Greetings, my fellow port-swillers! Ol’ Robbo is back safe and sound from his latest travels.
* For those of you who have followed Robbo’s pteromechanophobia over the years, you may be interested to know that it seems to be changing as time passes. While the fear certainly is still there, as on last evening’s beastly choppy ride back from O’Hare, these days it seems to provoke a counteracting disgust at the idea of being held hostage to it which allows me to thrust it aside. Dare I say that ol’ Robbo is feeling….empowered? (Thank you, Holy Mother and St. Christopher!)
* I have mentioned before my young side-kick on the project with which these little jaunts are associated. (She’s the one who says “flush out” when she means “flesh out” and thinks that a nursery called “Garden of Gesthemene” is probably named for the family that owns it.) Not to pick on her, but I am also amused that one who can occassionally spout such politically correct platitudes about How To Fix Society will become such a Hobbesian child of nature when it comes to elbowing her way to the front of the boarding line so that she can snag a spot in the overhead bins and not get her bag green-tagged. I briefly considered joshing her about it, but somehow felt that a “do as I say, not as I do” joke would either rocket right over her head or else offend her, so I let it go.
* I will say in my colleague’s defense that her attitudes and behavior can be attributed to the fact that she is simply young and silly. What fills me with horror is that there are folks who never break out of this mindset despite the lessons that age and experience offer.
* Speaking of amusing, my travelling book this time was The Exploits and Adventures of Brigadier Gerard by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, in which the said Hero of the piece relates his experiences as a young Hussar in Napoleon’s Grand Armee with Gallic vim, vigor and bravado, combined with a sometimes Bertie Woosterish cluelessness. The tales are absolutely delightful, and even though Gerard is in every way the antithesis of old Flashy (except in his fancy for the ladies), any fan of George MacDonald Fraser’s works would, I think, consider him well worth a read. (Yes, Mothe, you may borrow my copy when you come down for Easter. But I’ve already written my name in it!)
*In the taxi home from the airport, I found myself riding with a cabbie I recognized. This is the second or third time this has happened, indicating to me that I am becoming what is known as a “seasoned traveler.”
*Note to the (apparently) squiffy fellah at the hotel the other evening who decided to try his hand at playing medleys on the lobby piano for his friends: Dude, you’re terrible. Take up the kazoo. And if you’re so desparate for material that you break into “Joy To The World” at the end of February, it’s probably a sign that you should call it a night.
* Speaking of which, I have taken to chatting with a fellah at the RFEC who, like me, enjoys playing Bach at the keyboard. Apparently, he is part of a little musickal circle that gets together from time to time to hear each other perform. Recently, he suggested that I ought to come along to one of these evenings, to which I replied (paraphrasing Dear Oscar) that the trouble with playing musick in publick is that when one plays well, nobody listens, and when one plays poorly, nobody talks.
*In other words, Ol’ Robbo doesn’t want somebody else blogging of him, “Dude, you’re terrible. Take up the kazoo.”
*Well, ol’ Robbo is off to get a much-needed haircut today. I have long noticed that when the thatch gets a bit too thick, it has a corresponding influence on my mood, causing me to feel slovenly and enervated. Once the weeds have been whacked back a bit, I typically feel much more energetic. I’ve taken to calling this phenomenon a “reverse Samson” and hope that the term will some day find a permanent home in the family lexicon.
*Hey, other people want to change the world. I only want to influence my little patch of it. Just imagine.
19 comments
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February 25, 2011 at 4:31 pm
mothe
You know that you REALLY ought to join that performance circle from RFEC. You can’t REALLY think anyone would REALLY encourage you to take up the kazoo. False Modesty. V. wicked. REALLY.
February 25, 2011 at 6:39 pm
diane
I knew I was getting older, when in the wake of a heated “discussion” with a young friend, my main thought was “he’ll grow out of these silly ideas”. Now I’m starting to wonder.
You can always post a clip of your piano playing here. We will be happy to not tell you you should take up the kazoo. Go ahead and join – I’m sure it will be both encouraging and delightful.
February 25, 2011 at 6:56 pm
Robbo
False modesty be damned. I simply don’t have the time to practice and I’m not about to trundle out my imperfect sight-readings for a lot of strangers.
February 25, 2011 at 7:24 pm
mothe
Well, allis I know is that you sight read a good deal better than many people play with any amount of practice. (“I don’t play accurately; anyone can play accurately, etc etc.”) I wouldn’t say you play with a great deal of feeling, merely with a great deal of intelligence’ and that’ll DO.
February 25, 2011 at 9:41 pm
Robbo
Oh, you’re just in Helen Seinfeld mode again. Such a lovely boy! Who wouldn’t love this boy?
February 25, 2011 at 9:46 pm
Robbo
Sorry….power keeps flicking on and off. Wind of many fathers blow through home of port today.
As it happens, I play with tolerable feelin’ these days, inspired by all the hot young period instrument groups like the Freidberg Orchestra and Cafe Zimmermann.
Diane, I’m afraid I don’t even get the luxury of having “discussions” with my colleague. I fear there would be no end of trouble if I tried to disabuse her of her silly notions, so I simply bite my tongue.
February 25, 2011 at 10:06 pm
GroovyVic
Um….know any Billy Joel?
February 25, 2011 at 10:18 pm
Robbo
Ah, you well know by now that I’m the family dork. My brother used to play, I think, “Piano Man” when he was a kid.
February 25, 2011 at 10:45 pm
GroovyVic
Ah, just the family dork? Heeee….
February 25, 2011 at 11:53 pm
Sister
you should join the group. don’t take up the kazoo. you are good enough and should find the time – some robbo time. i have finally carved out some mama time for voice classes and am going to be hanging on to this with a tight grip forever. it’s amazing what one hour a week doing what you really and truly love to do for yourself will do for the rest of your week and for the rest of the people that you love and have to take care of whether you are tired or not. and really, are you the family dork? i would have said the piano man player was the family dork. well you are both kind of dorky. of course i am not the family dork 😀
February 26, 2011 at 1:06 am
mothe
Oh now—DORKS? MY boys DORKS? Never. Robbo, I would remind you that I have ever been rayther brutally objective about you lot (DID I encourage your brother to keep on with piano lessons??) so that when I say that you play well (if inaccurately from time to time) I know whereof I speak. Or are you going to suggest that…I don’t? By the bye, Sister is a very nice lyrical soprano indeed, with a range well out of the hearing of the average dog, just the right sort of Mozart-Bach voice. I have actually heard her.
February 26, 2011 at 2:03 am
Robbo
Such a nice boy!
February 26, 2011 at 5:34 am
Mrs. Peperium
For a while I rode a horse named Kazoo. He was lovely in disposition – big heart- and a great jumper. We took many a high fence together. But as talented as he was, he could not play the piano.
I like your theory- “Hey, other people want to change the world. I only want to influence my little patch of it.” It falls in line with my catfish one. A catfish does not move around – it resides in the same small patch of water its entire life, so to speak. But that patch where it resides is cleaner than all the area around it because the catfish’s job is to clean it up…
February 26, 2011 at 2:20 pm
Robbo
Funny – I once rode a horse named Catfish. He didn’t move very much, but tended to stay in one spot. Got kinda messy after a while ; )
February 26, 2011 at 7:35 pm
Sister
I used to ride a horse named Bucky who wanted to dominate EVERYONE’S patch, and usually did. He wasn’t named Bucky for nothing. Now HE was not a very nice boy, was he Mother and Brother? (Ok he was nice to me (sometimes) but certainly not nice to anyone else).
February 26, 2011 at 8:10 pm
Robbo
Ah, the Buckster. I don’t recall having a lot of trouble with him myself, but then again I was heavier than you.
February 26, 2011 at 11:47 pm
Sister
And I was the only person who was never thrown by him… all 98 lbs of me. It was pure determination on my part.
February 27, 2011 at 3:26 pm
mothe
Ah, Bucky. The most cross-grained bit of horseflesh ever. Unlike most horses, he was SMART as well as MEAN. James Thurber could have written a story about him called “The Horse That Bit People.” He was afraid of only one thing on earth: SISTER.
February 27, 2011 at 11:55 pm
Sister
And the baton whip.