The Haasienda on Shroyer…

Years ago, when I was mentored by Mr. Joshua Logan, he often spoke of his favorite scenic and lighting designer, Jo Mielzeiner. Apparently, this was the genius who laid a marvelous foundation for scenic and lighting designers to come.

For the first half of my directing career, which began in 1984, I paid little attention to the lighting. I only knew if it worked, or didn’t work. I wholly trusted my designers, and gave them free reign.

In 1996, I directed a wonderful production of West Side Story. I was working with a brand new lighting designer, Timothy Guth.

At our first meeting, Tim asked me what I wanted. I assured him that he had my complete trust. Tim leaned in, across the table, and said, “thank you. But tell me your vision and how you want the lighting to fit in with that vision.”

No lighting designer had ever held me accountable. The professionals with whom I worked simply went about their business. However, Tim was emphatic that we were to work closely together as director and lighting designer.

And, boy did we ever work together.

For my next 16 productions, Tim was my lighting designer.

In 2009, I was encouraged by several professional friends to consider a recent high school graduate for my lighting designer of South Pacific.

Since I’d been to numerous Centerville high school theater productions, I was not the least bit apprehensive about forging a new director – lighting designer relationship with Jackson Gallagher.

Jackson, and one of his successors, David Corson, who is now a lighting design student at the Cincinnati Conservatory of music, continued to impress, expand, and excite me about lighting design.

In the early 1990s, I took some theater courses at Sinclair community college in order to gain further understanding about technical theater. One of the best experiences of that venture was meeting technical director and scenic designer, Terry Stump.

Those days at Sinclair were truly my formative years as a stronger director. I learned more about the other components of a production, supplementing the solid foundation received from Mr. Logan.

I’ve been blessed with so many other important figures – choreographers, other scenic and lighting designers, costumers, props people, stage managers and house managers; however, Terry Stump and Joshua Logan are probably the two most important people in my theater training with a younger generation of Jackson Gallagher, David Corson, Tyson Miller and scenic designer, Adam Koch continuing to inspire me.

When I lived in Indiana, one of my favorite summer events was attending the Indiana State Fair.

One particular exhibit captivated me.  The Hook’s Drug Store Museum.

As a boy, I often went to Elwood’s Hook’s Drug Store with my mother.  The pharmacy area was several steps up from the main floor, and had a somewhat imposing appearance.  However, two kindly faces I dearly remember from my youth always smiled down from the raised apothecary:  Jim Cole and Dixie Reynolds.

I can still hear Jim’s gentle voice calling out, “Hey, Fella.  You helping your mother, today?” I would later know Jim, and his wife, Beth, more as I traveled through school and marching band with their children.

I don’t recall if Dixie was a pharmacist’s assistant, but I often recall seeing her in the area.

There was a distinct, penetrating smell that bit the nostrils a bit.  I do not recognize it today when I visit my pharmacy, but it remains vivid in my nose’s memory!

The Hook’s Museum was filled with the history of earlier pharmacies, but also yielded special treats – sodas, candy from an earlier era, and souvenirs.

This morning, an on-line conversation sparked my fond memories of a childhood haunt, and the warm, caring pharmacist who served as a model for what I now expect from a pharmacist.

Photographs on this blog post are courtesy of Ohio Northern University.

For the past twenty years I’ve been acquainted with Ohio Northern University’s theatre and music program, I’ve never been let down, once.

ZOMBIE PROM could have been the first.

Since September, I’ve been impressed by DANCING AT LUGHNASA and the Ohio Northern Symphony Orchestra’s DISNEY’S MAGIC OF THE MOVIES.  The evening before I attended ZOMBIE PROM, I saw WAR HORSE at Dayton’s Schuster Center.

I had every reason to be let down during Saturday’s matinee.

On the contrary, I had a great time with this relatively unknown musical that mimics a horrible 1950’s B-movie.  The musical is designed with tremendous energy, and the strong direction and cast did not abandon the writers’ prescription.

The basic plot yearned to capture CARRIE, LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS and other musicalized cult classics.  The premise was predictable, the tunes catchy, and the production exceptionally strong.

The cast, under the consistent, energized direction of Thomas Ridgely, was a strong, capable ensemble of ten.  Considering the fact that several very fine actresses had committed to DANCING AT LUGHNASA the previous month, the cast of ZOMBIE PROM certainly was not a second-string cast as one might guess.

The ensemble, during the Saturday matinee, doled out tight vocals and an energy that was exhausting.  Sitting in the smaller, black-box theatre was an excellent venue to keep the audience’s energy in tact with the casts’.

Actress Kayla Burress was exceptionally strong, and terribly hilarious as the principal, Miss Delilah Strict.  I always found myself eager for her to return to the stage.  The young actor playing the zombie was, perhaps, the weaker member of the cast.  Vocally, he was often straining, and by show’s end was a tad raspy.  Timothy Swaim, excellently cast as the newspaper reporter to break the zombie story, created many fine comedic moments, but none as much fun as when paired with Kayla Burress.  They were always full of steam!

The orchestra, perched on an overhead mezzanine, added to the main floor’s energy, and was not overpowering in the small confines of the black-box.

For me, the real winners for the production were the set design/execution, and the lighting design.

Since a friend of mine works in the scene shop, I receive tidbits of production preparation.  This set design was adorable, and perfect touch for the smaller space.   Daniel George is becoming one of my favorite designers, ranked closely with my heroes, Terry Stump of Sinclair Community College, Mike Cordonnier of Centerville High School, and Adam Koch of New York City, formerly Oakwood, Ohio.  This production requires numerous set changes, and the use of various scenic pieces to create the illusion of the varied locations was masterful!  The set changes, often incorporated into the choreography, never once stalled the energy of the production.

Another winner for this tightly designed production was the lighting.  Junior theatre and history major, Tyson Miller, is another young lighting designer I wish to keep an eye on, along with Centerville High School graduates, Jackson Gallagher and David Corson.  The lighting design was as energetic as the production itself, and I cannot even begin to imagine just how many cues were called.  Tyson’s design enhanced every inch of this production without being obtrusive.  I only noticed it because… well, it’s my thing.

ZOMBIE PROM was fun.  It was a delightful romp leading into Halloween!

When I first learned the play, WAR HORSE, was coming to Dayton, I was determined to see it.  

Early September, I learned there was a special deal with seats for $10 each.  I immediately purchased three. 

By October, the excitement was mounting.  Tuesday, October 22, the puppet, Joey, the true star of the show, was brought out to the public in front of the Schuster Center.  My friend, Suzanne, and I played a bit of hooky from school during our lunch/prep hour, and hurried downtown for this event.  

Incredible!

One of Joey’s gave a wonderful description of how Joey is handled.  He was so life-like that I honestly kept forgetting I was watching a puppet.

Friday evening, I ventured into the Schuster’s theatre, and settled into my seat with my newly acquired companions, Melissa Hahm and Jacob Nickel.  For the next two hours, I was riveted to the stage. 

The story was quite similar to the movie I’d seen a year or so before.  Compelling.

The scenic design blew me away.  The puppets, the actors incorporated into the pieces of scenery, the projections.  All breath-taking.  A new world was opened for me in technical theatre.

The cast.  Excellent.

Joey.  

Joey was not a puppet.  Joey was not even a horse in a story.  Joey quickly became my Flyer, Logan, Navi and Chief… my own beloved pets.

WAR HORSE has had a tremendous impact on me, both personally, and professionally.  It has been one of the best theatrical experiences in my life.

The Queen meets Joey

My entire life, I’ve always loved hugs. Nothing has changed at age 49.

I love sharing hugs. I love when others share their hugs with me. I especially love surprise hugs from those whom I least expect them.

I grew up in a demonstrative family. Several hugs a day was perfectly natural. There were hugs upon wakening, and there were hugs before going to bed. And there were multiple hugs in between.

My mother’s side of the family was unanimous in offering hugs. However, my birth father’s family was not as demonstrative. It was not until Mother and my Aunt Lois came into the family that hugging became the norm.

Happily, today, all the cousins on that side of the family are tremendous huggers.

My sons, and all their friends, knew to expect hugs in our home. And the same rule applied as when I was a child: hugs before leaving for school, hugs before going to bed, and several in between.

In college, I fell in love with the books by Leo Buscaglia. He was a motivator, and an incredible author. I sent him a thank you letter for writing his books, and a penpal relationship was soon established. He often discussed the importance of hugging and being hugged.

I always love receiving hugs from my mother, but I would have to say that the two best huggers in my life were my Grandma Donna, and my directing mentor, Joshua Logan.

My grandmother’s generous hugs were filled with kisses, multiple squeezes, and tons of love.

Mr. Logan hugged like a bear! He grabbed you with a great deal of might, and embraced you to the point you felt your bones would crush. The man’s passion and joy for life were always felt in these nor-crushing hugs.

Now, I give those bone-crushing jugs!

Scientists believe hugs are healthy and kicks in the endorphins. I don’t know all the particulars but I do know I feel tons better when I’ve been hugged.

Share your hugs freely, and collect as many as you can.

Magic.

Music.

When you combine these two you always experience something incredible.

Last night’s concert with the Ohio Northern University Symphony Orchestra, featuring classic motion picture scores from Disney Studios, was outstanding!  I don’t think anyone could have left this production not feeling the magic, and humming the melodies.

This neatly packed Disney offering for orchestra included a generous multimedia presentation to accompany the selections, and four vocalists: Candice Nicole, Whitney Claire Kaufman, Andrew Johnson, and Dennis Kyle.

The multimedia’s visual accompaniment included scenes from the motion picture classics, often synced with the music.  There were also photographs of original story boards and animation cells.  The visuals greatly augmented the music, but quite honestly, the orchestra and vocalists could have easily sufficed.

The vocalists, for the most part, were very good, but very calculated in the theme-park/cruise ship performance style.  However, they did not fall short of entertaining the enthusiastic, appreciative audience.  Whitney Claire Kaufman, for me, stood out as the most 3-D talent of the quartet.  Her energy seemed to reach out, pulling us even closer to the magic of Disney.

The full musical buffet highlighted a wide variety of classics.  The orchestral suites included: THE LITTLE MERMAID, BEAUTY & THE BEAST, MARY POPPINS, THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME, ALADDIN, THE LION KING.  Individual selections of “Colors of the Wind” and “I Wanna Be Like You” were nice little insertions.

There were three outstanding moments in this orchestral production: “Disney Classics Overture”, “Pirates of the Caribbean Suite”, and “It’s A Small World.”

I loved “Classics” and “Pirates” because they were solely the ONUSO’s presentation.  This exceptional collegiate ensemble, under the expert, energetic baton of Lloyd Butler, soared.  I prefer the sound of this orchestra because it tends to remain true to the colors prescribed in the scores.  Many orchestras maintain a consistent bright, or dark timbre, due to the taste of the conductor.  Mr. Butler, also quite skilled in the musical theatre arena, wields a technicolor paintbrush to the canvas of sound, leading the student-musicians away from the black and white on the page.  “Classics” and “Pirates” demonstrated the full range of talent possessed by the ONUSO.

For me, this was the true magic of the evening!

The principal Disney composers/lyricists, Alan Menkin, Timothy Rice, Howard Ashman, Stephen Schwartz, and the legendary duo, The Sherman Brothers – Richard & Robert – were honored in this production, and as a musician/conductor, and lover of Disney music, I was quite touched by their enormous contributions to music that has both invigorated and inspired my career, and remained a staple throughout my life.

My neighbor, Brendan Rasor, a third year pharmacy student, and cellist with the ONUSO, asked, “What were your favorite moments?”

Well, the mentioned moments featuring the orchestra, as well as the suite from THE LION KING.  However, the ending feature was quite enjoyable.  

The quartet and orchestra led the audience in whistling and singing the cheerful strains of “It’s A Small World.”  This has always been a favorite.  After all, the song arrived at the 1964 World’s Fair – the same year I arrived.  And I heard someone behind me tell their child, “This song is 50 years old.”  Sigh….

Honestly, I loved it all.  It was refreshing.  It was Disney music and Disney magic – and the two always go hand in hand.

And the magic did not end when the concert-production concluded.  

As people left The Freed Center, a centerpiece jewel on Ohio Northern’s campus, people were whistling, humming and singing melodies as they strolled through the crowd toward parking.

The happiest place on earth, Saturday evening, October 19th, 2013, was undoubtedly Ohio Northern University.

Yikes!

A few stumbling blocks have already been encountered.

I let the dogs out to potty while I was in the shower, and when I got out I found they had brought a dead squirrel into the guest bedroom. Fortunately, my neighbor, Don, was home and came over and retrieved the dead squirrel.

I don’t do dead.

A short while ago, I got into the van to head to the bank to retrieve money from the ATM, and discovered the van would not start.

AAA is on their way to do whatever they need to do to get the van running again.

Hopefully, this will still get me to Findlay in time to see Beavercreek marching band perform at 7:15 PM.

I just hope it’s nothing major with the van – maybe it just needs a new battery.

A long, busy week came to an end about 4:30 PM this afternoon. I am all geared up for tomorrow.

9 AM – walk over to Lincoln Park Boulevard to take photographs of the Kettering 5K for hunger.

4 PM – leave for Findlay Ohio.

6 PM – arrive at Findlay universities stadium for the marching band contest.

7:15 PM – Beavercreek high school marching band takes the field in competition.

Beavercreek HS Marching Band 2013

7:30 PM – leave the stadium and change clothes in the van.

7:45 PM – head 21 miles to Ada Ohio.

8:15 PM – arrive at Ohio Northern University.

8:30 PM – the Ohio Northern University Symphony Orchestra performs an evening of Disney Classics.

I will probably return sometime after midnight.

I’m looking forward to a fun day of watching runners, watching marching bands, and listening to a fine Symphony Orchestra.

“The saddest people I’ve ever met in life are the ones who don’t care deeply about anything at all. Passion and satisfaction go hand in hand, and without them, any happiness is only temporary, because there’s nothing to make it last.”
― Nicholas Sparks, Dear John

Since childhood, I’ve always been passionate about music and American history.  Some might consider me a nerd.  Others, an eccentric.  And there are those who understand what Passion is all about.

“As if you were on fire from within. The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”
― Pablo Neruda

At the age of three, I was standing in the family pew mimicking the choir director.  Mother, even then, realized there was a spark there.  She taught me conducting patterns and would play Ray Coniff albums on our living room stereo so I could stand in front of the mirror and conduct.

By 7th grade, I knew I wanted to be the high school marching band’s drum-major.  Thus began two consistent years of working toward that goal.  My 8th grade year, I was the junior high’s band captain, and was invited to conduct a number in the Spring Concert using my own baton.

I don’t quite remember when my Passion for music began.  It was in the family.  Perhaps, it was genetic, as well as environmental.

“Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping… waiting… and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir… open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us… guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love… the clarity of hatred… the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we’d know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we’d be truly dead.”  ― Joss Whedon

When I began adopting my sons, none of them had any music in their backgrounds.  Each son was either in choir/show choir, or band/marching band/winter percussion.  I made sure I took a back seat to their decisions so any music participation would be on their own volition.  The minute they walked into the home as newly adopted sons, they were drenched in music.  Generally, they arrived home from school to find lessons already in progress.  Music filled the house, and quickly filled their souls.

“Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer.”   ― Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

My sons also received an abundant amount of American history.  My eldest son once remarked that I should have a bumper sticker reading, “I brake for historical markers.”

Funny?

True.

I’ve been known to take the next exit to turn around on an interstate or highway simply to return to some historical marker I’d passed.  Most of the signs for which I’ve returned have been of little significance.  However, I always wonder what I might have missed had I not turned around.

Mother, my grandparents and uncles nurtured my love for history, as did my teachers.  I lived for the month of February because we celebrated Lincoln’s birthday and Washington’s birthday separately.  There was no Presidents’ Day, then.

In fourth grade, I became aware that something was happening with presidential history.  Mother did not throw cold water on my interest in watching the sometimes dull, yet terribly fascinating Watergate Hearings.

“I’m already crazy. I’m a fearless person. I think it creeps up on you. I don’t think it can be stopped. If my destiny is to lose my mind because of fame, then that’s my destiny. But my passion still means more than anything.” ― Lady Gaga

I was one who was not as interested in playing outside.  I am not a fan of children and teens spending hours with video games, but I can understand their Passion for wishing to stay inside.  I preferred practicing piano, saxophone and conducting, or reading history, or drawing pictures or designing buildings (I considered architecture as a career).

Having great Passion is exciting.  It gives my life purpose.  It keeps me learning new and interesting things.  Passion keeps my soul refreshed, and my mind sharp.  

“A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke.”   ― Vincent van Gogh

I’ve tried to have Passion about everything in my life – except dusting and cleaning the kitchen.  I’ve learned to begin a Passion for cooking.  At 49, I believe it is important to maintain Passion – not just for music, theatre and history – but for new things I’ve not considered.  Thus, the reason for my LIVE OUT LOUD list for this upcoming year leading to my 50th birthday. 

Sometimes, having great Passion is difficult.  Finding those who share similar Passion is oft rare, and a bit frustrating.

There are those I am sure who believe me eccentric and odd because my Passions for music, theatre and history are peculiar.  But I look at those who’ve had a direct impact on my life: Joshua Logan and Fred Waring, and those who’ve inspired me: Walt Disney, The Wright Brothers, Abraham & Mary Lincoln, John & Abigail Adams, Harry Truman, Frank Lloyd Wright, Oscar Hammerstein II, Eleanor Roosevelt, Winston Churchill… they each had a great passion.  Many thought they were peculiar.

I am in great company.

“Passion is a feeling that tells you: this is the right thing to do. Nothing can stand in my way. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says. This feeling is so good that it cannot be ignored. I’m going to follow my bliss and act upon this glorious sensation of joy.”   ― Wayne W. Dyer

The other day, I inquired of a young friend about an upcoming concert, and received, what I believed to be a curt answer that nothing had changed since my last inquiry.

These are the moments when I sometimes wish my passions were not so great.  I always wish to know more about process (one of my other passions).  Many friends and colleagues who share similar passions don’t often understand my thirst for details, and my excitement for certain things.  This often sets me apart, and alone, from the crowd.

I will admit that when I am attending a concert, theatre production, or exploring a historical site, I am filled with child-like excitement.  My back seldom touches the back of a chair when music, or a theatrical moment stirs me.  When I become engaged in a discussion about my Passions, I become enthusiastic, and quite animated.

I am sure these pitfalls of my Passions can be irritating to those who must endure them, even if temporarily.

“Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passion, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence.”
― John Adams

Despite moments like this, I am still grateful, and feel blessed, I have Passion.  Passion has fueled my veins my entire life.

When I no longer have Passion, I pray my breath ceases, for life will be at its close.

“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me’.”        –Erma Bombeck

The day began with prospects of being delightfully sunny and cheery. By 10 AM this morning, all that had changed. It’s been an extremely dull gray, wet day here in the Miami Valley.

It appears that more rain may be moving in.

Despite the less than cheery weather, I hope that it will remain sunny and cheery the remainder of my teaching day which ends at 9 o’clock.

A few years back, my friend, Mary Tarlano, recommending a really neat place to hike. The Narrows.

I am assuming that it’s on Indian Riffle Rd. in Greene County, but I am not quite certain. All I know is that I headed east on Dorothy Lane, Driving for three or 4 miles into Greene County.

It really is a nice setting. Right now, I am walking by the river. For the life of me, I have no idea which river this is, but the signs say that it’s a river. It looks wide enough to be one, so I believe them.

When I entered, I had no idea which way to go so I just followed signs. I’ve climbed up and down a number of steep steps, and feel as though I’ve hiked a good 3 to 4 miles. However, the application on my cell phone indicates I’ve not even gone two miles at this writing.

I am quite taken with this scenic path along the river – a river that, right now, bears no name.

I truly love hiking through scenic places. Parks. Wooded trails. Lovely neighborhoods. Along waterways. I have all of this within a 5 to 10 mile radius from my home.

These walks seem to provide not only exercise, but mental and spiritual refreshment.

There are times when I would like to bring the dogs, but these walks are my time. When I have the dogs with me, I have to be in charge and continually look after them. These are my walks.

I really need to take some trips beyond the Miami Valley so I can hike in other venues with which I am not as familiar. One area that I would like to explore is the Rockcreek park on the western edge of Washington DC. I would also like to go hiking through the Great Smoky Mountains. I’ve added these two locations to my next live out loud list when I turn 55.

Between my birthday celebrations of age 50 and 55, I am also electing to choose one location to which I would love to travel. I will do four of these each year – one each quarter.

As I continue to walk along the riverbank, I can see why so many great artists, poets and composers are moved by nature. The inspiration for nature’s beauty is here for the visual artist. The inspiration for nature’s own words and meter are here for the poet. The inspiration for nature’s own symphony and chorus are here for the composer.

I hope others will take advantage of the nature around them. Even if it’s only through the grass, trees and flowers of one’s own yard, there is still beauty to be breathed and enjoyed.

Arthur: God be praised. We have a quest: to find the grail!   Sir Robin: The quail!  Arthur: No, the grail. The vessel used at the last supper.   Sir Robin: They had a boat at the last supper? Was it a sort of dinner cruise?   Sir Galahad: The grail is a cup.   Sir Robin: God the almighty and all-knowing has misplaced a cup?

If you logged into this post to bask in one of my motivational soapboxes, you’re on the wrong page.

Last night, for the first time, I saw the musical, SPAMALOT, based on the cult classic, MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL.

I’ve not seen the movie, but had a working knowledge.  I knew many of the songs, and the show’s premise, but was not completely aware of what was in store for me!

What a jolly good time!

The terribly talented cast of Sinclair Community College’s production, under the direction of Gina Kleesattel, was incredibly hilarious.  Skylar McNeely’s King Arthur had me rolling.  And Skylar’s court of fine merrymakers and bumbling fools balanced beautifully.

We were seated in the balcony (a very comfortable one) and at times, the orchestra overpowered the singers.  But, this is nothing new in musical theatre world.  Ken Kohlenberg, one of the Miami Valley’s finest conductors, led a “Don’t make me come down there” fifteen-piece orchestra, packed with some of Dayton’s finest musicians.  The vocals were strong, yet, there were times diction could have been more crisp during ensemble work.  Had I known the entire score, as with most productions I attend, I may not have noticed.

Patsy: I’m Jewish!  Arthur: What? Why didn’t you say so?  Patsy: Well… it’s not the sort of thing you say in front of a heavily armed christian.

Terry Stump, who has been one of my favorite scenic designers for twenty years, and it did not surprise me that I shook my head several times, as if to say, “Terry’s done it, again.”  Mr. Stump’s creativity, talent and great humor produced a fitting, witty and clever set!

Sinclair Community College is one of Dayton’s often best kept secrets.  For twenty years I’ve enjoyed attending – even appearing in – shows, and am never let down.  Wright State University, Sinclair Community College, and Cedarville University provide the Miami Valley with excellent theatre!

Arthur: But I thought you were a fairy.  Lady of the Lake: Oh no, that’s Lancelot.

Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

As a very small boy, I was raised with the sounds of the 1960’s.  My parents, still relatively young, loved all the pop music of that era, as did my uncles and cousins who were all nearly a decade older than me.

The Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra lit up the Schuster Center, Friday evening, with a rather moving tribute to the iconic 1960’s duo, Simon & Garfunkel.  I had been anticipating this concert for weeks, and it was worthy of the wait.

Don’t talk of love,
But I’ve heard the words before;
It’s sleeping in my memory.
I won’t disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

My neighbor, Brendan, a pharmacy major and cellist, joined me for this concert, his first return to the Schuster in several years.

We discussed the difference in audiences: certain super pops concerts yield an entirely different crop of attendees.  Brendan and I were on the younger side in the upper balcony, and probably the best dressed.

Tonight I’ll sing my songs again,
I’ll play the game and pretend.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought’s escaping,
Home where my music’s playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.

This is what I love about the Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra’s outreach: everyone is important!  Stuffy orchestra music, too often savored by the elite, can actually be approachable!

AJ Swearingn and Jonathan Beedle led the audience on a delightful journey, exploring both the music, and the lives of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel.  AJ & Jonathan were outstanding.  Several times I closed my eyes and just savored the delicate, soothing sounds wafting up to the balcony.

I’d only recently read up on the tumultuous working relationship of Simon & Garfunkel, and was saddened that their creative partnership was so short-lived.  I do find it remarkable they were capable of delivering an anthology beautifully descriptive of the swirling social tides of the 1960’s.

The DPO delivered.

AJ & Jonathan delivered.

I am glad was born in 1964.  I got to experience some of the most incredible rock music of that century.  And, what is more?  I am still experiencing that wonderful music today.

When times get rough
And friends just can’t be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.

I absolutely loathe ironing.

I would rather clean the bathroom toilet rather than iron a pair of pants or a dress shirt. Cleaning up dog tracks in the backyard is far more enjoyable, for me, then ironing clothes.

In fact, I rarely iron. I take my shirts out of the dryer, hang them up on a rod, and then spray them with water. It works and gets the job accomplished for me.

The day my mother and grandparents drove me to Ball State University, we stopped at a store and purchased a laundry basket, laundry detergent and an iron. For some reason, it did not phase me that I was beginning an entirely new adventure.

I grew up in an era, the 1960s and 1970s, when mothers still did a good deal of the housework. While growing up, I never had to do laundry nor iron.

After arriving at my dorm and getting everything settled, we took a tour of my floor. I can distinctly remember my mother pointing out this peculiar room, and saying what a nice [laundry] room it was. I think it was at that point I went into a tremendous shock. It’d not occurred to me that I would have to do my own laundry.

When the time came for me to venture into the laundry room on my own, I simply stood and watched what others did.

Clay Martin, an outstanding young man all around, was one of my heroes in college. Not only was he intellectually sharp, he was also always tremendously groomed and looked nice.

Clay always gave me a good deal of advice with laundry. However, I could never get the ironing technique down quite right.

One day, Clay walked to the laundry room to show me how to iron. He quickly discovered why my clothes would tend to become more wrinkled after ironing than coming straight out of the dryer.

I was not putting any water in the steam iron.

I don’t know how I have survived this long still not knowing how to iron properly. I only do it when it is necessary, and fortunately for me, it only occurs a few times throughout the year.

When it is time to iron, it is generally for an important occasion: a wedding, a funeral, a show choir invitational when I am judging, or concerts at the Schuster Center. I tend to get worked up into an aggravated emotional state while ironing, and I’m often reduced to teeth chattering idiocy.

Today is no different.

I woke up a bit on the grumpy side, and I now wonder if it was because I knew I would be ironing this afternoon. I am even more grumpier now than I was at 7 AM. I just spent 30 minutes trying to iron a dress shirt and slacks for tonight. The experience was less than satisfactory, and the results seem to be even greater.

I think it is time for me to head outside to mow the front yard. Generally, it is always a positive result when I finish mowing and blowing the leaves.

And hopefully, this will eliminate some of my current stress from trying to be an Ironman.

It’s been a productive, yet mundane week.  There were many great moments during lessons, but little else happened this week.

The highlight of my week was searching for a dress shirt.  The second highlight will be ironing my shirt and slacks tomorrow morning.

Friday evening, my neighbor boy, a 3rd year pharmacy student, will join me for a Tribute to Simon & Garfunkel with the Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra.

Saturday, I hope to head out with my camera during the day.

Saturday evening, Joshua and Bryan will drive over from Columbus to join me for dinner – a birthday celebration for Joshua – and then on to Sinclair Community College’s production of SPAMALOT.  I’ve not seen this musical comedy, and am looking forward to it.

I am hoping for good weather during most of Sunday as I am sure my camera will be clicking away.

I am looking forward to spending time with dear folks, and enjoying music and theatre.

It was only about three months ago that I was experiencing the horrors of shopping for new clothes for a former student’s wedding.

Once upon a time I enjoyed dressing up, and always looking my best. Now, however, my main goal is just to look nice and pray that everything matches and coordinates properly. Fortunately, I am not forced to dress up all that much throughout the year.

This Friday, a friend and I are attending a Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra concert featuring the music of Simon and Garfunkel. My friend, who is younger, and prone to more dapper dressing then I, has already been laboring on what to wear for the past week.

It’s Wednesday, and two days before the concert. I am finally kicking it into gear and actually attempting to select my attire ahead of time.

Normally, I walk to my closet an hour before I am supposed to leave and endure this terrific episode of trying to figure out what to wear. My concert companion informed me that I was not to wait until the last minute if I was needing any advice, or assistance in selecting what I am to wear.

Thus begins today’s efforts in building my selections for Friday evening.

I went through my closet and selected three shirts that are doable, but not terribly snazzy. At this time, my plan is to wear navy blue slacks. But God knows that could change.

I truly envy, but admire those who know exactly what they are doing with clothing. I am sure I am probably making this far more complicated than it is; but, I truly despise shopping for clothes.

Going into a store and searching through racks of clothes is my own personal Amityville Horror.

Friday, I will head down to the Schuster Center to see a Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra’s superpop concert featuring the music of Simon & Garfunkel.  I grew up with their music, and am still a huge fan of their work!

There were no histrionics, no macabre costumes or makeup, no burning or smashing of instruments. There were only the songs that one of them wrote and both performed together for over a decade. They were a duo known as Simon & Garfunkel. One might argue that the songs Paul Simon wrote became a soundtrack for America in the 1960s. The songs, including such hits as “A Hazy Shade of Winter,” “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” “Cecilia,” “Homeward Bound,” “I Am a Rock,” “Mrs. Robinson,” “The Boxer,” and “The Sound of Silence” earned the duo a ranking of 40th on Rolling Stone’s list of the 100 greatest artists of all time and induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

In “Sounds of Simon & Garfunkel,” AJ Swearingen and Jonathan Beedle bring the music of this dynamic musical duo to the stage of the Schuster Center.

AJ and Jonathan have been performing this remarkable tribute to the music of Simon & Garfunkel for more than a decade, and the enjoyable effect on their audiences is undeniable. A chance meeting in 1991 in a local club in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania brought these two talented artists together. Not long after a brief introduction, they were blending their voices as if they had been performing together for a lifetime. AJ’s warm baritone and Jonathan’s soaring tenor combine flawlessly to capture the essence and magic of Simon & Garfunkel’s sound of the early years in Greenwich Village.

It was a chilly, rather brisk walk this morning. When we left the house at 7:20 AM, it was very dark. Within 15 minutes the sun was beginning to shine over the pond at Lincoln Park.

As we walked down the sidewalk past the Government Center, heading toward the intersection of Shroyer Road in Lincoln Park Boulevard, I suddenly became aware of bright lights coming from behind. With some of the craziness I had experienced with drivers last week, I figured one was barreling down the sidewalk behind us.

To my delight, I turned to see the sun blasting away it’s brilliance in the V-shaped opening of trees on the eastern lane of Lincoln Park Boulevard.

The golden rays, which have been absent since last Thursday, were quite a welcome sight. While dark rain clouds moved in from the west, rather rapidly, I wondered which would win this particular battle.

Sadly, the rain clouds began shrouding the gorgeous glow. However, I know the sun shall return within a few days.

Somehow, I missed a tumultuous amount of posts regarding the passing of a very dear friend.

Robb Holmes and I met back in 1998 through my friend, Ingrid Malson.  From the start, it was a friendship of great humor and practical jokes, thorough and lengthy discussions of faith, spirituality and philosophy, and fun times dining and traveling.

We both loved THE SOUND OF MUSIC, and he honored me by coming to each performance when I directed the 40th anniversary of the Broadway premiere in 1999.  That summer, Robb traveled with me to Stowe, Vermont to meet the surviving von Trapp children, and to research the family.  Robb fittingly purchased a bouquet of flowers, and encouraged me to lay them on the graves of Captain Georg & Maria von Trapp.

One of my favorite trips was to the Smokey Mountains with Robb, and my Ball State friend, Andrea.  I don’t think there was ever so much laughing, to and from Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, as well as during our visit.  Ever the comedian and performer, Robb had no qualms about walking right up to Dolly Parton, during our simultaneous visit to Dollywood, to chat with her.

When I began adopting my sons a few years later, Robb had moved and we fell out of touch.

In 2009, Robb and I reconnected via MySpace, a year or so later on Facebook.  Within a few weeks, my son and his daughter were also friends.  Robb and I secretly hoped our teenagers might fall in love and marry.  We loved joking that we could be the most fun fathers-in-law in all history.

A day or so after my birthday last week, I was looking through the greetings, and noticed I had not received my annual greeting from Robb.  As I began to pull up his Facebook page, someone knocked at the door, and I completely forgot my original task.

Robb with his daughter, Mishayla.

This is kind of a sad morning, but I find myself chuckling over so many moments we shared that were always fun-filled, adventurous, and memorable.  When I was experiencing, and enduring harassment from a minister at the church where I served as director of music, Rev. Robb (yes, he was a minister), provided valuable guidance.  He always had a unique perspective, and approach to life that was invigorating, and practical.

A beautiful light has gone from this world, but the brilliance of its glow will always burn, somewhere… somehow.

Thank you, Robb, for being a loving friend, and confidant, and for always reminding me to laugh.

Auf wiedersehen, Robb… until we meet, again…

I’ve seen this documentary before.  The Victoria Association posted this today:

We’re so excited to start our 2013-2014 Premier Health Broadway Series with WAR HORSE, we’ve galloped on to television! You can watch the very special, behind-the-scenes documentary “Making War Horse” on ThinkTV 16.1 on Saturday, Oct. 5 at 8 p.m. and again on Sunday, Oct. 6 at 8 p.m. and Tuesday, Oct. 8 at 1 p.m. on ThinkTV 16.2 (16Again). You can also catch the WAR HORSE sizzle reel on Time Warner Cable’s Video on Demand. Check your local listings!

It is nearing 9:30 AM and I have accomplished very little this morning. In fact, my mornings are running a tad bit late since we have been meeting Marcus and Maggie in the park each morning.

But, she is so doggone cute, and Navi and Chief really like her. Chief, especially, is taken with Maggie. Chief will laydown and play with her, but Navi is still a little distant.

This morning, Maggie discovered a new game: She began playing with our blue leash, and then began walking away with it. The funny thing is, my dogs simply followed her around. I figured there would be a tug-of-war between the three dogs, but this seemed to be a satisfying game for all three.

I had hoped to spend all morning writing, but I have to run to the post office and then mow the front yard. Today is one of my longer days of teaching – 2 PM until 9:45 PM. It looks like writing will be taking a backseat today.

But isn’t Maggie worth it?

For the second time this month I have attended a cross country meet. Saturday, I had 21 students running, representing middle schools and high schools from six different districts throughout the Miami Valley.

Beavercreek high school freshman, Matt Gregson, competing in open varsity, led the entire 2 mile course with a substantial lead in front of the pack. However, about the last 75 feet, a runner seemed to come out of nowhere and clip right past Matt, moving him into second place. Still, what a great finish with 200 others behind them.

What I love most about the cross country meets is the behavior and enthusiasm from the spectators. I also love how we are not sardined in stands just watching. At a cross country meet, the spectators are often running to various points to continue cheering on the runners. I absolutely love this.

The best part is that, unlike football games, or even basketball and baseball, we don’t have screaming and jeering at players when they mess up. That is one thing I simply cannot tolerate. Observing Neanderthals in plumber’s pants standing up to scream at players on a field makes me nauseous. I’d prefer to see their butts down on the field attempting to do the same thing these young athletes are doing.

In cross country, and this is perhaps due to the nature of the sport, it is nothing but encouragement and positivity. I really respect, appreciate and love being around this kind of spectator.

I am really beginning to love cross country.

Yesterday, I read a blog posted by my friend, Jeff Carter, where he listed things that made him happy.  One line: “scrambled eggs always taste better with cheese.”

This morning, I made scrambled eggs, added mild cheddar, and am pleased with the results.  Yes, they did add a measure of happiness to my morning.

Whenever I have scrambled eggs, I always think of Eleanor Roosevelt.  Mrs. Roosevelt could only make scrambled eggs – nothing else.  During her White House tenure, Mrs. Roosevelt would ‘collect’ people to bring to the White House dinner table, and it did not matter if she knew them, or not.  She always wanted to hear what others were thinking, and experiencing.

Sunday evenings, on the second floor of the White House’s West Hall, Mrs. Roosevelt would stand at the head of the table with a chafing dish, making scrambled eggs.  Lining the sides of the table was an assortment of personalities – people who would offer ideas on topics she proposed.

Mrs. Roosevelt began calling these Sunday evening White House dinners, “Scrambled Eggs with Brains.”

Since I was doing a great deal of thinking this morning while working and eating my scrambled eggs, I believe I can also call my breakfast, “scrambled eggs with brains.”

By 8:30 AM, Friday morning, I was hiking through Grant nature center. For most of that hike I was accompanied by two deer that dove in and out of the woods and across my trail.

This evening, after walking the dogs and giving them their evening meal, I scurried over to Yellow Springs, Ohio, to photograph the sunflower field. It is nothing but an ocean of yellow

Farmers were combining beans in fields of dust that veiled the burning sunset.

I strolled through the quaint, charming village of Yellow Springs, taking numerous photographs. Many people were dining alfresco, enjoying the last trails of summer. I loved the wide assortment of individuals represented, enjoying this beautiful evening in the village.

This entire evening felt as though I was wrapped in an oil painting of many lush colors, and tender, extreme beauty.