Memphis - Turn, Turn, Turn

green, green blues city
that humidity's got to
be good for something


In the past week, I've been in Denver, El Paso, my hometown Silver City, NM, Tucson, Phoenix, Atlanta (just flying through), and now Memphis for a week. I think I'm going to like it here.

First time to Memphis, I told the cab driver. She was delighted, in a slow, drawly way, and asked me what I'd heard about Memphis. Well, BBQ, blues, and Graceland, I replied, all of which I hope to experience while I'm here.

The first thing I noticed about Memphis was how green it is compared to the Sonora Desert I had left the night before. Then I noticed how friendly everyone is (you can take the girl out of New York...), and then I noticed how I wanted to take my jeans off after a few minutes walking in the midafternoon sun down Beale St. You can wear jeans in 100-degree dry heat; 100-degree humidity, not so comfortable.

Lately, it's been a time to do things other than learn new songs. It's been a time to celebrate marriages, travel, see family, focus on music that's more directly related to work. Turn, turn, turn. I do it when I can (when I have access to a keyboard) and when I need to (when my family is driving me bananas and I need a little music meditation).

Last week:
"We Are the Champions" (who'd have thought an anthem such as this would have diminished chords?! I love you, Freddie Mercury!)

"Turn, Turn, Turn" - because I was contemplating all the things I want to do w/ my life, and how I just can't do them all at once. Thanks for the wee taste of changing meter, Pete Seeger. Turn, turn, turn indeed.

Delays and Distractions

Someone put this on facebook a while back. Sometimes fiction is so truthful.

A day bookended by travel delays: This morning rush hour, I was stuck in the bowels of the subway system for almost an hour on a train that couldn't proceed because a safety barrier was stuck.  We ended up having to go backwards a few hundred feet to get on another track.  My favorite part of the ordeal (I mean, what's not to like?) was when people in my car broke into weary laughter when the train operator announced, "The train. Is about. To mooooove!"  Someone shouted "Margaritas!"

As a self-employed contractor who relies on public transit in a city that would be crippled by traffic if the proletariat commuted above ground with the bourgeoisie, I have a lot to say on this subject, but for now I will confine myself to a haiku:

service cuts, delays
as infrastructure crumbles
my small business dies

Now my cousin is waiting for her delayed flight from San Francisco. She won't be landing here until well after midnight, which will be interesting for both of us when I have to leave tomorrow before 8 a.m..  Guess I'll draw her a little map to my neighborhood cafe, so she doesn't have to wake up at 5 a.m. her time.  By the way, who does HOMEWORK at a CAFE on their first trip to New York?  Apparently the addiction to workahol runs in the family.

Speaking of which, after a break which included the most amazing 15-min chair massage EVER and far too many fritos, it's time to get some work done so I can present my cousin with a bowl of chili and a clean(ish) apartment when she finally arrives.  On the agenda:
*run through rep I'm going to play for my teacher tomorrow at our approx-monthly lesson
*plan workshop I'm co-teaching tomorrow morning
*transcribe more Ray (try to get up through the sax solo)
If I stay away from Fritos, the internet, and other distractions, it should take about 3 hours.  So let's be real and say 4.  Which I know is a fairly accurate estimate, since it doesn't involve the New York City subway.