So I'm riding on the Richmond BART line tonight (around 6:20p), heading home from work (Oakland) and we roll up to MacArthur station. It's a big transfer point, so hella people are getting on and off....on and off...on..and off...I've only been on for one station but it's crowded. I've been sitting all day, but don't quite feeling like balancing my azz the whole way home so am hoping/praying someone gets off so I can snag they seat. (ghetto, I know).
A woman gets on and wheels in her bike (from North Face) which, at that point, ends up taking up a good part of the doorway. She was very courteous and polite which is always cool, but I'm looking at her and she has an old Oscar the Grouch green sweater on (over two layers of white T's), worn-in jeans, and some, uh, very used cross trainers. Her hair is blonde and braided down both sides, but frayed every which way, probably cuz she's been husslin' all over town in the fog on her North Face bike. No makeup and lots of bags (looks like she's been out shopping) hanging on anything it can hang on to.
My question is: is it bad for me to blame her for the sudden smell of patchouli and guess that she's getting off at Ashby so she can bike over to Berkeley Bowl to pick up some soy pasta, summer squash and organic lentils? Or what about the dude in the black suit, with gold twist cufflinks and grey knit scarf that's so fashionably thrown around his neck, who's holding the matching Coach briefcase and trying to catch up on his Economist subscription? I'd almost bet the last 60 cents on my BART ticket that he's getting out at El Cerrito Plaza or del Norte at the farthest cuz you know his BMW wouldn't last the whole day unscarred in the lot at the *end* of the line--he'd at least have a 60% chance at one of the El Cerrito stations.
I know...it's bad. It perpetuates people stereotyping and all that other bad stuff we can't seem to quit doing---but come on, you know you do it. I mean, how else would we know when to pack up our junk so we can shift over in time to let someone out from a window seat? :-)
Last weekend, one of my old college roommates came up from San Diego for a quick visit. His name is Chris and it's always a hoot (did I just say "hoot"??) when he visits. He's an artist and teaches down in SD so I'm always learning new things about art, culture, anything! from him. But what's also cool is that he loves music just as much as I do so we're always trading info back and forth--tunes that are "new" (used loosely) to us, artists we think the other might like, etc.
We were on our way back from Santa Cruz late Friday night after watching Ozomatli (Crown City Rockers opened) at the Catalyst (pause: if you *ever* have the chance to watch these guys live, try and do it. They so rock! ok, unpause) and randomly started talking about Top 10 "Best of" compilations. You know the ones: So and So's Greatest Hits, or The Best of Whatchamahoohoo...you might have even heard of WhosTheGroup: The Essentials.
We just got the list going before the late drive, the rain and the bad driving directions from Yahoo! de-railed our attention. So, I thought I'd finish it off. Of course, it'll probably change tomorrow and I can only list what I personally have so I'm sure his list would be a bit different. In any case, here goes:
10. Best of ABBA (Umm, hello?? Can't you hear the drums, Fernando?)
9. Betty's Diner: The Best of Carrie Newcomer
8. Easy Rock (don't laugh...it's one of my many guilty pleasures) (tied with The Doobie Brothers: Best of the Doobies)
7. Anthology: Jackson 5
6. Earth, Wind and Fire: Greatest Hits
5. Rock 'N' Soul, Pt. 1: Greatest Hits (Hall & Oates)
4. Jimi Hendrix: The Jimi Hendrix Collection
3. Immaculate Collection: Madonna (tied with Prince's Greatest Hits--or Purple Rain, which technically doesn't count as a Best of compilation--or does it??)
2. Antonio Carlos Jobim Songbook (a *must have* for any collection!)
and for number one.....
1. Stevie Wonder: The Definitive Collection (with Ribbon in the Sky, thrown in)
Ok, ok...so I made some minor exceptions here and there, but as of today, anyway that's my list. Chris (and anyone else who happens to come across this), lemme know what you think. Keep an eye out for my Top 10 movie Soundtracks....I already started compiling the list on my BART ride home the other day. hmmm......
Tonight I saw the movie "The Bridge". It's a documentary film on the Golden Gate Bridge and despite the focus of the film being on the numerous attempted (and some successful) suicides that occurred on the bridge during 2004, it really seems to be more of a piece on diseases such as depression, mental illness, etc. Being in the Bay Area, you almost feel like you have to watch it. Although it sounds callous, it didn't seem as disturbing as I anticipated (maybe I built it up too much?) while I was watching the movie. But, just like the fog, the after-effects are like creepers---it takes a while to process and then the disturbance seeps in. The images were hard to believe that such a thing was actual footage--or was it? I still can't decide, but also can't see how it couldn't. I was a little hesitant when deciding on whether to watch the film or not because of the nature of the topic---but in retro, I think it was more out of fear that I'd see someone I knew. It sounds odd, but the reality of it is that the Bay Area really isn't that big so you just never know....
Do you ever second guess a moment of what seems like randomness as something fate's thrown at you in a way that's just quicker than usual?
Earlier this year, I was searching for a piano tuner. I googled "piano" "tuner" "east bay" etc. and for some crazy reason, one of the results that popped up was a reference to a Music Teacher's Association of California (MTAC) site. In a split second, it all rushed backed to me....the lessons, recitals, competitions, the annual evaluations (which, to this day, I still get tense from every mid-February to mid-March), conventions, long nights of memorizing music until I was convinced that "my fingers just knew where to go." I noticed a familiar name and took a chance and emailed him--and it paid off! I ended up reconnecting with someone who, basically 15 years prior, was in the same recitals, competitions, annual evaluations, etc. Man, how time flies. I mean, what a coincidence, eh?! Not really...
I studied classical piano (formally)from the age of 5 to the age of 18 through the MTAC. My teacher was Loida Tirtawinata--the *entire* time. It's actually quite rare, from what I've seen, to have a child stick with the same exact teacher for 13 years--STRAIGHT. But she was more than just my piano teacher--she was family. Every Monday, for 30 minutes; then when I got older, it was every Thursday for 45 minutes, and then finally every Wed for 60-75 minutes (with extra lessons per week before competition and evaluation) from kindergarten to college--practically my entire childhood. She was tough, but she was good. Her students always shined---but it came with a price. Discipline, focus and more discipline was all I ever knew.
"Mrs. Tirtawinata, how come I can't play jazz? All my friends are learning pop tunes?"
"No no no. You must first learn the foundation. Once you get *this* down, you can play anything you want...you'll see."
My senior year in high school came around and if it wasn't one thing, it was another....studying, applying to colleges, playing volleyball, playing badminton, piano lessons getting longer and longer and more frequent during the week, part-time job to pay for prom and buy my yearbook and that ticket for the senior ski trip. Oh the stress! (shyah, if only *now* I could trade for those to be the worst of my worries). Mrs. Tirtawinata wanted me to learn Rhapsody in Blue so I could audition for Youth Day and play with the Vallejo Symphony that year. Sure, it sounded cool, but I couldn't get past page 32 of the score w/o the music in front of me and a whole lot of hand holding. It was already November and I needed to be completely ready by April/May. There was no way---I cracked. But I also let my teacher down.
As a student, you tend to forget that when you choose to stop mid-way through a project, it also affects your teacher. I always felt bad about that and actually pretty shameful for a long while. I knew she was pretty disappointed, and wasn't quite sure how to fix it. I ended up getting into college down in southern California and moved away that following September. My last lesson after I made the decision to just stop, I remember walking out of her house and feeling so bad that things just completely fizzled after all those long hours of practicing and lessons, etc.
When I moved back to the Bay Area about 5 years later, I thought about getting back in touch with her, but still felt pretty bad. I felt like I didn't have anything to show for what I had given up so stayed quiet. I moved back down to southern California again and came back 2 years later and finally decided to try and contact her again. But I when I got back, I learned that she had moved to LA to be closer to her son. I lost my chance....until earlier this year when I reconnected with Andrew while I was obliviously "looking for a piano tuner". Still yet, I didn't get in touch.
Last night, I came home and found a message on my machine. Andrew called to tell me Mrs. Tirtawinata had passed away last Tuesday, just a couple days before Thanksgiving. Even though I hadn't kept in touch as much (if at all) after I left for college, my heart still sank. Why did I ever hesitate to contact her? She was like my auntie while I was growing up. Her advice and support while I was growing up went far beyond learning a major scale or training my ear to hear different triads. She was there when I couldn't get through a lesson and just needed an ear to talk to about the stress of trying to get into college. She was there to lend stories and life experiences when I needed encouragement. She was there to keep me focused on the task at hand and instill the value of discipline so I could experience the reward of what hard work produced. I wanted to tell her, "Mrs. Tirtawinata, look! I'm still playing the piano!" or "Mrs. Tirtawinata, look at how much music is a part of my life that I couldn't even imagine it without it!" "Mrs. Tirtawinata, look at how much influence you've had on my life." The saddest thing of it all is that she went through life never knowing how much her life had an impact on mine and, I'm sure, many others.
I'm not sure why I'm writing all of this--maybe it's because I regret not telling her all these things. But, maybe moreso, I guess it's almost like paying my last respects and just trying to find an outlet to honor her life and her imprint on the world. I wish I could've said it earlier when it could've meant more to her, but thank you, Mrs. Tirtawinata for introducing me to a life of making, sharing and loving music. May your legacy continue through me and the many other students you've taught throughout your life. Thank you....
