It’s 11:06 – the end of a long and intense day in what is amounting to the nuttiest week of the whole year for me – and as I look across the room and see our golden retriever Ellie camped out on the couch without a care in the world, I find myself a bit tempted to curl up right next to her and remain there for the next five days. Of course, I would have a bit of explaining to do to the following people:
Michael Lewis, author of the best-selling book The Blind Side. I’m scheduled to speak with him by telephone tomorrow morning to interview him about his latest book, The Big Short, which is currently the #1 best-selling non-fiction book in the country. Tempting as it is to remain on the couch tomorrow morning, I would hate to miss out this opportunity to speak with such a “hot” author. (This is actually a makeup for an interview scheduled for several weeks ago, which he had to cancel at the last minute because of laryngitis. A lot of writers of his stature would not bother to makeup an interview with a small little station like ours, and if he’s nice enough to make himself available to me, the least I can do is camp out on the couch some other day.)
Two of my Carthage voice students- Andrew and Matt – have pre-recital exams to sing. . . this is something which we demand from anyone who sings a recital. Several weeks before the fact, they need to come before their faculty jury ready to sing anything from their recital by memory. I need to be there both as their teacher and accompanist, and somehow the explanation that I’m missing because I’m curled up on the couch with my dog would not be well received. And truth be told, they are excited and ready to go – and I can’t imagine missing this big moment for either of them.
The cast of Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas. This is our spring opera at Carthage, and we perform it this Sunday afternoon – and I suspect that my cast would not enjoy doing the last two rehearsals without their music director and accompanist there- no matter how much I might deserve (and need) a mental health day. And this is exactly when I don’t want to miss a moment because things are starting to come together in very exciting fashion – both dramatically and musically – meaning that now is when it starts to really get fun and exciting!
The 28 people I am accompanying for State Solo & Ensemble this Saturday. And by the way, that number doesn’t really convey what the day is going to be like- because four of the people I’m playing for are doing two events. So I am accompanying 32 competitors on Saturday – and Lord willing, I will be rehearsing with all of them between now and then. . . although at the rate I’m going, I’ll be practicing with some of them at 2 in the morning…. take it or leave it. Not quite but nearly so, as a glance at my wildly packed desk calendar would attest. But I love contest, for as crazy as it gets. (And this year State is the craziest ever for me.)
Brittany, whose clarinet senior recital I am playing for Saturday afternoon, right after contest. And by the way, her recital is at 430 and I know that I’m playing for at least one State competitor at 4:00 – so I am expecting a mad dash there at the end, and suggesting that she hire a magician or baton-twirling majorette to entertain the audience in case I’m a couple of minutes late. Anyway, I’m pretty sure that she wouldn’t want to play any of her pieces a cappella.
Doug Instenes, director of ‘The Producers’ at the Racine Theater Guild. I’m paying a visit to rehearsal each evening around 9 to try and solve any musical problems or issues that have arisen. And in a lovely bonus, my wife is at rehearsals now because she’s assistant stage manager. . . and my late evening forays to the RTG at least yield me the opportunity to reintroduce myself to my wife, to whom I’m scarcely more than a fuzzy blur this week.
So I have an absurd number of significant things on my plate this week. . . and every time I go into Carthage email and find another note from someone wanting to practice this week, I am just a tiny bit tempted to stick my head down the garbage disposal – or, less drastically, to curl up with Ellie and let all of this craziness spin on without me. But the truth is that even if I could jettison any of the obligations weighing me down this week, I’m not sure I would want to – because I would hate the thought of missing out of any of what I’ve just outlined. To quote a now commonly bandied about phrase, “It’s All Good.” And somehow this is the way I’m wired – and I’ve been wired this way for quite some time now. That was driven home to me just today when I posted something on Facebook about being insanely busy this week and expressing the hope that maybe someday I would gain a little better control over my life’s “spigot.” My best friend Marshall, who’s known me since kindergarten, expressed some skepticism of that ever happening. . . and Brian Newhouse, my Luther schoolmate and now esteemed voice of Minnesota Public Radio, wrote something about remembering how I said something similarly hopeful back in 1978. Busted. And I’m sure my family, given the chance, would love to weigh in on my foolish aversion to the word No. And maybe someday someone will say the magic words that compel me to rewire this aspect of my being. But for now, this is who I am. This is my “normal.” And when I think about the people in this world for whom a hectic week’s excitement consists of getting their hair done on Thursday, I am perfectly happy to hold on to the life I’ve got…. even in this insanely busy week.
And besides, I’ve got next week to curl up with Ellie. And a week like this one will make next week’s nap on the couch next to Ellie feel ever so precious.