The Summer so Far

It's been a while since I posted so I thought I'd catch up on "The Summer So Far". It's been pretty routine in a lot of ways: the annual neighborhood Independence Day parade was its usual self, with lots of kids and animals, flags and decorations, the usual songs sung by the 'hood's own "OK Chorale", yours truly working the neighborhood association T-shirt booth, and of course the great snacks. Everyone really missed Mr. Holmes's lemonade, though; the cokes generously donated by our local bottling plant just didn't make up for the loss.

At the end of the month I attended a cabaret workshop called "Summer in the City". It was 5 days of pretty intense work. A group of 16 singers worked with the two leaders and two pianists, and then we were also split into smaller groups to work with guest teachers at various times. I generally found the critiques and opinions of the guest teachers to be more useful and on point than those of the organizers, who I thought were more into the "tag team" mode of echoing each others' supposedly wonderful insights, but then again that's just me. I have a history of being rather skeptical during these exercises--which of course begs the question, Why do I go? Why do I spend what probably came to about $1000 (tuition, airfare, expenses) to come away thinking that at least 50% of my time there was wasted? Likely it has to do with the sense of "cabaret isolation" I feel here in good ol' Durham, NC. There's nobody besides my pianist, Glenn, and my husband, to give me knowledgeable feedback that I really value. I love it that they do it but after a while I get the feeling that I need more. And when I go and seek more, my problem is that I don't generally find it sincere. The insincerity is not confined to me, mind you; they're equally useless with everybody. I totally understand that with cabaret singing, it's mostly about the lyrics--telling the story, conveying the emotion, making it personal, drawing in the audience. But my problem comes when, as most of these workshops seem to do, this is achieved by almost completely ignoring the musical part. I don't understand, and I guess I never will, why it is somehow taboo to point out out-of-tune singing, unmusical phrasing, or anything having to do with faulty technique to participants. Someone can be the best actor in the world, and the best servant the lyricist ever had, but if they don't sing in tune---well, I just don't want to hear it. You'll never get me to listen to the story if my ear is complaining! Then when these lapses are not pointed out to participants, I lose respect for the teachers.

Which is why I said to both my mom and Arturo: if I ever say again that I want to go to one of these things, PLEASE, talk me out of it!

Diana is getting ready to go back to school. She is outfitting her apartment at Elon University (about 45 minutes away from here) with her friends, doing a marvelous job custom decorating chairs, coordinating bathroom accessories, etc. However she still hasn't signed up for the required "don't drink" course and the required "rules for cars" course for those who will have cars on campus. Things like this always put me in such a pickle: part of me wants to stop nagging and let her find out consequences on her own (like not being able to register her car), and part of me knows that if I follow through, I'll just be making more work, more nagging, and more aggravation for the wrong person: ME. It's such a merry-go-round and I wish I were a wise enough parent to know the answer.

Oh, and I had a birthday. Lots of wishes from friends, a bevy of wonderful books from my sweet husband, a little mad money from Mom--but nothing from my children. (Except a card.) Probably I would save myself a lot of grief if I would just let this one go but it really rankles. In their entire lives neither one of them has EVER had a birthday go by without a present. How is it that I'm so undeserving? Now, if Diana ever reads this (which is not likely but always possible), she'll be posting a comment that says, "But I took you out to lunch, Mom!". My reply will be, yes, you did, but no, you didn't. What happened was we were out shopping at the mall, decided to get lunch, and I made you pay. Besides, I don't think $6 makes for a very appropriate present for your one and only mother. So there.

I guess that's all the angst for now. If you have something to say, do say it! Maybe if I got more comments I'd do more writing.

Gotta go.........TTYL.