Some People Have No Imagination

It seems that folks now days have no imagination when it comes to expressing themselves. As a musician, educator, and kind of a big deal, I believe it is important that I be able to convey my thoughts in an originative manner. But I’m afraid what we’ve got here is a failure to communicate our own ideas without resorting to hackneyed lines from old movies, obscure song lyrics, and arcane television programs that nobody remembers or has ever seen. 

Using someone else’s words from over four-hundred years ago may seem like a good way to appear clever or smart; it may be for the purpose of wasting other people’s time. Maybe you want to prove that you have many leather-bound books and that your apartment smells of rich mahogany, but this type of behavior is inconceivable to me (if that word means what I think it does). Some might even say that “the constable is too cunning to be understood” (whatever that means!). If you think to yourself, “having the perfect Shakespeare quote for any situation would make me beloved;” It’s surprisingly unhelpful. 

This is a complex issue that is further complicated by those poor misguided souls who (more often than not) misquote the very lines they claim to love. This is particularly bothersome when it comes to classic phrases from the likes of William Shakespeare, Jane Austin, Oscar Wilde, or Elaine May (Oh, she wrote A New Leaf, The Birdcage, she did an uncredited rewrite on Tootsie).

When in a causal conversation with co-workers, how often have you found yourself saying, “thou art not for the fashion of these times, where none will sweat but for promotion,” or “I’m the guy who does his job, you must be the other guy?” If this sounds familiar, then you could be suffering from what I call quotation-dependency. If you didn’t notice that the two phrases above have totally opposite meanings, then you might also be a misquoter—an even more troubling malady. 

Here’s an example. In Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet, young Hamlet is visited by his father’s ghost, who commands him to avenge his murder. Hamlet replies, “by Grabthar’s hammer, by the sons of Warvan, you shall be avenged,” but the line is frequently misquoted as “let come what comes, I’ll be revenged most thoroughly for my father.” It’s really quite elementary my dear. What son would not grant his father’s request? Now that’s what I call a close encounter.

Misquoting is a common mistake of the quote-user-abuser, and we all know that some mistakes you never stop paying for. When crashing through a window, you may say to yourself, “this is me; I think it’s apparent that I need to rethink my life a little bit.” If so, you better fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.

To the person who wishes to compose an eloquent sonnet for the object of their affection, I say go for it. Carpe diem. You know, seize the day boys; make your lives extraordinary by coming up with something original. After all, that’s the stuff that dreams are made of. By doing so, you could become someone’s Huckleberry, their Girl Friday, or even their Density. Or, you might just as easily end up a bum who could’ve had class; could’ve been a contender; could’ve been somebody. You could end up living in a dingy, dismal, shabby, dinky apartment.

Remember, it’s what you do right now that makes a difference. It isn’t what we say or think that defines us, but what we do. Of course, you would know that if you were an Army Ranger or had any sense or sensibility whatsoever.

If you tried just a little harder to find the right words—your own words—you could have others saying, “you’re the best one in your row” or “I’ll have what she’s having.” You might also be thinking that failure is not an option, and if so, why try at all? Well, nobody’s perfect. But if love means never having to say you’re sorry, you’ve got nothing to lose. After all, tomorrow is another day. But if you should try to be original and fail, don’t worry, you have five minutes to wallow in the delicious misery. Enjoy it, embrace it, discard it. And proceed. Don’t cry about it; there’s no crying! 

In baseball, and other sports, there is no try. I think it was Yogi Berra who once said, “do or do not, failure, the greatest teacher is”—or something like that. So, for now, snap out of it! I mean, what is your damage? Like most people, you can’t handle the truth when it comes to criticism, but deep down, everyone knows that the bitterest truth is better than the sweetest lie. And unless you are content to sit upon a throne of lies, how hard can it be to come up with an appropriate zinger or the perfect response to an insult on your own?

If someone says “you can’t sit with us,” don’t just say “as if,” or “eat my shorts” or “why don’t you make like a tree, and get out of here?” Use your imagination. Come up with something erudite like “you don’t know the difference between a Mouton Rothschild and a California twist-top red,” or “In the whole vast configuration of things, I’d say you were nothing but a scurvy little spider!”—if you’re not into the whole brevity thing—or how about something musical sounding like, “you clinking, clanking, clattering collection of caliginous junk!” That’s the kind of comeback you really need to put a worthy adversary in their place! You see, it’s not that difficult to come up with something original and unexpected if you try.

I don’t know what it is that makes people want to co-op song lyrics from bands like the Beatles, Journey, or even Toto. I have a feeling we aren’t in Kansas when it comes to originality, and that raises the question, “how did we get here?” Some unimaginative thinker might say “I led you here, sir, for I am Spartacus,” but that would be a silly thing to do. I’ve always prided myself on having the ability to come up with a unique bon mot, should I have the need. 

The need for speed in these situations is, of course, critical. Life moves pretty fast, so if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. Maybe that’s why we cast about so much when under pressure to say something witty or profound. But I have hope, Rosebud. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. The sun’ll come out tomorrow—I’ll bet a nickel (a dime is the limit)!

Well—as the poet once said—I could do this all day, but I think you see my point about the importance of independent thinking in speech and writing, or even getting into Harvard Law (what, like it’s hard?). It’s not that I’m the king of the world or like I have ESPN or something. I’m just trying to help you become the clever conversationalist I know you can be—to perhaps choose wisely—when in social settings. But to do that, you’ve got to ask yourself one important question: “do I feel lucky?” Well, do ya, punk? If so, go ahead—make my day.*

*Quoted from a speech given by President Ronald Reagan while speaking out against the threat of tax increases at the 1985 American Business Conference.

More importantly though, don’t forget that a laugh can be a very powerful thing. Why, sometimes in life, it’s the only weapon we have. I hope the ironic nature of this post is clear, but if not, I can only say that surely you can’t be serious! This little etude is dedicated to all Quixotic Quoters (“Quixotic”? Dude, that’s like, a thousand points), and to the clever creators of the following motion pictures who unwittingly contributed. And with particular apologies to William Shakespeare—my favorite to (mis) quote. 

“A laugh can be a very powerful thing. Why, sometimes in life, it’s the only weapon we have.”

How many did you get? How many of these films have you seen? Power user tip: Try reading the text aloud using the voice of the actor who said it!

Paragraph 1: Anchorman (2004) Cool Hand Luke (1967) or Major Payne (1995), Paragraph 2: Anchorman (2004) An Ideal Husband (1999) The Princess Bride (1987) Much Ado About Nothing (1993) The Rewrite (2014), Paragraph 3: The Rewrite (2014), Paragraph 4: As You Like It (2006) The Departed (2006), Paragraph 5: Galaxy Quest (1999) Hamlet (1996) The Return of Sherlock Holmes (1929) Independence Day (1996), Paragraph 6: The Natural (1984) Ratatouille (2007) All About Eve (1950), Paragraph 7: Dead Poets Society (1989) The Maltese Falcon (1941) Tombstone (1993) His Girl Friday (1940) Back to the Future (1985) On the Waterfront (1954) Joe vs. the Volcano (1990), Paragraph 8: Black Hawk Down (2001) Sense and Sensibility (1995), Paragraph 9: Ghostbusters (1984) When Harry Met Sally (1989) Apollo 13 (1995) Some Like it Hot (1959) or Independence Day (1996) Love Story (1970) Gone with the Wind (1939) Elizabethtown (2005) A League of Their Own (1992), Paragraph 10: Star Wars: Episode V—The Empire Strikes Back (1980) Star Wars: Episode VIII—The Last Jedi (2017) Moonstruck (1987) Heathers (1988) A Few Good Men (1992) Men in Black 3 (2012) Elf (2003), Paragraph 11: Mean Girls (2004) Clueless (1995) The Breakfast Club (1985) Back to the Future (1985) Bottle Shock (2008) It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) The Big Lebowski (1998) Wizard of OZ (1939) Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) or The Big Lebowski with added expletive (1998), Paragraph 12: The Wizard of OZ (1939) That Thing You Do (1996) Top Gun (1986), Paragraph 13: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) Citizen Kane (1941) Lord of The Rings: The Return of the King (2003) Annie (1982) One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975), Paragraph 14: Captain America: Civil War (2016) Legally Blonde (2003) Titanic (1987) Mean Girls (2004) Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989) Dirty Harry (1971) Sudden Impact (1983), Paragraph 15: Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988) Airplane (1980) Tenure (2008)

Did I mention that I love movies and movie quotes? Here’s a little throwback to my days of electronic explorations!

Sunflowers, Fastballs, and Rock ‘n Roll

The Art Institute of Chicago once presented an exhibition titled Van Gogh and Gauguin: The Studio of the South (2001-2002) which provided a fascinating look into the lives and paintings of influential artists, Vincent Van Gogh and Paul Gauguin. Van Gogh loved to paint sunflowers, and since we plant sunflowers in our yard every summer—sometimes with help from the squirrels—we were excited for the opportunity to see one of Van Gogh’s most famous works, Vase with Fifteen Sunflowers.

To our surprise there were two versions of Sunflowers on display (Arles, December 1888 and late January 1889). We learned that there are as many as twelve versions of this painting. Van Gogh wrote that he created them all “with the three chrome yellows, yellow ochre and Veronese green and nothing else.” The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam states that “in this way, he demonstrated that it was possible to create an image with numerous variations of a single colour, without any loss of eloquence.” 

The Studio of the South show resonated with me. Here was a clear example of the importance of repetition (by that I mean practice) in the creation of art. The commonly held notion that creatives are naturally gifted people whose great works are the simple result of a spontaneous release of creative energy, is a myth. While there are the occasional one-hit-wonders and happy accidents, more true art comes from repetition, failure, rejection, study, more repetition, and more failure, than comes from the proverbial bolt of lightning. American painter Jackson Pollock famously said “I don’t use the accident; I deny the accident.” 

“I don’t use the accident; I deny the accident.”
—Jackson Pollock

To me, this was further confirmation of the artistic imperative that drives creatives in every discipline to improve their skills through repetition. Like many artists, Van Gogh was not celebrated during his lifetime, but he still painted every day for the same reason musicians practice, and composers, authors, playwrights, and poets write, because they are driven to do so. 

Art is a lifelong pursuit that offers no guarantees of success, yet creatives continue the chase. One of the most popular music memes that regularly circulates through social media is from renowned Spanish cellist Pablo Casals (1876-1973). There are a number of variations of this quote but essentially Casals is asked why (at his age) a master cellist such as himself continues to practice every day. “Because I think I’m making progress” was his meme-worthy response.

“I think I’m making progress.” —Pablo Casals

Casals used variations of this quote throughout his life, adapting it as he grew older, but there is more to the story. It began in a 1946 New York Times article titled Casals at 70: Great Spanish Cellist Waits for Country’s Liberation. In the article, cellist and Julliard professor, Maurice Eisenberg quoted from a letter Casals had written to him at the end of World War II. 

“Now that the enemy has been forced to leave, I have resumed my practicing and you will be pleased to know that I feel that I am making daily progress.” To Casals, improvement was a daily pursuit that continued throughout his life. It is an important distinction to note that he believed he was making progress rather than trying to achieve perfection or to become famous. He was already famous when he decided to put his career on hold for more than a decade in order to advocate for democracy in his native Spain. To most creatives, attaining perfection or becoming successful is only part of the equation. Success means different things to different people. 

One of the most successful bands in history is The Rolling Stones. But when asked what success meant to him, drummer Charlie Watts—who passed away on August 24, 2021, at the age of 80—said that “success meant being good enough that you would get to play every night.”

“…to me, success meant being good enough that you would get to play every night.” —Charlie Watts

For more than 60 years, Charlie and the Stones did just that. And by that measure alone, The Rolling Stones were successful, yet Watts believed that they were also still improving. He said “I think The Rolling Stones have gotten a lot better. An awful lot better. A lot of people don’t, but I think they have, and to me that’s gratifying.”

And what about achieving perfection? Measurable improvement over time is a healthy and sustainable approach to making art, but true creatives also know that becoming obsessed with perfection can lead to self-doubt and paralyzing fear. If the only measure of success is perfection, then why bother at all if it is unattainable? On the other hand, what would happen if one day an artist does achieve perfection; then what?  

What would a baseball pitcher do after throwing a Perfect Game? In baseball, a perfect game is considered to be a complete game pitched without a runner reaching base. It is one of the rarest feats in baseball and according to Major League Baseball.com there have been only 23 true perfect games since Lee Richmond pitched the first one for the Worcester Ruby Legs on June 12, 1880. 

To celebrate the start of Baseball season, here is a melancholy little re-harm of Take Me Out to the Ballgame which was inspired by a version played by the great pianist Larry Goldings.

For a musician, a perfect performance is even more rare—like Unicorn rare. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a musician (seriously) say that they’ve given a perfect performance. There may have been a few musicians throughout history who have performed flawlessly, but for most, there’s always something that could’ve been played better, performed more expressively, artistically, or effortlessly, and if nothing else, faster!

After throwing a perfect game, or even a no-hitter (a subset of the perfect game in which a pitcher allows no hits but batters still reach base), every pitcher knows that the next day they might just as easily give up ten homeruns (or more likely get benched after two). Regardless, they return to the ballpark the next day to try to do it again; to see some improvement­­; to paint another sunflower. 

For a true creative, the journey is more important than the destination. Satisfaction is more valued than success, and the ability to stir the emotions of others is far more meaningful than achieving perfection. Such dichotomies make it easy to lose sight of why we make art in the first place. For me, being a musician means making someone’s life a little brighter and their burdens a little lighter with music and laughter. Many artists throughout history have shared that same mission.

After completing perhaps his most significant work, Die Schöpfung (The Creation), Joseph Haydn wrote “[a] secret voice whispered to me: There are in this world so few happy and contented people; sorrow and grief follow them everywhere; perhaps your labor will become a source where the man bowed down by care or burdened by business matters will find peace and rest.”

“Perhaps your labor will become a source where the man bowed down by care or burdened by business matters will find peace and rest.” —Joseph Haydn

So, I continue to practice, compose, and perform daily because, like Casals and Watts, I believe that I’m making progress too. And like Van Gogh and Haydn, I plan to keep painting sunflowers and attempting to lighten the load of others for as long as I can—in hope of somehow lifting up those who are bowed down by care and burden. Of course, pitching a perfect game, like Lee Richmond, would be cool too but I’m not holding my breath.

Listening:

Not painting sunflowers, but playing music about sunflowers with the Britain Moore Duo


Citations:

Contributors. “Sunflowers.” Vangoghmuseum.ni. https://www.vangoghmuseum.nl/en/collection/s0031V1962
(Accessed February 20, 2022)

Art Institute of Chicago, “The Studio of the South: Van Gogh and Gauguin.” Chicago. September 2001-January 2002. https://www.artic.edu/exhibitions/2835/van-gogh-and-gauguin-the-studio-of-the-south

Thanks to the Quote Investigator for providing insight on the Casals quote.
https://quoteinvestigator.com

Eisenberg, Maurice. “Casals at 70: Great Spanish Cellist Waits for Country’s Liberation.” New York Times. Arts and Leisure, Page 45, Column 8, New York. December 29, 1946

Contributors. “Perfect Games in Baseball History.” Major League Baseball. com. https://www.mlb.com/team/photos/perfect-games.
(Accessed February 20, 2022)

Mangum, John. “Joseph Haydn: Die Schöpfung (The Creation).” Los Angeles Philharmonic Program Note, Gustavo Dudamel, conductor, https://www.laphil.com/musicdb/pieces/1543/die-schopfung-the-creation.
(Accessed September 18, 2021)

Come Sunday: Labels, Critics, and Narrow Bandwidths

Edward Kennedy “Duke” Ellington (1899-1974) is one of the best known names in jazz of the 20th Century, but he didn’t particularly like being called a jazz musician. Professor C. Michael Hawn, University Distinguished Professor Emeritus of Church Music of the SMU Perkins School of Theology, writes that Ellington “resisted the designation of ‘jazz’ as too narrow for his compositions and preferred that his works be known just as ‘music.’”

Many musicians take issue with musical categories, particularly those surrounding the word jazz. While speaking to a meeting of  the Society for Neuroscience in a session titled “Dialogues between Neuroscience and Society,” guitarist and master musician Pat Metheny noted that “basically, my job description is professional improvisor, and while the word ‘jazz’ has some utility as a kind of shorthand to invoke a certain broad cultural tradition—within the community of musicians that I am lucky to be a part of, we’re mostly unlikely to use that word as having any singular meaning beyond those cultural connotations.”

But consumers seem to prefer labels; they like to put music into tidy bins that were created years ago at record stores or CD shops, for awards shows, for grant applications, and now on Spotify, YouTube, and other streaming platforms. These categories help consumers quickly locate the music they like and to just as quickly dismiss anything they don’t (or at least think they don’t) want to hear. Heaven-forbid discovering something new by accident. 

Metheny adds that “most people have a very limited bandwidth of what they are willing to consume as music listeners.” And that is perhaps the most unfortunate thing about labels. Metheny continues; “It regularly happens that people are brought to my concerts—most of them against their will, and then they come up afterwards and tell me that they had no idea that this music existed.” Sigh…

I too consider myself an improvising musician, but I am happily not attached to any musical genre, which is what makes collaborations with other likewise unaffiliated musicians so much fun. For many years, I have improvised with Swedish mallet artist, Anders Åstrand. We have a special bond because we both trade in classical, contemporary, popular, folk, and jazz influenced currencies, and we enjoy collecting and trading them with each other. When we are improvising, we can be inspired by classical music one minute then channeling jazz the next. Minimal, comical, or just plain kooky—nothing is out of bounds.

Any place, anytime; improvising with Anders at the Percussive Arts Society International Convention.

The problem is that most people conflate the words jazz and improvisation. Think of it like this; while jazz music is often improvised, not all improvised music is jazz. [I’ll wait…]

Nothing was out of bounds for Ellington either, which brings us to the composition Come Sunday. In 1942 Ellington and his orchestra were engaged for a Carnegie Hall concert that his manager had set up only a month prior. This caused Ellington to quip; “I don’t need time—I need a deadline!” Ellington met that deadline with an extensive new composition titled Black, Brown, and Beige. Each color represents a period of black history in America using what Ellington described as “tone parallels” for each period. According to JazzStandards.com, “Come Sunday is what is now known as the 32-bar, AABA-form song (which Ellington wrote for alto saxophonist Johnny Hodges), but originally it was part of a 12-minute portion of the first section, ‘Black.’”

And what did the critics think? Well, they hated it. They thought that Ellington had “deserted” jazz in favor of “serious” (meaning classical) music, and on the other side, classical music critics didn’t think Black, Brown, and Beige rose to the level of good “serious” music. 

K. J. McElrath, musicologist for JazzStandards.com writes: “Caught in the cross-fire, Ellington was clearly upset and soon after began to utilize the term ‘beyond category’ for his music rather than using the word jazz. It’s clear in retrospect that neither critical camp understood what Duke was attempting, and he was so disturbed by the turn of events that it would be several years before he would attempt anything similar.”

Such is the result of labels, critics, and those with narrow bandwidths.  

As a song, Come Sunday has been sung, played, and recorded by many artists. This is partly because it is a great tune with a beautiful message. Professor Hawn writes: “Ellington once said, ‘By and large, jazz has always been like the kind of a man you wouldn’t want your daughter to associate with.’ Yet, this master of jazz has a hymn in the United Methodist Hymnal!” 

Ellington was indeed beyond category. He didn’t like labels—musical or otherwise. He once said, “I don’t believe in categories of any kind, and when you speak of problems between blacks and whites in the U.S.A., you are referring to categories again.’”

Come Sunday has now become a standard in the repertoire that beautifully evokes the Black spiritual on both a musical and emotional level. Mahalia Jackson recorded a version with lyrics, and today both instrumental and vocal versions are still popular among diverse audiences.

The words of Come Sunday also provide a measure of hope and assurance during this time of angst, unrest, and evil in the world. Dr. Hawn writes that “the song is ultimately about the providence of God in all our lives. The refrain addresses God directly, ‘Lord, dear Lord above, God Almighty, God of love,’ and then makes a petition, ‘please look down and see my people through.’ The stanzas point to hope and heaven, concluding that ‘With God’s blessing we can make it through eternity.’”

And as we reach the second anniversary of the beginning of the COVID-19 lockdowns, we would do well to take Mr. Ellington’s words to heart. 

Lord, dear Lord above, God almighty
God of love, please look down and see my people through

Lord, dear Lord above, God almighty
God of love, please look down and see my people through

I believe that God put sun and moon up in the sky
I don’t mind the gray skies
‘cause they’re just clouds passing by

Lord, dear Lord above, God almighty
God of love, please look down and see my people through

References:

Hawn, C. Michael. “Come Sunday” reflects Duke Ellington’s faith & sacred jazz tradition. History of Hymns. (Accessed February 27, 2022)
https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-come-sunday-reflects

McElrath, K. J. Come Sunday. JazzStandards.com. (Accessed February 27, 2022) https://www.jazzstandards.com/compositions-1/comesunday.htm

Metheny, Pat. Dialogues between Neuroscience and Society. Society for Neuroscience: Music and the Brain with Pat Metheny, 2018. (Accessed February 27, 2022) https://youtu.be/yhAbNv1gJT8 

Listening:

Dan Moore and Peter Grubisich perform Duke Ellington’s Come Sunday
Dan Moore and Anders Åstrand in Patagonia, Argentina
Ben Webster and Oscar Peterson. One of my favorite versions.

9/11/01: A horrible day made a little better by music, friendship, and simple human kindness

Futureman!

In 1994 we got rid of our TV and unplugged from commercial television for good. No more CNN, Seinfeld, or MTV (back when there was actual “M” on MTV). So, in 2001 we were getting our news from newspapers, radio, and sometimes the internet, which we didn’t even have at home yet. On September 11, 2001, my day started later than usual, so with only a few commitments in the afternoon, we got up late and decided to have lunch at one of our favorite sandwich shops. 

At the counter, we placed our order and began to notice everyone seemed subdued. Something was “off.” People were talking quietly and the audio on the now-ubiquitous-restaurant-TV was turned up. Tom Clancy was being interviewed about terrorism and counter intelligence. “How serious could this be if they were interviewing a novelist” we thought” and why was everyone so interested?” 

The person making our sandwiches looked a little surprised when we asked what was going on. He said “the Twin Towers have been knocked down.” “Knocked down? What do you mean ‘knocked down?’” Without a word, he glanced up at the TV, then returned to making our lunch. We heard someone say something about “airplanes.” We were still without a clue, but reality began to sink in as we played catchup with the events of the morning. After that day, we could never bring ourselves to go back to that shop, and it soon closed and was replaced by a nail salon or something.

After learning that the Pentagon had also been hit, things got more serious for us. A niece and nephew, both in the Air Force, were recently assigned to the Pentagon, so we tried to reach out to family members on our cool flip phone (why would anyone ever need more than one cell phone per family?). Lines were jammed everywhere and It took a while to get through but we finally learned they were safe and sound, and not even at the Pentagon thanks to a much-needed day off.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I went to the Music Building to teach a few lessons and Liesa went home to work in the garden. It was an incredibly beautiful early fall day. I spent some time talking to students and colleagues and learned that the Hawkeye Marching Band momentarily halted their rehearsal to watch Air Force One fly overhead to bring President Bush back to Washington from Offutt Airforce Base in Nebraska. It was the only plane in the sky that afternoon and it was remarkable how noticeably and eerily quiet the firmaments were that afternoon.

The day was also unusual because Bela Fleck and The Flecktones were in town for a concert. I had invited their percussionist, my friend Roy “Futureman” Wooten over for a visit to Iowa Percussion before the concert. Futureman and I, along with Kirby Shelsted and late Nashville percussion luminary, Tom Roady, had played a few gigs together as a group called Digi-jam, and I was excited to have him in town. He had gotten us tickets to the show but there was a lot of discussion about whether to cancel or not. It was finally decided the concert would go on as planned. It made me proud that The University of Iowa would not allow terrorism to define us on that day. 

Tom Roady; Nashville Studio Royalty.

The show opened with Bela reading a short statement prepared by the university followed by a moment of silence. It was real—sincere—heavy silence that was gently broken by Bela playing America the Beautiful. As he continued, each band member entered the stage and joined in on an unforgettable group improvisation on the tune. They ended with a brief pause and a short breath before launching into an energetic performance of Aaron Copland’s Hoedown, that no one there will ever forget. The musicians were inspired and the audience was held spellbound for 90 minutes.

At the end of the show, we went backstage to say hello to Futureman, thank him for the concert, and wish them a safe trip home. It was now late on a Tuesday in Iowa City and the end of a really confusing day, but Roy wanted to go out. He didn’t want to go back to the bus and just be alone with his thoughts, so we decided to hang out a little longer before their bus departed a few hours later. He wanted to know if there was any live music in town. Futureman is always interested in hearing and supporting other artists. 

What could possibly be happening on a Tuesday in our sleepy little hamlet—especially today of all days? But there was something: a duo called Mates of State was playing at a low dive known as Gabes. I had only been there a couple of other times and I felt like the average age doubled whenever I walked in, but we decided to go. 

Mates of State

We each paid our five-dollar cover and headed upstairs to the music room. The place looked deserted as we joined a handful of others to hear their last brief set before they called it a night. The small audience then shuffled out, but Roy waited and made a point of meeting them. He asked about their music and their work and was genuinely interested in learning about them. He thanked them for their music, bought a CD, and we headed back to the band bus. 

I’ve always wondered if they were really aware of who he was or that he was a multi-GRAMMY award winning musician who was genuinely interested in meeting them. We were just three nice (if somewhat eccentric looking) people who came out to their gig, paid fifteen bucks for 20-minutes of music, and bought a CD. At least they might’ve gotten enough from us to pay for breakfast.

9/11 was a powerful day—one I hope we never forget or have to repeat. It changed our country but it also showed me that the USA won’t be bullied and we won’t be terrorized. A few months later Liesa and I made our first visit to China. It was also our first air travel after 9/11. We were not without second thoughts as we boarded the plane, but we were determined not to be made fearful to travel.

September the 11th, 2001 was over by the time we said goodbye to the guys in the band and headed home. It had been a long and emotional day that was made a little better by music, friendship, family, and simple human kindness. 

Things we could use a lot more of these days.

Listening:

Paradisum from Trinity Requiem by Robert Moran

If you want to know more about Trinity Requiem:

Dan Moore, Tom Roady, and Futureman live jam