Piano Improvisation Number 1

McNeil High School Drum Line at Belton Drum Line Invitational Competition
Photo by: Suna

It was a weekend of music—occasional, programmatic, and metaphoric. There was Friday night football, a Saturday afternoon drum line competition, and a Sunday morning debut.

Marching Band

The weekend started Friday night with a trek to Belton to watch the McNeil football team take on the Belton Tigers, whom I kept thinking of as the Bulldogs from last week. We sat with some other band parents, one of whom was upset that the band did not act like the one she was in 12,543 years ago.

At one point, Belton scored a TD. They paraded three B flags in front of the home stands in celebratory ecstasy. I wondered why they were celebrating the Better Business Bureau. There were several other moments of near humor as we watched McNeil squeak by 25-23. Like when I noticed Belton’s twirler had the same swirling flag as their dancers. I said, “Look. The twirler has a swirly thing, too.” But all some of the other parents heard was, “The twirler has a swirly.” They wondered what a toilet was doing on the field.

The band program, however esoteric and inaccessible, is coming along well. The band looks and sounds much better with each passing week. I still don’t get the somniphobia theme—as if the kids don’t have enough to worry about without being programed for insomnia.

Beccano and Cymbals
Photo by: Jim Jones

Drum Line

Saturday brought another trek to Belton, this time to watch a drum line competition. Beccano played the swirly cymbal and a crash symbol. He did really well, although I think some of the other bands may have scored better because their music was more accessible. McNeil’s music was written by one of the directors and was very difficult. I was impressed by the students’ ability to memorize it and play it so well.

Round Rock High and Cedar Park High were two of the other star bands there. Cedar Park had 50 people in their drum line (the part on the side line that does not march). For comparison, Belton calls their band the Marching 100. Both of these bands were very impressive, and their selections, while no less difficult, were much more accessible.

Piano Improvisations

So we wrap up the weekend in church on Sunday morning. The music director’s son played a mini-recital for the prelude and postlude. He is currently studying music in college, and the two pieces he performed were piano improvisations he had composed. (How can an improvisation be composed?) Both had nice timing changes and interesting accidentals. I can’t remember which one had a large section based on minor seconds.

The improvisations tied in nicely with the first sermon delivered by our new intern minister. His sermon was titled “No Wrong Notes.” It was inspired by a jazz pianist at the resort where he honeymooned this summer. The guy told him, “In improvisation, it doesn’t matter which note you play. There are no wrong notes. What matters is which note you play next.”

This philosophy ties in nicely with UU theology. Life is one long jazz improvisation, and we are all in the band together. There are no wrong notes so long as we follow up with a correct action. The sermon was much longer and much more eloquent, but that was its thesis.

A Good Year for the Roses

Julia Childs Rose
Photo by: Weeks Roses

What a good year for the roses

Many blooms still linger there

The lawn could stand another mowin’

Funny I don’t even care

—Elvis Costello

It was a good year for roses at the Granger house, despite the neglect I visited on them. They all did well, except for the Julia Childs in the front hedge, which was somewhat overtaken by the grass. Hopefully, it will recover.

The good news is that I finally closed on the house today. I should have cash in the bank tomorrow and several fewer bills to pay each month. This chapter is finally over.

Red, Red Wine

Frontera Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot

Just had to say a few words about this wine. I don’t speak wine-ese, but I think you’ get the point.

Frontera (Frontier) is one of the labels of Concha y Toro (Shell and Bull) Vineyards of Chile. The bottle pictured is a wonderful blended wine: 85% Cabernet Sauvignon, 15% Merlot. It has just the right balance of sweetness, acidity, and flavor. It is not too sweet, not too dry, a little fruity and still has a rich full flavor that reminds me of…ummm…wine.

This is a very nice dinner wine. We had this bottle with two different meals—beef and chicken. It complemented both.

When I find that elusive job, I am definitely going back for a few more bottles, maybe a case.

Are You Ready for Some Football?

Tubaboy plays at sunset
Photo by: Suna

Last night I went to my first high school football game in more years than I care to mention here. I’ll admit I went primarily out of a sense of obligation, but I really had fun. Not yelling-yourself-hoarse fun, but fun. I did yell.

I sat on the top row of the visitor section in Temple, right next to the sousaphone section of the band. Tubaboy was within reach. Becanno was hidden in the percussion section much farther down.

The team was expected to lose by a big margin, but they won 38-28, even though the QB threw five interceptions in the first half. There was some really good play on the field, and I found myself sucked into the vortex that is football fandom. I don’t expect to learn each players’s stats (or even their names), but there are a few really good players.

But the reason I went was the band.

They were very impressive for the first performance. They all seemed to know their parts; Tubaboy even had many of the pep pieces memorized. The marching program was on the esoteric side: “This is what really happens when you go to sleep.” I would not have known it was a nightmare sequence if it had not already been explained to me. It was visual enough, and the playing was good. But huh?

Next week is a home game. I look forward to seeing the performance from stage front instead of backstage (that is, the visitor’s section). Maybe it will make more sense then.

Heart of a Dragon

Religious Jewelry: Dragon and Pentacle Necklace

While cleaning out the drawer to a nightstand today, I found a dragon pendant that had been given to me. I remember feeling slighted when I got it. It was so tiny, and X2’s crystal was much larger and nicer. I put the poor dragon away and didn’t see it again for years.

When I found this small dragon today, it started me thinking about a sermon that Rev. Chuck recently presented on the significance of religious jewelry. Religious jewelry has meaning beyond its monetary value. Its value derives from the meaning invested in it by the wearer. It should remind the wearer of some spiritual value or quest.

In this case, the pentacle reminds me that I walk with my head toward Heaven. I have power through the four elements, and I must remember to use that power well and wisely—and to remain balanced.

The dragon is also a symbol of power. It is an emissary of the Spirit to the Material plane. I now see that no gift is small. The dragon reminds me to master my ego and appreciate the things I have been given. I have so much to be thankful for.

Remembering the sermon, I tied the dragon to my pentacle so that they can guide me together. Unlike, Rev. Chuck, I do take off my religious jewelry. I often go for days at a time without wearing it. But when I do wear it, it reminds me to try to be a better person, to focus on the things that I value and to live this life as well as I can.

Guest Room in Progress

Oh, and speaking of the room I was fixing up when I found the dragon pendant again, here is a picture. Suna and I will soon have some art work on the walls to make it feel more welcoming and curtains to make it feel warmer. But the fresh paint and new bedspread are a start.

A Country Boy Can Survive

At 84, Dad still worries about the future.
 

Suna and I went to see my dad this weekend. We drove down to the farm when Suna got off work on Saturday, spent some time chatting, and then took Dad into Victoria for dinner—which he insisted on buying.

We ate at a Texas Roadhouse. Dad and Suna each had a small sirloin, and I had a pork chop. Their steaks were very good. Dad said it was the best steak he had eaten in years, even if it was the only steak he had eaten in years. My pork chop was seasoned as if it were a steak, and the seasoning really didn't work that well. They also brought it out with a dark brown gravy that reminded me of salty ditch water. Luckily, the gravy was on the side.

These sunflowers really are taller than Suna. They’re even taller than me!
 

The roadhouse atmosphere was played to the hilt, and I even got Dad to throw some peanut shells on the floor. That really went against his upbringing. You could see that he was embarrassed but secretly enjoyed it.

After dinner, we drove around Victoria showing Suna the sites. “There’s a car dealership. There’s a car hospital. There’s a used car dealership. There’s another car dealership. Oh, look! There’s another car hospital.”

This morning, Dad had his stomach pain again. He won’t eat at all on days when the pain afflicts him. Luckily, he said it was a very light attack, and we were hoping it would have subsided enough for him to eat dinner.

We sat around talking until we had to leave to check on the kids. One the way out, I snapped a couple of pictures of Suna, Dad, and the farm. The sunflowers shown here are along the fence of a neighboring farm.

Dinner at the Ritz

Chris Gage
(I couldn’t find a pic of Michael Austin)
Photo Source: Albert & Gage
 

OK. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it ends with a Z. We went to Artz Rib House to have dinner and watch a couple of Suna’s friends perform. I had the South Austin Burger, and I have to say that it was the best hamburger I have ever eaten. It had a rich smoky flavor and was onion-licious.

Playing were Chris Gage and Michael Austin. They played a wonderful mix of old-fashioned bluesy jazz with Chris on piano and guitar, Michael on clarinet. I kept thinking that my dad would really enjoy the music, if not the vocals. He prefers more Andrews-sister arrangements for vocals. But I liked it all.

We are going back there soon to have dinner with an old high school chum. I am looking forward to the reunion and the food. I’m sure the music will be good, no matter who is playing. I will talk more about the atmosphere when I post about that dinner.

Box of Rain

Suna and I Play at Church
Photo by: John Montgommery

Guitar Bill asked Suna and I to accompany him in three Grateful Dead songs at church today.

• Eyes of the World, a long song that features a choppy America-esque rhythm guitar line with the Dead’s disregard for key.
• Broke Down Palace, song that I thought was longer than appropriate.
• Box of Rain, the most enjoyable of the three songs—and the most commercial.

Even though I thought the songs were interminable—or maybe just terminal—many of the congregation seemed to enjoy them. They were at least polite. The Choirmaster even complimented me on my bass playing and said I had to do more of it some time.

Shows what I know.

So what were we doing playing these tunes at church? Search me. The only thing I can figure is that they all have at least one vaguely spiritual moment without ever mentioning God or any other divinity, power, principality, essence, or spirit by name. They were not inconsistent with the sermon, which was about how an atheist came to join a Christian church.

Adios, Ladybird

Ladybird and Lyndon Johnson (1968)
Photo Source: LBJ Library

Today we lost someone who has done great things for Texas and the country. Former first lady Ladybird Johnson died at her home this afternoon at the age of 94.

In spite of all the controversy that surrounded her—Viet Nam profiteering, her involvement in high finance, the expansion of the first lady’s role in government—I always thought of her as a kind, gentle figure. But the Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin remains her greatest legacy as far as I’m concerned.

Chattanooga Choo Choo

Cannon from the Battle above the Clouds
Photo by: Beccano

To avoid some of the traffic problems I encountered on the way up to North Carolina, we decided to go home through Tennessee. We stopped at the Hayward Rest Area near the gorge that divides North Carolina and Tennessee. Unfortunately, the view from the westbound side of the freeway isn’t nearly as pretty as the one from the eastbound side. But we got to go through the tunnel, both sides of which are now open.

We ate lunch in a Krystal burger joint just outside of Knoxville. It was the first time I have ever had such tiny burgers. They were a novelty and tasted OK, but I wouldn’t want to eat them regularly.

Then we stopped for a while at Cloudland Canyon State Park, just south of Chattanooga. This was the site of Battle of Lookout Mountain—AKA, “The Battle above the Clouds” because it was fought above a semi-permanent fog bank. The Union Army overran the Confederates who were stationed in Chattanooga. One of the final straws was the Union Army got inside the range of the Confederate cannons on the mountain. When the Rebels tried to aim at the advancing union army, the cannon balls rolled out of the muzzles before the powder could ignite.

I bought a commemorative T-shirt. (I love T-shirts.) And we took pictures of Suna, Beccano, and me standing by a cannon. Suna has photos of her standing by or on the cannons at every stage of her life. (Note: the cannon is not the same one. This is a Union cannon that is being used while the Confederate cannons are out being refurbished.)

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7/13/2007 Update

I wore the T-shirt today. One of my work buddies saw it and told me that his family once owned much of the land that the park now occupies. Georgia condemned it when his grandmother refused to sell. His great grandmother’s family owned the land before the war. His great grandfather was a Union officer who fell in love with the country side and moved to the area after the war. The rest, as they say, is history—or biology.