Too much time on my hands�damn summer vacation!
8:06 a.m.
When I was a kid, before the music bug got me so completely, I wanted to by a psychologist. I even took a couple of pyschs as a minor when I did my music degree, and at one point I was enamored of Carl Rogers� client-centered therapy, seeking out and reading several of his books. The year before I finally headed off to unversity was spent volunteering on the phones at the Toronto distress centre, counselling mostly young people, occasionally calling the police when a suicide had already taken the pills or slit the wrists, and dealing with the usual share of lonely people who had found a place where they were listened to unconditionally, and of couse masturbators. Our policy with the latter was to simply hang up.
While I loved that work and felt that I was truly doing some good in the world, I was still pretty young and inexperienced myself (20-21) in just living. It took its toll and I burned out after a year of it. I don�t know if I could go back to doing that kind of thing again. Dealing with sad people is very stressful.
While I was mesmerized by the computer monitor yesterday, Hubby was working on the songs his brother had sent him for this gig they are doing next Saturday. I heard H�tel California repeatedly for hours in snippets. The line �Some dance to remember, some dance to forget� was forever branded in my brain. Apparently it has a really hard lead guitar part, since it is actually a guitar duet, and he�s trying to learn it as a solo.
Like so many kids, Hubby got into the whole classical music thing after starting as a rocker. At age 16 he sold his guitar and amp and bought a classical guitar, cut his waist-length hair, and proceeded to study theory, music history, and composition. Now he is one of Canada�s most prolific composers, and if the influx of requests is any indication, one of the most sought after as well.
Well, as often happens in life, things come full circle. He bought his electric guitar last December, ostensibly as a composition tool for this kind of ensemble, but of course could not resist the temptation to try all those screaming leads he played so well as a kid. What he has found in this mad rush to learn these songs (some of which he had never heard of before) is that he has such an incredible grasp of harmony that it is easier than anything. He also has the dexterity that he lacked then, due to the classical guitar practice. But he has commented on the fact that (for the most part) untutored rock musicians have an advantage in that they do things intuitively without worrying about a suspension resolving correctly, or if one chord actually fits in the key being played. They go by what sounds good, and many classical musicians would never be able to reconcile these contradictions to what they learned in 2nd-year theory.
Vlad has invited us over for dinner tonight, along with John and Sarah H. (she taught singing in the department for ages until her retirement three years ago) and someone else whose name I have forgotten. I will endeavour to stay away from this magic box and do something useful today, like sewing, or berry-picking and jam-making. Hmm. We�re out of sugar. That will never do.
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