′ by 12′ that was on a hydraulic lift, down for the dancing and up for the shows. The stage was lit by good stage lighting and a spotlight, the kind used in ice shows, and very bright. (and we were not allowed to wear sunglasses) There was also a smaller room off to the side in which were held small parties and banquets. And adjacent to this was a piano bar with booths where Gardner Benedict presided, knowing every tune known at the time along with the composers & lyricists and sometimes even the history. And if this wasn’t enough, he had a voluminous file as backup.

The main room is where I worked, a booth in the bar is where we sat and had a drink during the breaks. The bartenders were a bit crotchety at times, but also helpful. When customers bought the band drinks, we had to use them or lose them. So I started ordering a hamburger or a bowl of turtle soup instead of too many drinks. With a shot of sherry, the turtle soup was delicious.

I’m not sure how I first learned that the band leader, Danny Martin, was looking for a trombone player. I was in the end of the first semester of my senior year at the College-Conservatory of music in Cincinnati and I didn’t have a car. My roommate, Dave McMaken, consented to drive me to Dayton for my audition which was playing during the dance sets. The hours were 9:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. six nights a week, and after playing a set or two, I was offered the job. I, of course, accepted and was on the road to working there for about five years. In order to do this I bought a small Ford which was semi-reliable and, besides feeding it regularly with gas and oil, prayed a lot that it would start at 2 a.m. The rest of my senior year was difficult to say the least. For the second semester I had 8 a.m. student teaching and a mandate to attend a certain number of recitals in order to graduate. Mercifully, I had friends who would fill out an attendance card for me so I could graduate. And I carried a full load of classes including Russian. (Had I only known).

There was always a rehearsal with the entertainers on Monday afternoon. Usually two and sometimes three acts. Then there were three shows, 9, 11, and 1 a.m. on Monday, Friday and Saturday with dance music in between. During the week there were only two shows a night with more dance music. The dance music was simple charts of popular songs of the day and medleys of standards in which the horns and piano took solos. To play the next tune, the soloist would indicate the key by holding up fingers: one finger up (1 sharp), meant key of G, one finger down (1 flat), meant key of F and so on. Musicians: trumpet – Basil Drew; sax – Roger Decker; piano – Joe Fernandes, then “Satch.” (last name forgotten); drummer – Jimmy LaMonica then Jimmy Green; bass- Danny Martin (and sometimes alto sax). When Danny played sax, Basil would play bass, and then after a while I was able to also play bass.

All through college to graduation and beyond I drove to Dayton from Cincinnati, then from Middletown, then from Dayton when I got married. It didn’t matter what kind of weather, I drove and made it on time always. I never had snow tires or used chains, just a car (and prayers). During my second year at the club Danny vouched for me at the Chevy dealer in Dayton and I bought my first new car, a stripped down Corvair. The motor was in the back, so I put a few cement blocks in the front trunk for balance and never had a problem in any kind of weather, even when most cars were stuck at the side of the road.

At one point in time, the sax player was let go (instead of me), so on the shows I played the lead alto sax parts on trombone along with the important trombone parts. There were also lines on the sax part for flute and clarinet. The alto parts are in Eb, flute in concert C, but up an octave or two and the clarinet parts in Bb. Thankfully, I never had a problem transposing at sight. My college training was classical in nature, and orchestral trombone parts are in alto, tenor and bass clefs. I also was able to play french horn parts in F. After a year, the sax was rehired and my life was a bit easier.

The house band at Suttmiller’s contained excellent musicians and were always a pleasure to work with. No hassles, we always covered each others backs. We could read anything put in front of us, and fill in things that weren’t in front of us. We played acts from all over the world. Good charts, bad charts, we played them all. Many acts came to Dayton to refine, rewrite, and break in their material before going to New York, Las Vegas or Los Angeles. There was even one act so bad at first that they were going to be fired after the first show on Monday. In order to save them, I wrote and rewrote their music all night and into the next day, then rehearsed them so they could finish out the week. It worked and they stayed, but I was exhausted from scoring music and copying the individual parts for the band.

Some acts were an absolute joy to play behind. Carol Lawrence just off Broadway in the hit show “West Side Story” came in to refine her act before touring. Lou Rawls, Nelson Eddy, and Vaughan Monroe (who was very upset with me because someone stole the alto part of his theme son “Racing With the Moon” from my music stand). These were all hand-copied parts. I had it almost memorized and was able to finish the week suitably. There were a lot of older acts like Henny Youngman and Ted Lewis, and starting out acts like Joan Rivers and George Carlin. Acts on the rise and acts going down. Animal acts, vocal groups, Flamenco, and Adagio dancers.

This became a way of life, enjoyable but also hazardous. In a way I miss it, but I still have the memories of the people and personalities unique to this special life-style. And, because this was in the 60’s most are gone now. But recordings and films occasionally bring them back to our consciousness. And as comedian Jackie Vernon always ended his act by saying: “Just remember folks, a wet bird never flies at night.”

May you have good health and good memories…!

I have never thought much about age or the aging process. Even now when I am facing my eighth decade in life I still think the same way I always have, but my body is still changing and sometimes that takes a little getting used to. I have never paid much attention to this because my mind has always taken precedence. Both body and mind grow, however, but not always at the same or a proportional rate. I’m not quite sure what this means, but it is significant.

When I was young (in the fourth grade) we lived for a while on a farm. The farm consisted of sixty-three acres of farmland with fields for corn, trees, creeks, and a pasture with animals. We had pigs and cows and a large steer for obvious reasons. Chickens and ducks and turkeys (my least favorite), and a barn with a hay loft and pitchforks. At my age this was fun besides being a challenge in many ways. It was easy to get lost in the wilds of the fields. It was fun to play in the hayloft and jump down into the hay on the ground though this was forbidden. There might be a pitchfork or just something sharp under the soft hay. At this time I was also very interested in Indian lore. I dressed in clothes that I made myself with a headband and a feather and carried the always available bow with arrows. Furry creatures and birds grew to fear me not because of my expertise, but my inaccuracy.

I didn’t know it at the time but this experience was to be the foundation for the rest of my life. I learned many things that were only possible on a personal free range farm. Self-reliance, responsibility, directions determined by the sun or the moss on the trees, patience in finding a solution to a problem, and thought processes, including solving puzzling situations and working through difficulties. Most of these came in handy when we moved back to town and I joined the Boy Scouts. This became my next most important area of growth, a similar process to my farm days and including more of the same strengths in learning.

Through school (elementary, high and college) I concentrated on playing the trombone. I practiced and learned and this became my obsession through the next period of my life. And it employed most of the elements that I had acquired through my farm and Boy Scout days and grew to better concentration and stronger will power. My ego grew with my expertise as it must if you are to grow and achieve. (I’m still not sure that this was compatible with my first marriage). One does not lose one’s obsessions very easily or without a fight with them. But this segued into the next section of my life and the growth therein, my move to Los Angeles.

I had become estranged from my trombone after playing it from the second grade. I didn’t want to play it anymore and didn’t want to even think about it. I wanted to write. I had written arrangements for all kinds of ensembles and bands since I was a sophomore in high school. My doodles in all of my classes were of musical combinations of notes and chords. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had found a new obsession, and a new way to grow. So Los Angeles became a break with the past and a way to implement my new interest of just writing. And this is when I segued once again, this time from teaching (to survive) to church music. And this became my new interest and obsession.

Most of the music I had written and arranged before had been instrumental with a little vocal sprinkled in. But now I was dealing almost exclusively with vocal music. (a lot less parts to deal with). As my knowledge and comfort with vocal music and understanding of vocal writing grew, I began writing for not only performance, but also publication. And this is where I now reside. Happily. Sometimes stressed out, but still happy.

My early understanding of growth through the experimentation and challenges of my farm days up to the present has served me well. And I am still growing. All of us do, for we either go forward or backward. Never stand still. Life is about growth. And by growth I am speaking of the intellect, not the body. The mind, as long as it is viable goes forward, the body somewhere takes a left turn. But giving up should never be an option, just growth. Let aging do what it will. If all else fails I will fall back on the one thing that has never failed me, reading. I love to read. With music.

Long ago when I was in the second grade in a Catholic elementary school, the teacher one day asked if anyone was interested in playing a musical instrument. I’m not sure why, but I raised my hand and was sent to the music room. The nun in charge asked if I had a preference and, of course, I said “no”. I didn’t have a clue either about an instrument or what I was getting myself in to. This was one of my first formal episodes concerned with “winging it.” I ended up with a trombone. It looked interesting and much less complicated that most of the other instruments with keys and valves. It seems curious now that there were no drums around…

The next week private, once a week, lessons began and I started playing whole notes and navigating the slide and mouthpiece tentatively. By the way, I found out quickly not to inhale while moving the slide toward me. I’m not sure what lives down in the bottom of the slide, but it is very nasty. Things went along very well until the lessons got more intricate, especially if I didn’t practice enough to present them well to the teaching nun. Every now and then I got a swat across the nose, and those large gold rings they wear can hurt, and occasionally I got a bloody nose. This really helped me to practice at home more diligently. I learned the real value of practice – survival.

I played in the third grade then moved to a farm school where there were no instrumental programs. I practiced somewhat, but with no teacher I didn’t progress very well. Halfway through the fifth grade we moved back to town and I began private lessons at a local music store. Starting the seventh grade, I went to a public junior high school where I really got interested in playing with groups. I was in the orchestra and also the concert and marching bands. Playing your instrument is one thing, and marching and playing your instrument is a much different technique. The mouthpiece tends to bounce up and down while you are stepping on uneven grass or asphalt and this bubbling sound comes out. It takes some time to get this under control.

In the ninth grade I went back to a Catholic school and played with a band that was not as good as I was used to. But I started taking lessons from a professional trombonist who gave me challenging instruction for the first time. I went back to the public high school which had an excellent marching and concert band and thrived. I was seriously studying and practicing. At this time I also started playing with small dance bands, rehearsing and eventually playing small parties and dances. Not much money, but invaluable experience. Along with the playing I became interested in how the music we were playing was constructed. Who played what and how. Not much popular music was available then for bands, so I started writing and arranging little tunes that gradually started to sound believable. The first music theory I had was at band camp in the tenth grade. Everything started to make sense and I was off in parallel directions of arranging and playing. 

Next I joined the musician’s union and started playing with adult bands with a little more money for 3 or 4 hours of work for each job. The process was to dress up and, with my trombone and mutes, travel to a hotel, sit down in front of a music stand with a book (collection of individual arrangements) in front of me and play for three or four hours, usually four. Thank God my chops (lips) were strong enough. Because of all my other playing I was strong enough to last through these sometimes demanding jobs. I was now on the road to professionally “winging it.” Facing the unknown on every job and with every new band, me and my horn got better at doing this. Because bands were always looking for a trombone player, I was playing most every weekend and began to love every minute of this lifestyle.

Bigger bands had 3 or 4 trumpets, 2 or 3 trombones, 5 saxes and 3 or 4 rhythm players. This was really challenging and fun. Small groups were even more fun. There was usually a piano, bass and drummer and 1 or 2 horns: trumpet or sax or trombone in any combination. On these jobs I would walk in and stand up for 3 or 4 hours. There was no music. No music stands. We played tunes that everyone knew. The dances were slow or fast and may a Latin beat once in a while. Especially challenging when someone turns to you while you are playing and says “take the bridge.” Great if you know the song. The is “winging it” at its finest. I got used to it and loved it and it became a way of life.

During college and thereafter I could arguably read anything that was put in front of me. Classical, jazz, shows, or anything. I played Ice Shows, Circuses, Rodeos, and large arena shows in front of thousands of people. For these there was usually a rehearsal, but not always, and not always a complete run-through. Even these involved “winging it.” Be ready to walk in sit down and play whatever is put in front of you.

So my advice is to learn to “wing it” in life. Think on your feet. Dance around on your tip toes, and draw upon the experiences, personal practice and hundreds of situations that have made it possible and desirable to “wing it.” Be prepared (my Eagle Scout badge talking) to sing or play or do anything…anywhere…! And learn to love it…!