525,600 Minutes....

My 36th Birthday. Usually on my birthday, I tend to mournfully recount the myriad accomplishments I HAVEN'T made to date: finishing my degree, obtaining a steady teaching job, becoming a well-known and well-paid drill designer, having a well-maintained and reasonably spacious house, etc. This depressing tradition is particularly observed on milestone birthdays - 5's and 10's, mostly - where I have particular goals set forth in the naivete of my youth. This year, however, given all that has happened, I tend to be focusing on the aspects that actually matter. I have a job (3+, actually, depending on how you count), two increasingly brilliant, talented, and impressive kids, a house I'm make more and more my own every day, a WORKING car (knock wood), scores of absolutely wonderful friends whom I cherish, and an amazing girlfriend who understands and adores me every bit as much as I do her.

As happy as I am, on the whole, and as well as things are going for me now (which I'll recount later), something's missing today. The one thing missing to make this happiest of birthdays is the traditional (if exceedingly corny and often ill-timed) early morning call from my mother, singing "Happy Birthday" to me in a sappy, kid-like voice, followed by the long-winded recounting of the day of my birth.

My mother, Nancy Orton Keiser, passed away this Easter Sunday morning, April 4th, at the age of 65 . She died of congestive heart failure, which she suffered from several years back and recovered (mostly) from. It was likely a combination of factors - diabetes, asthma, sleep apnea, arthritis, and being a good 300 lbs overweight, among other factors - that led to this latest episode being fatal. She died in my grandfather's house, with him at her side. It was quick, sudden, and she didn't suffer.

My mother was the most loving person I ever knew. She would always try and help in whatever way she could - for anyone. No, she was not always encouraging. She didn't always tell you what you wanted to hear, and would often make snap-judgments based on little information. As a child, whenever I saw a TV commercial for something I wanted, she'd say, "Well, save your pennies!", resulting in a disappointed pout and "hrumph!" from me. To this day, proudly painted on the change jug on my dresser is the phrase, "Mom always said, 'Save your pennies!'"

Still, her motivation behind whatever she said was ALWAYS to help. She had a unique way of distilling situations into quotable catch phrases and cliches, which one of my mothers friends referred to at her funeral as "Nancyisms". Some wholly inapplicable to the situation, but many times, offering a clarity of perspective that would allow for a fresh approach to a situation.

It was this willingness to listen to people and help them deal with their own problems (not so much the snap-judgment part), that has formed a great deal of how I relate to my friends and those I love. It's that inexhaustible, unflappable, unconditional love and willingness to help others, despite your own problems, that I have tried to emulate and has made me who I am. This is likely the biggest part of my mother that I will miss. Not always her help or advice, but the spirit and pure love behind it.

I credit her most of all for my involvement in music. Not just my LOVE of music, which I get equally from both of my parents, but my motivation to LEARN about music and create it, rather than just appreciate it. This was one area of my life where her support was absolutely unquestionable. I remember being maybe 5 years old and her trying to teach me to play our old electric organ in the living room. I didn't have the patience to endure much instruction at that age, but she taught me where 'C' was on a keyboard and where the notes went from there...and that started everything. My first music theory lesson.

This is my first birthday without her. Even as I type this, I'm tearing up, which is rather odd for me. In the month or so since she passed, I haven't allowed much time for myself to feel her absence or cry over it. You all know (or can read in my previous posts) how insanely busy I am. That, combined with the pride I take in being people's emotional 'rock', have forced me to push my feelings about my mother's passing aside for the time, and do what needs to be done, which is to be there for my family, continue to work my insane schedule to pay the bills, and fulfill the obligations I have to myself and others, like the quartet, chorus, and friends.

I don't resent this. This is not a feeling I want to deal with. I feel it's selfish, coming from myself. I'm MORE than understanding helping OTHERS deal with their feelings and being there to support THEM, but I'm not great at expressing my negative emotions to others. It's not their problem to deal with, and I don't want to burden anyone else with my problems. Sure, I'll whine and bitch about work, cars, computers, and other insignificant situations that others can easily relate to, and yet feel no real responsibility to fix, but emotional crises are different. Most of my friends are VERY supportive and sympathetic and want to help. I don't want to put them in a situation where their help may be ineffective, inadvertently dismissed, or in a moment of weakness, irrationally resented. Believe me, I know how much that stings.

In the past year I have had my car die (several times), lived in a gutted, filthy house with no heat or hot water, had my manhood, character, and parenting called into question MULTIPLE times, doubled my workload, had my income cut by more than half, nearly lost my house, had to swallow my pride and accept charity on more occasions than I am comfortable with, even walked 4 miles in the freezing rain on Christmas Day before going to work at a barely-above-minimum-wage job. All of these are insignificant. I didn't even consider these things over the past several months. This year, I lost my mother. I lost her ill-timed, sleep-interrupting calls at the crack of dawn 'just to talk'. I lost her oversimplification of complex issues to reach a conclusion that had no real world application - or often even vague similarity - to the situation. I lost her meddling into my business and relationships to try and get everyone to see things her way. I lost her obnoxious, cheesy references to embarrassing incidents from my childhood and their "supposed" relevance to my problems today.

Most of all, I lost the absolute love behind every single one of those maddening habits. As much as she drove me absolutely bananas, I NEVER felt unloved by these acts. She always had love behind it - and I knew it.

I'll get to the HAPPY birthday stuff later. Right now, I'm penciling some time into my schedule to grieve for a bit.

My Semi-awesome Weekend...

(I couldn't think of a decent weekend-themed song lyric/title for this one)

Saturday started out simple enough: getting up and the kids moving and dressed. Sonya wanted to head to Canada with her brother to paint the cottage again, since the past month has left that kind of on the back burner to deal with her car's tire. This gave me much of the weekend to myself.

After a bit of tidying, I stopped by the comic shop to grab the IDW Comic Bios of the candidates. I didn't expect much of them, but they're surprisingly detailed and insightful! I bought both to be fair, balanced, and to hedge my bets as a collector. They don't include every vote and decision, but I must say they helped me gain a bit of respect for both candidates, warts and all. Neither changed my mind in the slightest, but they made my decision a bit clearer based on ideals, experience, and motives, rather than speculation and rumor.

After my semi-weekly pilgimage to the Comics & More, I headed to my sister's to borrow her lawn mower. It's been relatively dry lately and I haven't realy needed to mow the lawn for weeks, but it was getting about that time. I pulled up to find her waiting in her front yard for our friend Paulie B., who she had planned to have lunch with and go thrift store shopping with afterward. I joined them for lunch, though I had just had Taco Bell with the family before they took off. We had a great time sharing appetizers and chatting about everything from local music, to mutual friend gossip, to jobs and gigs. I had a blast catching up with baby sister and my aptly dubbed "inner child".

After dropping me off back at my sister's, I loaded up the mower and headed home. The rest of the afternoon was spent on mowing and chores. From there, I went to work at the video store. After work, with the family gone and no one expecting me home, I headed to my buddy Bob's for his weekly IPM internet radio show. I charged down the stairs just in time for one of the breaks between DJ's. We spent the evening over beer and music, playing Wii Bowling, discussing politics and life. Pure awesomeness. Dig it. I headed home about 1am and hit the hay.

Sunday, I spent the morning catching up with my parents on the phone. I try to call them once or twice a week, if possible. My dad and I discussed barbershop and family, as usual. She even payed my Barbershop Society dues online while we were on the phone (after some not-so-thinly veiled psuedo-begging). I then finally returned my mom's call. She calls me about 4 times a week these days, as my sister is kind of boycotting her (long story there - don't judge). She bemoaned my sister's behavior while I played the middle ground and voice of reason - my usual role. Regardless, it was nice to catch up with her and talk to her.

After that, back to chores. I got a lot accomplished before bringing the mower back to Val's and spending about an hour mowing her jungle - er - yard. Sonya and the kids got home while I was there (rather than the 10pm they often get back from weekend trips), so any recording I had planned was out. Bummer.

While checking my e-mail that night, I noticed a listing on the PioNet (Pioneer District of the Barbershop Harmony Society's Listserv) for a director position at my dad's old chapter in Lansing. I probably don't have the qualifications for a higher level, cometitive chorus (i.e. Harmony U., BHS Director's College, a gold medal, etc.), but I sent along a letter of interest anyway. If it pays enough to justify wedging it into my schedule, this would be a dream gig! I'm hoping to meet with the chir of the search committee at convention (assuming I can go). I don't expect much to come of it, but at the very least, I may be able to pitch myself for more learnng track gigs and maybe some coaching. We'll see. Networking never hurts.

A great weekend, mixed with socializing, productivity, and reconnecting with family I rarely see. The trick now is, I have at least 5 more songs to record for a couple groups sometime soon. With the weekly grind and the convention (or camp out) this weekend, I'll have to sneak stuff in a track or two at a time. I'll figure it out - I always do...

Insanity is just a stubbed toe away…

This week has been one of the most mentally stressful I can remember. It seems that everything has been piling up and crashing down at all at once. Nothing that has turned me into an emotional wreck, mind you. No major tragedies or things that have made me profoundly sad, just a pile of logistical nightmares that I've had to juggle that have had me on the brink of "postal".

First and foremost stresser – finances:

This always has me stressed when I think about it too much, but this week in particular. I use my debit card for everything. I almost NEVER carry cash anymore. I knew my account was getting a bit low, but I figured there was no need to panic until my card came back "declined" somewhere. I asked Sonya to stop by my work and pick up my check and deposit it for me on Friday, as I was heading to Monroe for the day and wouldn't be available. She didn't have time. Meanwhile, I used my card for necessities like lunch and gas, with no problems and no hint anything was wrong.

It seems, despite having turned this feature off SEVERAL times over the years, my bank has been extending me a "courtesy". My bank decided to spare me the "embarrassment" of having my card declined, so they continued to pay my charges – to the tune of a $5 per transfer from my saving when the checking went to zero and $21 service fee per transaction when the savings was exhausted. Yea. Thanks SO much for saving me the embarrassment and just CHARGING ME $280 OVER 3 DAYS WHILE THE BANK WAS CLOSED!!!

I go to the bank on Saturday to deposit my miniscule Blockbuster check (since my REAL paycheck from Custom Music was sitting locked up at the store for the weekend) and notice the big, fat minus after my balance even AFTER the deposit. I freak out a bit but figure we can survive the weekend and fix it Monday. Now, I'm all for honoring our veterans, but Bank Holidays fucking piss me off. Why is it the REST of the world keeps working and moving, but banks and federal services get the fucking day off!!!??? So, we have to survive on nothing till Tuesday.

Next stresser – work:

The reason I was in Monroe on Friday was to try my hand at a new job. My supervisor at Custom Music (the one I actually LIKE), Kevin, is starting a distributorship for a new line of band instruments. Good, quality stuff at reasonable prices, but he needs salesmen who can actually SELL to the retailers. I went down to his offices to make some cold calls and see if I couldn't set up a few meetings with some retailers in Ohio and get a few orders. I did pretty damned well, too. Set up 5 meetings my first day and planned 2 road trips to show samples. I was looking forward to this job perhaps slowly replacing my income at Custom Music. Not in any short timeframe, mind you, and I had no plans to just up and leave a steady income for the touch-and-go nature of commission. There was the opportunity for some extra Holiday cash though, selling at least the samples to the stores I visited while they test them out.

I get to work on Monday and the dipshit troll of an owner, Fred, comes in all fire and brimstone, yelling things about company loyalty and how Kevin is selling me nothing but empty promises. Never mind that Kevin isn't selling ANYTHING in direct competition to Fred, but Fred doesn't want me working for him. He gives me an ultimatum that if I work for Kevin, I don't work for Custom Music, giving up the primary source on income for my family.

I wanted to pummel the man with a tuba mouthpiece right then and there. I finally am given an opportunity to use my skills (sales) in a medium I know and understand (band instruments), and this megalomaniacal motherfucker tells me I can't. I can't just quit and go to the sales job because sales don't show big money until you build a client base. With bills piled high as the Great Wall and Christmas looming, that's way too many eggs in one basket.

ANOTHER stresser – family:

My mother has been struggling with her weight for years and is by all possible definitions, morbidly obese. She had a bout with congestive heart failure several years ago, but seemed to learn a lesson from it and was on the mend. She was losing weight for a time (or at least not GAINING weight), and was regaining some mobility.

Recently, however, she has been on a steady downward spiral of inactivity and overeating. She's gotten good at hiding it, but my sister is a bloodhound about it and busted her. Apparently, she called a neighbor to ask her to pick some of her diabetic supplies up from the drug store while my grandfather was in rehab, recovering from surgery. She then asked said neighbor to pick up 3 bags of Halloween candy, under the auspices that her grandchildren were coming over and she wanted to give them something for a belated Trick-or-Treat.

She only got one giant bag of candy, but ate the WHOLE BAG in one night. She also managed to eat about 6 servings of vegetable beef soup – also in one night.

Last night My sister and I staged an intervention, explaining to her exactly how all of this makes us feel and how it affects the rest of the family. I read her the riot act about using MY KIDS in a LIE to a well-intentioned neighbor, so she can defy her doctor, father, and all common sense and gorge herself on candy. I was absolutely livid. Promises were made, but more importantly, action plans were implemented where my sister and I can keep on her. Here's hoping.

The DE-stresser - quartet:

Originally, I had accidentally booked one of my road trips for the new sales job on the day of a quartet gig (serves me right for not using my planner). This had me a bit panicked at first, but then I got an e-mail from our bass that he couldn't make the gig anyway. Okay, so I have to cancel the gig, but at least I didn't have to call my clients to reschedule. I call the gal we booked with and she manages to reschedule the gig for a mutually workable time. Cool! We still get the gig an subsequent money!

Then I get forwarded an email for another gig…then another…then a phone call for another. In the span of four hours we went from having to cancel our only gig to suddenly having FOUR! At $65 a pop for each of us, suddenly the extra Christmas money was seeming a bit easier to come by.

Things continue to pile up, but some of the pieces are beginning to fall into place. I'm off to the bank to yell at them and get those service fees refunded and the "courtesy" feature disabled on our cards. I'll continue to play Tetris with the pieces of my life and attempt to stack all these pieces of my crazy life neatly, so, hopefully, I won't get overwhelmed by it all and can enjoy the Holidays this year.

Yea…and Fred Phelps might join the cast of Rent…

Coming up next: The Halloween Blog – FINALLY!

Praying for dear friends and the rest of my week...

Much of the early part of the week was spent playing phone and e-mail tag with various representatives of the Barbershop Harmony Society, dotting the 'i's and crossing the 't's to get the quartet properly registered for the upcoming contest a week from Friday – mostly done while I was at work. I spent a lot of time on the phone and computer talking with judges, officials, and other knowledgeable people making sure the all four of us are properly registered and dues paid with the society, that our repertoire is appropriate and legal, and that our application to the contest went through and was processed properly. This is the first time ANY of us have competed with a quartet in the Society, so we want to be sure we got everything right. Mission accomplished thus far. No red flags have gone up, so I'm assuming we're good to go.

Thankfully, there was no contest entry fee, just our convention registration we all had to pay to get in with the chorus, so I won't be riddled with guilt over owing our baritone more money for fronting money for us. The other three of us are usually dead broke, so he has a propensity for picking up the tab for unexpected expenses. Dave Beamer has really become an anchor for the quartet. Between his knowledge of vocal performance techniques, his attention to detail, and his generous nature, he's been a HELLUVA find for us. I'm glad we swooped down like musical vultures and snatched him up before any other quartets got to him.

Deciding on our wardrobe for contest has been a bit tricky. We have several outfits, but nothing very formal. After a couple weeks of searching, I finally found a great fabric for vests and bow ties for us: satin with a hint of glittery sparkle. It's has a classy, subtle sparkle in each of our colors, and not too gawdy. Sonya and my sister, Val, have agreed to work on them so we can have them ready for contest. Both are wizards with a sewing machine. They're gonna look great. The only trick is, do we wear them with our tuxes or just on their own? I'd hate to cover them up. Regardless – tuxes or no – we'll be wearing our trademark High-top Chucks with them.

One little thing they've added to the convention this year is a moustache contest. I generally have neatly trimmed goatee, with occasional forays into the full beard realm, but I'm not big on having a full-on "crumb catcher" under my nose. For the past month or so, however, I decided to give it a try in anticipation of this contest. Thus far, I have a pretty full mustache that has been driving me absolutely nuts! Eating anything with a condiment leads to a sloppy lip, hairs make the occasional journey into my mouth, and forget about drinking anything! I look like a rabid St. Bernard after a glass of milk. I actually purchased mustache wax, which I've used a couple times, in an attempt to "train" the stray hairs, to little avail. It feels like wearing Elmer's glue on my upper lip! On the upside, it's long enough to get the effect of the turn-of-the-century handlebar curl on the ends. I had planned on trimming it back to my standard short length immediately after the contest, but after seeing the cover of the Sunday Free Press and it's headlining story about upcoming video games for the holidays, I found myself twisting the ends of my moustache like Snidley Whiplash as I looked at a picture of Nintendo's Mario. Maybe I'll wait till after Halloween after all.

Brava to Jenn Edwards and her quartet, Moxie Ladies for an ASTOUNDING performance at Sweet Adelines Internation convention this past week in Calgary! I missed the webcast on Wednesday night of their prelims performance, but apparently underestimated their talent as they made 7th going into finals. I did manage to catch and record their finals set, which earned them 4th place in the world!! I fully expect they will get a medal of some kind next year. In my opinion, they were gyped and should have at LEAST gotten the bronze this year! Keep at it, ladies! Ya sounded AWESOME!

The other big part of my week has been spent worrying about a good friend of mine. Jason Bradley was rushed to the hospital late last week after what appears to have been a pulmonary embolism. His heart stopped and the docs performed CPR on him for about 40 minutes. He is currently in the ICU at Beaumont in Royal Oak. The prognosis isn't good, but not certain.

Jason and I have never been particularly close. More than a casual friend, I consider him a good friend that I just don't get much opportunity to see. I met him his freshman year while hanging out with a gaggle of my sister's friends. He was familiar with my work with the choir and Dondero's Pop Concert and looked up to me a bit. I've always like being a mentor, so he and I hit it off well. Jason's a big-hearted, talented guy with a great, though occasionally twisted sense of humor. He loves to have fun, but, like me, derives much of his joy from helping others and bringing smiles to people's faces. We need more like him these days.

I went to visit him last Friday before I went to work at Blockbuster. He was about as I had expected: unconscious, hooked up to every machine in the place, intubation tube down his throat, I.V.s plugged up and down his arms and in every orifice, and monitors beeping and whirring. This didn't shock or surprise me. My mother suffered congestive heart failure a few years back and she was in the exact same place. She was unconscious for several days and in the ICU for about 2 weeks. She's fine now, recovering well, and working on regaining some of the mobility she had lost prior to the event.

This is what I have been focusing on for Jason. Several of his family and friends have been visiting and eulogizing him while they're there, referring to him in that past tense. This infuriates me. If we had done that for my mom, I have no doubt that she wouldn't be with us today. The human spirit thrives on positive thinking and energy. If my mom can come back from this at age 60, my good friend can do the same at 29.

I have always been the perky, chipper, optimistic rock in situations like this. I'm not sure if it's a matter of perspective or emotionally distancing myself from unpleasantness, but rather than spend my time worrying and weeping about what MIGHT happen, I find it more helpful to be a shoulder to cry on and a voice of hope for tentative situations. There is no point in expecting the worst. It's not only torture for the family and friends while awaiting the final outcome; it's counter-productive to the situation. It breeds negativity, and that's not what Jason needs right now.

I'm not a particularly religious man. I have a faith in God and try to live by a moral principal set forth primarily by the teachings of Jesus, but I'm not big on religious platitudes, doctrine, or ceremony. I do, however, believe in the power of prayer. Not in so much as asking God for what you want will grant your every wish. I believe that God has a divine plan and purpose for us all and that our OWN decisions make it so. But I do believe that prayer provides an air of positive energy and love that has the power to heal. God will do what he will with Jason, but surrounding him with positive thoughts and prayers will give him the strength to do as God wills.

Personally, I can't believe that He is done with Jason. Jason is only 29, and while he doesn't take very good care of himself and has a tendency to neglect his own health and well being, it's often for the benefit of those he loves. While he is most CERTAINLY a lazy guy with an unhealthy taste for bad food and other vices, I believe God is planning this as a wake-up call for him to start taking better care of himself so he can continue to be the bright shining light of hope, happiness and fun for those around him.

I've visited him twice so far: Friday before work and Sunday morning. Sunday, I spent mostly taking with his family and giving his mom a sounding board, positive perspective, and shoulder to cry on. He had a parade of friends and family going through, so I just breezed in for a minute to crack a joke or two at his expense, and tell him to "wake the fuck up! We got concerts to go to and stuff!"

I talk to him, not at or about him. I don't pretend he can't hear me. I don't talk like he's not in the room. As long as there's the faintest glimmer of hope that he'll be back again, espousing his latest plan to make it rich and/or change the world and ask how he can help, I'll be COUNTING on the fact that he will. There's no point in thinking otherwise.

If you're the praying type, please say a few prayers for Jason.

If you're not, just think positively about him and look forward to meeting him or seeing him again at your next party.

Above all, think positive, happy thoughts about him and assume he'll be getting out of the ICU soon and hangin' with us again.

Birthday Presents…

I don't usually expect much by way of presents on my birthday. I try not to be greedy. If I get a DVD or two I've wanted for a long time and a 6-pack of some really good beer, I'm pretty happy. I'm more about the though and effort. I appreciate clever gifts that show how well a person knows me or shows how much trouble they went through to make/get it for me, rather than how much they spent (though cost can be a sign of sacrifice, so I appreciate pricey stuff on that level).

From my parents and grandfather, I usually get cash. I appreciate it a lot. It usually bails me out of some hole I dug for myself or helps me to whittle down ye olde tuition bill a bit. They usually can't afford the big stuff I want and they wish they could get me, and don't get the chance to talk with me enough to know the little things I may want. So it's usually a nice check to either get something I've been wanting or get some minor monetary monkey off my back.

This year, however, my darling, loving, considerate and wonderful parents hit the nail square on the head with two presents that synergize to become complete creative AWESOMENESS for me!

From my dad, a new laptop.

From my mom, the newest upgrade to Finale music composition software.

For those of you non-musicians or have not tried composing or arranging, the best way to articulate the compulsion to do so it this: It's like puzzle-solving, but you're making the puzzle yourself as you go, creating your own challenges to overcome, and setting your own difficulty level. In the end you not only have the satisfaction of a completed puzzle and obstacles overcome, you have MUSIC! A work of art. Same with marching drill design.

I have wanted to do some arranging of music (mostly for my barbershop quartet) for ages, but have lacked the time to do so. I'm either at work or there's stuff to do at home and tying myself to the computer in the crowded bedroom makes concentration impractical, if not impossible. Not to mention, since I lost the install disc for my old version of Finale, installing it at work for use on lunch breaks or other calm moments couldn't happen.

These gifts solve everything. The laptop and software give me the freedom to pop open my music anytime I have a spare moment or inspiration, and the ability to compose and arrange wherever I can find the peace and time to think.

I got started the day the Finale disc arrived by starting an arrangement of "Rainbow Connection", a long-time favorite of mine, which a few of you have heard by now (if you'd like an MP3 of it, I'd be more than happy to e-mail it to you for your opinions). I was so excited about these gifts that the ideas started pouring out faster than I could enter them! In the end, I have an absolutely SWEET arrangement that I'm hoping to get my quartet to do in the next month or so. (The quartet situation will be my next blog)

I'm grateful for everything I get, from a simple MySpace comment, to a card, to $1 million! In the end, especially this year, I'm grateful for the gift of loving friends and family…

…but damn, having a laptop is sweet!!

Next: More life updates, and "Coda Honor 1.5?!"