Digital Upright Project--Ergonomic Mods

A while back, I gutted an old upright piano to make a home for my small music/recording studio. While charming, it fell short in ergonomics. The piano keyboard and computer were too high to sit at and use comfortably for very long, and the studio monitors ended up being too low for optimum sound. So, while I had everything out of the old piano during a remodel of my studio, I moved everything down about 6 inches. Sounds simple, but it took some thought and work.

Before...

...and after. Oh, if only I could keep it that tidy all the time! 

First, I took it back apart, and cut out a slab of the keyboard shelf. That left a hole for the digital piano to sit in. I added some brackets I fabricated from galvanized angle metal for my digital to sit on, and put some craft foam on the surface to keep the digital from sliding. The slab became an end table. 

Detail of the brackets. 

Lowering the keyboard meant that the "desk" part was now too high. I decided where I wanted it (just over the top of the digital piano), added a cleat all the way around the inside of the piano shell at that height, and moved the shelf down.

But, where should the speakers go? I added some corner shelves at the old "desk" height. These were made from some trim pieces I removed while remodeling last year.

Lowering the KB also meant that the bottom flap couldn't open all the way. I took off the awesome custom brackets that I made from maple and routed a groove directly in the side of the flap. I then lowered the pins for the groove to ride on and screwed them into the side of the shell. I liked the maple brackets better since they rode the pins more smoothly. Oh well!

Power and cord clutter were two other issues I wanted to address. I added a power strip off to one side, under the right hand speaker shelf. That took care of a lot of the cord clutter I was fighting before. Moving the keyboard down also routed the necessary signal cords under the desk, out of the way. Win, win!

Detail of one corner shelf and power cord management. 

There were a couple other small things. First, I opened up the top (there's a hinge!). That may not seem like a huge deal, but it lets in a lot more light and feels more open. Second, I decided to give up on the idea of ever putting the top cover back on. I removed most of the provisions for doing so, which also freed up some space and paved the way for a couple other little projects (stay tuned...).

Back in action! All in all, it took about 5 hours worth of work, but that was after months of planning and thought. Best of all, it allows comfortable use of one of my most comfortable seats, a drum throne I use for gigging.

Thanks for reading!

What to do with a big slab of wood/old piano parts? The 3 Hour Endtable!

I just made some mods to my digital grand project, namely lowering the keyboard and desk to make the set up much more ergonomic (more on that later). I had to cut out the existing keyboard shelf. In so doing, I ended up with a large chunk of oak that used to be the shelf for the keyboard. After moving it around the garage for a few days (as I was working on some other projects at the same time), I was inspired by the book Home-Made Modern by Ben Uyeda. He had combined angle iron and 2x10s to make an attractive, industrial-looking bookshelf.

I happened to have a chunk from the old piano, as well as some angle iron cut-offs from an old metal shelf. I cut the oak in half, evened up the legs and cleaned them up with a bit of steel wool and my bench grinder, made grooves in the front edge of the shelf to hide the legs, put it together, made it mostly square, and cut a back to keep it from racking.

I used a circular saw, bench grinder, drill driver, a few measuring tools, and some elbow grease and came out with a fairly attractive, extremely handy end table. It was built entirely for free--I didn't purchase anything for this project.

Thanks for reading!

What to do with old piano parts (part 2)? Make a quick shelf!

I had the key cover left over from the old digital upright project, and thought it would make a cool shelf.

I screwed through the back to hold it all together, routed grooves and mounted keyhole hardware to the back, and hung it on the wall. I think it's cool that the 1902-era piano hinge is visible, as is the tuning record that was on the inside of the key cover.

The clock, incidentally, was another repurpose/recovery project. I found this old Hammond electric clock at a second hand store for next to nothing, but the movement was shot. I thought about rebuilding the movement, but it turned out to be too much hassle, so I just replaced the movement with a modern quartz one and called it good.

And the cards are from friends, my kids, and students. the banana one is a birthday card that says "one day only matters if you're a banana."

Thanks for reading!

What to Do With an Old Mountain Bike?--Single Speed Cruiser on the Cheap

I cut my mountain biking teeth, so to speak, on this great Giant mountain bike that I got new in 1994. I rode it hard, and replaced most components as I wore stuff out or upgraded. It has survived amazing crashes, trips to the desert, life in Idaho, Colorado, and New Mexico, and even a car wreck in Wyoming.

It served briefly as a commuter--I replaced the suspension fork with a rigid one, put on less knobby tires, and changed the front crankset (from a 44/32/22 ("mountain") triple to a 50/34 ("compact road") double) to give me some downhill speed and control. While it got me where I needed to go, it was just not as efficient as a road bike, especially since my commute is mostly on highway and has a pretty big hill (up on the way to work, down on the way home!). When I found a good deal for a road bike on Craigslist, my Giant Franken-muter was relieved of commuter duty.

For a variety of reasons--mostly sentimental--I didn't want to get rid of the Giant bike, and saw an opportunity to try out a single speed. Single speed bikes are quite the rage right now, and proponents tout greater efficiency of a simpler drivetrain as a primary impetus. Not sure I buy the "efficiency" argument, but I'm all for simplicity. I liked the clean look and low maintenance of a single gear drivetrain for a "ride around town" bike that I didn't have to worry about too much. Here are a few pics and descriptions of the finished product.

Here's my cruiser outside the garage, ready for a B-doubleE-doubleR-UN (beer run...).  

Because a geared bike has vertical drop-outs, there is no way to adjust chain tension. To take up the slack and keep the chain on the drivetrain, some sort of spring-loaded device is necessary. After talking with the folks at Community Cycle, I went with this no cost derailleur set-up. I cut off the cage (hangy-down bit), ran the chain through, and saved $40 (the cost of an actual chain tensioner). I can still make fine adjustments to the chain line since I ran a bit of cable through the guides.

To "power" the thing, I used an old crankset I bought cheap ($26) from the Sports Recycler in Boulder, CO. I just didn't see paying $75+ for a new one for an experiment. I took it apart and put on a like-new 44 tooth chainring I had lying around. Of course, I took off all the unnecessary parts like shifters, shift cables, and the front derailleur.

Call it "ghetto," call it "redneck," but I improvised a lot in the back end of the drivetrain. The rear cog is out of a disassembled cassette, which isn't all that unusual in the single speed world. I sort of guessed on the size, but it works for where I currently ride it, and could easily swap it out if my situation changes. The spacers that hold the cog in place and keep the chainline straight are pieces of 1 1/4" PVC pipe, which slide perfectly over the spindle. 

I added the rigid fork (Sun-Race, $60) and semi-slick tires (~$30 each) when this bike became a commuter. Someday, I'll probably put on fatter slicks for a cushier ride, but for now these Michelin Country Rock tires roll really nicely around the streets.

I ordered both the handlebars (Dimension, $20) and grips (Ritchey, $20) from Tree Fort Bikes (treefortbikes.com). I wanted the grips to match the cushy faux-leather saddle, so at least something on the bike matched!

The "luxury" item: I bought this cushy saddle ($35) from the Broken Spoke in Santa Fe. It's springy & soft. I've had to lower the seat a lot to make this work as it's a lot thicker than the racing saddle I took off, but yeah, it's super comfy.

All told, I spent about $150 on this project, but saved probably $200 by employing used or old parts. In its current incarnation, it works great for cruising around town, though a rack would be mighty handy for those "grocery" runs. Looking back through the pictures, though, I am amused by the fact that there are only 3 original parts left on the bike--the headset, the seatpost, and the seatpost clamp. I have replaced everything else!

Thanks for reading!

Reusable Part 2: Find Alternatives to Disposable Plastic Bags!

Years ago, my wife (then girlfriend) introduced me to the idea of a reusable cloth bag for grocery shopping. This was a novel concept for me. I grew up in an era of paper bags that gradually gave way to plastic bags, and so did my wife, though she was raised by Boulder hippies who lived through the energy scares of the 1970s and therefore strove to conserve raw materials and fuels. The idea makes great sense for every kind of shopping from groceries to hardware. The grocery store gives a very small credit for reusing a bag (either cloth or plastic) and that's one less plastic bag I have to deal with after I get home.

But oh, how plastic bags rule! They are so simple, so inexpensive, and kind of reusable. Many of us happen to use the cheap polyethylene grocery store bags to line trash cans (in our county, unfortunately, trash in the dumpster has to be in bags, partially due to an abundance of food waste and a lack of community composting). But they tear easily, and when they do, they become useless trash themselves. Best case scenario: the bag ends up "secure" in a landfill, where, in a few hundred years, anthropologists will dig it up and scratch their heads as they examine the contents. Often, however, these bags end up blowing on the breeze, where they eventually do this:

or this

and may become part of this*:

But how else do you get your stuff home from the store? If you have more than a few small items, there's no way you could carry them all the way from the store to your car without a bag! And, once you get home with the car parked safely in the garage, taking the groceries in the house without bags is next to impossible!

If you need a bag, maybe try one of these:

sayyestocanvas.com is not supporting me in any way. Just sayin'. But, I like canvas bags. A cloth bag is extremely durable and can be repaired should a handle come undone or a hole appear.

 And, of course, buy less stuff. My grad school roommate rode a bicycle everywhere, and used his backpack to carry the groceries home. He didn't need a car for a grocery run because he didn't buy much at any one time. Nowadays, I have a similar approach, though I have a milk crate I can strap to the rack on my bike to keep the weight off my back. The bike works great for those "milk, eggs, and bread" kinds of trips.

One of my heros, the so-called "zero waste" lady, has modified a catchy mnemonic--refuse, reduce, reuse, recycle--that applies here.

- Refuse: do you really need a bag for a pack of gum (do you have pockets or a handbag?) and a bottle of soda (you should have brought your reusable cup, anyway!)? Do you really need to put your apples or oranges into a plastic bag at the produce stand, which will then be placed into another bag at checkout**? Given the choice, put loose apples (or oranges, pears, carrots, peppers, etc.) straight in your cart rather than putting them in a plastic bag. You're going to wash them when you get home anyway, right?

- Reduce: again, don't double-bag your produce. If you really want to gather up produce (beans & peas might fall into this category), then take a smaller mesh bag with you to the store and have the cashier weigh it before you shop. This concept, incidentally, can apply to any bulk item from dry, shelled beans to soy sauce to honey to shampoo. Take your own container (could also be a jar, can, or foil bag) and refill it rather than getting another one.

- Reuse: take your plastic bags back to the store and reuse them. Better yet, make or acquire a more durable option like this

These bags are woven from recycled polyethylene or polyester rather than a natural fiber like cotton or hemp. But, they are reusable and created from a waste stream, and that's at least a step in the right direction.

which you can stuff completely full without worrying about a blow-out on the way to the car. The grocery sackers at the grocery store are often surprised at how much stuff these bags will hold because they are used to limiting the number of items that go into plastic bags. In addition to bags, you can also reuse old containers and jars for bulk items ranging from nuts to shampoo. 

- Recycle: when those polyethylene bags are torn up and destroyed, bundle them up and take them to a recycling center (often, your local grocery store!), don't just toss them in the trash. They could, quite possibly, make their way into something else, like the bags shown above or a fleece sweater or new plastic bags. We don't want them floating on the breeze or in the ocean.

One more important point about plastics--they are made from petrochemical feed stocks (or sometimes from corn, which is only better in the sense that the plastics are biodegradable***). I'm certain that in the not-so-distant future, we will be faced with the choice of having plastic bags at the store or burning fuel in the car to get to the store. There is no better time than right now to address this. The further down the road we kick the can, so to speak, the worse the problem will be.

There are arguments for cheap plastic bags. They are inexpensive and easy to make, requiring far less energy to make than paper bags (and probably, the textile bags, but I haven't looked that up) and being largely subsidized by companies. They can be reused, like I stated above, for a variety of unpleasant tasks like picking up dog poo on the sidewalk to lining your trash can (though in both cases they end up in the trash). These arguments are as weak as the bags they are for. I'd like to see community calls for a large-scale compost for food waste, increased recycling of paper (only 20% of paper is actually recycled!). And, I know I'm going to get some criticism for saying this, but the best place for dog poo is probably out in the sun on the sidewalk where it can break down, rather than buried underground. Not that I'm going to start encouraging my dog to crap on the sidewalk any time soon.

I should note here that I'm not a political activist. While I see no real place for plastic bags in society (even if I believed that every shred I put in the recycle bin was treated as advertised), I'd rather have thoughtful people work to eliminate the plastic bag market through their choices than see laws passed banning the bags outright. So, if you agree with me, buy, find, or make some cloth bags for your next trips to the store. Or take a backpack. I think you'll find (like I did) that the bags hold more, stand up to more abuse, and are generally more useful than the ubiquitous cheap plastic our society seems to worship. 

Next up: disposable plastic bottles!

--------------------------

*I found this image by searching for "great pacific garbage patch" on Google. There are a few full-length movies and more than a few YouTube videos on the topic. Even if you, like me, live in a land-locked state, your plastic can still end up in the ocean via the breeze or by our waterways. Some estimates I've read put the itty-bitty-plastic-bits to plankton ratio in the ocean at 6:1, which is pretty dire for those critters that depend on plankton. I encourage you to take some time to search for images, view and think about the effects on marine life, ponder how those effects impact human life, and make your choices accordingly. For a tear-jerker, check this video out: http://www.midwayfilm.com/. And then consider your choices.

**If I had my "druthers," the plastic bags at the produce stand would be long gone.

**The degradation of corn-based plastics may not happen as rapidly or readily as previously thought (hoped?). Furthermore, producing consumer products from corn raises a host of ethical issues. Growing commodity corn does little to directly feed people, as most corn is used to make chemicals, sweeteners, and animal feed (often for animals that aren't set up to digest it, like cows). Land that could be used to grow useful food (like grain or vegetables) is used to produce corn. It's all about money, folks. Don't believe corporate claims of altruism and service. See Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma for a much more complete rendition of this argument (with actual references and citations).

Reusable Part 1: Bring Your Own Cup!

"There is no "away."-----Scott Anderson (my dad, on discarding trash)

I'll put my challenge up front: get a reusable travel cup with a lid, preferably steel. Carry it with you whenever you leave the house. Set yourself an ultimatum: if you don't have your reusable cup, you can't buy a to-go beverage from a coffee shop, gas station, or restaurant. That includes coffee, tea, hot chocolate, soda, or juice. Simple. It's a solid first step on the path of minimum waste.

On to the logic:

A while back, I put up a blog post about the need to curtail the use of disposable containers, such as flimsy plastic water bottles and paper or styrofoam coffee cups. It didn't exactly change the world, but my readership is still, um, growing. The containers that bug me the most are the ubiquitous white paper coffee cups. They are almost as annoying to me as those blue plastic bags with the smiley faces from 10 or so years ago that you'd see stuck on fences and in trees. I am not trying to vilify the coffee shops (or Wal Mart), but I am trying to get through to those folks who continue to accept single-use paper cups rather than bringing their own reusable, refillable mug. It's a simple issue to solve.

I plan to try to convince you that this issue is a problem from a couple different angles, environmental and financial.

Environmentally speaking, there are several steps in the life cycle of any item, and a paper cup is no exception. The cup, lid, and the cardboard "hand saver" sleeve must be manufactured from paper or plastic, and sent to your favorite coffee shop via truck, train, or ship. After you place your order with the barista, the cup--for the briefest part of its life--is put into use. You enjoy a piping hot cup of joe, hopefully taking the time to note all the wonderful textures and flavors in commercially roasted coffee (usually, a burnt flavor), and experience (or not) the slight paper, wax, and plastic undertone. After you empty your cup, it finds its way into the trash. Someone empties the trash into the dumpster, and a big, diesel-burning truck comes and picks up the dumpster and hauls it to a transfer station. The contents of the big truck are dumped in an even bigger trailer and hauled to a large, centralized landfill. Every weekday, all day, these trucks make the rounds around town, so keep that in mind when you throw stuff away. The upside to a paper cup is that it could possibly break down into building blocks for life, but only if it's exposed to soil & microbes. Burying things in a landfill, unfortunately, entombs them in a sterile cocoon that does NOT promote degradation, not that that makes any difference for the plastics in your cup--they will never break down regardless of their exposure to the elements.

What does that mean for you? Well, for each cup of coffee you buy and consume in a disposable cup with a sleeve and lid, you generate 3-4 pieces of eventual trash. Lest you think that "I am only one person and can't possibly have much impact with my one paper cup," please consider this thought experiment. There are roughly 12,000 people in my town. If 10% of them get a cup of coffee in a disposable cup every day, that is 1,200 cups that end up in the dumpster each day. We happen to have at least 4 places in town where you can get a cup of coffee to go, so I don't think my guess is too high. A small (12 ounce capacity) cup weighs about 0.5 ounces.

1200 cups x 0.5 oz/cup x 1 lb/16 oz = 37.5 pounds of cups per day. According to Google, 1200 Cups works out to about 10 cubic feet of volume, but I'm guessing the volume decreases by 75% or so when the cup is crushed, giving 1200 paper cups a volume of say 2.5 cubic feet. For reference, my 100-pound chocolate lab (Rusty the dog) takes up roughly 3 cubic feet. So, my rough calculation for my small town's daily cup-to-landfill total is 37.5 pounds/2.5 cubic feet.

Every day. Multiply that by a work week (5 days; 187.5 lbs/12.5 ft^3). Or a work-month (20 days; 750 lbs/50 ft^3). Take it as far as you want, but my point is it gets to be a lot of trash, just in cups. To truly illustrate it, buy a cup of coffee each day in a paper cup, but instead of throwing the cups away, stack them in a conspicuous place, like on your nightstand or in the passenger seat of your car. See how long it takes for an unsightly pile to accumulate. If you can, extrapolate that to your town, and then your county, and then your state, and start thinking about where we are going to put all those cups when we run out of landfill space.

Maybe you don't care about the environment. I pity you, your progeny, and all living beings, but unfortunately, I won't be able to sway you from that angle. Let's try money, since most folks have a fairly strong grasp of, and attachment to, that medium. At $2.00 or so, a cup of regular ol' coffee at Starbucks seems fairly expensive. I can get it down to $0.57, though, if I use my own cup (most coffee shops offer a discount for a "personal cup" or a "refill"). Let's say for the sake of argument that that discount is $1.

My favorite reusable travel cup was* the bestickered stainless steel beauty pictured above. It cost the relatively hefty sum of $22, and cost the planet some more in extraction of raw materials (metals for the cup and oil for the handle, lid, and base) and emissions from manufacture. Luckily for me, it was also a gift.**

Let's set the cost of the cup at $20 because, for this argument, I'm primarily concerned with the money that leaves my pocket (and I like round numbers). If I save $1 each time I fill 'er up, my reusable cup will pay for itself in about 20 cups of coffee. If I buy a cup of coffee every work day (which I don't!), the cup pays for itself in 20 days or so of refills. But then, I can also fill it up when I leave home with whatever beverage strikes my fancy (and whatever I have the raw materials to make). I can also take it camping. So, the reusable cup has added value besides replacing a paper cup.

I've laid out a logical argument against paper cups from environmental and fiscal points of view. My arguments echo sentiments that have been expressed for 50 years or more, so, why are paper cups so ubiquitous? I saw two at a small staff meeting last week (2 out of 12 people (16%) had paper cups with lids and hand preservers in front of them!). It could be because they are a simple, easy, no commitment solution to the conundrum of consuming a beverage. Have we reached the point where we are too lazy to keep track of our own reusable cups? Or, maybe a disposable cup is a status symbol, a way to say, "I can afford coffee from shop X so I don't have to care about consumerism." If you value that image, then keep and reuse your paper cup. No one will know you didn't just buy it! And at $1, it's pretty darn cheap, though I doubt it'll last much past a week of solid use. 

The ultimate solution to this cup problem--from both perspectives--is to not buy that beverage in the first place. You don't have to worry about any of the environmental or financial costs outlined above. Brew your coffee at home. Even at the extreme price of $15/pound for the free trade organic stuff, you can brew coffee far more cheaply yourself (on average, a pound of coffee lasts my wife and I a month, and I guess-timate we drink 90 cups/month (3 cups/day) giving a per cup cost of 16 cents. To take the "less disposable stuff" tack one step further, take and refill your own jar or container instead of getting a new paper or foil bag each time you get coffee (beans or ground). Even if you go through a pound a month, that's still $0.50 per day ($15/30 days), far cheaper than commercially brewed caffeinated tar.

Next up on my list of disposable containers to avoid: plastic bags.

Thanks for reading!

For another (albeit similar) take on this topic, check out http://wunderbudder.blogspot.com/2013/08/saving-world-one-cup-at-time.html.

*Unfortunately, I left this cup on a plane during a recent business trip, so it has disappeared into the depths of Southwest Airlines' lost & found. Dang it!

**I was sort of curious what the mark up on this cup was, so I did a quick search and found this one (and a bunch of other cheap, fascinating stuff for sale) for about $3.50; though it's not identical, it's similar enough to tell me that a brand-name logo is fairly expensive. I'd have to dig much deeper (and perhaps quit my job and become a freelance journalist with multiple trips to China) to get to the emissions and human cost side of things, but I'm guessing the profit sharing where my cup came from doesn't include factory workers in China.

Mostly Recycled Project: Giant Work Table

I'm always walking the fine line between having a functional shop with a variety of materials and supplies on hand, and having progress-impeding clutter. This work table was an attempt to simultaneously address my piles o' supplies and our need for a large craft table in my wife's art studio, but to do so while buying as few supplies as possible.

The work surface was the basis of this project. For that part, I happened to have a large hollow core door. It was my garage workbench at our old house, and before that, my wife had it as her work table. Long before that, it was an actual door in my wife's childhood home. Anyway, she gave up her work table when we had kids and she had to vacate her studio to make room, but when we moved a few months ago--and she got a studio of her own again--she wanted it back. I had beaten it up pretty good in the garage, and had to resurface it. I chose Masonite (also called hardboard) and had to buy that new. 

The actual first thing I did was plan. I talked her into a trestle-style table base with a shelf on the bottom for storage. That combines good foot/leg room under the table with good strength and stability. Next (and, after I'd started, unfortunately), I decided I needed to practice making mortise and tenon joints, so I chose that as my joinery method (backed up by screws and bolts in certain places). Finally, I gathered up all wood I had around and planned the size and dimensions of the legs, bracing, and shelves around that.

I designed it so it could be broken down and moved easily in 6 pieces--4 legs, the trestle base, and the top.  I chose "lap" joints--where material is cut from each of the boards being joined--to attach the legs, and these were secured with 1/4" furniture bolts and T-nuts (unused from a previous project; 12 in all). With the lap joints, the weight of the table is borne on the wood structure rather than the bolts/hardware. This strategy minimizes hardware (and expense).

End view.

I covered the "door" with Masonite, a hard, smooth, durable work surface. The Masonite was glued down with Liquid Nails "Project" adhesive and held in place around the edges with 18-gauge nails (I have a pneumatic nailer which makes these kinds of projects a lot less tedious and a lot more fun). I had to buy the Masonite and the Liquid Nails new, but that was limited to a total cost of about $15.

Here is the finished product installed in my wife's studio.

Top/corner view, showing the hardboard covering on the top. I was pretty pleased with how it turned out.

Thanks for reading!

My Latest Piano Recital

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! This is likely my last post of 2014, and I'm looking forward to a little rest, relaxation, and reflection for the next couple of weeks. We have a few gigs in February, but they all depend on our local ski hill being open. The ski hill opening depends on getting more snow. We have about 6" on the hill right now. One of my band mates told me he'd read that by 2060--if this warming trend keeps up--our ski season will be about 6 weeks long in February and March and will be relegated to the high peaks in Colorado and Utah. Ugh.

--------------------

On December 7, my music students and I put on our 3rd piano recital. It was a great experience for everyone, in one way or another, and I think we all learned a lot. I recorded the event (let me know if you're interested in how, but computers make is SO EASY to get reasonable recordings) and I've been listening and reflecting on how well everyone did, and how we can do better.

Before I get to that, though, I'm amazed that my piano teaching "business" has grown the way it has. In 2010, I started this endeavor with 1 student who wanted to learn to read and play out of a fake book. She didn't know it at the time, but she really wanted to understand scales and chords. D.K.'s kids joined me in 2012, but one decided to take up the cello instead, so I was down to 2. I added a 3rd in 2012, then a 4th, and then 2 guitar students in 2013. This year, my enrollment swelled from 6 to 15, which prompted schedule rearrangement and much thought about priorities. I really enjoy teaching music, and I enjoy working with little kids much more than I thought I would. That said, I'm not quite ready to quit the day job, because it's pretty compelling to manipulate matter on a molecular level to create new compounds and materials (yes, that's what a chemist does) and it earns a good living. The more compelling thought, though, is that I can attract business, even though 1) I hardly advertise, 2) there are several good piano and guitar teachers in town, and 3) I don't have a music or teaching degree, something that the mainstream social construct tells us would be useful. Apparently folks are ready for a different approach. My mission statement is, unofficially, to bring up the next generation of jazzers and rockers, if they are so inclined. Or, as my band mate Jeff puts it, to train "functional" musicians. More on that in another post.

Back to the recital. Of my 15 students, 12 were able to play solos in this recital, giving an event that was about 25 minutes long (these were fairly short pieces). I did find it interesting that most of my students avoided the standard classical material that pianists have relied on for years, despite the fact that I did offer some simpler Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart compositions as choices. My own piano teacher gave me a great model, actually--while she insisted that I play from the standard classical repertoire, she also brought in other materials, such as ragtime (which I still enjoy). I recently found a composer, Bill Boyd, who wrote 4 of the 14 pieces that were played in this recital. There are several composers and arrangers who are writing jazz, blues, and ragtime music for kids, a development that I find very exciting as a teacher who is interested in teaching mainly jazz, blues, and ragtime.

I give each student several choices of pieces and let them pick what they want to perform at a recital. That way, they have "buy in" and are more motivated. Many had their pieces memorized weeks before the recital. I don't think I'll change that approach. I am rethinking my "no sheet music at the recital" policy. A couple students could have really used their music during their performance. I still want the music memorized because it looks more professional and polished, but stuff comes up--one kid was sick, then traveling with her folks, then busy with other activities, and as such, didn't have her piece memorized as well as she would have liked. Memorization strategies will be a significant part of lessons in 2015; May's recital will involve more challenging pieces (I'm debating between a couple 5-page ragtime pieces for my own study), as well as some duets, both 1-piano-4-hands and piano-guitar.

One aspect of this recital that stands out, though, is how nervous everyone was. I've been thinking hard about this for a couple weeks now, and dealing with stage fright will be part of our lessons leading up to the next recital in May. I plan to spend some time over the Christmas and New Year break looking for material for the next recital, but I also plan to do some reading on strategies for dealing with performance anxiety, starting with this article from The Bulletproof Musician blog. I play a lot, and I know how to channel stage fright into increased focus. It's taken a while to get to that point, though.

Thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays!

A New Musical Adventure: Accompanying a Soloist

Recently, I had the privilege of accompanying a nice young lady ("C.B."; I don't have permission to publish the full name) for her judged "Solo and Ensemble" performance. She was playing the flute, I was playing the piano. She had been working with a private local flute teacher, and I took about a month to learn the piano part of the piece as perfectly as I could play it. C.B. and I practiced a couple times so that we could get used to playing together, and, come Saturday Dec 12, she nailed it at her judged event! It was the best I'd heard her play the song, and she got a "1," which is the top score possible. Even though I'd only known her for a couple weeks, I was still really proud of her hard work and achievement.

I didn't ask for payment for this one, but it was still really cool to get a thank you note and a gift card.

During this process, however, I was reminded of earlier mis-adventures in accompanying soloists. The last time I tried my hand at this, I was in high school and the soloist was also a flutist. It didn't go nearly as well, although, if memory serves me correctly, I did play a killer rendition of Joplin's "The Strenuous Life" for my solo performance later that day. And I accompanied a couple of solo vocalists in high school as well for talent shows and such. I learned the most about work as an accompanist, however, during my 2-year stint as pianist for the Octave One Vocal Jazz Ensemble at the College of Idaho in the mid-90s. I reached the point where I could transpose jazz chord changes on the fly, though that's a skill you lose if you don't use it. And I don't use it. So I've lost it. A new challenge, perhaps?

Thanks for reading!

My First Elk Hunt

This spring, After a 20+ year hunting hiatus, I decided to put in for an elk. For those of you unfamiliar with the vernacular, "put in" means to apply for the lottery drawing (with a $70 fee...) to the New Mexico Dept. of Game & Fish for a permit to go into the woods with a high-powered rifle, kill a large animal, and return home with a bunch of meat. I "put in," and my name was drawn for an area close to home, for a 5-day window in November.

Since this was my first real participation in the New Mexico hunting community, I watched in fascination (and took some notes) as the camo came out and people started talking about scouting, stalking, hunting, "sighting in" rifles (yes, I did this, too; see my post on the target stand), and whether or not they were going to camp out during their hunt. I got to postpone these decisions and activities a bit as my hunt was right before Thanksgiving, and my music schedule had a bit of a lull in October & November. I still had to prepare, though, and here was my sort of general checklist.

Sighting in rifle: check. I still need to work on "squeezing" the trigger so I don't jerk (I've been working on this since I first started shooting at 12 years old!), but my dad's .270 shot straight and sure, even out to 250+ yards.

Scouting: check. My friend, Eric, and I spent a couple weekends in the woods looking for elk sign (droppings, tracks, bedding/sleeping areas) and found a few likely spots.

Supplies: check. I had almost everything I needed from my pursuits as a backcountry enthusiast, and a friend who moved to Alaska several years back had given me a nice heavy-duty canvas camoflage coat. I went ahead and negated the camo, though, with a bright orange vest over the top (so other people could see me and not shoot me if I was inadvertently in the line of fire). I did find it interesting, though, that most of the folks I ran into hunting were camoflaged head to toe. When I was a kid, only archery hunters, duck hunters, and the military were so attired. Anyway, the only things I bought for this endeavor were a 3 gallon water jug, food, and gas for the truck.

Partners: check. My friend Dan joined me for 2 days and Eric joined me for one. I skipped 2 days because I was exhausted. My lovely wife offered to go one day, but Dan stepped in at the last minute.

The experience: I decided not to camp as my hunt was close to home. However, despite having hunted as a kid, this was a relatively new experience for me. I had never hunted for elk, only deer, and I really had to consider how I would get a 500 pound animal out of the woods if I shot it. I brought along a cheap kiddie sled, made some game bags out of an old sheet, read a lot, and watched a few YouTube videos on harvesting the meat from a dead animal. But more to the point, I was in charge of my hunt. When I was a kid, Dad drove, read the maps, chose the spots, maintained the guns, and loaded the ammo. Now I get to do those things, except the ammo, because I don't have the equipment (yet). Not that I mind, really. My 4Runner did awesome on some pretty rugged roads, and I got to see some great country on foot and from the truck. And my efforts in learning navigation through ski patrol paid off as I wandered through the woods mostly un-lost.

Unfortunately, all that effort and preparation were fruitless with respect to the ultimate goal of harvesting an elk. In fact, I only saw 2 elk, and that was after dark in our nearby national park while driving home (and they were, consequently, illegal to shoot). My wife also saw two elk, right at the edge of town, silhouetted against the skyline above the gas station, but they were also off-limits. I did, however, see 12 deer, 6 coyotes, 2 bald eagles, 3 turkeys, an owl, several hawks, and countless squirrels, rabbits, crows, and woodpeckers. I got to see places I hadn't seen before at times of day (dawn and dusk) that few people bother to experience. And I alternately froze and baked--on Monday, it snowed. On Wednesday, I was way too hot.

But why bother? In addition to experiencing all the aforementioned natural wonders, there's an intentional philosophy around it. My family and I have made the conscientious choice to avoid food from factory farms and their overuse of antibiotics (among other things), and we came to the conclusion that the most basic, simplest way to know the source of your food is to grow/raise/harvest/kill it yourself. Hence, this process of hunting.

The process of hunting also encourages fully experiencing the outdoors. It requires planning, stealth, observation skills, memory, and diplomacy (dealing with other people as they, too, have unfilled elk tags!). Being able to carefully and competently operate a 4x4 helps, too. The senses are heightened, and I found myself noticing things I might not have if I'd been driving faster than 5 mph, mountain biking, or cross-country skiing. All in all, I had a great time wandering around outside. I plan to put in again next year.

Thanks for reading!

Recycled Project: Rifle Target Stand

For the first time in a very long time, I drew for an elk hunt. It's at the end of November, the weekend before Thanksgiving. The next few weekends will be spent in the hills, scouting and sighting in the rifle.

It occurred to me in this process that I needed something to hold the targets up. My dad had one that he made out of scraps, and I was thus inspired to do the same. This project is 100% recycled, except for some glue.

I had some old, well-used 2x6 lumber lying around, so I cut it down to make the uprights and back legs. I designed a groove that holds a board to which I could tape my targets and slide it in/out from the top. The top of the frame is composed of two thin pieces sandwiching a tongue on the uprights and bolted together. The bottom of the frame that holds the target is held in place with a mortise & tenon joint, as are the braces at the bottom of the stand. The back legs hang slightly lower than the front legs so that the target will be more or less vertical when it is standing up, which will be nice at 100 yards. The hinges were old cabinet hinges from our last house. Since the frame is made out of 1 1/2" thick material, it is fairly substantial, which will keep it from blowing over in a stiff breeze. A piece of parachute cord passes through some random holes in the cross braces to keep the stand from splaying out.

That's the official U.S. Army "50 ft small bore rifle target" in the frame. My dad had a box of probably 1000 of these targets, so I took 100 or so. I hope I can see those circles at 100 yards.

All in all, this was a quick and easy project. I plan to try it out in the near future.

Thanks for reading!

24 is Sometimes Not Enough, or Why I Try to Blog

By 24, I don't mean my age. In fact, I turn 39 very soon, and I wouldn't go back to 24 unless I could know what I know now (kind of like the old song...). No, I'm talking hours. I'm struggling to find the time to do everything on my list. I need to get the swamp cooler ready for its hibernation--first frost is imminent. The rental house chimney needs a screen (a bird flew down the other day). The truck fan is on the fritz, and both it and the car need oil changes. On top of that list are other commitments, such as the family, eating food and drinking water, exercise, my chemistry day job and my side occupation as piano teacher and musician, and the "honey do" list (I just finished my wife's big work table, which I'll be posting about later, but I also have some book shelves and a vanity to finish for my daughter). The yarn store sold out of fishing flies, so I'm falling asleep at the tying vise most nights trying to fill orders. I don't know if I want more that 24 hours in a day, though, because I'd fill those up, too. There's always a new idea brewing, like the open mic night I'd like to start and the acoustic jam session and the piano group and the "manly" Christmas stockings I'd like to sell this year.

7 boxes down, 3 more to go. Then on to the grasshopper mimics, and the "flies I like best" mix. Like I said, there's always a new idea brewing.

So, given all that, the first thing to slip off my priority list was this blog. I like to keep it up, if for no other reason than it gives me a good chronicle of my thoughts and accomplishments. At any given time, I probably have about 4 blog posts that I'm working on (right now that number is up to 7). Some require research. Some require pictures. But there's always a bottleneck. I have great respect (and a bit of jealousy) for the folks who can work full-time and maintain their weekly (or more often!) blog posts. Shannon Hayes (weekly) and Ben Hewitt (more often) come to mind, as they are both farmers/radical homemakers. But they make a regular effort. Good writers have all said that honing the craft requires daily practice. That's true of every other craft or art or practice, too, I suppose. Music definitely falls into that category!

I've dabbled in writing off and on throughout my adult life, but the blog has led to my most regular and prolific output. The biggest upside to writing in this format is that the data is stored online, somewhere else, and I don't have to pack my laptop (or even a thumb drive) around with me to be productive. I just need a computer I can log into. Another benefit is that I can write about whatever I want to write about and post it here. That would probably change as soon as I sought to monetize the blog and expand my audience, but for now, I am content to have it be free and easy for all of us. I like the purely democratic nature of the internet, and, since I do other things to make my living, I want to keep my blog open-ended. Hopefully, if you are reading this, you think that I have had something interesting or even useful to say. I have a lot of interests, and I'm hoping that something on my blog appeals to someone else, too (you?). That someone else can forward it on to another person, and we can all share some piece of life together. I marvel at our connectedness.

Thanks for reading!

Recycled Project: Shelf with Hooks

With the kids both in school, and homework happening at the kitchen counter, we needed someplace nearby for backpacks and homework to call home-base. I immediately thought of the standard sort of Junior High Woodshop shelf plan, of which I've probably built 5-10 over the years in various sizes and shapes. Mrs. Big A, however, remembered buying some old table legs/feet at an estate sale 10 or so years ago and thought we should finally enlist them into service. The plan was to use the legs as shelf supports, attach a back with hooks to the supports, and attach a shelf across the top. We set a few goals for this one, though, which were: 1) use only materials on hand (not buy anything new), and 2) obtain a rustic look, 3) create something sturdy, useful, and attractive.

The table legs presented the first challenge in that there were no flat edges or square corners. I needed to create a right angle somewhere on the table legs so it would hang straight and flat against the wall, but I wanted to maintain the character of the legs. Basically, it was a matter of creating a straight line along one edge (the "top" of the shelf) then cutting a right angle to that line (for the "back"). I used the bandsaw for this task, a tool that I find myself turning to time and time again. Used carefully, it can do amazing things.

In this photo, the top leg is cut/trimmed, stained, and finished. The bottom one is rough, though you can see my layout lines if you look closely.

Next, I created the back. I have a small (and thankfully, dwindling) pile of scraps and boards I've acquired through the years, and enlisted this old solid oak board. After scraping off the old finish, I had this:

The back. I can't believe this was covered with paint. I also can't believe I got all the paint off.

The top shelf was a bit trickier because I didn't have any "rustic" wood that was wide enough to work as a shelf, or enough narrower pieces to glue together into a shelf. I did, however, have some cherry veneered MDF left over (my wife found a couple pieces at a yard sale years ago, and I used some on the Digital Upright project), so I cut it to the size I wanted and edged it with solid oak. I softened the corners and took a pass with the router to round the edges. I stained it all with Minwax Red Oak stain, which made the grain in the cherry wood pop out, but rendered the oak edging too red. I was left with a shelf that looked beautiful and brand new, and supports and back that did not. I had to make everything match. I stained the uprights with the Red Oak, as you could see in the pictures above, and treated the shelf part with a Golden Oak stain to add more of a brown tint. Not perfect, but close.

The top shelf.

When the stain was dry and the dust was wiped away, I measured and drilled the back to attach it to the wall, and treated everything with 3 coats of Minwax Rub-on Polyurethane (satin finish). I attached the hooks and put it all together with nails and screws.

Here is the shelf in use.

Homework center complete! Eventually that baby blue wall color will have to change...

It took around 4 hours total time to build this one, and a lot of time was saved because I didn't have to scroll cut or sand the uprights. It's hard to estimate the cost, because some purchases go back 10 years or so, but I'm guessing it's around $20. The hooks themselves have been recycled multiple times at various locations. Regardless of thrift, the kids now have a place for their backpacks and homework that is not on the floor just inside the front door!

Thanks for reading!

Your Corner of the World Is Paradise, Too!

Gig updates:
- September 13 w/D.K. & the Affordables, at Ashley Pond in Los Alamos, 2:30 pm
- September 13 w/D.K. & the Affordables, at the Cowgirl Restaurant in Santa Fe, 8:30 pm
- September 17 w/Craig Martin Experience, at Ashley Pond in Los Alamos, 5:30 pm
- September 20 w/Craig Martin Experience, wedding in Los Alamos

----------

Before we get to the meat of this post, I have a couple "admin" items. First, I post my blog updates on Facebook. If you aren't on Facebook or don't check it regularly, and you want to see when I post something new, sign up for email updates. All you have to do is enter your email address in the box on the right of the page and presto!--you'll know when I post. Second, feel free to leave comments at the bottom of each post, if you are so inclined. I welcome your feedback. Finally, feel free to forward my blog to anyone you might feel is interested. I write on a wide variety of topics that I'm sure will appeal to someone!

----------

Now, on to this week's thoughts:

A couple weekends ago, I reached a surprising state of near-bliss. I say surprising because the weekend started out a bit rough. My wife was sick starting the Wednesday before, which caused me to miss a gig Thursday night (it would have been an overnighter in Las Vegas, NM, the Mrs. was stuck to the couch in that virus-induced daze I'm sure we've all been through, and she needed help keeping kids on track). But, I got to spend some quality time with the kiddos. On Friday, I ran some errands, took a nice bike ride up in Los Alamos (Bayo Canyon, down & back up), and got a nice walk with the dog. Saturday saw a 2-hour ride on a trail I hadn't ridden in 10 years, which started and ended at the front door. I also got my son out on a trail ride. On, Sunday, we took a sweet hike down to the Rio Grande with the kids (their longest/toughest ever?). That was all while cleaning up/arranging my studio for piano lessons, finishing a shelf/homework center (more on this one later), shuttling kids, mentoring a friend in the use of power tools (no fingers lost!), working on my wife's studio work table (more on this later, too), processing some data from my actual day job, and building/setting up a lamp in my studio (look for this, too, I guess). Life is pretty good, and I had the thought that gee, I live in paradise!

I'm not writing all this to prove that I'm a busy-body with a wonderful life, but to contrast my rosy outlook today with that of several short years ago. When we moved to Los Alamos in 2003, we looked at it as a temporary stop on our life journey, a way to live and work in Northern New Mexico for a while while looking for other opportunities. But then we became involved in community--my wife taught for a while at a local elementary school, and she got to know other artists. I worked (and still work) at the Lab, ski patrolled, and played music. We did as much as we absolutely could outdoors. But we kept looking elsewhere. Car trip conversations would often begin, "you know, when we leave Los Alamos, we could go..." I've applied for jobs in Montana, Colorado, Wyoming, Oregon, and Idaho. We've fantasized about real estate in other parts of the country. We were starting to feel stuck in a place we didn't really want to be. The closest we came to actually leaving town, though, was this past spring. I applied for a job at Colorado Mesa University in their Biology Department as a lecturer, and we started packing and getting rid of stuff, putting the energy out into the universe that yes, we were ready for a change. Eventually, what we came to, though, is that we have it pretty good where we are and decided to stay put, town-wise. A month after making that decision, we found and moved to a different house, roughly 2 miles from the old house, and thus embarked on the next phase in our chosen locale. A week after moving in, I got the rejection letter from CMU, which confirmed our notion that staying put was the best decision.

And therein lies the point--we decided to make the best of it. We've always been pretty flexible, as long as we could have a few things--access to mountains and/or open spaces, other creative folks nearby, clean air and water, and a quiet neighborhood in which to call home. Beyond these desires and our creature necessities, we hold firm to the belief that everything else will fall into place. It might not be exactly as we thought it would be, but it will be OK. And so it is with our decision to remain in White Rock. We are glad we chose to stay put, but it took the experience of reframing to come to that place. We had to deviate from the notion that we were stuck--that our current locale was a temporary stop--and realize that we were involved in our community on multiple levels. Our home feels like home, and it is because we choose to make it so.

I hope that you are also glad that you decided to stay put, wherever "put" may be. I hope that you are making the best of your situation and living your life to its fullest. Everyplace has good and bad, every day has ups and downs. It's what you make of the mix that counts. If your situation is lacking, I hope you can find the strength and resolve to either see that you are indeed blessed in some way that you overlooked, or to make the changes necessary to realize your blessings. Taking some time each day to reflect on what is great about your life is part of the power of positive thinking.

In short, if you think that life is wonderful, then it is.

Thanks for reading, and stay positive!

Spry As An Old Dog

First, upcoming events, all with DK & the Affordables:
- Saturday Aug 16, Wedding at Pajarito Mountain
- Saturday Aug 23, Beer & Band at Pajarito Mountain
- Wednesday Aug 27, 6-8 pm, Santa Fe Bandstand on the Plaza
- Thursday Aug 28, Wedding gig in Las Vegas, NM (not NV--we aren't that cool yet!)
- Fall piano lessons start September 1
- Saturday Sept 13, Los Alamos Ashley Pond stage 2:30-4 (Science Fest), then the Cowgirl Bar & BBQ in Santa Fe from 9-midnight

The rest of the Affordables are also playing gigs on Aug 24 in Albuquerque and Sept 12 in Los Alamos, which I've bowed out of, but please go out and see 'em if you get a chance.

------------------

Man's best friend on a ski trip in the Jemez Mountains a few years back. No, Rossignol did no pay me to put their name in this shot. But maybe they should! (I love those skis, BTW.)

A few weeks ago, I was walking with my dog, Rusty the Chocolate Lab, on the trails behind my house, and musing on the pet/human relationship. This musing came as a result of reading some John Gehrach (I just finished his book Standing in a River Waving a Stick which is of course about fly fishing). He was observing the relationships hunters have with their flushing/pointing/retrieving dogs. My dog and I are tight, too, and it stems from our time together training for search and rescue work.

Man's best friend, the much younger model, circa 2006, shown lounging in our freshly mulched backyard of sticks.

Rusty came with the house we bought in 2003. He'd been living with the previous owners of the house and was a year old when we got him. At a year old, he was pretty much a 70-pound puppy and barely knew how to sit on command. So, we went through basic obedience class. At the time, I was very involved in ski patrol, and was looking for some search & rescue (SAR) stuff to do in the summer. So, Rusty and I did agility training, wilderness tracking, and wilderness air-scent search training. The following winter, we tried avalanche rescue training.

One winter we trekked up to Monarch Ski Area in Colorado. Here you can see Rusty's hind end as he searches for someone buried in the snow. Avalanche SAR training and work is pretty tough. 

That was before I had kids, when I could spend an evening and a Saturday every week training a dog, when I could travel a weekend or 2 a month to train with some SAR guru or another (I did have the distinct pleasure to train with Elane Flower (who trained Sizzle, one of the best SAR dogs I've ever seen), Sue Purvis (SAR volunteer, excellent dog trainer, and all-around good person from Crested Butte), and Patty Burnett (who literally wrote a great book on avalanche dog training). I ended up with a well-trained, well-behaved dog. Rusty and I were a month or two away from trying for the New Mexico state certification for K9 SAR when my son was born 2 months early. That put an end to our K9 SAR career, which was for the best. I liked the idea of being a SAR dog handler, but the time commitment was getting to be a bit of a drag (and I had some music projects poised to take off!).

Rusty has been a great family dog. The kids love him, and Rusty helps keeps track of them since they are part of the "pack." Rusty ran, biked, hiked, backpacked, and skied with us. For a long time he could ski as hard as I could (A while back, I put up some pictures with Rusty skiing; you can see them here). But that's changing. He's getting to the age now (12!) where he is slowing down dramatically. A long walk leaves him pretty tired. The heat of summer requires early morning or late evening walks to beat the heat. He has a hard time jumping up into the back of the truck. But he still needs his daily exercise, just like the rest of us.

The old dog could still bound through the snow last Winter (Dec 2013), though at a slower pace than he did 5 years ago. Note the gray eyebrows and muzzle--he looks so distinguished. My gray hairs make me look "distinguished," too.

We ran into one of my wife's former co-workers (Debbie) and her black Lab (Noche) the other day on the "new" trails near our "new" house. Noche is one of Rusty's old dog buddies and is currently 13 years old. His hips are failing, he tore an ACL in a hind leg, and his muzzle and legs are all gray. Still, he was out for his 20-minute walk, same as every other day. As I watched the Rusty's and Noche's faces light up (and tails wag) when they saw each other, I realized that we all need a buddy, especially as we get older. I also realized that we all need to keep going, keep running, keep searching for that hidden rabbit, right up until we can't anymore. I also realized that 13 years old in "human" time is the equivalent of 91 or so "years" of dog time, give or take. I hope that if I live to 91 years old, that I'm as spry as these old dogs.

Thanks for reading!

Do You Take Your Music Seriously?

Writing this post actually brought on a nightmare.

In my dream, I had managed to land a gig at Pranzo, the classy Italian restaurant in Santa Fe. Except now, instead of an intimate setting on the terrace overlooking Santa Fe, it was a 100-seat performance space. I was supposed to play some solo jazz piano, and after my first couple songs, the audience remained unmoved. The booking agent and another prominent pianist from Santa Fe came up on stage, kind of like the managers and coaches of a baseball team when the pitcher can't throw a strike, and basically told me to up my game or leave the stage. Daaaaamn. Strangely enough (or maybe not; it was a dream after all), there were Legos on the piano, but when I started to build, they told me I couldn't play with those, either. It was not a happy dream.

Here I am, circa 2010 at Los Ojos in Jemez Springs, NM. do I look serious enough for you?

Anyway, on with the real story. A few weeks ago, while at a local restaurant with my family, I ran into a prominent Santa Fe pianist while we were waiting in the line for the restroom. He had made the trek from Santa Fe to Los Alamos to hear fantastic guitarist Tony Ceserano and the band he was playing with that night (Jazz Baziliero) at the Ashley Pond bandstand. We struck up a conversation in which I mentioned that I played piano in a couple bands. He asked me, "do you take your music seriously?", I think in context of his job as a booking agent for another local restaurant. He mentioned that he was always looking for new acts. I said, somewhat timidly, that yes, I take my music seriously, but I make my living doing other work. In the back of my mind, I was wrestling with the notion of handing him my business card (which, incidentally and somewhat ironically, I was out of). I was also feeling a bit insecure in my abilities--the only act I've seen at his venue was John & Barbara. John in this case is John Rangel, one of the best jazz pianists I've ever heard and seen, and he was accompanying a fantastic singer (Barbara). So naturally, I was thinking that if that is the caliber musician he was after, well, I have some serious practicing to do in order to grace his venue with my performances. At that point, our conversation was interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door, a quick "see you at the show!" and my turn in the restroom queue.

Since then, I've been wrestling with the question, "do you take your music seriously?" It is such a rich question! I take my music seriously enough to practice every day, to rehearse regularly, to play out on nights and weekends, to travel fairly long distances to gigs, to teach others. Heck, we purchased a new house in part to get more space to explore more music! How much of my life to I have to dedicate to music to be "serious?" Some of it? All of it? Do I have to suffer for my art to meet the criteria for taking it seriously? My days of jumping through hoops to meet the expectations of others has come to an end, so if that's what's required to be serious, then I'm not.

I guess I take music seriously enough to know what my limits are. Playing a solo jazz piano gig at a fine venue such as Pranzo is probably not in the cards for me right now, at least not without some practice and expansion of my repertoire--the last several years I've been pursuing ensemble work in rock and jazz. I'm awed and inspired by a variety of pianists nearby, including John Rangel, Andy Kingston, David Geiss, Fran Meier, Juanita Madland, Joe Cox, and Brant Leeper. I would hope to fall somewhere in the spectrum of decent players in Northern New Mexico because I do play quite a bit. But maybe I don't, and maybe I should be practicing right now instead of writing this blog post!

So, do I take my music seriously? As you can see, my answer is "Yes, but..." A "taking it seriously" answer might be "Yes, absolutely. I'm always up for another opportunity to share my music. Here's my business card. Send me an email and I'll get you my press kit." I'd be calling John Rangel to see about a lesson or two. I'd be enrolled in a music program. I'd pursue other music projects. I'd quit the day job.

In the end, answering the question, or at least the way I've limited it here, is a pointless pursuit (or "bogus" as put by one of my band-mates). I am pretty sure that my partner in conversation four paragraphs ago did not mean to limit this question, either. I have (and I'm sure he has) seen too many people ruin their lives for the sake of taking something too seriously. I've seen it in art, music, outdoor pursuits, science, and commerce/free enterprise. (I've also seen people blow things off, to their detriment, but that's another topic for another day.) We should strive to be well-rounded people. So, I guess I'll say that I take my music seriously, but only in the context of a living a full and interesting life.

And (chuckle, wry grin) I suppose I could clear all this up with a phone call or an email to the man who posed the question to me. Maybe I'll get that press kit together and send it along with my inquiry. But then I wouldn't have this essay to show for all my assumptions, insecurity, and musing. 

Thanks for reading!

I'd Rather Be Busy Than Bored

Two weekends ago (June 7th time frame), the Affordables made the trek to Tucumcari, NM for their 2nd annual Rockabilly on the Route festival. It was all things mid-20th century nostalgia--old cars, rockabilly/rock & roll music, greasy hair, motorcycle boots, rolled-up jeans, sideburns, tattoos, pinup girls. Two bands traveled from way far away (Norway & Colombia!) to make the gig. The Affordables played a morning gig for the car show, and then backed Elvis impersonator Justin Shandor for the headline gig. I said it on Facebook, but I'll repeat it here: Justin confirmed what I somehow always knew--a gig with Elvis would be an absolute blast.

Affordables rockin' with Justin Shandor, the Ultimate Elvis. Photo by Andrea Huber (taken from the Rockabilly on the Route Facebook page).

 Yes, I had a great time. No, I didn't get enough sleep.

A few nights ago I had another gig with the Craig Martin Experience (CME) at Los Alamos County's new stage at Ashley Pond. The stage is really nice, and creates a great venue for which to see an outdoor show. We were initially afraid we'd get rained out, but after a few mini-squalls rolled through, we were able to take the tarps off the electronics and swing the night away. It was a fitting tribute to Horace Silver--we played 4 of his tunes--who passed away on Wednesday, June 18. Silver had a hand in creating the highly enjoyable, groove-heavy genre known as "Hard Bop," which CME has gravitated towards.

A great evening of music with the Craig Martin Experience. Great photo by Britton Donharl.

My next gig is back with the Affordables at Ashley Pond for the Los Alamos Summer Concert Series.

----------

Well, we are about 13/16 moved or, somewhere between 3/4 and 7/8. All the bedrooms at the old house are cleared out, the backyard fixtures (patio table, rain barrels, etc.) are moved, and the furniture is all at the new place. What's left are some odds & ends in the shed, tid-bits in the kitchen and pantry, and building materials, a couple chairs, and my workbench in the garage. Probably another truckload, and/or another few evenings back & forth. Luckily we didn't have to move far!

I did some work at the new place this week, getting my studio set up for lessons (first one is Friday!), and getting the garage/shop set up for the myriad chores I have at the new place (putting my son's room together, unpacking, finishing the shop stuff, etc.). I still have some work to do at the old place (pigtailing outlets, installing trim, yard care), but the renters move in July 15. On top of that, our trusty 4Runner decided to throw an electrical fit while we were moving. Every time we open or close the back hatch, the doors lock. If you unlock it from the inside, no problem. If you try to unlock it from the outside, however, the alarm sounds. What a drag. I've heard from my mechanically inclined friends that electrical issues on a car are a challenge (expletives omitted). But, I get to tear into that soon, too! In the mean-time, I think I'll look into disarming the alarm.

----------

Also this week I defended a proposal that, if funded, will lay the groundwork for next-generation antibiotics. Bacteria are out-evolving us, making our current batches of antibiotics obsolete; our proposal looks at turning a pathogen's iron-scavenging machinery against it (stay tuned, hopefully). Many articles have been written about the end of the antibiotic era; this one from the CDC gave me pause (no, I didn't read the entire 114 pages, but scan it and you'll understand why we are working on antibiotic resistance at a national security lab). In my opinion, the downfall of humanity will be the combination of a lack of clean water, untreatable and contagious infection by some sort of nasty pathogen, interpersonal and international violence, air pollution, and crop failure. Wow, that went to dark places fast. To prevent this doomsday, wash your hands, go solar, love your neighbor, ride your bike, and buy organic food. (Oh, but I wish it was that simple!)

 ----------

Anyway, we are enjoying our new house. The kids spent the week with Grammy & Grampy in Colorado, so my wife and I felt like we were staying in a vacation home--no kids, can't find anything, don't know where the lights are, everything is nicer than at home, etc. But no, we did indeed upgrade, and it was a great move. Now we just need working internet access so I don't have to type this blog from the library!

Thanks for reading!