the wright stuff

i played a fun gig this weekend with some of my friends from up the road.  we provided the entertainment portion for a high society event that included gourmet cuisine, old timey cars, an expensive auction and an open bar that featured a vintage martini recipe that dates back to 1910.   mason city was out in full force, celebrating the refurbishment ($18 million, yo) and grand re-opening the park inn hotel, the only remaining hotel worldwide designed by the famous american architect frank lloyd wright.

the place was spectacular.  lots of angles and lines, as you would expect.  impeccable woodwork.  mesmerizing stained glass.  some guy waltzing around, dressed as frank lloyd wright.  attractive and somewhat comfortable furniture (hey-it's tough to get both).  classy color schemes.  nifty statues.  an lcd tv screen, playing a rerun of some david blaine stunts, embedded in the mirror of the men's bathroom.

we played fun tunes, old tunes, tunes i don't usually play.  i got my start doing some vocal jazz stuff, and have always been a sucker for getting through chestnuts like a foggy day, but beautiful, don't get around much anymore.  one lady even requested laura, one of my favorites (dig bird with strings). i am obsessed with crafting and observing the design of my lines when i improvise, and was acutely aware of this while nestled inside of a building chock full of this stuff.

i was people watching on this gig too.  i remember reading something where ornette coleman (whose name was just autocorrected to ornate) talks about his thought process when he looks out in to the crowd, wondering "who's that girl...what's she drinking...who's that joker saddled up beside her...did she come here with him?"

i noticed that the invite for this ticketed event suggested "cocktail attire", which was interpreted in several different ways.  plenty of guys were wearing ho-hum navy or charcoal grey suits.  most women accessorized fancy black outfits. cleavage and open-back dresses were common, some unnecessary. a handful of people risked it with crafty patterns and vibrant colors.  the fumes of cologne and hair spray hung in the air. most were strutting in their sunday best.

i wonder why we, as a society, think that dressing up in stuffy and expensive clothes is an important statement of status.  what if we could all just "look nice" and call it at that?  why do orchestras need to wear tuxedos?  choir girls wear unflattering gowns?  why are we so concerned with dressing to impress?  it's a tough situation we have found ourselves in, that i understand.  how can we buck this trend?

people feel good about wearing clothes that they like.  i know that the smug smile i wear when gussied up in a suit and tie would spread all over my face if i could show up in some jeans & a t-shirt (which, ironically enough, is what i wear to school).  i would much rather be around folks in a high class social setting who are more interested in talking with each other than stumbling over their heels, reworking that slip, or sucking it in with a belt that's cinched too tight.  wear the funky clothes that have all kinds of back story.  wear that scarf you got as a gift from your friend's european travels. sport that jewelry your kids made.  rock the hat that hides your receding hairline.

beauty is in the eye of the beholder, musically and otherwise. except for that orange dress.  that woman has no business leaving the house with that thing on.

reunited and it feels so good

i have learned a great life lesson.  expecting the best out of people and situations often proves to be surprisingly beneficial and enjoyable.

i was never too thrilled with my high school years, neither during the throws of them or in moments of reflection.  life is tough on the artsy fartsy, especially when you're slugging it out in small town u.s.a.  i had friends but never considered myself popular, had a couple of relationships but never considered myself attractive, had some success but never considered myself successful.  i suppose you can chalk some of that up to being a teenager.  i liked plenty of my classmates, could take-or-leave a fair amount of them, and utterly despised a handful.

with that as my foundation, i was never motivated to stay in touch with anyone from my first 17 years.  facebook has fixed some of that, cloaked as a mild-mannered stalker who has limited access to its victim's discretion.  my folks still live in my hometown, and their proximity to the gossip wheel keeps me loosely up to speed every six months or so.  those two resources have more than satisfied my meager curiosity.

i had a class reunion this weekend.  i had never attended one before.  we missed sonja's because of an insurmountable scheduling obstacle (hello, des moines opera).  i wasn't sure i wanted to attend this gathering.  plenty of people told me to consider going.  recos for handling included wear black (the slimming color), make a beeline to the bar, create some wild tales of my life and share them liberally, and leave the car running so i could split at a moment's notice.

my wife was down for going.  my folks encouraged it.  a couple of high school pals emailed me and asked when i was coming to town.  i got my workouts in.  my botched haircut was growing back nicely.  the poison oak all over my arms was all dried up.  i had the weekend free.  i went for it.

i admit, i was SUPER nervous.  i am usually insecure about myself, but plenty of people in my corner had filled my ears with ego boosting observations.  i had a good workout before we drove down to my old stomping grounds.  i found a couple of flattering outfits, brushed the hell out of those teeth one last time, buzzed off that tacky ear hair, and headed over to the venue.  i reviewed my senior yearbook with sonja, refreshing my memory about who was actually in my class and getting a quick glimpse at what they looked like back in the day.  who was planning to show up at this thing anyway? what would i talk about with these people?  what do i have in common with them?  could i get past my disinterest, fear, and disgust?  do they have any idea what i have done with my life? do they even care?

you know... they did.  i bumped into several people that i hadn't seen in so long.  we shared memories, swapped stories about our kids, dug into each others' careers, watched other classmates together, and enjoyed deep belly laughs about days gone by.  yeah, the jocks were still the jocks.  the snooty girls were still kinda snooty, but actually much more real than i had figured.  many of our teenage bodies had undergone life's revisions - some for the better.  i caught up with buddies that i hadn't seen in ages and reconnected with classmates i had known since kindergarten.

quick synopsis:  one guy is a advocate for prisoners.  one gal has lost a sister to cancer.  some have been married for 15 years.  others are divorced.  many have stayed in iowa. others are trying desperately to move back.  one is unemployed. several are pharmacists and nurses.  a couple are full time moms.  some farm.  one gal teaches yoga.  another sells jewelry. one guy fixes windshields.  another manages a bank. some have lost their folks.  some are teachers, others self employed.  a bunch have kids.  one gal has gone back to school.  another runs a trucking company with her husband. one guy sells real estate.  some love traveling.  and a bunch are cyclone fans!

what do they all have in common?  we are all in the same boat, middle-aged citizens in society trying to make our way.  i had a wonderful time.  no posturing.  lots of down-to-earth conversations that slipped past the protective surface.  some people told me that they liked to see me smile, hear me laugh. they all loved sonja (who could resist that southern charm?). i was back in the comfort zone i never really knew i had.

i love talking about records, concerts, tunes, projects.  i dig playing alongside people, creating and inventing new ideas for our ears and heads.  i enjoy teaching, sharing concepts, guiding people through their personal paths in music and life. i will continue to put my kids and the wife at the center of my personal universe.  but every once in a while, i need to balance myself out.  i want to talk to friends about stuff that has nothing to do with my job or my passion.  hanging at a basketball gym or sitting at a soccer field or being cooped up with some p90x videos doesn't always cut it.

thank you to my creston classmates for giving me some perspective and a renewed faith in society.  you are wonderful people.  thanks for liking me.  i really needed that.