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15 July 2007 @ 09:15 am
Celebration  

Lovely party yesterday. Despite napping a little Friday night, I wasn’t able to rouse myself sufficiently to attend the picnic during the day—Susan and Gavi went and said it was a lovley time. Was able to roll myself out of bed at more-or-less my usual time and head over for some of the Harriet Manor portion of the party. Susan was too pooped to pop, but Gavi came along.

Music broke out in the usual place shortly after I’d arrived and, after one rousing Kurt song, relocated to the Tiki sauna in the basement so the folks on the second floor could have some hope of getting some sleep.

The first time the circle came to me I had to pass—I wasn’t at all sure I’d be able to remember all the songchords or find the energy to get all the way through a song or, I dunno, something. I was feeling strange, out of phase, not entirely in true; you know, sort of at a 23° skew. Not 30°, 45°, 60°, 90°, or another of those regular, predictable angles that you can eventually figure out how to cope with, no. Something strange and funky. I reckon this may have been in part because my Ritalin prescription ran out early in the middle of the week and I hadn’t had the chance to refill it, in part because the management where I work have temporarily taken leave of their senses and I’m still reeling and off-balance from the shock of seeing what had been a very pleasant workplace regress to kindergarten at a military academy, in part because … well … who knows? Probably because I’m the kind of guy who finds himself in that sort of state more often than most people appear to.

I noticed Bonnie drinking a bottle of Raspberry-flavoured hard cider (wossbrand? Old Woodchuck or something?) and asked her if she could get me a bottle (despite the scary overtones of the possibly incipient Boonsfarming of the brand). She kindly made her way over to the camouflaged refrigerator in the corner and snagged me a bottle. I also had a toot of Chas’s wuskey. I figured that a little to drink could only make my state of mind weirder and that one of the possible directions it might then go would be to make it easier to think that I could actually play guitar and sing and thereby make music.

I was forlornly perusing my songlist in hopes of coming across a “fail safe” number—one I’d feel confident I could perhaps stumble through and perhaps even get the hang of by the end and finish well (since, after all, all’s well that ends well)—and hadn’t yet felt I’d found one when the circle got back to me. So …whattheheck … I launched into “Quinn the Eskimo.” Amazingly enough, all my ducks snapped immediately to attention and queued up as nice as you please, and “Quinn” rolled along not just sorta well but rather swimmingly. It felt good, it felt on, when I’d rush or lag it was the right amount and I’d still make the point, it felt … right. It sounded good to me and apparently sounded good to everyone else as well. It certainly didn’t hurt that the rest of the musicians and singers were at, or exceeding, their usual supportive best, but I think most of the difference was something internal rather than external.

And then I finished the song.

And immediately found myself back in front of the funhouse mirror; out wandering the wasteland. Which, again, was entirely internal. Every one made good, beautiful, interesting music by turns, and I should have found it entirely wonderful and engaging (and, in fact, did to some extent), but…

It went like that the whole evening. I’d be wandering out by the rings or in the belt or maybe even around Barsoom, Borderlands, or Ankh-Morpork and then the song’d come around to me and we’d nail it and all would be right with the world and then it would pass on and Rod Serling would step around the corner and talk to me…

Maybe I’d best get my Ritalin prescription filled today…

 
 
Current Mood: okayokay
 
 
 
Peter Hentgesjbru on July 15th, 2007 02:46 pm (UTC)
An intriguing description of the internal Freditude! Wish I could have been there as it sounds like a lovely time indeed. Ah, the melancholy intrusions that life does make to us at times. Sigh.

Sorry to hear work has gotten all wonked again. I hope this particular round of madness passes from them quickly and, thereby, from you as well.
Stephen Leighsleigh on July 15th, 2007 03:28 pm (UTC)
I'm glad Rod left you alone during your lead turn, at least!

And damn, you guys have too many good music parties... I'm profoundly jealous. :-)
Marybraider on July 15th, 2007 03:42 pm (UTC)
Or maybe you should sing more? ;-)
Matthew B. Tepper: Ducklings awwwasimovberlioz on July 15th, 2007 03:44 pm (UTC)
Amazingly enough, all my ducks snapped immediately to attention and queued up as nice as you please
Isn't it great when that happens?
starstraf on July 15th, 2007 04:42 pm (UTC)
They are adjusting my meds so I'm sort of doing some of the same - glad you at least had some magic music moments.
I'm feeling anti-social and Pooch wants to plan my birthday and i'm currently feeling I don't want anyone there - so he's going to ask again in two weeks once med have regulated
Chaschasophonic on July 15th, 2007 04:59 pm (UTC)
Glad to have you making music with us more often. From what you say it seems the right thing for you to do. For some of us, music is life. Our natural state of being.
Mizz Laura Jeanmizzlaurajean on July 15th, 2007 05:09 pm (UTC)
You were great!

Go get ur meds! Take care of the Fredcritter!
The Nearest Exit May Be Behind You90_percent_sure on July 15th, 2007 05:19 pm (UTC)
Also
You had this big pink flower growing out of your head. I tried to tell you...


Stephen Leighsleigh on July 15th, 2007 06:37 pm (UTC)
Re: Also
Wow, Fred sure looks purty!
Alice, Sweet Alice: Flamingo Feetsweetalice on July 15th, 2007 06:50 pm (UTC)
Re: Also
Your big pink flower really suits you! And it goes so nicely with your bear shirt!
markiv1111 on July 15th, 2007 11:46 pm (UTC)
Music
One of the things I often find intriguing is when my friends who are also musicians talk a bit about how they feel about playing, when they play, whether it's an ongoing thing, a recurrent thing, or unique to a specific event. It's kind of hard for me to talk about how I feel when playing music because it's a bit too much like talking about how I feel when I breathe. But maybe your post will get me started.

Nate
Profgeek/John Purcellprofgeek on July 16th, 2007 12:48 pm (UTC)
Re: Music
Playing music in public is always an interesting experience. I have always been a little edgy about doing it and, like Fred, sometimes wonder if I'll remember the right words and chords. I brought my guitar to Corflu Quire - when Graham Charnock learned that there was a real Fender Acoustic in the building, he was after me (scary sight!) - but I didn't feel comfortable enough to play anything at any time. So early Saturday evening I did about an hour's worth of practicing in my room on various songs I haven't played in years ("Black Water," "Lola," and some originals). But usually once I get going, things click into place and I'm fine.
madtrukmadtruk on July 16th, 2007 02:39 pm (UTC)
I am so glad to hear you again.

In the not useful but understanding vein, all I think about is music lately. Do you remember the conversations about musicians not being social? I still laugh when I think about how Bob Berlien tricked us into a party in his hotel suite (Minicon, of course) and then promptly locked all of our guitars in their closet, forcing us all to talk for an entire evening.

How excruciating!
A monstrous ramblingbibliofile on July 17th, 2007 02:48 am (UTC)
Hah! And to think that this guy has done childcare professionally . . .

Sympathy with the mood trickiness. But that pink flower coming out of your head might explain a few things.
gomeza on July 16th, 2007 05:13 pm (UTC)
how to leverage that 23 degree skew!
I think you should have your hair redone so it all sticks up at a 23 degree angle.

Then you'd have a 23 skew-do!

Sorry, it was there, I hadda do it.
aszanoni on July 17th, 2007 05:04 am (UTC)
cider...
I noticed Bonnie drinking a bottle of Raspberry-flavoured hard cider (wossbrand? Old Woodchuck or something?)

May be Wyders hard dry cider. They make a raspberry that doesn't work for me, a pear that's pretty good, and the apple that Steve found originally. Trader Joe's sells it.

Glad that you had fun. Wish I could've heard you my own self. Will you do Fourth Street next June, Fred? -hope hope-

Can you get your Ritalin delivered or via mail-order? That might help when work [or life] mucks up your universe.

-hugs- -empathy-

- Chica