Dining alone is an interesting experience. Everyone should do it every now and then--intentionally--just to mix things up a bit. Until you do, you never realize how much of the world you miss around you. Having the chance to just soak up even the little things around you can make a world of difference in your outlook. Besides, you're kind of forced to entertain yourself and what better way to do that, than to watch other people. (hee hee)
It's Memorial Day weekend so no work on Monday (thank GAWD!!!). As a result, my weekend's been consumed with cleaning, playing music, more cleaning, rummaging through junk, playing more music, doing laundry, etc. etc. But, I can honestly say that this is the first weekend in a long, LONG while that I actually feel a little rested and I can also honestly say that I can't believe one person can accumulate so much crap! sigh...but I digress...
Suffering from a serious case of cabin fever, I decide to go out for dinner. Picante on Sixth St. in Berkeley has been calling my name for the past week. A quick 7 miles and 10 minutes later, there I am, standing in line of the cute little cocina mexicana place perusing the menu, scanning for anything that says carne asada (mmmm...). I make my selection and await anxiously for my turn to order. I grab my number, walk to the dining area and find a table.
Over the course of my meal, I learned a couple--although at first glance, seemingly unrelated--things:
First, I never realized how many families there are in Berkeley. Let me rephrase...I never realized how many little kids there are in Berkeley. Oh wait, let me refine that...how many families have 2-5 year olds in Berkeley. They're *everywhere*! I even counted the number of kids per table and came up with approximately 2.3 (see "entertain myself" comment above). No joke. Don't get me wrong, I *love* kids, but, man, that place was looking like a Wiggles concert in a Gymboree store. The place is packed and the only two tables left are, of course, the ones that accommodate only two people and are sitting right next to the station where the cleanup folks dispose of unfinished enchiladas and taco crumbs that didn't quite make it and pile up all the dirty dishes to bring to the back...but that's ok. I'll just use my arm as a shield while I eat. Besides, I'm too distracted at the 2.3 average that's now grown even within the last 5 minutes. But, seriously, I'm not complaining. The point of the observation is that it was comforting to see families making an effort to be together, especially in this day and age where both parents are working and the weekends seem to be the only opportunities for good, ol' fashion quality time. Nice. :-)
I finish my meal and head out the door. Which leads me to my second observation--it's amazing to me how drastic an environment can change simply by walking through a door. On my way in earlier, a homeless man is standing outside of the restaurant. Tattered clothes, worn shoes, etc. Despite his situation, he quietly greets me with a rather pleasant disposition, holding up an old, worn issue of "Street Spirit" and asking if I could help him out on my way back out. Let me pause for a moment...
Street Spirit's website (http://www.thestreetspirit.org/) describes it as this:
"Street Spirit is a publication of the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC) that reports extensively on homelessness, poverty, economic inequality, welfare issues, human rights issues and the struggle for social justice. For the past 10 years, Street Spirit has been dedicated to empowering poor and homeless people and giving a voice to the voiceless, at a time when the voices of the poor are virtually locked out of the mainstream media."
Basically, it's a newsletter for the homeless community. sold for $1. For years, I've always seen folks standing on the corner all over the Bay Area selling issues, but never once stopped and showed interest because I was distracted by my own "problems" while I rushed off to the next thing. So back to Picante...
I'm walking out, and he's still there, holding up the same issue of Street Spirit, asking passersby if they'd like to buy his issue. Yet again, my reflex is to politely rush by mumbling, "No thanks" and be on my way. But tonight was different. He doesn't ask me again, but instead just smiles so I stop. I ask for a copy, and hand him a dollar. Embarrassed by the condition of his paper, he warns me that it's an old and worn one and asks if it's ok. I say yes but then realize it's his only copy left. So I tell him to keep it and the dollar so he'll still have something to sell. He thanks me sincerely and says, "I'll give you a fresh copy the next time I see you, I will, I really will!" I'm thinking to myself, "Sure, but at least it was nice to say,"and say ok anyway.
Moments later, as I'm walking down the street back toward my car, I hear him yelling, "Hey! Hey! Lady, hey! I got one for you! I got one for you!" I turn and there he is, running/gimping down the street chasing after me with a fresh copy from a fresh batch that his supplier just gave him in one hand and a dooby in the other (hee hee). He catches up to me and says, out of breath, "I have one for you and wanted to make sure you got a fresh one, just like I promised. Here...(gasp gasp) you go (gasp gasp)." I don't think he had to do that, but he did.
What ended up initially being a quick, quiet dinner just to get me out of the house turned into a realization that no matter who you are, taking time out for people can really mean a lot. Whether you're a 3 year old from a seemingly well-to-do family playing with your burrito while your parents watch on, a homeless person who made a sale with just a humble smile, or a person being chased after in an effort to fulfill a simple promise---it ALL counts.
Ok, so it may see like I'm over-reacting to such simple, everyday events. And no, I'm won't be buying *every* issue of Street Spirit offered to me and talking to every stranger I meet. But it is a reminder to myself to make that effort to smile and look at someone even if to say, "No, thank you" regardless of what age, social background, etc. from which they come. We're all the same so share the love, share the love...
(Man, what'd they put in my sandwich?!?)
Whoa...two posts in one night.
This'll be short, but it's just in response to comments from a recent blog. Quick recap: did a demo and finalized those tracks Monday night. Personnel includes: Greg Sankovich (piano), Kurt Ribak (upright bass), Matt Willis (drums), Bill Bentley (engineer and guitar solo). oh, and me on vocals. :-)
One is Curtis Mayfield's 'People Get Ready' and the other is Hoagy Carmichael's "Nearness of You". We also did Don't Get Around Much Anymore and Girl From Ipanema, but I'll save those for another time.
Enjoy!
What are those exactly?
Dictionary.com led me to a variety of definitions for the adjective form of "kindred": associated by origin, nature, qualities; having the same belief, attitude, or feeling; related by birth or descent; having kinship; belonging to kin or relatives, etc....
As a management consultant for our internal consulting group, I get to work with a variety of people within a huge healthcare organization. Everything from nurses to doctors, to senior executives to marketing people to regulators to union reps--you name it. It just depends on the project. My current project is interesting--to say the least. But "interesting" in the same way my mom always told me to never call anything ugly---just say it's "interesting". Oh, mom. J
It's more like stressful, crazy, frustrating, [insert usual moan & groan complaint]....but this one's pretty, uh, "special". But maybe what makes it seems a bit more "special" than usual is because it's a completely different group--in every sense: content, people, environment, culture, workstyle, etc. *and* it has this really interesting mix of people (i.e., demographically, interpersonally, etc.).
Everyday, on my way home from work, I like to take a few moments to decompress and just reflect on the day. It helps keep perspective (and sanity). Today's workday was very long, as has been the past few days, even weeks. I've been working closely with this new department so tonight's thoughts wandered towards certain relationships I have with a few people in the group. For the most part, I get along (at least I think I do) with everyone in the group (knock on wood). But a few folks really stand out and not in a way that's the usual "play nice with your clients" kind of way, but more of a non-pickup-line "Hey, I know you from someplace before?" kind of way.
One of them is with a pretty high-up leader guy who's probably about 20 years my senior who I just completely adore as a little brother while respecting as an older one at the same time; the other is with a woman who despite having moved to another group within the company, we still work with and has just such a calming, strangely familiar and comforting spirit; and another one is with a woman who is a straight-up, no-nonsense, but gentle and (as my manager so accurately put it) has "an old, wise soul".
It just made me then wonder about all the other people in my life and how/why there's a deeper, instantaneous connection with some more than others. My Christian faith grounds me by believing that everything happens for a reason—people come into and go out of your life for a reason, seemingly random events occur for a reason…
But sometimes, too, I like to toy around with the idea that God isn't wasteful so my silly, spiraling logic then runs this way: when a person is born, they're given a spirit and soul. When they die, the spirit goes back to God and the soul, well, it goes whichever way that free-will life dictates. So then I think, "Well, if heaven and hell has souls running around in it, are the spirits just chillin' out in some lounge having an afterwork drink saying, "Good job, Joe. Boss is gonna like that one"? I mean, where do *they* go? They gotta go somewhere right?
Hmm…reincarnation?
Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know if I really believe in reincarnation, much less know much about it to have an opinion. The idea of it seems present in a lot of "belief systems", but each calling it it's own thing. It's all semantics really and I'm not really looking to categorize it or even find a solution--it's just a thought to help pass the time. But it does make me think: Are these people kindred spirits? Have we met sometime before and are just now reconnecting? or are these people who just share common interests; who just can sympathize with the stress we're all undergoing with this crazy project?
Who knows. But at least it made the train ride home pass more quickly. J
"Love of life! Love of life!"
That's what the RA (resident advisor) of my freshman dorm in college used to run around saying. Ah, Gabe...who would've ever guessed that your three simple words could be so profound. :)
I just got back from a studio session for my demo. I'm trying to pull together a really nice, solid, demo of jazz standards so I can get out there and gig more instead of having the infrequent (but fun!) shows and needing to "start from scratch" every time. On my drive home, I was thinking about how fortunate and blessed I am to know and have friends that are such extremely talented and supportive musicians---a combination that can sometimes prove to be rather difficult to find.
Tonight, the session included Kurt Ribak on upright bass, Greg Sankovich on keys and Matt Willis on drums with Bill Bentley behind the sound board. I prepared for 6 tunes (aggressive for a 3-hour session, but went in with the expectation doing 3) and quite pleasantly nailed down four. We did Don't Get Around Much Anymore (swing), Nearness of You (slow ballad), Girl from Ipanema (bossa) and People Get Ready (slow rock/soul)--a nice mix of rhythms, I think, for a demo. (ok, so People Get Ready isn't exactly a jazz standard, but c'mon now, gotta give props to Curtis. After Kurt suggested it, I had to get it in there especially with these guys in the studio together. hee hee) They are truly truly a gifted bunch and not only are they extremely talented, but on top of that, they're just some of the nicest, easygoing guys you'd *ever* meet. period.
During the whole session, I'm standing back and listening to them play and just feeling this wonderful sense of calm--a more than welcomed contrast to my "day job" life in the corporate world. As I'm singing through the tunes, it's like a blanket of tranquility dropped itself on my head and said, "Hey! The work's gonna be there tomorrow. Quit yer worrying. It's *this* stuff that's what life's all about!"
I can't seem to ever be able to explain it, but whether you're playing solo or with others, there's just something about music that can sometimes find it's way to a "groove" (and you just *know* when you're there) and you feel this sudden, heightened burst of eurphoria like no other that it's as if nothing else in the world matters for just that quick instance. And to be able to remain suspended in that state, even for just a few moments more, would be like a gift from God. I don't know what it is, but for some reason music is so very capable of tapping into that part of your soul that nothing else can ever reach. It makes you wanna play music even more with the hopes that other people can experience that, too.
But alas, nothing that good lasts forever. I finally get home and reality hits as I enter my oh-so-neglected apartment with its piles and piles of laundry (albeit all clean), papers and half-baked "quick weekend projects" strewn all over the floor that you'd think you just stepped into an abandoned refugee camp. Ah well...love of life!
