I've even been spending time with my Scandalli. That would be my 60+ years old Italian 120 bass piano accordion. The best gift my parents ever gave me. Here is a pic of me in my glory years, playing accompaniment for my church junior choir director Frannie K. She was also a professional vocalist, who occasionally entertained at garden parties at some of the ritzier homes in Bay City. Ergo the hack with the squeeze box.
Note the stylish outfit. It was my band uniform. No, not school band. The M&M Marching Accordion Band. But that is definitely a story that merits its own post someday.
Suffice it to say that I hadn't played this ancient treasure much since my teen years. I will also admit that for the last 50 years or so whenever I was back in the presence of my mother I was asked, "Have you played your accordion lately?" And until the last few weeks, I've almost always had to either fib (oh like that's gonna work with a mother) or fess up. Ah but now during our nightly video chats with Mom I sit grinning just waiting for the question. And it almost always comes.
Oddly, it took a national disaster for me to finally have that extra 30-45 minutes a day it takes to set up my instrument and music stand and fill the lab with live music. I'm a long way from concert hall level these days (believe or not I was there once) but I'm almost ready to serenade Mom over the wires. And in the future, who knows. Could be some jam sessions at Wiser Times.
As I was working out the chord structure for "Lady of Spain" the other day, it occurred to me that the rebirth of my music career hasn't been the only impact the social distancing phenomenon has had on me. Though my Bride and I feel fairly secure here in our well-appointed bunker, there have been changes. And that's where I'd like to go in this edition of NFTL.
Emerging from the Cocoon (7/17/12, Last Updated 7/24/16) - In my very first post I alerted the blogosphere that I had escaped from the work world and was heading into a new universe - retirement. I pledged to check in regularly and to avoid those most controversial of subjects - politics, religion and intra-state rivalries. I recently published my 100th post (this one is actually my 103rd). And I would say I have honored my commitments fairly well.
My 100th post occurred in my 92nd month of retirement. That's slightly more than a post per month. I admit that I seem to go in waves. I've had periods where I published several posts in the span of a couple of months. Other times it has been months between posts. I owe that to the vagaries of life. And fluctuating effort. I think that pattern is likely to continue.
Regarding sensitive topics, I'm proud that I have stuck to my pledge. Despite the current political climate, rife with opportunities for satire and more pointed criticism. I know that going anywhere near that area would bring out the crazies - from all sides - and I could lose my intended air of civility and humor. So, how 'bout them Wings?
Through my first 100 posts I have learned a couple of things about blogging other than to avoid dicey topics. One is that it takes effort. And time. And restraint. One is lucky if others are interested in anything one has to say. So I try to keep it brief (well, at least "Chuck-brief") and suggestive rather than definitive. I write about my own angle of perception, and paint it as such.
Another thing I've learned is to only write when it's fun. In my case that usually means that I've seen or thought about something with a grain of humor that others might enjoy. If writing begins to feel like work, leave it for awhile. It'll come back on its own when you're ready.
My only regret so far is that I haven't spent enough time on family history. The primary purpose of this blog has always been to provide my kids with some insight about who their dad is and how he thinks. I think that part is coming along fine.
The secondary goal was to document our family history in pictures. That has been slow in the offing. But owing to our extended home stays due to the virus lock down, I am now hip deep in a couple of photo digitizing projects. They should provide plenty of source material for the "Memory Lane" component of this blog. Keep an eye out for that (if you have an interest in what my family has been doing for the last 40 years).
Chores (7/19/12, Last Updated 10/23/18) - One of the first changes Nancy and I encountered with the governor's stay-at-home order was the loss of our cleaning service. We have had them for a couple of years now, and we love the arrangement. For a few dollars every other week Nancy and I have each reclaimed an hour or two a day that had been dedicated to house cleaning. More time to spend on the important things in life without descending into sloth.
Now, however, sloth is a real threat (at least in the areas I frequent within our pandemic bubble). So last week, after failing to receive a response from the governor to my emails asking that she reclassify professional home cleaning as an essential service, I accepted my fate. I unearthed my old rags and cleaning fluids, cracked a roll of paper towels, and resumed my duties as chief duster. It was grim.
In the old days I would trudge through the job in three to four hours, once every other week. My pace is more tempered these days. I take longer to set up (trying to remember where I store my tools), longer to perform the work (creaky joints and a poor attitude), and longer to wrap up (trying to remember where to store my tools). The only upside is that with my one good eye (still no post-vitrectomy new glasses) I see less dust. So in the words of Carl Spackler (the groundskeeper in Caddyshack), "I got that goin' for me."
The net result of all these factors is that I cover less ground during each session than I used to. A lot less. Like one room a day. So in one way I am replicating the work of the cleaning service - everything in the house gets dusted once every two weeks. What?
Music Night (8/6/12, Last Updated 10/23/18) - If you've visited this blog before you know all about the music group I and a bunch of my closest friends have been running for the last 30 years. We get together four or five times a year to share music and catch up with each other. The hook is that we share music around a theme and end up with a collection of the music played as a souvenir of the evening. The music is lotsa fun, but the real purpose of the gatherings is to enjoy those long-standing friendships.
Well, as you may have guessed, we can't do that anymore. At least not until the miracle happens and we all feel safe in large groups again. So like many activities these days we're trying to adapt. A few of us who sort of keep the wheels greased on this party wagon have cobbled together a virtual Music Night. That would be a fancy term for a ten to twelve venue video chat. The plan is to facilitate the social side of the group while preserving what we can of the music component.
In my humble opinion the group has survived all these years not only because of the interesting nature of the members, but also because we have striven to impose the minimum level of structure on the event. Most people abhor rules in a social setting. But if you've ever spent time on a multiple-site video chat, you know that some structure is necessary just so everyone doesn't try to talk at once and so everyone does get some air time.
It's uncertain how successful our virtual Music Night experiment will go, but we're launching in a couple of weeks. I hope it works, as it may be our only option for awhile. And I miss those people. Of course, we've video chatted with a few of them directly in virtual happy hours or smaller group discussions, as much of the country is doing these days. But the vibe generated by a larger group of friends, especially old friends, is different. And I really miss that.
Up North (8/15/12, Last Updated 5/15/14) - As I have described in recent posts, a lot has happened the last couple of years at Wiser Times. We have our little piece of "Up North" mostly spiffed up, restocked and ready for a summer of company. But thanks to America getting beat to a pulp by a more organized enemy (tiny and hard to see as it is), that's unlikely to happen. Rather, the cottage has become a very comfortable and appealing place to hunker down away from the madness. And for awhile, it was our hideout as fugitives.
Remember when the governor clarified her stay-at-home order to mean that travel between a primary residence and a vacation home was also prohibited? When she made that announcement Nancy and I were just cruising into downtown Oscoda on our way to the cottage for a long weekend. So what should we do? The reasons the governor gave for her decision were that upstate authorities were concerned about down-staters bringing the curse with them and about the comparatively thin medical facilities in the northern counties being overwhelmed. Okay. We got it. We weren't welcome.
After a moment of panic, we decided to slowly lurk up the remaining six or seven miles of US23 - you know, like a local - and hole up in the cottage. The garage was full of wintering deck and lawn furniture at that point so we couldn't hide the car in it. We thought about covering the car up with fallen oak leaves and pine tree trimmings, but didn't quite have enough to do the job. Besides, by morning it would have become a chipmunk condo complex. So we risked leaving it in plain sight.
Once inside we kept the blinds down and the lights low. We had brought all the food with us that we would need, so we just might get away with not seeing anyone or being spotted by a local smokey prowling the area for cottage illegals. It was tense. After a few nights we felt it might be safe to work our way back to Grosse Pointe if we didn't stop anywhere and took the back roads. So we packed up and nonchalantly pulled out of our drive and onto southbound US23.
The plan was working fine until I got to the junction of M-13 and I-75, just north of Bay City. I was supposed to take a left, slip down the west side of town and out onto the two-lane highways that meander southeast across mid-Michigan. It's a pretty and lightly populated part of the state. We thought it was our best chance to avoid doing time on a vacation-home rap.
But when I saw that inviting red, white and blue I-75 sign I lost it. Instead of making the left I stepped on the gas, merged onto the freeway and made a run for it. I locked the cruise control in at 75 to make sure we would be the slowest moving thing if we encountered a sneaky patrol car poised for pursuit. We came up with a cover story if we were stopped. We'd say we were on our way to CVS on Mack Avenue for our meds and got lost. That we'd been on the road for hours and could they give us something to eat.
Well, we got lucky. Turns out nobody really cared who or where we were or how fast we were going. We made it home safely and avoided any gubernatorial entanglements. A couple of weeks later, the vacation home travel restriction was lifted and we were back in business. So we're looking forward to seeing and chatting with our close friends in the coming months from the cottage, via Zoom or Google Hangouts. It will be a different summer.
The Art of the Dawdle (11/7/12, First Update) - I really can't close this post without at least a passing reference to dawdling. As I noted in the original post, the Free On-line Dictionary defines dawdling as "to spend time idly, to move lackadaisically, or to take more time than necessary". You betcha. Talk about a concept whose time has come. What better skill to have honed over the years, in anticipation of being told to stay home for an extended period.
It is true that many "lock-ins" are having a tough time. Trying to work from home, care for little ones who otherwise would be in daycare or school, all the while sweating out each required contact with the outside world. Stress from all angles. Enter the dawdle. It's not just for old retirees with time on their hands. It's for everyone.
In my original post I talk about the challenges of dawdling, and the benefits. While the challenges may be heightened for those feeling compressed by additional responsibilities and limited options, all the more important for them to try and carve out some time for themselves. If you are bearing a heavy load, it's because important others are depending on you. And you need to stay in fighting form.
Time spent in your private dawdling "space", however short or not-so-private, will help keep your batteries charged. I understand that not everyone has a well-equipped hobby lab to sneak off to. But a set of earbuds, a quiet window to stare out of and a user-friendly beverage can take you about anywhere you want to go. Maybe just back to a time when your vital signs were normal.
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I think that'll do it for this version of "Notes from the Lab". Keep safe, and stare out the window as often as you can.
Grosse Pointe Charles
Nicely done! With all the recent improvements at Wiser Times, I feared that you might have lost your dawdling touch. But I see now that this was a ridiculous idea. Your dusting methodology alone shows that you still got it. Stay safe.
ReplyDeleteOne more thing: Who is this "Grosse Pointe Chatles" that you speak of?
ReplyDeleteGrosse Pointe Chatles. That would be Grosse Pointe Charles keyboarding with one good eye.
ReplyDelete