The Year of Living Musically
I’ve been asked to compose a piece for narrator and string orchestra related to Passover, for a performance in New Jersey just before the holiday. The music is still coming together, but here’s the text as it now stands:
On Wednesday, 24 January 2007, The “Wednesdays at Grace” performance series presents:
D’MAMAH (דממה)
(Hebrew for “Still,” as in “a still, small voice”)
Performing “Badbury Rings,” “Banquet of Heaven,”
“Te lucis ante terminum,” and other works and improvisations
7 pm
Berkeley, CA 94709
Open to the public without charge
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Christmas is over. And, as predictably as the taking down of Christmas lights and the half-off sales on the foot-tall black, gold, and fuchsia plastic trees, it’s time for the retail workers to get sick. I’m no exception.
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After many months of working afternoon and evening shifts, heading outside to go to work in the morning can be quite disorienting. All the shadows are on the wrong sides of things.
She walks, a straight line moving in silence through a room crowded with noise. Even as she frowns, she smiles, full lips set in a stasis of beauty that drifts, undisturbed, above the sound.
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As closing time approached, I went around the music floor to make sure all of the customers had left. One that I had seen earlier didn’t seem to be around, though I hadn’t seen him leave. “Is Tracksuit Man still here?” I asked another worker.
A voice came from the far side of a bookshelf. “Yes, I am.”
Oops.
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Thanks to all who responded about my Bluetooth problem and keypad confusion. John’s comment, erudite as always, explained the odd history of keypads in a way that made sense of things (though my hands will remain confused until my brain convinces them of how things are).
Ron’s comment explained what I needed to do to get things working.
Here I am again, trying not to go to bed angry after having spent several hours battling to get my technology to do something that should be dead-simple.
I just got a Bluetooth USB dongle for my laptop, so I can send photos to it from my phone more easily. Setting up Bluetooth on both the phone and the laptop seem quite easy–until I get to the point where each is asking for some sort of passcode.
They came up the escalator together: a very tall man, with grey hair and an expensive-looking coat, and a much smaller woman, also grey-haired, but with a coat that, if equally expensive, didn’t seem designed to say anything about the wearer. When I asked them if I could help them find anything, they spoke simultaneously. I think she said something about Mozart operas; he, much more loudly, said, “No, we don’t need anything. She’s sleep-deprived.”
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My New Year’s Eve was quiet. After I got off work at 7:30, I headed home, where one of my housemates cooked dinner for the group of us. We contemplated various activities, then ended up kicking back with a magnum of Anchor Steam winter ale and watching a DVD. We noted when midnight hit, and all said that we were glad to see 2006 go.
Another housemate wondered idly if 2007 was a prime number. After about a minute, still watching the movie, I announced that it wasn’t, since it was equal to 223 times nine.
A third housemate looked over at me. “Did you just figure that out in your head?”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I’m that kind of a geek.”
Actually, though, figuring it out wasn’t hard.