Easy. Wonderful. VIP.

Let's start with the obvious.  I love Guster.  This is why.

As most of you already know, I've recently gained a SWEET "in" with the band, as their newest member, the spectacular Luke Reynolds, happens to be my cousin-in law (his first cousin is married to my sister). So my initial freak out about the whole situation of being connected has passed, and now I'm just totally pumped that I've been able to meet Guster a couple times, when I tried my best not to act completely crazy because I was beyond stoked.  Was only partly successful, but I've gotten better now that I'm practiced at it. *Snooty*.

In addition to having rad music,  Guster also likes the Earth.  Their tour bus runs on Biofuel.  Adam, their bass/trumpet player and singer extraordinaire, and his wife started an organization called Reverb a few years ago. It's a super cool nonprofit that teams up with bands on tour and educates fans about sustainable living.  Reverb and Guster have helped lead the way in touring artists (Sheryl Crow! Maroon 5! Brett Dennen!) to promote sustainable living at shows, and do things like "Campus Consciousness" tours in which students can help out with promoting healthy living all around. I think it's really cool that they've used the popularity of music and power in crowds that come to shows for a good cause.  So, when I saw that Reverb was looking for volunteers for the Guster show in Baltimore, I did not hesitate to fill out the application online.  Three weeks later, I got a phone call from Reverb asking if I still wanted to volunteer!  Not only would I be able to help them out, but I also got a free pass to the show, and could bring a friend with me.  Perfecto!

So last night, my environmentally passionate cousin, who also happens to be a Guster fan, and I took Oliver on a ride to the hopping downtown of Baltimore.  We were greeted at the door with our passes and joined three college kids in setting up this tour's project, a collaboration with Brita and Filter for Good.  The campaign is about trying to reduce the consumption of plastic disposable water bottles, and encourage people to use safe and renewable canisters and drink filtered water.  As volunteers, it was our job to ask people to sign the pledge to reduce/eliminate their use of crappy plastic bottles, and if they signed the pledge, they got a free (and adorable) nalgene bottle (BPA free) already conveniently filled with filtered water.  And, we had a bunch of big Brita pitchers so people could come back and refill for free.  Who doesn't like free water?  Obviously nobody--the crowd was all over it.  Hey, you gotta hydrate when you're screaming your lungs off while singing along!

The first part of the night was spent tabling, which, I must admit, I have gotten pretty good at.  College clubs followed by an entire summer marketing at ADF trained me well--after a few minutes I've got my spiel and I'm not afraid to use it.  So though I'm a little tired of saying "would you like to sign our pledge to reduce the use of plastic disposable bottles?", I'm grateful that I could spiel for a good cause.  I also got to wear and keep a really nice Easy Wonderful/Reverb t-shirt that people were jealous of.  We also got to keep the giant, brand new, and green (literally) Brita pitchers, which will come in handy later.

Cousin & I, tabling masters:

P.S. you can sign the Filter for Good pledge and check out some other seriously cool things on their website, like how to recycle Brita filters, which I did not know you could do. <-- Totally voluntary promotion. I like the Earth, too.

Though we tabled through the opener--we couldn't quite see Good Old War from our table, but we could hear them, and they rocked.  Guster came on, and we got to go watch!  They obviously put on an INCREDIBLE show.  Probably one of the best I've seen. I'm telling you, I will never, ever, get sick of this.  It blows me away every time.  This would mark the eighth time I've seen them on stage (yeah ...), and I always enjoy it like it was that very first time I saw them six years ago in Buffalo. It also helped that we found a SWEET perch in the sold-out venue, in which I'm unsure if we were allowed.  It may or may not have been a special tickets section ... but nobody stopped us, so we lucked out.  Our view from the top center:

They are geniuses, hands down.  Also fun. Ah. So good.  They flowed into a cool remix of "Hang On" with a Billy Joel tune, and the band's percussionist, Brian "Thundergod" Rosenworcel, who was not graced with the gift of vocal accuracy, seranaded the audience with Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Under the Bridge."  I got a video on my camera but it's shaky because I couldn't stop laughing.  Today my voice is sore from screaming and my legs a little achy from the constant jamming, and I love it.

If the high from the amazing show wasn't enough, we got to top off our evening with a little VIP action.  After the show, our volunteer passes got us into the after party in the private bar/room at Ram's Head Live.  Yep, that means us + Guster + about 30 other fans/people with inside connections having a drink and mingling.  I got a chance to catch up with Luke and we basked in our gene pool, as we were a mish-mash of cousins up in there.  It was a family affair.  I also got to introduce myself to the rest of the band again, and have them autograph our Brita pitchers.  Brilliant, right?!  Adam was incredibly friendly and smiley, and so grateful we volunteered for Reverb.  He's also as handsome as ever.  Gosh, can't stop swooning.   Ryan scribbled a butterfly/bug on my pitcher, and a dead duck/turkey on my cousin's.  We're still trying to figure it out.   And I think my proudest moment was when we went over to say hey to Brian, before I had a chance to introduce myself, he looked at me and said, "you're Luke's cousin." Close enough.  Done, I'm in!

BFF's.

Gene pool.

Conclusion:  I'm friends with Guster. Luke is the coolest guy ever. I have a water pitcher that will be a valuable collectible someday.  Music. Happiness.

All gimmicks aside, I'm really just grateful that I am able to tell the band how much I appreciate them and their music.  Their songs represent so many happy things in my life and I had the chance to thank them in person, genuinely, for what they are doing.  In a world of superficial fans and materialistic rewards, the opportunity to appreciate great art at this level is the opportunity of a lifetime.

Onward to the next Guster adventure in August, when they're back in Baltimore (with Jack's Mannequin)! 

I don't even like whiskey

Yes, okay?!  Melissa, Lisa, and Nick--you can say 'I told you so' in celebration.  I am on board.   I am hesitant but honest to admit that I caught it.  That bug I have denied and avoided for years. It's bitten me:

The country music bug.

I know, I know.

Let me preface: I am an avid country line dancer.  Since I was 18, I spent pretty much every Thursday night at The Roost, a line dancing club in my hometown.  I lived for my Thursdays.  It's great fun, by the way-- I believe everyone should try it at least once.  Anyway, you, like many people who I tell about my country line dancing ways, may ask, "so you like country music?"  NO.

Why?  I could encompass all country music into 3 words: twang, tractors, whiskey.  I found it annoying to sit and listen to.  Dancing to it, to me, is much different.  Plus, after 4 years of dancing to lots of the same songs, I comfortably grew a like and anticipation for the songs I heard at The Roost.  But after 2am, the country tunes were out of my hearing range as much as possible.  Until, of course, my sister started enjoying it outside of our Thursdays and I lost the fight over radio control.  "Sacrifice your ears for just a few minutes!" she would tell me.  The worst was when she, my older sister, and I took a road trip through the farmlands of a sweltering Kentucky this summer.  The two of them, who were living their country gal fantasies, insisted on opening the windows and blasting the twangiest of country music as we whizzed past cornfields and silos against a setting sun.  I should add that said twangy tunes were pretty much all we could find on the radio out there.  It was that or Jesus music.  I was opting for Jesus (a first in life).

Fast forward.

Symptoms began when I started stopping at the country station programmed in the car, abandoned when my sister moved away, instead of skipping over it completely.
Then I started recognizing songs.

Oh hey, Taylor Swift.  Your sad country ballads are adorable and incredibly catchy.

Then, I moved DC and had to program my local stations as a first order of business. As I scanned the waves, I came across a country station--and programmed it immediately without even thinking about it.    

And today, on my way home from work, I pressed my 2 preset button and found myself singing along: "rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey, whiskey makes my baby feel a little frisky ...".  And I was enjoying myself.  In that moment, I knew that my days of denying country music were over.

Why am I still ashamed?  Not sure.  But I promise from this day on to no longer grimace when somebody tells me how much they like country music.  I guess, by all means, I am one of them now.  Just don't ask me to join you at a Rascal Flatts, etc. concert.  Yet.

One Saturday Morning

I got my first piece of mail at my new address!  I love it because in addition to the fact that it's from my loverly friend Brittany who I haven't seen for ages, it's a letter.  A what, you say?  Yes, an old-fashioned, hand-written letter with a pretty little stamp.  After years and years of email, it is so nice to actually hold some tangible communication in my hand.  There is definitely something about it that I will to continue to appreciate, especially as the anticipation of receiving contact from people decreases as our instant gratification increases with smart phones and the like. Oh, and the letter is written in scribbly cursive.    How cute is she?

Last night, I had the chance to see my friends who live in the city and check out the downtown nightlife.  This was lamely the first weekend that I actually turned off the Discovery Channel, stood up my lazy butt, and got out like a normal 20-something since I moved here.  It was fun to squeeze 5 people into a cab, discuss crocodiles and midgets with our cabbie, and walk past strips of trendy bars.  Despite the hot, sweaty, smelliness of the crowded club we chose and the $5 beer ("welcome to DC" was the response to my dismay of my debit card receipt), we were able to boogie to some old school tunes.  It was a refreshing change from the generally bad quality pop music usually heard in clubs.  A segment of our sing-along soundtrack went something like:
"my anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun!" --> "I don't wanna lose your love toniight!" --> "I traveled the world and the seven seas, everybody's looking for somethin"--> "I can call you betty and betty when you call me you can callll meee allllll" -->"bum, bedaboomdop! don't stop til' you get enough!"
... Yeah, I have no idea what those MJ lyrics are.  Does anybody, really?

As my sister would say, noyce.

The evening ended with a very nervous taxi ride.  For those of you who grew up in the 'burbs, you know what I mean.  Riding in a car with a stranger at 2am is bad enough--the fact that I had no idea where I was in terms of orientation to my apartment made me revert to referencing the hours of SVU I watched in my first week here.  This guy could have driven me to Georgia and I wouldn't have known.  I thought I was in the clear until he started asking me where he should turn.  Eek.  After a couple U-turns, we magically came about a street I recognized and was somehow able to navigate him.  But dear lawd, nerves were a-jumping.

Happy Weekend!

Floating in Space

Wow.  Remember that time I had a blog?  I don't know what is going on-- it is quite strange.  I am usually full of words but over the past month or so, I have been feeling empty of wisdom and share-able energy.  I shall re-discover my inspiration soon... perhaps some resolutions, revelations, or something of that sort for the New Year.

In the meantime, I hope everyone's holidays were/are will be happy.  Mine was not as festive as usual, with everyone in the family more spread out every year.  I has some pictures to show how awesome I made the more involved evenings:

Potatoes + gallons of oil = latkes

Latkes, wine, and menorah.  Successs

Night 8!

Oh, also, I haven't mentioned that I had completed a life goal this month.  Call me crazy, or a weirdo groupie (I don't deny it), but I can finally say I have met, chatted with, and hugged all current members of Guster!  In combination with the photos from my November 1st entry, I can add these to the mix after a  short set they played in my hometown earlier this month:

Thundergod 

Adam!!!

VIP-ness is thanks to the fantastic Luke Reynolds, who is not only a kick-ass musician but also one of the coolest guys ever (and whose new album, "Maps", is a gem).  The title of this entry is a nod to my favorite song on the album, which is on repeat in my car as of last week.  It is also comparable to the way I've been lost in my blogging ways, but remembering that yes, I DO still exist in the blogosphere!

More soon.  Thanks for not giving up on me.

Guster is Gorges

It's November?  What?!  When did this happen?  I'm not complaining, though.  I find November to be quite the mediocre month.  A pretty solid balance between the happy and the sad.  Happy November = big sister's birthday, the prime time of crunchy and colorful leaves, leftover Halloween candy, the end of obnoxious political ads on TV, killer sales on fall clothing, primetime Facebook material of Halloween photos, and the anticipation of Grandma's Thanksgiving mashed potatoes.  Not so happy November = Black Friday is forecasted to come WAY early and this year I'm working in retail, Republicans are looking likely to take over the New York political scene, and snow tires.  And really, Mother Nature, you couldn't hold back the half-hour of sharp sleet until the kiddies were done trick-or-treating last night?  Cruel.

Guster.  My hands down favorite band since 9th grade.  Why do I love them?  Because they make videos and songs like this and people use their songs to make videos like this.  Last weekend marked my 5th time seeing the boys play live.  And on this monumental occasion was the opportunity to get up close and personal with Ryan, Brian the ThunderGod (he plays with his hands!), Adam, and their newest member Luke Reynolds!  Thanks to familial connections (through marriage, Luke Reynolds and I are related!) and a coincidental run-in in downtown Ithaca, I got the chance to hang out with Luke a little bit and meet Ryan and Brian after the show, get autographs and pictures, and even taping a video message for my twin sis, a fellow Gusterrhoid who missed the show since she's doing awesomewaycool things like teaching English in South Korea.  To put it lightly, I flipped.  After running into Luke Reynolds in front of the State Theater the afternoon of the show and introducing myself (despite the fact we're family, we hadn't met yet) and making plans to have a meet-and-greet after the concert, I was on a crazy high for the rest of the day.  Shaking and heart pumping and all that.  ```Not only was I still psyched that I had a personal connection, but I get crazy star-struck. This was probably the equivalent of any 13-18 year-old girl meeting Robert Pattinson (sleezeball) or my friend's mom meeting Bruce Springsteen.

Jammin' on the State Theater Stage

Luke Reynolds!

Sup Ryan Miller

It was also a balmy 70 degrees all weekend, making for a perfect day for idol musican meet-and-greets and thrift-store shopping for my Halloween costumes.  A kick-butt weekend indeed!

Less materialistic highlights of the weekend: photographing my grandma's house and the incredibly eco-friendly community where my one of my sisters lives.  There's nothing like Ithaca in the falltime, I'm telling you:

(more on my flickr photostream)

A note to follow So

On Thursday, I tuned into Oprah's talk show specifically to watch her full-episode special on The Sound of Music.  SCORE!  This gathering of Christopher Plummer, the always-elegant Julie Andrews, and all seven of the Von Trapp children (well, they are not children anymore) marked the first time the entire Von Trapp actor-family has reunited and interviewed together since the filming of the movie 45 years ago.  45 years--can you believe that?!  And it's still one of the most classic, well-loved, and happily-sung movie-musicals of all time.  Considering I am only 22, I still can't really know what 1965 was, which makes it even more amazing for me.  It occurred to me how amazing it is that I have so much love and connection to something that, in reality, is so beyond me.

One segment of the show gave people of all ages an opportunity to share what the movie means to them.  Listening to a deaf woman whose first hearing experience after receiving a cochlear implant was Julie Andrew's famous opening lines "the hills are aliiiiiiiiive with the sound of muuuuuusiiiiic", a nun whose inspiration came from Julie Andrew's interpretation of Maria Von Trapp, and a war veteran who watched the movie 120-something times when overseas to experience "wonderful, splendid peace"gave me a knot in my stomach of shared love and meaning for the movie.  Rosie O'Donnell even made an appearance to share how the movie truly changed her life--she explained how how watching The Sound of Music helped her get over the loss of her mother--how she would imagine that the "singing, wonderful angel" would show up at her doorstep, fall in love with her father, and heal the sadness in her life.  She thanked Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer for helping to save her life.  I mean, how incredible is that?!

My affinity for The Sound of Music comes from my childhood experiences of the event of watching the film.  It was something I shared with my three sisters-- which is why my sister called me to be sure that I knew to watch the hour-long tribute.  When growing up, we curled up (usually with a honkin' bowl of ice cream) to watch our VHS taped recording of The Sound of Music from a TV broadcast in the early 90's together every Chanukah time, no doubt singing (and sometimes dancing) along, mimicking Julie Andrew's clumsy running with her guitar case in hand during "Confidence" and the famous hand-on-the-head at the closing note of "Do Re Mi".  The few times I have tried to watch the film without them, it just hasn't seemed right.  I can't help but think that my sisters' and my love for the music and singing came from the movie.  We surprisingly didn't even have the soundtrack at home-- we had just seen the movie so many times that we knew everything by heart.  And when it came time for high school voice class, we, like so many others, were already well-studied in the solfege (do re mi fa so la ti do!).

As a heartfelt fan, I can't help but think about how so many people grow to have a true attachment to movies.  As I listened to the Von Trapp children singers (the real ones--great-grandchildren of the Maria Von Trapp) sing "Edelweiss" on Oprah over a slow-motion montage of clips from the movie, and chills ran up and down my arms, my stomach turned in nostalgic knots, and what's that? ... A tear or two welling up?, it hit home. Ha, wow.  It's quite something, isn't it?  How a film made so long ago about a time I did not live through can still hold so much meaning to a person and to a family?  We all have our "favorites" for different reasons, which is I am learning is such a special thing.  People can connect to the same "thing"-- a song, a movie, a book-- but for their own personal reasons.  I think that is what helps make the world go 'round.  It's what makes us each our own person, but gives us an outreach into something shared, beyond the people we know or have met.  If you know me at all (or have been reading this here blog), you may notice a pattern of my favorite movies.  90% movie-musicals.  Proclaimed (and classified as) in high school and proudly continued, I am a music geek.  I know there are lots more of you out there, which gives me no shame.  And which is why I dedicate today's entry to one of my favorites.

"Oh YES, that's it-- god bless Kurt!"

The reunited cast on Oprah, Thursday 10/28/10.
(Oprah.com)

We were young, 21, all those years ago

*NOTE: I totally wrote this back in November, and for some reason it has remained a draft. Better late than never-- sorry, Guster!


I guess it's fan-based week for me. It's only appropriate to follow up Newsies with another entertainment loves of my life, in my hopes to introduce them to those who have not yet been fortunate enough to stumble upon them. Their names are Brian Rosenworcel, Adam Gardner, and Ryan Miller. They are Guster.

It's funny how the whole music fan thing works, isn't it? You find a band who you like for one reason or another--delightful harmonies, creative and relatable lyrics, hot bass player, your friends like them-- and then at some point, they become your "favorite" band. You know every single lyric, own every single version of every song they've ever recorded, seen them in concert as many times as you possibly can, and be sure to include at least one track on every mix you make. And you never get sick of them. For me, this band is Guster.

I can't really explain it. There's just something about them. I never even understood all of their lyrics--things went over my head when I was younger, and even now some of their stuff I just listen to and think, "what the hell?" Despite their off-the-wallness, their music always brings me a sense of comfort. Maybe it's because I've followed them since I was about 13, and seen them 5 (going on 6 in October!) times.  


I've been attached to their music for what feels like my whole life. So when I listen in my car, when I'm chilling at home, or in concert, it makes me feel whole and comfortable.  Like I'm right where I am supposed to be.  Certain songs remind me of moments and people in my life and everything just settles in my mind.  I stop worrying about the little things and just remember that everything is going to be okay.  And to me, that's exactly what music is supposed to do.  So, thanks, G-Dog.


Never heard of them? Let me introduce you.  This is from their newly released album.  Enjoy it in all its quirky glory.

Carryin' the Bieber

Here I sit, reporting from a table for one at Panera. What can I say ...a broccoli & cheddar breadbowl and free public wifi are acceptable company when a big ol' gust of wind knocks out the power at your place when you're hungry, alone, and mid-entry. It's an occasion that calls for blogging!

This past weekend, I discovered what may be the best thing on Youtube since the Numa Numa guy: Audio/Video mash-ups of today's best (and worst) pop music with dance numbers from one of my absolute favorite movies of all time. I've known every single line and the note to every single instrumental number and every single lyric since I was about 10. I used to watch it constantly with my sisters, and when we weren't watching it, we were listening to the soundtrack and frolicking around the family room while pretending to be part of Jack Kelly's crew. That's right, I'm talking about the 1992 Disney musical classic Newsies.

When I began perusing the Newsies mash-up merchandise, there were a lot of promising ones to choose from: "Seize The Day" and "King of New York" dancing to Backstreet Boys, Kesha, Miley Cyrus, and Lady Gaga. However, thanks to some expert searching and some hints from fellow Newsies fans, I found the two winners:

And in second place, I am sorry to say, is the newsies flawlessly backing up Justin Bieber. Though the Biebmeister reminds me of a scrawy, scruffy, pig-nosed mouse who is constantly drowning in cargo and has the personality of a piece of mulch, I must admit that his songs are a liiiiitle bit catchy. I have been known to be caught humming a chorus or two. Especially after finding this video, which I've since been watching about 2-3 times an hour ...

Needless to say, I'm on a bit of Newsies kick since finding these vids. Not only did I watch the movie again and remember that it is the sole reason why I've always had an obsession with Christian Bale (despite his questionable behavior), but I also found out that a stage version is at last! in the woiks. Praise the musical heavens above! Gather up the cutest, most talented 20-something men, dress them in newsboy slacks and unbuttoned blouses and put them on stage to sing and dance for us. Yes please :).

As I conclude here with my soup and my meal, I pose this question: how do I eat this soup-soaked breadbowl without looking like a caveman?

"Oh, you mean JACK Kelly. Yeah, he was heah. But he put an egg in his shoe and ... beat it."

Holy suffocating denim, Batman!

On a completely unrelated note to the entry below but still completely blogworthy...

I have experienced yet another loss of virginity to a staple cultural item. Tonight, for the first time, I watched Footloose in its entirety. And all I can say is ... pants. Pants, pants, pants. Hot damn, K-Bacon, hot damn.

Okay, so of course, the big scene of the movie is Ren's spastic, random dance in the warehouse that he delivers in frustration and anger. My question is, is it supposed to be funny? Because I could not stop laughing. The jumping off platforms and gymnastic fancies on bars and sliding down railings and frantic kicking and the bumpin' of the knees was so epic that it produced many a-chuckle. It made me think of that awesome dance scene in Billy Elliot when that poor, adorable kid is so frustrated with his father and brother that he tap/stomps around his neighborhood, banging on walls while sitting on toilets and stuff. Hehe, so cute. Again, not sure if I'm supposed to laugh or if I'm supposed to be all tense and sense the frustration and the physical need to dance it out.

Either way, it was definitely a fun time. I overheard a fellow first-timer say when the movie was over, "I finally get Kevin Bacon! I never got Kevin Bacon! He's hot!" Hahaha. I don't know if I will now jump on the Kevin Bacon train, which is a little before my time anyway, but I certainly have a newfound appreciation for his sweet moves (and I can't help but wait for him to break into a jig on the sand the next time I watch Tremors, the only other memorable Kevin Bacon film in my movie memory repertory). And I can only wait patiently for the remake to come out, starring the one and only Zac Efron as Ren MacCormack. Yes, I admit it, *swoon*. It's legit, he's my ageish. I hope they put him in those same pants ... I mean what?

And, the most memorable Footloose quote:

"When kids dance they become sexually irresponsible."

- Rev. Shaw Moore

Life's about film stars and less about mothers

Something I like at the moment: Lily Allen's It's Not Me, It's You. I'm fascinated by her lyrics and am thinking about featuring some of them on this here blog. She's sassy, she's smart, she's sarcastic, she's straight up.

Trying to figure out the lyrics to her song "The Fear". She makes a lot of good points in it, and I like how she admits to not being above it all-- she, like so many of us, have fallen into this trap because that's, as she says, how we're programmed to function. So what is the fear that she is talking about? The fear of being out of the loop? The fear of being forgotten?

The lyrics are as follows, interpret as you may. There are expletives, you have been warned, hope they don't offend.

She sings:

I want to be rich and I want lots of money

I don't care about clever, I don't care about funny

I want loads of clothes and fuckloads of diamonds

I heard people die when they are trying to find them

And I'll take my clothes off and it will be shameless

Cause everyone knows that's how you get famous

I'll look at the sun and I'll look in the mirror

I'm right on track yeah I'm onto a winner

I don't know what's right and what's real anymore

And I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore

When do yout think it will all become clear

Cause I'm being taken over by the fear

Life's about film stars and less about mothers

It's all about fast cars and cussing each other

But it doesn't matter cause I'm packing plastic

And that's what makes my life so fucking fantastic

And I am a weapon of massive consumption

And it's not my fault it's how I'm programmed to function

I'll look at the sun and I'll look in the mirror

I'm on the right track yeah we're onto a winner

Forget about guns and forget ammunition

Cause I'm killing them all on my own little mission

Now I'm not a saint but I'm not a sinner

Now everything's cool as long as I'm getting thinner

I don't know what's right and what's real anymore

And I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore

When do yout think it will all become clear

Cause I'm being taken over by the fear.

On a somewhat unrelated note, what is it about her super cool British accent that makes her so much cooler? Wonder if that helped make her more popular on the US scene? Dunno, but I dig it.

To come, methinks: more fantastico lyrics from smart, awesomely poetic female singers who rock. Ingrid Michaelson, namely, and more Lily Allen fo sho.

I heart music

(28 February 2010)

I had the incredible treat tonight of seeing the Russian National Orchestra play in the chapel at school with special guest pianist the breathtaking Yuja Wang. There’s something really incredible about hearing great music. It makes you escape into a place where you believe everything is possible. Your mind starts swimming with all the good in the world, and all the bad in the world, and that’s when you feel that tightness in your stomach and that stinging behind the eyes that mean tears are a-comin’. There’s a certain resonant chord, or swelling crescendo, or moving melody that for some reason I can’t explain, jump-starts a visceral reaction.

Even if it’s a tune you recognize, something you can reproduce down to the note in your head, the song still has a way of moving you. Even for me, when I found myself distracted during Piano Concerto No. 2 by Sergei Rachmaninoff because I KNEW I knew the song, and I have this crazy complex when I have to figure out how I first came to know it. it’s like when I see a movie or am watching a TV show and recognize an actor or actress. I automatically am like “oh, he/she is from ___!” I have a pretty consistent tendency of matching it up quickly and correctly (much to the disappointment of Mel, with whom I often bet on if I’m right or not, and can proudly say that in all the years I’ve only lost twice to her), and sometimes have a hard time getting that original exposure out of my mind. Sometimes, though, it helps enhance my experience. Like tonight, for example, when it finally clicked that the movement was from Center Stage, during Jonathan’s ballet. I could see the fourth positions of the core and the majestic waving of the arms of Eva Rodriguez in my head as I heard the passionate movement being played before me. When it was over, and the applause broke me out of my trance, and I caught my breath, I felt the tiny tears balancing on my lids, though they never dropped over the edge, and my heart beating fairly ferociously (<-oxy moron? But cool alliteration, so it’s staying) and I had to catch my breath.

I had the most fun watching the conductor in the second piece of the three-piece concert as he danced on his podium in a graceful frenzy. It made me giggle a couple times, it was so musical!