The Treehouse

Well so much for that plan. Thought I'd be in Dublin by Wednesday afternoon to enjoy a delicious cold pint with my girl Fleachta, sort out some immigration details about extending my stay, play a little dulcimer with Roisin and Barry (and possibly Nikki, wherever she may be)... Thought I'd be having all sorts of happy reunions with all the crazy kids in Cork, the frisbee league, the stuffy and the not-so-stuffy academics, Raar (man I miss you guys!!)... But now the whole thing is being postponed on account of my ass. I'll spare y'all the gory details, but let's just say the surgeon advises me not to be travelling for the next 3 weeks. Hopefully that won't prevent me from heading up to NYC for some mbira workshops next week!! I certainly do find a way of making the best of everything, don't I?

Got an email from Zena today pointing out that just exactly one year ago, we were all starting classes in Cork. A one-year anniversary for The Group! Makes me think about how different things will be in Cork without them. No Tom zippin' around in his yellow sneakers and his yellow rain jacket, no Elin and Jonas sauntering down the road like Tweedledee and Tweedledum, no Marcus to stop by everyday on his way home from class to play playstation, and no Zena for my occasional dose of arts and crafts and a constant ear for all of my triumphs and woes. Truly an era of greatness. I don't think anyone will dispute that.

Ow. My butt hurts.

Another fine evening in the hot tub drinkin' beers with my favourite brother-in-law, Joe. He asks me, "Do you know anyone in Ireland with a hot tub?" Grr. No.
I'm feeling really scattered about my life at the moment. For one thing, my stuff is everywhere. Some in this room, some in that room, some in a drawer in a kitchen in Cork, some being kept by Pat wherever the heck he's living now. I seriously don't have a clue of where I belong right now, and I'm hoping that things get clearer once I get back to Cork, but it's possible they won't. And it's hard to stay focused on all the good reasons why I'm going back, when I really just want to lay down and go to sleep.
I keep allowing myself to get lost in the music Aaron sent me home with. That feels good. Even though it's frustrating that I won't be able to see him for a long time. I'd like to believe that there's some serious musical collaboration is in our future. Of course, it's not as though he's in need of a dulcimer player, so I'll have to be more clever than that.
Going to North Jersey today to teach a 2-hour music lesson to some high school students. That oughta be interesting. Can I yack about music for 2 hours straight? Yes, yes i can. And keep it interesting? Hope so!

My oh my, what a treasure it is to be this close to NYC, if only for a little while. Fate finally completed another one of her twisted loops through me tonight. Finally met Aaron face to face, which turned out to be very very cool. Let's get this straight. Elin and Jonas found his photo on the 'net by accident while looking for a photo of me... Laughed at the thought of using this other photo in place of me, since it bore such a resemblance anyway. So, curious me, I look up this guy's site, find a dulcimer-playin' electronica boy, start a bit of an email correspondence with him, which carries over into my time in the states, he and I scramble to find time to hang together, and tonight was it! And I am SO glad it happened! What a beautiful person, and what beautiful music. I'm rich! I'm rich!! Overall, it's just really great to meet another person who's in love with the dulcimer like I am... Great to hear it in a way I'm not used to... Aaron seems to have picked up where Mecca Bodega left off before they got weird. His dulcimer lines are like balloons tied to these heavy cement bricks of beats, and then once in a while, even the bricks lift up and float past... He's sort of a magicman.. Or at least to someone like me who really sees the computer as an instrument.
I must not neglect to mention that Butch was my partner in adventure this evening, from wiggling our way into the city (and into a free parking spot, right where we needed it), another killer Garmarna show, to driving circles around Tompkins Square Park for the free internet access in the car, out to Brooklyn, a quick rendezvous with a theremin player (ooh, life's gettin' good now!) and then out to Aaron's to play with all of his toys... A fantastic farewell, Butch! Perfectly memorable, just like every single other time I've ever seen ya...

Reading all the updates on Butch's site reminded me of just how behind I am in writing, so here's a little catch-up. Last Thursday, drove out to Gettysburg, PA, with pop to visit his old friend and his old friend's new wife. Great lookin' place, but I'm still pretty sure I wouldn't want to live in a place that's wedged between a Civil War battlefield and a modern presidential mountain hideout. Left there on Friday to drive down to Shepherdstown, just in time for all the festivitation that was about to transpire there. It absolutely made my weekend to see Rich Carty. Way cool of Tommo to make the long drive (just to take a couple of dulcimer lessons?!). Wonderful as always to see Captain Cynical (Adam "you can stay here but your dulcimer sleeps outside" Weisberg) Of course, the ol' Cork crew were all there, I noticed a direct attempt by Kim Murley to make friends in the last minute (well done, Kim, we'll be in touch!), and if it weren't for Steve Schnooder, I wouldn't have this 4-pound block of bittersweet baking chocolate. I'll have to admit to a certain liking towards a certain groovin' bass player we saw on saturday night, and if Harmonia didn't blow our stockings off, I'm Abraham Lincoln and I'm on my way to Gettysburg.

All this travellin' around the world and then coming home to visit stuff is really making me resent growing up in the suburbs. I feel like of this whole time I've been home, I've spent half of it noticing all the things I don't like about the suburbs, and half of it trying to notice its charm. But the only conclusion I've reached is that the suburbs are certainly best enjoyed on a bicycle, and just as well, since I do my best thinking there anyhow. Today's short ride helped clear my head of all the pollutants Gramma blew in my ear yesterday. Notions of furniture that's too big, music that lacks talent, ungraceful 5-year-olds, birthday dinners without birthday cakes, mothers who don't keep a clean house, sisters who don't bend over backwards to kiss ass, ungrateful brothers-in-law, my unkempt hairdo and bedroom, a father who won't listen, my waste of time and money on this stuff that isn't really music.... Ugh. So she's gone again, and we all wonder when will be the last time we see her. 91 years doesn't seem to leave a lot of room left for "good riddens".. But she really beats the shit out of us when she visits. I used to be stubborn and intolerant, but now I'm just seeing that she's just plain mean. I'd be blessed to live as long as she as, and even half as well, but goodness, I hope I never treat my family that way.

Despite the fact that I just admitted to being on a type of "demolition derby" with several relationships in the near past, I must say that I'm awfully glad that Adam has stuck around. Real good to see that guy, good to sit on his floor and listen to whatever, good to talk about families music experiences growing up getting busy... Thanks for the offer of the happy stuff, but man, I was already damn happy to be there with ya.

Busy. That's what I've been. So busy that this is literally the very first chance I've gotten to blog in a while.. And golly, lots has happened since the last one. Last tuesday Mr. Burns and I took Ted and Jena out on the Batsto river for some quality South Jersey canoeing. Then up early wednesday morning to hop on the train to Brattleboro. Was greeted there by Ethan and his car-load of fresh basil. We spent the evening making pesto and canning peaches. Everything else in Brattleboro was just tunes tunes tunes and some very excellent conversation. Wouldn't fate have it that the only two people I've ever met from Vermont (and mind you, I met them completely independently of one another---one at Balkan camp in Mendocino, CA, in 2001, and the other at the Philly Folk Fest in Schwenksville, PA, 2002) just happen to be together now in Brattleboro... Fantastic stuff. Not to mention all the other things Anna and I have in common, from Malcolm Dalglish to contact improv, Balkan dance music, New England dance music...
But two days in Brattleboro was all I got, and then I was back in NJ to play tonight with 50 Brick Men, who really rock my world. Wojo, Marco, and CJ. Some fine performers, they. Pleasure to be on stage with ya.

New York City. People watchers' paradise. Had a really great quick day in the city today, catching up with Chris Provenzano, once a lowly ethnomusicology masters student at UCLA, and now an on-the-verge bigtime NYC lawyer livin' downtown in view of EVERYthing. The best parts of the day certainly included lunch at Zen Palate, the friendliest customer service at the mbira store, (tribal soundz), Chris's cuter-than-a-puppy roommate named Earl, Chris's rooftop view of tragedy past, and getting Chris to give me free illegal legal advice about my budding professional life. Kudos to you, Chris, for graduating from Columbia law and coming out lookin' as fine as yourself in your California days! Please remember me when you're rich, and when you're rich, remember that I love you very much and I deserve many very expensive gifts such as a fancy laptop and mbiras for all of my friends.

I think shit is the word in order. Shit for having such a fantastic weekend just 3 weeks before I'm splittin' town again, shit for knowing each other for 4 years and never getting around to finding out about each other until now, and shit, Steve, that was a beautiful weekend. With all due respect to all of the wonderful people out there who have shown me a good time in years past, I must say that I had the best date of my life last night. Beautiful man, bottle of wine, and a BIG stack of steamed crabs in front of us. 2 wooden mallets and some Old Bay was all it took... Oh yeah, and the fact that I really really really like him. You know, at first it seems he and I are on completely different paths. Brought up differently, different sets of priorities, different lifestyles... But at a better glance, I think we may actually be on one big wonderful path together--one dominated by learning and joy-spreading. But then again, I might just be getting all mushy because I had such a great weekend. Mmm. I'm all full of ocean salt and sand, and I like it that way.

Up all night. Watched dawn hit, and then finally called it. Deep-cleaning the bedroom, like some Nova excavation... The artifacts I'm uncovering are fantastic, and many worthy of the big white curbside bag. Way more shit than any one person should have trailing behind them. So, a lot of it is gone now, and a lot of it is still there, but maybe on a different shelf. My goal is to transform that room into the household escape room. A room full of music, maps, arts and crafts equipment, books, and a telephone. We'll see if I can get it back to its orginal glory of my teenage days, and then we'll hope the kids make good use of the space. There's a lot of energy in that room....

A fabulous piece from my most recent excuse to visit NYC, whose link (aaron) is also placed ever so conveniently just to the left. Find your dulcimer in another world.

And now... A poem by Wendell Berry, especially for Tommo.
I climb up through the thicket,
a bird's song somewhere within it,
the singer unfound within the song
resounding within itself and around
itself; it might come from anywhere,
from everywhere, the whole air
vibrant with it, every leaf a tongue.

Some days you're sitting at home and then all of a sudden three beautiful Irish girls show up! Great day! Flora, Sarah, and Fleachta very cleverly made Philly their first stop on their Greyhound bus tour of America. Thanks to Mr. Burns, we all got to see a real South Jersey diner, East River drive, West River Drive, the Whispering Wall (remember that place, Adam?), the Art Museum (complete with Rocky, well, sort of), William Penn's protrusion, a neighborhood in South Philly that Dad's rather biased towards (must be the cheesesteaks), and wrapped things up with a visit to Butch on South Street because I knew how grateful he'd be for me bringing 3 beautiful Irish women to his door.
The lasses are on to D.C. today, then to New Orleans for birthday madness, then goodness knows where. Have fun on that bus!!! The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round...