Composer, Educator, Conductor, Blue Jack Music, Making Music Work
I am not a boxing fan. In fact, I abhor boxing. When I was 5 or 6 years old, I wandered into a boxing gym in Lubbock, TX and it scared me to death. Half a century later, I still remember it.
That being said, I respect the dedication required of those who practice it.
I’m around kids all the time. So are you.
My feel for them may differ from yours because Mondays through Thursdays, my job is to teach them, to guide behavior, to help keep their ever-spinning wheels mostly on the ground and between the lines.
Through our days together, I occasionally deal with depression. Both mine and theirs.
September 11 is my wedding anniversary. My wife will never forgive Al Qaeda.
I say this with no smile.
Instead of having dinner with her that night in 2001, I was making plans with the Washington headquarters to head to NYC as part of a special Red Cross Disaster Response team.
I was a Response Specialist at the time. I got to New York September 14. Times Square was empty. Lower Manhattan looked like a set for a sci-fi movie – all dust and floating paper. Then there was the smell.
In ancient Africa, there was no word for music or dance or art. Art was life. Life was art. Music was as necessary as water.
The idea of music as special event is a European phenomenon.
The notion of using music as noise filter, customer calmer, or mall /elevator diversion is 100% United Statesian.
