Grandpa Era is Over

Happened so quickly. I knew it was coming. Thought I might get a grace period of a year or two, but no…

My days of custodial care for my grandkids are over. They grew up. They are so busy with school, extra-curricular events and friend visits that I’m no longer needed. Mom and Dad no longer need me to cover the morning departure and evening return from school. 

It’s like a death. I keep trying to argue myself out of accepting this, but there’s nothing to else to do. The kids will only continue to grow farther away from me.

Expecting gratitude or recognition for my 10 year stint of caring for my grandkids is a waste of time and energy. Not going to happen. Nothing to do but to construct a new social life that isn’t focused on the kids.

I’ve been grieving the end of this era. I had to spend some time doing that.

Great ten year run with the grandkids. We had a good time together.

Now what?

The obvious answer is that it’s time to fully focus on my remaining music ambitions. What are they? I’m happy with my church gigs. So long as my parishes exist and I’m capable of driving to services, I’ll continue to do that. I’ll happily continue my gig with The Mendelssohn Club. 

My challenge now is recording and performing in the popular arena. I’ve written about 40 songs, and I want to get them all in the can and out there where a few people can listen to them. I’d like to find a popular venue where I can get paid and perform at least once a week.

Building a new social life will take some time. I’ve got to fill up the time I used to spend with my grandkids on something else. Life will probably surprise me.

The Methodist Schism and Me

The United Methodist Church legislative General Conference recently voted to allow for gay pastors and gay marriage.

The Methodist congregation I serve as a pianist/organist is very traditional and conservative. I’m Catholic. This has never been a problem in my job. I don’t have theological or political discussions in church or during the after service coffee klatch. 

So, my opinion about this change is irrelevant. I do wonder how the change will affect my continued employment and the survival of the Methodist Church. About a third of Methodist congregations have already left the UMC over this schism, many to join a new denomination that rejects the gay agenda, the Global Methodist Church.

I’m not involved in my congregation’s discussions on this issue, so I don’t know whether my client is considering leaving the UMC for the Global faction.

In his sermon on Sunday, my pastor declined to discuss the issues that generated the schism, and instead called for peaceful resolution. He’s already stating his pronouns in the bulletin, an indication of his leanings. So far, nobody’s asked me for my pronouns.

The UMC was already facing a catastrophic decline in Sabbath attendance, and consequent closings of parishes. The Catholic Church is facing the same dilemma. 

I stopped involving myself in person or online in gay issues discussions. While I do have opinions, they are not particularly important to me. I’m a sinner. While I do generally aspire to the Catholic ideal of sacramental marriage, I haven’t done a very good job of living up to that ideal. Who am I, a mere sinner, to scold others?

I’ll continue to play on the Sabbath for my Methodist client, and I’ll keep my mouth shut about their theology and politics. I feel fortunate that my gig has lasted for 5 years. How long my client parish will survive is unknown.

My Yearly Cycle

From Advent through Easter, I’m incredibly busy with church gigs and Mendelssohn Club rehearsals and concerts. After Easter, I’m on full summer vacation, until Labor Day. 

My life is ruled by the Liturgical Cycle.

My only responsibilities during vacation are appearing for my church Sabbath gigs. I’ve been through the repertoire for these gigs many, many times. The hymns are all transcribed into my composition program (MuseScore) and posted into my 12.9” iPad. Occasionally, a congregation member will suggest a new and useful hymn, but that’s becoming a rarity. 

Summer vacation runs for 18 weeks. 

This summer, I plan to start building a commercial and performing outlet for my popular music originals and cover songs. How? Where?

I’m thinking of subscribing to Grok, Elon Musk’s and X’s AI chat bot, for advice on how to create and develop commercial and performing outlets. In other words, business advice on how to effectively reach an audience. I think that an audience for my music and performing exists. Not a huge audience, but one sufficient to fill venues ranging from 100 to 500 seats in major cities and college and resort towns.

Grok is 8 bucks a month. 7 if you pay for an entire year in advance. Grok does not yet, store user sessions in memory. ChatGPT just announced that it will. Seems likely to me that Grok will soon follow suit.

What would be my first question to ask Grok? To be continued…

A Stolen Kiss

An 85 year old church lady in one of my congregations has quite a crush on me. In my first few weeks working for this church, she invited me out to breakfast and, effectively, propositioned me.

“You’re not too old to still have some fun,” she told me. “But, not with me. I’m too old.”

She sat there and waited for me to disagree, but I didn’t.

I shouldn’t have accepted the invitation to breakfast, but I hadn’t thought that 85 year old women might still be horny. Lesson learned. I weaseled my way out of the invitation without any damage, and I thought that was the end of it.

Eve (I’ll call her) has been texting me almost daily for a couple of years. At church, she demands a full body hug during the group meet and greet part of the service.

Last Sunday, Eve arrived early for services and, as usual, marched right up to the piano bench to greet me.

“Give me a hug,” she begged.

I haven’t considered this an unusual request, or one difficult to comply with, so I hugged her.

Eve started to try to kiss me, and much to my surprise landed a wet smooch right on my lips! I hadn’t expected that.

The taste and odor she left behind was unbearable. Dense makeup covering over an odor of intense bodily decay. I’m old, too, so I’m aware that the bodily disintegration of an old person is difficult to tolerate.

The residual taste and odor were so awful that I got up after I played for the opening hymn, and pretended to go to the bathroom to relieve myself. I washed my face and hands and rinsed out my mouth, and I was able to continue to play for the service.

Things have gotten out of hand. Churches are incredibly sensitive to allegations of sexual abuse or unwanted sexual advances by their employees. I cannot afford even the hint of romantic involvement with a church lady in one of my congregations. The churches are terrified of being bankrupted by lawsuits.

I’ll have to be on guard with Eve. That’s the last time she gets close enough to French kiss me. I can’t really complain to the church board or the pastor. That will only rebound against me.

The constant texting is something I probably can’t stop, but I can try to cool it off.

Dealing with the romantic aspirations of the church ladies is the most difficult part of my church musician job. The attention and compliments are appreciated, but if I don’t keep my distance I’ll be out of a job.

My Musical Seasons

My musician life now runs through a three part annual cycle. 

Starting after Labor Day, the Mendelssohn Club begins rehearsals for the Christmas Concert, and my church work focuses on the progression from Advent to Christmas. 

After New Years, the Club starts rehearsals for the Spring Concert, and my church work moves from Lent through Easter.

After the Spring Concert at the end of April, I begin my summer vacation of about 18 weeks, during which I focus on popular music.

This cycle is likely to continue to repeat for the rest of my career.

Finding outlets for my popular music is the weak part of my game. Three more weeks to the end of the spring Mendelssohn Club season and it will be time to try to develop venues and opportunities for popular music.

I don’t know what to do here. I readily admit to being stumped.

Sometimes, action is the only response to being stumped. Once choral rehearsals are over, I’ll head out there to play on whatever stage is available and see what happens.

Four Tunes in the Can

I can’t afford to carry a band. That would mean selling venues on a constant string of gigs so that I could afford to pay musicians regularly. So, my recording session this week featured a backup band that rehearsed once before laying down four tunes in the studio.

Screenshot

Yesterday, I listened to the “roughs,” that is the unmixed, un-FX enhanced versions of the tunes. What do I have? I have basic drum and bass tracks that I will keep. Everything else, vocals, guitar, piano and fiddle… well…

I’ll be returning to the studio in a couple of weeks to re-record my vocal and instrumental tracks. Why? I had to sing and play piano or guitar to direct the band through the structure of the tunes.

Singing and playing an instrument simultaneously in the studio leads to tracks bleeding together, and less than optimal vocal tracks.

I’ll also probably be adding tracks, most likely synth tracks, to solidify melodic themes in the tune.

The final steps will be bringing in a female vocalist for backup vocals, and mixdown.

I’d certainly prefer to take a heavily rehearsed, gig tested band into the studio, but that’s not an option.

Am I Doomed to Job’s Fate?

I’ve been reading the Book of Job. Why? Half a dozen times in my life I’ve been right on the verge of achieving my full ambitions as a musician, and in each instance, some calamity blew everything up. God struck me down.

The worst and most catastrophic was Myrna’s death, just as we had become a powerful musical duo, just as the music business was opening up to us.

I’ve been trying for years to understand this dynamic. Unlike Job, I was not always a faithful servant of God (in fact I became a rebellious hell raiser), nor did I refrain from cursing God when all hell broke loose.

Like Job, however, I’ve always wondered what I have done to displease God, and why he does not relieve me of my suffering. I’m still trying to find my way through this dilemma. Myrna was equally confounded by this. She often said (forgive me for the sin of pride): “Everybody’s waiting for you to be a great man.”

The Old Testament God actually allowed Satan to destroy Job to test his faith. Would he renounce and curse God if his children and servants were slaughtered, his body destroyed with disease, his life reduced to beggary? Job persisted in worshipping God.

I failed that test of faith long ago.

Tomorrow, I’m headed into the recording studio with a band to put down the basic tracks to three original songs: “Granddaddy Ran Bootleg,” “I’m Going Home,” and “Show Me the Way,” and I’ll be recording what I regard as a Hank William’s hymn, “Lost Highway.”

The burden of my past collapses weighs heavily on me. Where to go with these recordings? Why should anybody listen to a nobody, an old man headed toward the grave?

I tell myself that I only want to document to the best of my ability my lifetime of work and struggle, but the old ambitions still live inside me.

You might be surprised to learn that I do expect these recordings to be noticed and to be well received critically. That’s happened repeatedly. And then… the fall.

Will God release me this time from the fate of Job?

Recreational Politics.

Like everybody else, I waste too much time online arguing about politics. Heated discussions! Threats of lawsuits and a good punch in the nose!

I am not going to be a political activist, or a martyr to some cause. Will I vote in the upcoming election? Certainly won’t matter, except maybe in local elections. Federal and NY statewide elections are thoroughly rigged.

My interest in politics is, thus, purely recreational. I’m retired and I can afford to waste a few hours every day bullshitting. I’m for Trump on policy, but outside of the BSing, I’m not going to do anything. This is probably true for a lot of people, because we now live in a retiree dominated society.

Every morning, I say my prayers, thank God for another day (that’s no longer to be taken for granted), and ask him to help me to not waste my time on politics. I’m about as successful with that as a nymphomaniac is at abandoning lust. The temptation to rant about politics is overwhelming.

The online ranting leads one into mysterious traps and blind alleys. I can debate with some crazy for hours, only to finally discover that he’s a joker posing as something he isn’t. Sincerity is in short supply on the inter-webs.

I’m stuck at home this week. My truck is in the body shop, so I don’t have my own vehicle. Could borrow the son-in-law’s SUV, but I’d rather not take the risk. For 6 days, I’m going nowhere. This only increases the temptation to pick up the iPad and look for a fight.

How much yoga and music can I do in a day? My limit is about an hour for yoga and 2 hours for playing music. I’m trying to discipline myself to spend a lot of time reading Thomas Acquinas’ Summa Theologica, but that’s a tough hack.

I will pray again this morning to relieve my mind of the political obsession. Monday was a good day. Tuesday, not so good. God help me!

What is the Purpose of Confession?

After decades of wandering in the desert, I returned to observing the rituals of Catholicism. At first, I only attended Mass, then I decided to brave Confession. Some years later, I still don’t entirely understand the purpose of that ritual,

The Church has renamed the sacrament as “reconciliation.” I’m not sure why or when this change occurred. We confess to reconcile ourselves with God.

When I was young and taking Catechism lessons, the nuns scripted Confession for their students. We learned the form by heart: “Bless me Father, for I have sinned. My last Confession was X time ago.”

The nuns gave us a scorecard for our sins. Venal sins, or lesser sins, were categorized for us. Mortal sins amount, in reality, to breaking one of the Ten Commandments. Both nuns and my priests were quite specific about what constituted a sin. We were given a check off list, so we had no doubt what we needed to confess.

We were especially cautioned against taking Communion when we were in a state of mortal sin. This was, in itself, another mortal sin.

When I was a boy, the priest helped me out in the confessional. He suggested sins to me, and asked if I had committed them, when he was dissatisfied when my recitation.

“Did you touch yourself?” Was a common question.

Confession is the last piece of the puzzle in my return to ritual Catholic observance. I don’t know quite what I should do. I follow the old form, and go through the list of sins I’ve been taught to consider, but that doesn’t seem like enough.

That’s because the sin that really dogs me is betrayal of my father. Here, I often think of the Parable of the Talents. My father invested everything he had in my development, and well… I blew it. Big time. I blew it by ceasing being observant and quitting playing sports.

God gave me incredible gifts, that is talents… musical, athletic and intellectual. All I had to do to fully realize those talents was to remain disciplined and to follow the direction of my father. Instead, I collapsed into indiscipline and carousing, leaving me to wander in the desert for decades.

In doing so I abandoned my father to his fate, which ultimately was dementia. I was not there for him as he was for me. I did not continue my career in baseball for him, so that he could attend the games and bask in the success of his son. I did not understand or acknowledge my reciprocal obligation to care for him, to give him purpose.

At my last Confession, I expressed my grief over this to the priest and he understood. That was a relief.

But, I am still struggling to understand this part of my practice.

Next Great Wave of Tech Transformation… VR/AR

Apple’s Vision Pro VR/AR headset started shipping a few days ago. This is a landmark in technology development. With Apple fully committed, VR/AR will move out of the venture capital development phase and gaming apps into dramatically changing the world.

Instapundit’s commentariat responded to the news with a classic outburst of old fart grumpiness. Who needs this newfangled crap? The kids are going to disappear into a fantasy world! The State will control your mind!

I’m 74, so I remember well the public response to the mass introduction of computers into our lives, followed by market saturation of PCs and iMacs. Back in the 1960s and 70s, the gloom and doomers predicted a catastrophe. 

“You’ll become nothing but a number! A cipher! Your personality will be consumed by the evil machine! Who needs to have this demon machine in their homes?”

That was the message in every liberal arts class while I was in college, and a steady stream of gloom and doom books prophesying various forms of dystopias flooded the market.

I bought into this stupidity, and I’m very sorry that I did. Buying into it delayed my full embrace of computerization for years, depriving me of income and personal power. PCs and iMacs transformed the music world completely. I now have a 16 track recording studio in my home that costs less than $1,000. Back in the 1960s, such a studio would have cost millions.

Every home now features multiple PCs and computerized devices. Every aspect of our lives has changed as a result.

No, I won’t make the same mistake of underestimating the power and potential of this emerging VR/AR tech. The Vision Pro is too expensive, big and clunky. That will change in a few years. We don’t yet know what the full spectrum functionality of VR/AR will be. If you think it’s just about gaming, you’re wrong. I won’t be able to afford these first generation devices, so I’ll have to wait until the price craters.

Combine this emerging VR/AR tech with the lifespan extending tech that will start to emerge in full force within 5 to 10 years, and I’m looking at a very exciting future. I won’t predict what course that future will take.