drspecial

Preparing for my first solo show in several months this October (Stone Spiral, 10-10-09), I'm reminded that my focus is strongly affected by my environment.  Certainly professionalism includes practice, along with musicianship. Doubtless, musicianship is a foundation upon which variations of quality rest. Chances are high if you don't have it together, it will suck. At least for most mortals, despite the mythology.

But performance can still mess with you no matter how prepared you think you are.  All that effortlessness that comes from nowhere can be thrown to the ground with one unexpected click from the jukebox at the bar, or that long lost friend in the audience, shown up out of the blue.

But really, it's the people. Or, if you're rehearsing, the lack of people. Sure pros are just used to people, and that's part of the cool. But the moment's vibe is unavoidably crucial. If there's some jerk-face smirking from the left, the most seasoned professional will struggle to do his job: express the most tender nuances of emotion. I'll be tender no matter what, ding dang it!

(Note: My Spellcheck made me change "most tender" to "tenderest", then told me "tenderest" was not a word.)

Depending on one's constitution, fellow musicians' confidence or attitude matters even more. It never ceases to amaze me how better I play when my fellow players think I'm good. With those who don't like my music, (non-believers, or infidels really), I can usually bash out the notes correctly, but they probably won't shine. Thus providing positive feedback to their suck notion, the spiral begins. While I have spotted the phenomenon in my own history, I'm not so clever as to the cure. I can very determinedly bash out confidence, but then the joy will be AWOL; and spotted by either others or myself as doubting the whole point of music. The casual responder will suggest that you simply should only play with other kind folks, and I've done that. But the conundrum remains.

This reminds me: If I were more ambitious, would I be less of a nice guy? One may have some set universal answer, but I bet the truth is different for everyone.

What's lucky about such valleys of thought is that, at least on a late summer day in September,  a simple step outside into the breeze and sunshine can interrupt all that.

Ya dig?
To clarify, each name does not correlate to one figure, but rather all refer to all.
Just sayin'.

A public health message from Dr Special, MD.

All we do is somehow an act of faith. Complexity managed skillfully. By everyone! Walk down the street, forget your breathing. Breathe in the air, forget you're walking. Even when remembering, its actual happening is still, in some ways, an impossibility. What are the odds of life?

Drive down the street; all those strangers keep to their own side of the yellow line. Behold, scores of chariots, each with an endless bomb exploding within, mere yards away. A thousand near-misses an hour, per thousand cars. One corner, one town.

The world is a dangerous place. Presence is not just lucky, but fantastic. Hard to believe, we've made it this far! Meanwhile, our eternities are instants. So true as backwards, and here we are. Bravo, aardvark! You too!

Nature's effortlessness is astounding, and solid. Rocks are natural. But thinkers imagine. Danger, growth, and beauty spiral upwards.

Beyond sushi, any ten-cent sucker is a fall backwards into strangers' arms. The hands that feel most value the heal. There's more there than fear of pox, reaper, or menace. Firm ground. Simple as salt, a tasty sand. Hands everywhere have real blood, real steel, real books, vinaigrette. It all works, even does what you expect.

You're welcome.