More Than A Feeling - A Memoir

I have lived in many places throughout my nearly fifty years. 13 to be exact to include six moves
before the age of 7. I've lived in Indiana, in Chicago 

where I remembered the field trips were most memorable and the time when it snowed in the desert in the middle of nowhere in El Paso Texas. Out of all thirteen locations, one remains the most
memorable. I visited that place today.

    I am fortunate that it is a place not too far away, 60 minutes is all.  I can visit often and have quite a bit but have never written of it. It had been raining on and off all that week but I was glad that it was a sunny day. It was also warm outside and I watched the country scenery quickly pass as we rode along.

    I think maybe the reason this place is so significant to me is because it is a great place to be if you are a musician. Back in the day, I made a lot of music on a very regular basis here. Even more significantly and most importantly, I heard a lot of  music here. Music that I associate with many past memories. I can pretty much say that in a lot of ways I am who I am today because of this place.

    When I arrived, there was really only one word to describe the whole reason for my visit, and that is - JUNK! And the older and more nostalgic, the better! I knew just the place.

     It was wall to wall, floor to ceiling, indoors and outdoors  as we made our way through the many tunnels. It was a sea of vintage lamps, record albums, old Watchman TV's, musical instruments, board games, furniture and clowns. There was even an area we could not get to because there was no pathway that had yet been established.

     In wanted my experience to be comparable to a good slow meal that I did not want to miss any part of. One small bite at a time savoring every single one. I opened cases and shook boxes before I opened them, I moved things around, lifted and looked under things. I didn't want to miss a thing. But what was really great was the music that was playing. Three songs in particular that I heard as I sifted through my treasures.

     REM

     It was all everyone ever talked about. It was here where it all started. One of the worlds most well bands came from this very place.....and...it was all anyone ever talked about. Everywhere we went, we heard their songs. Ok I get it. Until something happened one night. It had been a long week of exams, classes and performances. I needed a night out with friends. It was perfect. We walked the streets under the stars, waved to people we knew and did whatever we could to try to get the attention of those we wanted to meet.

      We walked until we found our spot at a well known club and settled in. After I had a beer I began to relax a bit. Now, I have been known to be bold at times. There was the time when I was a kid when I played the star spangled banner on the kazoo at the start of a talent show at a family reunion. Then another time, there was the very public temper tantrum at the bowling ally after to many gutter balls which led to a necessary trip to the parking lot.

     Then, I saw him. There he was. The man who was the lead vocalist in a band that released 15 albums, made numerous appearances on television and film and sang with monsters on Sesame Street. He was standing at the bar and I had decided I was not going to let the moment pass.  Once again, boldly, I walked over to him. And, well, I could tell he had not bathed in a while and he was a bit scruffy. "Are you Michael Stipe?" I asked him. He made eye contact with me and replied with a slow nod. I then asked "Did you once take a class with a Dr. Lewis Neilson?" I thought my efforts would some how open the doors for conversation. "No." he replied. And that was all. I returned to my friend and in humility asked :"Sally, can we please go now?"   

     Today, as I continued to browse through my gold mine, I realized that where I was standing was only a few blocks away from where this happened.

Boston

      When I first moved to this place, I didn't like it much. It was a big place, I had gotten lost a few times, I got an F on my first term paper (not just an F but an F-) and worst off, I was homeless. I slept in a study lounge my first few weeks here. Music was what got me through this time. However, once I got settled in and found a place to live, I was often the one resident who received the knock on the door to turn the music down.

     One morning, I woke to the surprise of snowfall outside which is a rarity here. Classes were cancelled that day and we were advised to stay home. Most knockers who were bothered by my music took advantage of the situation and left to get drunk.

      When I listen to music, I listen. I don't wash dished while it plays, its not playing in the background just going to waste. I listen and I hear everything. When I listen to it, I do nothing else and I hold this time to be sacred. I don't listen to the same song over and over again until I don't want to hear it anymore. I listen to many songs and keep them with me for a time. One of my favorite bands that I listened to often at the time was Boston whom I had recently discovered.

      Later that day, my drunken neighbors returned sick and hungover in the middle of the afternoon. I left and ate veggie lasagna and chocolate cake and then had a snowball fight with my friends. It was a great day!



Led Zeppelin

I was dressed in black and my audience and grand piano were waiting. I had been preparing for weeks. I had big hair at the time and the music by Mozart I played that night made me smile and I was free. All I remember was that I was in another world. It was exactly how I wanted it to be. I learned that night that if you love the music you play it will be easy. But sadly it would be for the last time. I would soon say goodbye.

       The last year I was here, I lived by myself. I didn't have to worry about bothering anyone.
No more fire drills in the middle of the night (where some were not actually drills), broken elevators, wild parties, and meetings that turned into gripe sessions. I had a black velvet bed spread, my own rocking chair, my own television and a black and gold clock that I bought at Service Merchandise. It was a small studio apartment that I called my own. I started drinking coffee that year. I cooked in my own kitchen but I was close enough to the dining hall that I could walk.
  (recital)

        Though I had high school friends that talked about Led Zeppelin and made great effort to try to play Stairway to Heaven on the guitar, it wasn't until this particular time in my life that I had made the discovery. I was so into them I bought the entire box set and listened to them on a daily basis. The day of my final recital I had a total of four performances: Jury's for my professors, accompaniment for a vocalist, and a band concert at the end of the day. That night when I got home, I listened hard.


        There have been many studies on the effects of background music while shopping. I am musically minded most of the time so any music in the background with have a very strong impact on me. However, the impact of  the background music today was unusually profound. I didn't break the bank today but what I experienced was priceless. Though I would have loved a vintage clarinet or a retro Danish Modern loveseat, school is now out and my funds need to be saved for future travels. I did come away with a small hand painted ocarina most likely from Peru, and a dazzling little piano. My third item was a napkin holder with a manufacture date of 1992...the year my short stay here would come to an end.

Place visited: Vic's Vintage, Athens, Georgia
Date visited: June 2nd, 2018

Vic's Vintage is unique and different from any other flea market I have ever been. It started as a collection of items gathered from all over the world from his travels and developed into a thriving business which started in 2011. 


Songs:
"The End of the World"- REM
"Foreplay-Long Time"- Boston
"Rock and Roll"- Led Zeppelin 


My encounter with Michael Stipe took place at The Globe which is a well know tavern in Athens, GA.


                                                    "Rock and Roll"- Led Zeppelin

                            

The Black Screen

  My excitement was gushing. It was a road trip different than the others. Not that of tourism but rather of business. Along the way, my glimpse of Appalachia included some terrifying overpasses some of which me and a 1000 foot cliff was separated with nothing more than a what looked flimsy metal guardrail in between. I'm not afraid of heights but in the days ahead, there was already reason for anxiety.
 
  Some of the more calming scenes included country mountain homes, some of which were even log cabins nestled among the hills and cliffs. In my imagination I could hear fiddles and the dulcimers that went along with the scene.

  It all began on a Friday afternoon after I made a very important decision. The feeling was so familiar after I opened the case which had not been opened for years.  I opened this case on a regular basis some 30 years prior. The $1200 contents of this case would pay for itself over and over. Then life, as it always does, transitioned.

    I convinced myself at this time that "I could always pick it back up again." On February 17th 2017, I made that decision. This decision led to daily practice, a detailed repair and eventually joining a symphony.  This past year has been an amazing journey so far as I am reminded of words such as Shostakovitch, sotto voce, obligado, and rubato. I know it will be an adventure, and, yes, a road trip!

   After a rugged voyage of high altitude and numerous mountain passes, the terrain began to plateau. The mountain setting gradually transformed into miles of green pastures and thoroughbred horse farms. Horses grazed in their stables in the distance over the the many acres with sprawling mansions-a very beautiful place.

   I found out about the audition sometime last December. Since then, on a daily basis, I had been working on 14 orchestral excerpts by Bach, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Mahler and many others. Some for high range, others were low- both technical and lyrical. I didn't care if I won or not. I just knew that it was an experience itself that had to happen. Regardless, 24 hours from now, I would know something.

    Our hotel was just off the interstate and I was lulled to sleep by the passing semi trucks
and would awake to the same again early the next morning. The feeling I woke up with was indescribable. I was excited, I was prepared, now all I had to do was show up.

   My first ever attempt to try out UBER was a fail and incidentally I would then be out $40 for a 20 minute cab ride to the church where the auditions was hosted. It was about 8:30am and I had about 30 minutes to warm up. It was my first professional audition and I was surrounded by professional musicians. Though they were friendly to one another, it was still a competition. It wasn't quite the same when I practice at home. Do you remember above when I mentioned the name Shostakovitch? Yes, Shostakovitch. Symphony no. 5, first movement three measures before measure 17 to 1 measure after 21. I know you have no clue what I am talking about but put in more simple terms, it is very low and very loud and on every audition list. I would soon learn what it's like to play this excerpt early on a rainy morning with no practice time prior as I was staying in a hotel (since my return to playing this instrument is recent, I'm sure that there are probably ways to work around this. Aside from practicing in the car on a cold rainy winters night I just have not yet discovered a breakthrough).

   The time came to draw numbers and we would play in order accordingly. After all auditions, selections would be made for the next round. I played what I could in my little practice room and would be sent out after my 5 minute warning. I could hear the others in their practice rooms and I know they could hear me. I really tried not to be nervous.

The Black Screen.

    Back in the day when I was auditioning more frequently, things were different than they are now. We used to walk in and saw people seated before us that we could interact with directly. We would play our instruments for them and we could see their reactions and wondered exactly what it was that they were writing about as we watched them take their notes. Fast forward to the present and auditions are now conducted more anonymously and behind a screen. In this case, discrimination is not likely. Additionally a judge can have a greater sense of undistracted audio capacity if there is nothing visually for them to look at.

     My five minutes came and went.

    I was greeted by the moderator who was very friendly. I could hear the candidate ahead of me as I waited outside the sanctuary. She was good. Though it would be a challenge, it was something I knew I had to do and I had to be strong. The moderator escorted me into the room for the anonymous audition and though she was behind a screen and I could not see her he told me that "Sarah" was happy to answer any questions.

    After the 382 mile journey and two months of preparation, this was happening.. I was now going to do what I came to do. As I walked in, it was though I was in that Dorthy moment as she approached the Great and Powerful Oz (yes, I know it's cliche, but it really is the best way to describe the moment). The room was big and the screen was ominous. The atmosphere was filled with silence. I was focused with a very high level of concentration. Before I blew my first note, I had no idea what to expect or what sound would come out but there was still enough confidence knowing that I had prepared. All I had to do was play. I played and listened as my horn resonated from the walls of the magnificent acoustics in the room....an element I knew that would work in my favor. Three of the 14 excerpts were selected for all of the candidates. The audition was about 90 seconds in which time for me stood still. The first two of three excerpts went considerably well. Shostakovitch choked.

   Had I been in my younger years, I would have been in tears. Contrarily, on this day, I was very content.

  At this point, there was nothing more for me to do but return to the warm up room and await the inevitable. Though the thought of just leaving came to mind, I stuck it out anyway. The other players came and went until every number had been called. After what had seemed like a very long morning, the moderator came in with his crew and had informed us that no one would be advancing to the next round. I wasn't really sure why it had come to that result but it made me feel even better. It took the edge off of any disappointment there may have been from the initial blow of actual rejection I knew I would face. I came and did what I needed to do and am now wiser. There will be a next time.

The number I chose was 7.

Place visited: Lexington, Kentucky

Date visited: February 10th, 2018




I always like to go to places to eat that you can't go to where I am from. After what I considered to be a pretty awesome day, I went and had a chili dog at the Gold Star Chili.

A Winter's Tale

I know I have said it before but I love my job.
The work is great but the time off is great also. I had decided when asked by my mom what I wanted for Christmas, my one and only response, was of course, I wanted a road trip. If I were some day ever to be on the Price is Right, I would definitely pass the showcase containing the game room and hot tub package for the trip to Aruba or Helsinki (not sure if that has ever been offered but the location is irrelevant).

 The air was bone chilling and my toes were hurting even with the car seat heaters on. The further north we drove the more cars we began to see covered with salt. The lines at the car washes were long and we crossed many bridges over frozen lakes and rivers. There was a trace of snow on the ground and the steam from heat exhaust pipes was released through the many rows of houses as families stayed warm inside.

 I would be returning after having visited this city many times before. It is a place I hold sacred with many things to see. On a day where most of the time the rush hour seemed to last all day, it was tranquil for the holiday week.

 As my mom and I made our way closer, the large spire of a modern pyramid shaped building enclosed with glass panels could be seen from the highway. I had always wondered about that building and requested that we visit. If for any reason, just to see the inside of it! I would later learn that there was much more to this place than just the curb appeal.
    
 As a kid growing up in a military family, my little musical mind filled with imagination could hardly make sense of the acronyms, army lingo and the vast complexity of the military as a whole. I simply just got used to a life of secured government quarters, bowling leagues and Pac man at the arcade with my other military friends and picking up and relocating on very short notice at times. As a kid I never could really identify with anyone who had lived in the same place their whole lives. That was my normal. It was all I knew.
    
  We were greeted by friendly staff near the entrance who offered more information than we could ask for. As we walked in, the arena before us filled with 150 years of military history was overwhelming.  

  However, since I had grown up in the army, I realized how little I knew about the marines. I was always under the impression that the Armed forces was the primary branch of military that engaged in ground combat. When we hear the term "Marine," we think "maritime" or "amphibious" It all makes since but I had no idea that the Marines actually played every role in combat and was the original branch of military. Having not known this until now makes me wonder how I would not become a light shade of blonde.

 There was so much to see in the vast enormity of this place. Each wing encircled the perimeter of the building and represented a different wartime period. Along with that, there was a wide spread timeline featuring world events that took place over the past 150 years. It was immense but there were some significant sights that were worthy of mention. I wasn't the greatest student in history class as my brain just isn't wired that way. Please note, as an artist, it is far easier for me to write about a walk through an art gallery or a breathtaking landscape. However I hold high respect to those who served throughout this history and with a father who is a was hero himself everything here in one form or another is of sentiment.
  
 The beautiful atrium showcased actual aircraft displayed over head and at the ground floor. There were portraits of soldiers and quotes engraved alongside the marble walls. What captured my attention the most was a 1965 helicopter. The Sikorski UH-34D was a part of "Operation Starlight" as the need for more helicopters was inevitable. Soldiers, such as my dad would fly these helicopter and tended to battle while their little daughters in diapers were back home.

 There was so much to see as we made our way through to the separate wings which housed many different artifacts, dioramas, and multi media presentations. As we entered the era of World War 1, I learned a thing or two about cannons. The more light weight they were the easier they were to transport and mount onto ships and field carriages. They were called howitzers and had a mounting lug with a smooth bore and only weighed 12 pounds. Something I know now that I did not before.

 

 

  Then there was John Philip Sousa, finally something I know about. From as early on as high school and on up through my teaching years, I knew the marches well from 4th of July ceremonies and playing them myself for band festivals. However, there were still many things I did not know. I learned that in 1798, a marine-formed ensemble was given by congress and named "The Presidents Own" by Thomas Jefferson in 1801. The ensemble rose to fame when Sousa was given direction over the players in 1880. I remember we were all taught that he was known as the "March King."
  A special baton was awarded to him in 1930 for his distinguished success in leadership.






WWII:
Iwo Jima


 Again, I was not exactly a sponge when it came to historical facts as I was a bit of a daydreamer in most of my history classes. I did not live through WW2 and Vietnam hit a little closer to home. However references to Pearl Harbor, Blitzkrieg, and Iwo Jima resonated often. I didn't know all the details, but I knew they were catastrophic.

The Battle of Iwo Jima was intended to claim the islands and use them for the purposes of military staging. 6800 Marines died in the battle. The memorial honors all of the fallen Marines. Amidst all of the 6800 medallions for each soldier, an image of the island and the beach which surrounded can been seen through photography but not the naked eye.

                          

This Lego depiction can be seen on display in the museum's gift shop.

  It was the US Marines who raised the flag in victory at Mount Suribachi. The magnificent flag measuring at 96-by-56 inches itself was on display at the museum but no photography was allowed. 

  As devastating as this war seems based on what we read in our history books and movies we watch, war is much closer when someone you know is out fighting the battles.



Vietnam


One of my most favorite movies of all time is that of Forest Gump. We all remember how he was just a little off in every way but always seemed to end up the hero in one way or another all throughout the entire movie. He was the simple gardener who became a millionaire, scored his one winning play in every football game and broke through his leg braces as he ran from bullies.

  The Vietnam war scene was interwoven with humor when Forest met his friend Bubba as they scrubbed the floor with toothbrushes while talking about the shimpin' boat. He then became a ping pong champ and even the scene when Lieutenant Dan walked into the outhouse made the scene easier to watch. Until the battle.

 After a long day's mission, he got the may-day call from the CB in his copter. It was a voice he would never forget the sound of and a voice that would haunt him forever if he did not do that which  he was to do.  The eerie sound of Helicopters filled the air as they flew overhead and the soldiers were ordered to evacuate. The helicopters were soon followed by the jet fighters. There were bodies everywhere and there was one explosion after. Land mines were every where and bullets were flying.  Risking being court marshaled he pursued until he found the soldier who had been shot down. He brought the man to safety. Not all the details were ever revealed about that day out in the jungle as it would have been a difficult story to tell. Though it was only one soldier and not several like Forest Gump, my dad received the Distinguished Flying Cross for this act of bravery. A man's life was spared and my dad became a hero. Two tours: one in combat the other in administration. My dad had his share of stories of how rattle snakes were thrown in tents while soldiers slept and how he had a gun to his back in his office by a troubled soldier all while his little girl back at home watched Mr. Rogers. He also remembered the jungle and the quiet times in what he still referred to as a beautiful place.

Though the displays at the museum from this war were true to life and very impressive, the stories alone were enough.

That's all I have to say about that.


We Were Hungry.


  The very first recruitment for the US Marines took place in a quaint little tavern located in Philadelphia. The museum had their own version of this tavern in a cozy secluded place on the upper level. Chicken and dumplings served me well on a cold winters day after a pleasant afternoon.

This experienced marked me and will forever be a great memory. I learned more than I ever thought I would about the US Marines and was introduced to a lot of history I was unaware of. It was a great time with family and a time to remember.

The sun was setting and the air was colder. The drive the next day would be long and work would start back again for me. Life moves swiftly and even more so the older I get. However some things seem more and more meaningful all the time. You have to keep your eyes open as to not miss anything.





Place visited: National Museum of the Marine Corps, Quantico, VA.
Lunch: The Tun Tavern
Date visited: Jan. 2nd, 2018

Distinguished Flying Cross

                 I also visited my war hero who is laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery
                                                                    in Arlington VA.




















  


  
 
  

Anime

 Most of my travels are simply to escape. A reason, if you will, to have an excuse not to think of bills housework, schedules and work. I work a lot of hours. I have the best job in the world but that is a reason for me to miss my babies during some of those long days. So since my past travels may include a full description of picturesque views of breathtaking mountainsides, sushi on conveyor belts, or endless miles of sandy beaches with parasailers and cargo ships in the background, I will now write of something unique to this. Something I have never written of.

       The suitcases are neatly packed in the trunk like a successful game of Tetris, lunches bagged by my daughter containing sandwiches, pretzels and Little Debbies and the Dramamine has been distributed. The car is immaculate and full of gas after our last stop at the QuickTrip for drinks, donuts and coffee. Good times. Everything we need for the next 10 hours of road ahead. Now I will finally get the much needed time with my babies.

       As we make good time down the road in surprising little traffic, the kids peacefully eat their breakfast. Some with their headphones on and others with colored pencils. The sun gradually melts away the morning fog and the road ahead is clear as we cruise through the first of 5 states. The noise from the back increases with excitement as we pass through the large cities. Older siblings help the younger ones when it is time to stop. We make progress as we pass from one border to another every time getting closer to our destination. Its sounds like such bliss. Then there is that lucky feeling of me being a mom to 5 amazing human beings.
        
       From the many long road trips we have taken I have learned how to change a Pull-Up in a parking lot without anyone noticing, entertain the kids by blowing bubbles with the wind from the air conditioner, and retrieve dropped crayons from behind the seat without removing my seat belt. But one problem remains unsolved. When the claws start to creep out, there is no where to run.

      In past travels I have discovered that the state of Illinois is very long. As we cross over from Kentucky, the Immaculate car has become a sea of crumbs, crayons and an unexplained wet spot. We enter the convenience store as bedheads while wearing chocolate donut frosting. As my feeling of mother of the year starts to wane, the day enters into a whole new dynamic. And 3 hours still remaining.
             
Laurel

   Yes, Laurel. She is child #4 and very much worthy of having a chapter all of her own. All of my girls are unique in their own way but many noteworthy memories involve her. Her pediatrician recommended that we get her involved in the drama club at school. She is also the kid who will ask for one thing after another at Kroger and when she is told that she cannot have everything in the store, she simply replies: "Well, I don't want vinegar." She is that child. Clever in many ways. However, clever has more than one description.
 
   As we ventured on, we received a complaint about Laurel from one of the other disgusted passengers from the back seat. Since Laurel was seated in the middle, she had limited availability to rest her feet. The truth is, she was aware of the problem but persisted with apathy for an extended period of time. We tried tickling and poking and that would work for a little while. The problem persisted. She was asked one more time and I was ignored. She was asked again and again until I noticed she was peacefully "sleeping" and could not "hear" me. She did however wake up quickly when she heard the words "You're grounded!"

Laurel wants me to take her to Japan after she graduates from fifth grade. Keep an eye out for the blog.
   
      After an inferno involving a tractor trailer, the three hours left still remained. As anticipation grew, tempers also began to flair. Words like "She's touching me!" Started to sound more like "I hate you!" and "Shut up!" and "Mom, aren't you going to do anything!!" It was all happening so fast. There was no bathroom behind a locked door with the fan on where I could run to at the time.

     There was however a glass of wine, a hot bath and beloved family waiting for us at our destination

and all was forgotten. As easy as it would be just to fly, it is simply out of the question since there are 7 of us. Since my mom had a fear of flying, we drove everywhere and that left me with many similar but fond memories. I can only hope the same for all of them.

                                                              Laurel Anne Fair, age 9

England 2017-La La Land

         I cried as we walked out the door of the charming little place in Earls Court that we had called home for that week. Departure day is most dreaded. Not only do we have to say goodbye, just as when we left, we had to get through the hassle of getting to the airport, knowing where to go to check in in the hopes that there won't be any set backs. In addition to never having flown out of Gatwick International Airport, the area of the District line (a heavily traveled train route in London) was shut down at our station and we had to reroute to get to Victoria station where we were to make our connection to the airport. Most of the trains were very full  and there were times we had to carry our heavy luggage up many stairs where there were no lifts. I was a nervous wreck but tried to hold it together for Emma.

         After sheer and utter bedlam we, once again, made it to Gatwick and found our terminal on time without a whole lot of trouble at this point. When we reached our terminal, we were in the company of many anticipatory Disney bound  English tourists joining us on a flight to Orlando, Florida where we would have a two hour layover. They were wearing their mouse ears, had pillows with Disney princess pillowcases and I envied all of them as they shared the same excitement we did the week before.

          It did feel nice once the plane took flight and the rat race finally ended. However, my goodbye was now a reality and I was saddened by the uncertainty as to when I would return.

    The departure was early afternoon and since we were flying westbound across five time zones, I was happy to know that we would have lunch twice. My Indian Paneer arrived with a side of pink coleslaw, Boursin cheese with crackers, chocolate ganache for dessert and a small bottle of white wine. I dined while I watched the movie "La La Land." I ate my food slowly and gradually sipped the wine. Since I don't typically frequent wine with lunch, I was left feeling like I was a bit in La La Land myself. Though my "buzz" didn't really last that long, it wasn't such a bad feeling. I had to take a moment to celebrate the fact that I had successfully taken the time to stop and smell the roses in the midst of  a very busy life. It's why I do what I do. I refuse to live a life where I go to work, come home, pay bills and eventually die. Irresponsible? Maybe. A little. Regrets? Nope!

  Gallery 

One of the things I like to do the most in London and the best way to fight of jet lag is just by simply walking. I had already been here long enough for jet lag to no longer be an issue but walking the streets still stands as a priority. Though I will see many things I have seen before already, Emma will see them for the first time. I will never tire of any of them and will also welcome anything new. Picadilly Circus is like the Times Square of London. It is in the heart of the city where there is a lot of entertainment and shopping.

 

  London is a treasure trove of talent. Street musicians, jugglers, and men painted to look like statues can be seen throughout the streets.
(I had to keep the photos to a minimum as it was my last day in the city and I had no tip money left).

    

  Regent Street never fails to astound me. It is the first of my views once our tube train arrives to the West End. To think that these connected rows of buildings have stood through centuries!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not quite sure how this fellow looks ascomfortable as he does without really anything to sit on.
Quite fascinating none the less!

Here is the facade of Westminster Abbey as it glowed in the sun. Though I had no tip for the nearby bagpiper, I still enjoyed his music to go along with my view. 

Yes, we've all seen it, I know. Whole different story when it is right there in front of you.

 Beautiful view where tragedy had taken place two weeks prior. We took a moment to show respect and remember.

We had been walking quite a bit. We just needed a place to stop rest our feet for a while.

Here is an image of my Facebook status. I you'll notice, the notfication globe has now turned showing Europe and Africa. Facebook must have known I was in the UK! How about that? Not quite sure really.

                                                                       La La Land:

"Another Day of Sun"

 

       

           
  

England 2017- Alex, Esther and Prince Albert

   I did some online research ahead of time about what events would take place the week we would be in London. More importantly, would anything be free? I successfully was able to find a venue offering free live music. Not only did I succeed, but Italian cuisine would be included in the package.

     After a long pleasant early evening walk through South Kensington, we had found our destination within a large concert hall. We were seated in an elegant dining setting with a place reserved just for us. We arrived before the music began. I was very glad that the menu prices were reasonable as it was the last night we would be in London and my funds were close to exhausted. Emma and I shared a Margherita pizza with sparkling water. We learned that not all pizza in Britain are to be sliced, but eaten with a fork and knife which was how it would be served to us. I folded when Emma wanted chocolate chip gelato. The food was good but was really an added bonus as we were here for the music.

      There were only two up on stage that night. As the guests dined over fine food with wine in their glasses, a well known local jazz pianist glided his melodies with flawless technique and perfectly synchronized rhythms which accompanied them. His ballads flowed with much feeling and ease. His talent was extraordinary.

     Esther.

    There are people in this world who are searching for their purpose (now getting all philosophical). We all have to aspire and try different things to find out what were good at. That seems to come easier for some than it does than others. Some of us may take up sculpting or Zumba dancing and may easily find their place or simply just move on to the next thing as they begin to lose interest. And some of us know exactly who they are and where they need to go in life and take those things and make them their own.

     There was a very young woman who was setting up her place on the stage where she would play her stand up bass. Her name was Esther. She caught my attention very quickly though I was not sure what to expect. I have heard many jazz trios and different R&B acts and the players all seem to have a familiar persona about them. Many of them are men dressed in business casual attire and it is not unusual for the women to dazzle with sequins, costume jewelry, and heavy makeup. Esther's demeanor however was very conservative and more of intellect-not necessarily driven to look the role to pursue the center of attention. She did not have to.
  
      Each time the music began, she came to life with her instrument. Her frolicking fingers were as though they were dancing on the strings effortlessly and free. Since it was just her and the piano and there was no drummer, she played that role also as the body of the string bass became her drum. I later learned that Esther holds a doctorate in Genomic Medicine but is also someone of very animated talent who just wants to play her bass. It's women like this who change the world!
    

Royal Albert Hall, South Kensington, UK

   
   Place visited: Royal Albert Hall has been a performance
                          venue  since 1871 in honor of Albert, Prince
                          Consort. 
                                              
   Eats: Verdi Italian Restaurant

   Artists: Alex Hutton, piano
                 Esther Ng, Bass

   Date visited: June 16th, 2017

Alex and Esther

  

 Esther in action:

 "Beautiful Friendship"

Jazz combo benefit gig.

(Esther's solo is around 5:40)