Blatherings

So I was supposed to have the draft of the first song for our Zoom musical for theatre camp done on Friday. As of Friday, I had two lines. As of Saturday, I had three lines, and I wasn't sold on the third line. I finally got the lead-in and the first verses posted to the share on Sunday. I'd feel worse about this, but it is now done, I like it, and I finally figured out why I wasn't making any progress.

Waaaay back in 2014 when I was doing the Insane Writing Project, I would usually mock up the day's effort in prose (a sentence or two per stanza) and then translate it to verse and enjoy the alchemy of restraint, which occurs when you come across an absolutely magnificent rhyme or a yummy synonym that transforms the piece into something surprising. But what allows that is having set a course to begin with. If you're not on a clear path, there's no way you can know when to step off it.

So why, I ask myself, did I think I could just come up with a song with a dramatic purpose and motivation without bothering to write out what was supposed to be at the core of the song? Because I was a silly, silly past-me, that's why. So on Sunday, I sat down and wrote the core of not just the song, but the purpose of the whole freaking musical. I tightened it as much as I could and tried to make every sentence carry a lot of weight. And lo and behold: the lyrics decided to be a rection to the core statement, along with direction and development. Boom.

The group is meeting tomorrow night, and I'm so pleased I managed to fulfill what I promised to do. And I am looking forward to getting the kids involved, though I don't know how active I'm going to be able to be since I suspect most camp activities are going to be during the workday when I'm, y'know, working. Though working from home does allow me a bit more flexibility than I used to have. We shall see!

Let's see. A fair amount is going on this week. Tomorrow begins my first big in-depth training on the new [university] systems. I've taken several introductory courses that ranged from helpful to useless, so hopefully the in-depth training will be more consistently effective. Tonight, RV has called a section leader meeting for to go over this weekend's Pentecost musical offerings and also to touch on what's happening after this week. According to the schedule, Heavenly Choir will be on summer hiatus after this weekend. However, since we're doing virtual church until the diocese puts forth safety guidelines for in-person worship, I don't know if there's going to be any desire to keep having the section leaders continue chanting bits and/or leading hymns. If so, I'm happy to help. If not, I will enjoy having a bit more time to work on other stuff. Such as the four varied and incipient projects ProChoir surveyed us about. I can do all of them, but I'm sure we'll be divvied up by project, and I'm curious which, if any, I'll be called upon to do. They all have their attractions, and mostly, it'll just be wonderful to do make more music happen and have more cool stuff to share.

And speaking of music, our household desktop comptuer has two functioning speakers for the first time since... ? Let's just say the old speakers were attached to the computer Mr. 42 had at university. They both worked for a good long while, but one of them has been nonfunctional for pretty much the whole time I've been working from home, and unfortunately, they run in serial, and it's the one with the power input that that doesn't work, and it makes this deeply annoying low-grade buzzing sound. It is SO NICE to have stereo again and to have banished the buzzing! I've been listening to Bach and Handel by some of my favorite interpreters, and it's just wonderful. So thank you, Logitech, for making exactly what I needed. Also for the built-in headphone jack so I don't have to pull the CPU out of its nook to access the audio output on the back every time I switch to headphones. Squee!

And now, the story of today's walkies in case you are under the impression that my life is all about successfully being creative and finding ways to make music. We ran out of dog food last week, so I emergency-bought dog food and treats at Local Pet Store, BUT I forgot to restock on poo bags. So this weekend, we ran out of those. Thankfully, we retain poo-appropriate plastic bags from produce and other food items, so we have enough to hold us over until the fancy biodegradable bags Mr. 42 ordered arrive. However, I forgot to bring one on mid-day walkies, and I found myself watching Clara doing her business and realizing I had no bag for it. Thankfully, Clara's chosen spot was right at the edge of our condo complex, which borders a vacant lot beneath high-tension power lines. I lpoked around in the nearby bushes and managed to find a broken piece of board and a sturdy stick, so I used the stick to roll the poo on to the board and fling it over the bushes into the vacant lot. It took three flings of varying vigor, but I did manage to get it all somewhere that nobody should step in it (it's fenced off on all sides but ours, where it is hedged off). I then hurried the dogs to the other side of the complex where there's a poo bag dispenser to stock up in case Hildy felt compelled to make an offering of her own, but there turned out to be no need. At least now I have a bag already tied to the leash handle for evening walkies!

And in silly things that solarwind sent me, here is Leo, a Canterbury Cathedral cat, disappearing under the Dean's cassock during a recording of morning prayers. And here are some astoundingly bad (and rude-looking) logos that have been made less so by a graphic designer.

And one last bit of wonderful news: if America's Got Talent is a thing you can tolerate, I advise you to watch tonight's season premiere, as an organization I love and support, Voices of Our City Choir, will be appearing. VoOCC's singers are unsheltered folks living in San Diego, and they (until COVID-19) meet weekly for lunch and rehearsal. Through singing, community, and connecting homeless singers with available resources, VoOCC has helped get dozens of folks get off the streets and into housing, and they are amazing. This is the biggest stage they've ever been on (and they sang with the San Diego Symphony last summer!), and they're also doing a membership drive right now, so I threw some bucks their way. I'm so proud of them and hope they do well!

Right. 30 more minutes of answering work emails and then possibly moving books around and keeping the doggos from barking out the window until it's time for evening walkies.

Smooches to All!

Mun42

There are many people in the world who are intimidated by Shakespeare, namely his archaic language and inestimable impact on literature and the English language. To those, I gleefully point to King John and say, "See? Even Shakespeare had bad days!"

I started reading the play on the plane to San Francisco and was dismayed by my inability to grasp the characters and why things were happening. I mean, this is the King John who was the wicked Prince John from Robin Hood and the king who was convinced to sign the Magna Carta in 1215, yet neither story appears in the play, despite being known popularly in Shakespeare's time. Somewhere in the middle of act 2, I conceded temporary defeat and started to read the preface to the play, which I usually avoid doing until after I finish so as not to spoil the ending. You know that a play that Norton describes as promising "more coherence than it delivers" has some serious issues.

Since King John proved to be such bad plane reading, I picked up what looked to be an entertaining read for the flight home, "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" (reviewed here). The imperfect execution of the rather brilliant conceit really made me wonder if I could pull off a version of something where the zombies actually solve the problems of the text rather than cause more. And what play could be a better candidate for improvement through judicious application of the undead than King John? Thus, I humbly present:

( The_Life_and_Undeath_of_King_John )

There's no iambic pentameter until the very end, but it's a start :D

Happy weekends to all,

Mun42

Because someone had to.

And I'm feeling no shortage of self-mockery, (ETA) despite the fact that I have not yet signed up for another exchange. I think it may be was only a matter of time.

But mostly because pokeystar sent me an evil filk bunny. That's how all the trouble starts.

I humbly present:

The Exchange Writer's Lament
Sung to the tune of “Cain’t Say No” from Oklahoma.
With mostly proper grammar and a classical allusion because we are writers, after all. :D

It’s not so much a question of not knowing what to write-
My restless muse sometimes needs to be stomped.
I read a lot of stories and Athenean fires burn bright,
Especially when I see a juicy prompt.
To play, I know a lot of time’s required.
But when the sign-ups open, I’m inspired!

I’m just a scribe who can’t say no.
You’ll recognize my whine.
I will enroll at the get-go,
Just when I ought to decline.

When my favorite gift exchange starts up,
I know I ought to focus on my piece.
But then someone starts a Fuh-Q-Fest,
My narrative assignments will increase.

I’m not forgetting what I owe,
I’m just a person of range
Who’s fond of pairings strange
Tempted by every exchange
I can’t say no!

What am I to do when they tempt me with Lucius?
Am I Confucius? What am I to do?
I don’t want to be a writer bitter as tansy,
Not writing Ron/Pansy. What am I to do?
And now that I’ve a hankering for stories with Snape
Where he’s got to have Luna or die,
What am I to do with the Snuna Exchange?
Sit idly by?

I’m just a scribe who can’t say no.
Plot bunnies always in mind.
Constantly craving that warm glow
When my new prompts are assigned.

For a while I write with focused force
And bang out several thousand words anon.
But then halfway through I feel remorse
And want to start anew another one!

I can’t resist a neat tableaux.
Abstinence? Never! I can’t!
Extensions! I beg you, please grant!
Please be my Agony Aunt?
I can’t say no!

I just left the following on my parents' answering machine, with Mr. 42 accompaning on clarinet:

A Letter on Mother's Day
With thanks to Alan Sherman

Hello Muddah! It’s your daughder.
I ain’t calling ‘cause I oughter.
I ain’t got no pretty flowers,
But I wrote-a lovely dance dat’s of the hours.

Since today is for da mudders,
Hope dat sister and my bruddah
Are behaving like two winners
And that they’re preventing you from cooking dinner.

Dank you ma!
You really raised us good, dear ma!
You gave us more dan any could,
Instilling in us love of arts and four voice parts.

Dank you ma!
Your moral lessons really sticks!
So now you got two girls in arts, dear ma, and eldest son,
Who’s now in politics.

Oh my muddah- she’s da bestest
Even kind when she is stressedest!
Even when I’m quite a stinker,
She keeps up her dignity as a head shrinker.

Dearest Muddah, here’s my thankings
For the huggings and the spankings
Since we ain’t all in the slammer
And da way yous always made us learn our grammar!

I can just hear my mom's response: "For this we paid for nine years of voice lessons?"