Monday, December 31, 2007

Funny 12 Days of Christmas

posted by Jay @ 4:16 PM 0 comments

Sunday, December 30, 2007

A Little Meander About Trains and Voiceovers

So it's finally happening. I'm taking an eight-day trip to visit family up the West Coast. Starting in San Francisco on January 1 at 9:00 p.m., I'll head to Redding, where I'll visit my paternal grandparents, aunt, and one cousin and her family.

From Redding, I'll head to Albany on my choo-choo train, where my sister Jessica will pick me up and take me into Sweet Home, OR, for a day-and-a-half visit. From there my sister, who lives in Portland, will pick me up when she picks up her daughter after holidays with Emma's grandparents (my parents), and we'll all head to Portland where I'll stay for another day-and-a-half.

I'll take a 17 hour journey from Portland to San Francisco, starting mid-day on January 8 and arriving at SF's Union Square on January 9 at 9:20 a.m. What an adventure! I'm taking my camera and planning to pretend like I'm on a great adventure, dining in the dining car and drinking in the lounge. I can't wait!

Which brings me strangely to voice overs.

I've always been fascinated by people who make their living doing voice overs. I once researched a guy who does movie trailers, and found that there are five "main" voice over guys living in Hollywood.

But tonight I looked up Amtrak's "Julie," only to stumble across an article called "The Voice" in The Boston Globe." My voice over geek hit high burn when I started Googling around and found that Tom Glynn -- who greets Bank of America, United, Apple, and CVS customers like me every day -- is a musician. And a good one!



So bon voyage to me. And if you're at all geeked out like I am about voice over talent ("What do they look like?" "Are they real people?" Etc), then you'll enjoy these links.
And don't even get me started on Amtrak's "Julie." (She saves them millions per year.)



Yes, I'm fascinated.

Happy New Year and happy trails!


posted by Jay @ 7:04 PM 1 comments

Saturday, December 29, 2007

My New Bike

Yup, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to me! I got a new (used) bike!


After three months searching Craigslist, I finally found one I liked in Millbrae, took BART down, and brought it home two days ago.

Yippee!


posted by Jay @ 12:13 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Blazing My Own Trail

Immediately when I write "Blazing My Own Trail" as a title for this post, I am mindful that all of us blaze our own trail. Everyone I know has taken what was given and either pursued opportunities available or eschewed them for something entirely different. Nonetheless, they blazed their own trail.

When I write "Blazing My Own Trail," however, I am coming from the point of view of a young man, and now fully grown man approaching 40, who went through a long period of departure. Departure from the cult-like beliefs of my parents. And to understand this fully, one probably needs to consider people who escape the pockets of secret cults sprinkled around the U.S., like those found in Utah, New Mexico, Arizona, and Southwestern Colorado.

My life has been about departure. Now it is finally about return. I'm sure my father would like that return to include a prodigal son type of return to god, faith, and conviction of things not seen.

But for me, return is a bit more like pulling a U-turn at an intersection. Seven short, but seemingly long years away from music, and I am finally returning.

As I return to teaching piano and coaching voice, I have begun pulling dusty books from my personal library. Perhaps to center myself. Perhaps to reconnect more fully. Perhaps just to refamiliarize myself to the world of music with a new set of experiences to draw from.

The book I am re-reading now is "The Well-Tempered Keyboard Teacher." Well-tempered here refers to a set of preludes and fugues written in all 24 major and minor keys by Johann Sebastian Bach in 1722. Its purpose, Bach stated, was "for the profit and use of musical youth desirous of learning, and especially for the pastime of those already skilled in this study." The current version contains 24 additional works later written and which now comprise the generally regarded volume. I was taught that its main purpose, like "Hanon in 60 Exercises" or the exercises of Czerny, was to ensure facility, technique, and dexterity across all keys. Indeed, at one point I could claim the same, as I devoured everything that came across my piano, from solo work to accompanying.

I can't say that I appreciated the book, "The Well-Tempered Keyboard Teacher," based on this play on words when I was in college. But, indeed, seeing things through newly opened, more broadly experienced eyes has been an encouragement to me. That this is the journey I needed to take. That the last seven years have not been lost or a waste of time.

This excerpt from the book summarizes a great deal for me:

"For many pianists, becoming a teacher is a decision made more by necessity than by true ambition. Often one begins to teach because one has already come so far and has no great desire to pursue a different professional career. Although this seeming backing into place is the route traveled by many pianists in the process of becoming teachers, a large number of them discover a new part of themselves when they begin to teach." -- The Well-Tempered Keyboard Teacher

A difference for me would be that I loved teaching from age 16, when I began teaching beginning students, not knowing that I "shouldn't." But there is buried another idea here that liberates me:

- "Backing into place" perfectly describes how I arrived at teaching, and how I felt after so many years of study. It is why I tentatively explored and soon immersed myself in an entirely new career track upon moving to New York. (How that happened, I'll never fully understand.) It better illustrates my own thinking; that thinking having been "I felt like I needed to see if I could do something else." I always wondered if music was the only thing I could do.

- Extrapolating a bit, I submit that studying music, or karate, or any other art form is unlike studying business or biology. Many of us in the arts begin in grade school to study intensely so that by the time we reach college, much of who we are has become formed in our art. Whereas a business major might simply have checked a box when he first began his college career. So it's no surprise to me that I felt in 2000 that I had already lived a full life (25 years) in the arts. I believe now that it was a misguided belief, but without counsel or a mentor with the right perspective, I can't regret it. I can't regret the experience I've gained, and expect to embrace who I am and have become as being richer than it would have been if I'd stayed on my track.

I remind myself that I had to break free of my father's "greenhouse" simply to attend college. At 25, it was my form of rebellion and personal investment. (Who, after all, goes to college as a form of rebellion?) So this journey has been mine alone in many ways. And I find a bit of comfort in that.

All of this rambling is as illuminating, supporting, and encouraging as it is superfluous. I'm just a bit of matter hobbling around with other bits of matter, all trying to eek out a living on this spec of a planet in the middle of a spec of a universe in the midst of god knows how many other universes. So while I recess into my own head to figure out the meaning of my life, the rest goes on. Shaking the head and saying, "You're not the only thing on earth that matters. Get a grip."

But this is my life. This is me claiming my life. Because nobody else is handing it to me, I have to claim it to keep my sanity.

My life is music, and I'm on my journey back home.

posted by Jay @ 10:00 AM 0 comments

Saturday, December 01, 2007

Opus

My grandmother this morning told me by phone that she and the rest of the family, meaning my grandfather, aunt, and one cousin who still live in Redding, have been waiting for me to come to this decision.

"We didn't want to say anything like 'You are wasting your talent,'" she said. "We figured you just needed to go through what you needed to go through and eventually you'd get back to it."

My grandmother was referring to my obsessive avoidance of my past life in music. My experience in business and nonprofit management really began to ramp up in the mid-90s when I was still in college. My involvement in music (teaching, performing, directing) began to taper off in 2001 after I decided doing eight shows a week in New York wasn't for me and that I was enjoying the challenge in my new found "business digs" on 41st and Third Ave.

I even began to secretly look down on artists, teachers, and musicians. That truth needs no more consideration, except that it was one of the stupidest thoughts I've ever had.

At this point, I've made fine money. I've lived humbly. In fact, "humble living" has been most of my life.

But I've also been running scared. Afraid of valuing myself. Unable to feel my own worth. Believing the J-O-Y song from childhood that basically put Jesus first, Yourself last, and Others in between.

I have decided during the past two months that the universe finally said, "It's time to do what you know. Quit dicking around. Here, have a dose of this and a dose of that, and come back to me when you've had enough."

So I am purposefully rewriting my life. Not in the sense that I will fictionalize my past. Not at all. In fact, my work forward will allow me to embrace all that I have done and gained in the process.

Rather, I am rewriting the tablets of my life by my rules, making informed choices that wouldn't have been informed had I not grown through these experiences. I will not apologize for the two seemingly unrelated areas of growing expertise I bring to the world: music and resume writing. In fact, I'm not only returning "home" to music; I'm also going to invest in my ongoing education in music and writing. They are the two things I love most.

I realized this week that my departure from music teaching was largely based on a book title in one of my college classes on education. The title: "Those Who Can, Teach." The play on words was intended to encourage students to become teachers. In my own experience, however, I learned a nasty phrase I hadn't heard before: "Those who can't, teach." I was repulsed that consensus might think I couldn't because I had decided to become a teacher.

I grew up admiring teachers and wanting to be one. In fact, I started teaching early in life because I didn't realize I shouldn't. Then that phrase caught me by surprise, embarrassed me, and set me on a departure course from anything related to education.

Two-thousand and eight represents a jumping off point. I'm jumping off of the "you're our employee so we promise to pay you every two weeks" bandwagon. Truth is, they could kick me off that wagon anytime they want to, so I'm not really guaranteed anything. But I can be in charge of my own destiny and shape it any way I please with the skills I bring to the world.

I'm jumping into the deep end -- as unapologetically as I can allow myself. I have a choice to believe in the fact that I believe in myself. And to unapologetically let the world know what I think is important; not allow the world to dictate what it thinks I should be doing.

And in truth, the world didn't do any of that. I allowed external influences to build castles of doubt in my own head. So instead of unnecessary finger pointing and blame shifting, I've simply made the decision to go forward.

Now universe. Open up to me. Don't leave me on the street. Don't let me fail my responsibilities. I'm here to work hard and shape my life as I see it in my minds eye.

And by the way, consensus will no longer be my green light. It will no longer restrict or confine me, or motivate me to go a direction I don't want to go but think I should. This is my story and I'm ready to explore what is yet to be written.

Jared, December 1, 2007

posted by Jay @ 12:15 PM 0 comments