KID MAY BE CLOSER TO LEAVING THAN THEY APPEAR

 

There are few things that make me more sad or more excited than this looming reality.  It is a frame-of-reference thing where I am either an empty-nester or proud parent of a pre-adult on the cusp of living their own adventure.

The two oftentimes live simultaneously in my awareness and it reminds me of a well known icon in the Orthodox tradition regarding Mary “Joy of All Who Sorrow”; that juxtaposition of joy and sorrow somehow intertwined.

I’ve also heard it referred to as “bright sadness” in Orthodox spirituality that recognizes the profound beauty all around us as well as the taint of that beauty in how we treat ourselves, others, and the world created by God.

Maybe it is the simultaneity of that experience in relation to my daughter’s leaving home eventually that aims for something deeper and allows me to skirt the edge of despair that I sometimes find myself teetering on.

_____________

Flim & the BB’s

Not too many years from now no one will remember that I loved an obscure Jazz quartet known as “Flim & the BB’s”, alas.

They had their heyday in the mid to late 1980’s which was perfectly in sync with my late high school and early college days.

It was in the infancy of musical compact disks that were transforming recorded sound from analog recordings to digital ones.

The few CD offerings of the time were sold in long and narrow cardboard boxes that I would cut up and use to create wall art.

On those CD’s were three letters, either AAD, ADD, or DDD which indicated Analog or Digital: [recording][mixing/editing][mastering].

In those early days Flim & the BB’s were practically the only ones doing all three digitally with the rare designation of three D’s.

This is because in the late 70’s they were a group of studio musicians brought together by 3M labs to help develop the digital technology.

But they stayed together to record several CD’s (all of which I have) and their second one won Jazz album of the year in 1984.*

“Flim” is Jimmy Johnson who plays fretless bass and has gone on to back many famous artists as a much sought after bassist.

The other three include Bill Berg (drummer) and Billy Barber (keyboardist) who provided their initials for the aforementioned “BB’s”.

That leaves the saxophonist and sometimes flautist Dick Oatts who I later learned was a jazz professor at University of Cincinnati for a time. 

Their music is a time tunnel that has wormed its way to the present and is bidirectional,  connecting older me to the younger me.

It takes me back to my high school physics teacher’s house where he introduced me and my two best friends to some great music.

And if Flim & the BB’s are headed towards obscurity, well, I guess I am not too far behind and my kids will inherit these ancient “CD’s”.

*Tunnel

__________________

Sister Christian Dream or “the time has come”

 

The dream was set in a house I didn’t recognize, but it was my house and I was in a large tile-floored basement with random items scattered about.

I found parts of a disassembled kid’s sized drum set piled in a corner and I began assembling it without being sure I knew how to put it together. 

The hi-hat was the most difficult because I had to find the two matching cymbal sizes and figure out how they connected to the foot pedal mechanism.

There was a bass drum, of course, and two toms that had a hollow melancholy resonance to them that I tried out with the smallish drum sticks.

I experimented with laying down a simple groove and found it awkward to coordinate my feet and my hands to make all of these moving parts work.

Eventually I found a rhythm and not only a rhythm but a strange musicality of sorts that made it seem like it was something more akin to a guitar or piano.

It’s hard to explain but I was playing them in a way that they could accompany a singer without any other instruments involved and so I began singing.

The song was “Sister Christian” by Night Ranger and it was beautiful.  I felt my heart swelling as my voice quivered with emotion, a vulnerable vibrato.

“Motoring, what's your price for flight?  In finding Mr. Right…  Sister Christian, oh, the time has come, and you know that you’re the only one to say, OK.”

A time jump occurs and I’m performing this drum and voice duet on American Idol.  The celebrity judge is barely composed, tears running down his cheeks.

But this small drum set is too old and rickety.  It begins to break under my weight and playing, “Where you going? What you looking for?  You know…”

***

St. George in Toronto

 

It was 

long ago

and

far away

under a dome

of 

Byzantine derivation.

It was

chandelier shine

and

rainbow radiance.

People, places, & things

from 

always now

 and ever unto 

ages of ages,

Amen.

***

Singing in my Basement (Pandemic Pascha 2020)

 

I hear singing in my basement 

from a phone that streams

voices from Indianapolis

where we were married and

where my son was baptized.

They are songs and voices

we still remember all these 

years later like putting on an

old worn coat that is comfortable 

and smells like incense and coffee.

The thing is, no matter where

we find ourselves these days

“Christ is risen from the dead

trampling down death by death”

and this hope connects us.

***