Slowing down

I just spent another Memorial Day weekend in DC. As in year’s past, it was good to get away from home, to see an old friend (Malette), to hear the roar of Rolling Thunder (above) and to eat in different restaurants. Also took in the Newseum for the first time, which I enjoyed a lot but felt overwhelmed by.

While remembering the things we did, it’s illuminating to reflect on the things we did NOT do. Saturday we had a late lunch and went back to the hotel; we were there by five I think. And that’s where were were til the next morning. No dinner – we were too full; no live music – we were too tired; no clubbing – we are too old.

Sunday we had breakfast and then returned to the room for a few hours of reading and relaxing. After Washington Opera’s Werther we went to Estadio, a Tapas place we found last year. Had another great meal and walked to the hotel. We got there by 7pm and that’s where we stayed til the morning.

We had talked about going out for ice cream; we even found a shop that was open til midnight and only half a mile away. But it didn’t happen. The energy required to get up, get dressed again and walk that half-mile – we just didn’t have it.

I remember previous trips to DC (or elsewhere) on which friends would have to beg -- or threaten mutiny -- to get me to slow down. One friend described a vacation with Walter as a “forced march.” Clearly those days are over. At least until I get a one of these motorized scooters:

A medium Hazelnut with nine sugars

That’s a quote, not a nightmare. Well, it is in fact a nightmare, but it’s also what I heard this morning as I was picking up a coffee – black, please – at Dunkin’ Donuts in New Haven’s Union Station.

Nine sugars!

Is it any wonder that America is suffering from an epidemic of Type 2 Diabetes?

Nine sugars. Geez.

Now I’m not one to talk. I was diagnosed with diabetes several years ago and I do eat badly sometimes. But a person who orders a coffee with nine sugars likely drinks it that way all the time, so there’s no escaping the reality, or, likely, the effects, of her choices.

Nine sugars -- in twelve ounces of coffee. How is that possible?

Again, I am guilty of loving my sweets. Please don’t tell Don, but the saddest thing about him not joining me in DC is that he won’t be bringing me Cream Horns from Westhampton Bakery in Richmond. I love them with a passion equal to what some men bring to sports contests. I was so looking forward to one.

That’s a lie. I was looking forward to half a dozen.

I blame this all on my Mom. She was a graduate of the Fat-Baby-Is-A-Healthy-Baby school. She might have gotten an advanced degree.

Scene: the Foery family household.

Dramatis personae: Mom, my friend Chuck, me

Mom: Have some more chicken and rice, Chuck.

Chuck: No, thank you, Mrs. Foery; it was delicious, but I’m quite full.

Mom: You didn’t like it?

Chuck: No, really, it was wonderful, but three servings was enough.

Mom, picking up the bowl: Here, Walter, pass this to Chuck.

So it’s not my fault. Really, it’s not. I was trained to be this way. And I’m an Army brat after all, so I obey orders.

Hmmm, I wonder if the café car still has donuts.

37,941

Any idea what that number is?

Here are some more: 2,330 / 6,125 / 1,323 / 18,635 / 94.78

And a clue: it’s because I am so gotdam anal that I can share them with you.

Another clue: I love music and have been collecting it for over 50 years.

37,941 is the number of songs in my 4E Songs database

2,330 is the number of CDs in my collection: pop, rock, R&B, soul, folk, country, show tunes and more

6,125 is the number of classical musical compositions on CD or in digital download

1,323 is the number of individual classical CDs (or multi-disc sets)

18,635, the number of individual tracks in my laptop's iTunes library

94.78 = the Gigabytes that music occupies.

And a bonus number: 161 downloaded CDs that exist only electronically

Too much music? Too anal?

Get outta here!

It all started simply enough: once I had, say, 100 CDs it wasn’t always easy to find a particular song I wanted to hear. This was, of course, in the days before downloads: all my music existed on physical CDs. If I wanted to hear a Rolling Stones tune that was easy: I just headed for the R’s and found the disc I wanted. (I leave for another day the debate on whether the Stones should be filed under "S".) But what if I wanted to hear Puddin’ n’ Tain by the Alley Cats? I didn’t have any Alley Cats CDs; it was on a compilation CD somewhere, but which one?

A database was the answer. Using Q&A, a now defunct software program, I created a simple dbase to keep track of song, artist and disc. In the years since 1986 I bought dozens of compilation CDs – discs with several different artists – and manually entered hundreds of song titles. I only did compilation CDs because, again, it was easy to find a Rolling Stones song, or a Beatles tune.

The collection grew and grew. I now have over 550 compilation CDs. Imagine what it would be like trying to find one particular song.

Then, when iTunes was released, suddenly it became much easier to enter music titles into my database, now running on FileMaker Pro. Just pop a disc into my computer and there’s all the info I need, right on the screen. Copy to Excel, import to FileMaker – no typing required.

So what did I do? Well, the only thing any self-resecting Virgo would do: I went back and cataloged all those one-artist discs. At the time I did that, there were thousands. Took quite a while, but, when finished, it was beautiful. ALL our music, classical too, brilliantly organized in computer files.

And the things you can learn by poking around those files:

I have 354 songs with the word blue in the title; another 358 with blues -- only 93 with red, 70 green and 26 yellow.

I have 27 Beatles titles (40 total discs), 11 Stones titles. Below is the list of artists who score more than 10 discs in my collection. Note that, tied with the Beatles, is Steve Forbert, an artist who had only one hit song (in 1980) but has always been a favorite of mine.

Various  (553)

Original Cast  (99)

Soundtrack  (78)

The Beatles (27)

Steve Forbert (27)

Bob Dylan (24)

Ella Fitzgerald  (19)

Barbra Streisand (15)

Peter, Paul & Mary (14)

Rod Stewart (14)

Ray Charles (13)

Frank Sinatra (13)

The Who (13)

Elton John (12)

Alan Parsons Project (12)

Otis Redding (12)

Dire Straits (11)

Rolling Stones (11)

Simon & Garfunkel (11)

Fascinating stuff, right?

Whaddayamean, no?!

Oh, and you can click here to listen to Steve Forbert’s one radio hit.

The latest must-have device

I saw an ad on TV for the Hopper, Dish Network’s new DVR and I skipped through it because, a.) I skip through almost all ads and b). I’ve looked into Dish Network and it’s not for me.

But then came this article in the New York Times online. Turns out the Hopper has one very special feature: it can automatically skip all advertisements. No more fast-forwarding, no more backing up because I went too far. The device records the ads but just doesn’t show them to you. All you see is programming.

The networks are of course up in arms. They can’t produce shows without ad revenue. And of course Dish Network can’t survive without television shows, virtually all of which -- not just at the major networks -- are created with ad money. So where will this end? Hard to say.

But it’s a fascinating idea. Would I pay extra to have a device that automatically spared me from Madison Avenue’s screamingly-loud, sophomorically-stupid, endlessly-repetitive adverts? Abso-f*ing-lutely!

It’s ironic that I’m hearing about the Hopper at this particular time. Most mornings I have 30-60 minutes of quiet time when I’m downstairs having tea, checking email, or putting away the dishes before the herd descends from upstairs. Ransom tends to stay up later than I, so sleeps in a bit longer too. The other day he came down right after me and I ended up sitting with my cereal and tea in front of the television. I thought, I’ll just catch one news story and then go back to getting ready for work.

There was an ad on. I muted the TV, ate my cereal and waited. And waited. And waited some more. I finished my breakfast before the ads finished their run!

I was stunned -- remember, I virtually NEVER sit in front of live TV -- so I went back to the beginning, when I had started watching. (TiVo automatically records as you watch). I counted the ads. Fourteen! That’s not a typo. 14 ads in a row before the local news show returned. And in fact, there may have been more, since I don’t know what was on just before I started.

14 ads in a row! And people put up with this? I don’t, and I can’t imagine who would. What I can imagine is that there will be a ready market for the Hopper. I look forward to TiVo offering a like service.

All of the sacrifices we made bought nothing but a black marble wall in Washington.

The poster for the film of Dalton Trumbo's brilliant anti-war novel

My friend Brenda pointed me to this article and after reading it I decided to share it with you. It’s not the best-written piece in the world, and there is at least one glaring typo, but the sentiment, especially when you consider who wrote it, is strong and important.

Years ago my mentor Stephen taught me that we choose virtually everything that happens to us, except for accidents. We have wars because we want to have wars. If we didn’t want them, we wouldn’t have them. It’s within our power to stop them.

Thanks, Brenda.

On another front, now that the furor has died down a bit about Mitt Romney’s role as a scissor-wielding bully, I thought I’d weigh in with one thought. It was actually well voiced by Charles M. Blow in the Saturday, May 12, 2012 New York Times in an Op-Ed piece titled “Mean Boys”. (You can read it here.)

Blow argues that when Romney said, “if someone was hurt or offended, I apologize” it was not a real apology. A real apology is based on feeling remorse, not on whether or not someone else felt hurt. Aside from the fact that I do not believe for a moment that Romney doesn’t remember the incident – yes, he lied – he clearly has a malfunctioning conscience if he doesn’t feel compelled to apologize without the qualifications.

I particularly noticed this because this experience mirrored my own. I was bullied when I was a kid; I was repeatedly pushed around and hit. When years later I confronted my tormentor he said, “if I did those things, I’m sorry.”

IF ?

IF ??!!

You DID those things, I just told you so. There’s no IF. Even if you don’t remember all the specifics, own up to the facts and express remorse. Don’t dally with it; don’t try to call my account into question.

To this day I have never fully forgiven this person, and I expect I never will. Not as long as he avoids full responsibility.

Ditto for Mitt.

Finally, some last thoughts on the Robert Lepage Ring at the Met: overall, I loved it, though that has more to do with Wagner’s orchestral writing than with anything else. The music is simply breathtakingly beautiful -- powerful and moving too.

The production’s use of video is astounding and “the machine” is remarkable, though I have to say, it eventually wore out its welcome. It seemed that every scene began with the machine in one position and with no video display; then slowly it would rise or lower, twist and turn into place, coming alive with images, all the while broadcasting an inescapable “aren’t I cool?” vibe. (Click here for a short video of one "the machine's" non-moving star turns.)

The singing was almost all stellar, though, as already noted, Deborah Voight was not having a particularly good Ring. Her Brünnhilde was wan and her singing was often not full-throttle. Stephen Gould’s Siegfried on the other hand, was a marvel. Ditto the Met Orchestra, which proved once again it is at the very top of American ensembles, though, in truth, John Keenan’s languorous tempos in Götterdämmerung made an already long opera even longer and slower than it needed to be. And while I’m thinking of it, let me say that three different conductors for the four Ring operas is just not a good idea.

Finally, it was a great treat to take two of our meals in the employee cafeteria backstage at the Met. There’s something very cool about hanging out with the musicians who just played their hearts out for two hours and are about to do so again for three more. Thank you, Ransom!

All in all, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. Will I do the Ring again? Absolutely. Will I do this Ring again? Maybe.

New York Thoughts

As regular readers know, I am in New York fairly often. However, I am rarely in the city during the day.

And I’m glad. This morning, as we were leaving the hotel, I surprised Ransom by suggesting we take a cab to Grand Central. Normally I’d walk the quarter mile or so to the subway, take it down to 42nd Street and transfer to the shuttle to Grand Central. But, aside from the walking, that involves a good number of stairs and I wasn’t up for that while schlepping our bags.

So we took a cab. It took FOREVER – and cost ten bucks more than the subway. We did make the train, but only just. Had we taken the subway there would have been time for a pit stop -- not so with a taxi.

The moral, not news to any New Yorker: taxis are the slowest and most expensive way to get around midtown during the day.

As for that hotel we left, the staff couldn’t have been nicer and though the breakfast room was far too small for the numbers it served, there was coffee and tea, toast, muffins and donuts, hot and cold cereal, yoghurt and even sausage and eggs (of a sort). The Wi-Fi was free, if sporadically working, the bed was too soft and, as noted previously, the room was unbelievably small. The queen-sized bed left less than a foot on one side and on the other little more than enough space for the room door to open. Accessing the closet meant shimmying sideways, as did getting into the bathroom. And the rate was $179 a night. Unfortunately, it’s really hard to do any better in Manhattan.

But the thrill of being in New York still excites me. The Korean meal after Rheingold was excellent; even better was the Turkish food at Pasha on our free night. Add to that the sinfully sweet cake slices from Magnolia bakery and shopping at the expansive Trader Joe’s, with its double escalator: one side for people, one for shopping carts, magically kept level (check it out here) – it was a great trip.

Siegfried last night was enjoyable, though the final scene, when the hero wakens Brünnhilde, was another one of those too-long duets that Wagner revels in. Still, the music was phenomenal, though I’m reminded of an Opera Without Words LP of Carmen I once owned. At the time I liked it far better than the real opera. That has changed, as far as Carmen goes; as for Wagner, well, I’ll hold my counsel.

The video effects continue to enchant. When the Forest Bird made its entrance in act two both Ransom and I were convinced it was a three-dimensional flying creation, not the video image it turned out to be.

 I’m writing the first draft of this on the train to New Haven. (Yes, the same one the Smash cast pretends to take to Boston). This afternoon I pick up the dogs and then settle in for a quiet night at home and a long sleep in our own bed. Ransom, who never stops, has to go to a degree recital. But he too will sleep in our bed, which by itself is almost as big as that hotel room.

Back Saturday for the nearly six-hour conclusion to the Ring, Götterdämmerung.