Monthly Archives: January 2012

How Can I Keep from Singing?

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  Do you know those words “How can I keep from singing?”  They are from a beautiful Appalachian hymn and the words speak powerfully and poignantly of the healing, nurturing nature of singing to lift us up even in the midst of life’s darkest hours- even as they also give wing to our feelings of

Green Room

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This is a photograph of the Frances Bedford Concert Hall, one of the most exquisite showpieces of the newly opened Rita Tallent Pick Regional Center for Arts & Humanities at the University of Wisconsin-Parkside.  I’m calling it the Green Room not because the color green figures in its decorating scheme (as you can see for


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Actually,  his name was Bartlett Butler ...  Dr. Bartlett Butler ... and part of me sort of cringes at the ease with which most of us referred to him in conversation as “Bart.”  But honestly, I don’t think we were doing so dismissively or disrespectfully (although most of us would never have dreamt to do

A Woman of Distinction

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When I began work at WGTD back in 1986,  I hosted a Saturday afternoon classical music request program that turned out to be a valuable tool by which to get to know some of the most interesting people in the Kenosha and Racine communities.  One of them made a very strong impression on me the

Another Opening, but not just Another Show

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My wife is a relatively private person, so when it comes to her and/or anything in which she is involved, I have to blog with great restraint . . . no small feat for a cyber blabber mouth like me . . . so you have seen nary a mention here of something which has

Seat Dreams

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When someone you know is crowned Miss America, that pretty much dwarfs every other headline for the week- but for me a close second in that week’s list of thrills was when I attended a performance of Mozart’s The Magic Flute at the Lyric Opera of Chicago.   I like this opera, but I’ve seen it

There She Is . . .

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I’ll admit it.  Last night, when the host announced that Carthage graduate Laura Kaeppler was the new Miss America, my two fists shot above my head like Rocky Balboa and I screamed like I have not screamed since the Packers won the last Super Bowl.   And right there with me, screaming just as loudly and

Irish Blessing

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Over the last four or five years, I’ve been making it a point to be on hand whenever any of our music ensembles departs on a major tour.... even if that departure is at 5 in the morning, which it has sometimes been.  I most vividly recall hauling my tired butt to Carthage at about

Pay no attention to the crying piano player

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Okay,  I admit it.  I’m a crybaby, and I don’t care who knows it.  And not only do I cry when and where it’s expected,  but even when it’s not.  Case in point: earlier tonight I was watching one of my favorite Youtube videos: a delicious duet with Andy Williams and Pearl Bailey called “The

Lessons Learned

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A new year has begun.... and with it, I hope, a year’s worth of new lessons learned.  Of course, we’re learning lessons all the time,  but if we rush around too frantically, there’s no chance for the lesson to take root and become a permanent part of us.   But I’m hoping to become a bit