La di dah

It could have been an April Fool’s joke, except that it wasn’t. I just got back from the final concert of the jazz ensembles for this semester, held at the student pub, and it was not a satisfying experience. Very few people showed, for one thing, the acoustics in there are sketchy at best, and every single musician there plays at the same volume all the time: LOUD! As a result, both my student and I were drowned out when we sang, even though we were amplified, especially because my dear friend Kevin O had arranged the pieces in question so that the voice was doubled by the alto sax. In this case, all you could hear was alto sax. It did give me, however, an opportunity to dress in black leather (mini skirt and vest) and I did look rather fetching. But I’m not about appearances, it’s the music that moves me.

Otherwise, today was yet another exercise in more futility. I sang my solo in choir and got all sorts of wonderful compliments and felt like I was cheating somehow. The piece is My Father by Judy C0IIins, and it’s very pretty, but it’s also very simple. There is nothing difficult about it. I sing it and it’s easy to make it sound good. It doesn’t really show what I can do. Oh well. Such is life.

A transformer blew in Sh’brooke, meaning that I had no power when it came time to make supper. Luckily there was still propane in the barbecue tank, so we had barbecued fish, bread and butter and a salad by candlelight. The electricity came back on mid-meal.

Don’t you just love these totally mundane posts?

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