getting old blows, kind of

i guess this is how it's supposed to go, right? i keep on living, meaning i keep on getting older, meaning that everyone who was born after me continues to be younger and everyone older than me stays ahead. life is like a traffic jam that doesn't allow any stressful jockeying-for-position. the mortality of it all stuns me from time to time, and has hit me with both barrels recently.

a couple of weeks ago here at isu, we hosted the mike lee group new tricks. they were good. straight ahead-ish stuff with two horns, bass, drums. original tunes. lots of the familiar vocabulary being tossed around. a feigned genuine interest in education oozed from the band, with the exception of the legit ted chubb. this performance (and late night hang @ jim's) reminded me of my undergrad days at uiowa. mike lee came through and did a clinic and solo spot with our band. i remember taking a car ride with him to a gig, and was anxious to hear him tell me all of the secrets to great jazz saxophone playing. i expected to get an earful about trane or bird or sonny, but instead we listened to ray charles and betty carter. mike also talked with me about how he worked on improvising. no, he didn't shove patterns, chord/scale relationships, and quotes in all 12 keys blarble down my throat. he instead spoke of shutting up the negative voice that booms inside your head when you solo, offering a critical play-by-play of everything you do. that approach resonated within me (no pun intended) and became a staple of my teaching.

i also had the opportunity to be a guest soloist/lecturer at the university of wisconsin-whitewater after Easter weekend. i coached my tunes to a combo, worked with them for a bit, and guested on their spring concert. i taught a jazz ped class, held an interactive forum about principles of improvising strategies, talked shop with saxophonists, and pressed the flesh with fellow colleagues. i was fortunate to have the opportunity to solo with their top jazz band in a very fun evening concert, whose program featured the music of iowans. we closed the concert with rev. jack, a wonderful (and popular) chart by the legendary bob washut. i've always wanted to play that tune since i wore out the uni @ montreux vinyl copy i got when i was in high school. don jacques tore up the original solo (and i got to play in a pick-up band with my teen idol back in march!) and i got a crack at it on the uww gig. all of this was put together by my teacher and mentor matt sintchak. that guy has pulled me through SO much self-inflicted shit, and i owe him so much.

and now...this week one of my wonderful undergrads did a concert poster for me on photoshop (you may have seen his handywork on facebook - the poster with the pic of me wearing a rey mysterio mask). i promised him a couple of recordings as payment for his services, and hooked him up with chris potter concentric circles (got turned on to this by john 'joop' rhodes in iowa city) and django bates quiet nights (got turned to to him by my buddy matt bernemann back in undergrad). i also just got a note from my friend tim bulkley (old swcc vocal jazz survivor turned nyc drummer) that he split a show with my friend chris morrissey (bass player who made society gigs way fun back in mpls).

and did i mention that this ames kid harrison barnes, who i shot hoops with when he was in 6th grade and occasionally had him catsit for us, is the usa today's high school basketball player of the year? geesh... where does the time go?

for some fucking reason, i struggle with the brutal fact that we all get older. thinning hair, cracking joints, pop culture references my students don't get, slowing metabolism (oof), woulda coulda shoulda career choices, and grown-up bills. however, this is me forgetting to acknowledge all of the wonderful things in my life: two wonderful children, an incredible wife with whom i am incurring said bills, the charm of a bald spot, and a steady college teaching gig (...for the time being...)

man, mike lee was right after all. gotta shut up that negative critical voice and ac-cent-uate the positive. work work work, fight the right fight, and stick to my mantra of living each day as if it were my last.

somebody cue michael w. smith

i hate to admit that i am terrible at motivating myself to do something. i often get down in the dumps about my own artwork, perceived image, place in the world, and progress towards an often undefined goal. i really hate to admit this as a music educator, knowing that with these characteristics, i put myself in the running for the biggest hypocrite going in institutionalized music. i frequently have epiphanal moments of my art in the here-and-now, but allow myself to get caught up in the philosophy and reflection of it all and then miss the boat on meeting that brainstorm with some real action. conversely, i occasionally pour a bunch of sweat and tears into something that may not always the goal that i want to be making strides towards (hello academia.)

now, i know that there are only 24 hours in the day. i also remember an inspirational quote i once read that reminded me that i have the same 24 hours in the day as albert einstein, helen keller, and louis pasteur. i used to schedule my time out hour by hour, guilting myself into efforting creativity on a superhuman level for 14+ hours every day. i was depressed when i quickly noticed that i couldn't maintain that tempo. i remember hearing from then classmates and now colleagues about how much they practice and how many gigs they get, blah blah blah, and felt like shit about how i ran my own regimen (still do, from time to time). and then one day it hit me - i get inspired and motivated by musical happenings from my friends.

my friend tim just played a gig with guitar monster ben monder. my friend brian played with brian wilson at a club. some of my friends open for big time acts. others teach master classes in exotic or well respected locales. some put together tours of their own music or as part of projects that they are excited about doing. others win gigs in big time orchestras or land jobs in higher ed. my wife burns up the highway with concerts and teaching gigs, rubbing shoulders with famous flutists, recognized composers, master teachers and incredible chamber musicians.

i like to talk to my friends about their experiences. why did you choose this project? what do you like about it? how do you tackle the challenges you have set in front of you? friends are friends, which means that we can be candid with each other. we can give lengthy answers to questions, if you want that. we don't try to hide the secrets to our success. we are actually excited about what we do and assume that, as friends, we each give a shit about the other one's joy or angst. we also are cool about revealing our hidden flaws, our insecurities, our gaps in our artistry. friends help friends understand artistic pursuits on a fundamental level because of the personal experiences attached to it. friends also know that their friends aren't necessarily interested in their "interview" answers to questions, because friends aren't asking questions in hopes of getting a clever one-liner that will help their article zing.

my friends are all into different stuff. hey - why do you like the meters? tell me about shirley horn. which aphex twin album should i start with? what did you learn from carol wincenc? did you read that david pink book yet? what was it like meeting boulez? friends share records, swap books, go to shows together, lament over philosophies of arts education, discuss cinematography, debate which is the better sitcom. i love talking about topics that feed directly into the passionate pursuits of my friends, the same way i love talking about kenny wheeler or meredith monk or dancer in the dark or emerson or chelsea lately. i don't assume that my friends are going to equally dig what i do, based upon the fact that i'm not instantly in love with everything they suggest. that's not the point for me. what trips your trigger? i'll show you mine if you show me yours, without passing judgement. my friends are cool with me being slow to embrace wayne shorter, just as i am about them not yet viewing the epic movie hot rod. neither is thinking less of the other (...right?)

my friends are my source, the reliable network of information and inspiration that keeps my life chugging forward. ...this reminds me of the mf doom track "deep fried frenz". you should totally check it out...