Concert(s) review: Antsy McClain and the Trailer Park Troubadours

The band's name itself caught your eye, didn't it?

Well, two weekends ago, I had the enormous pleasure to see this fantastic band in concert two nights in a row--in Newton, NC and at Lenoir Rhyne college. And I'm here to tell you, these guys put on a tremendous show.

Led by Antsy McClain, the purple suit-wearing, pompadour-stylin', leg twitchin', joke tellin' ringmaster, the Trailer Park Troubadours set the stage for an evening of fun and music in the simple innocent background of the trailer park of Antsy's youth, Pineview Heights.

Antsy's songs radiate from the heart of Americana, a hopeful, true-to-life, funny, and at times poignant background that bursts from the musical palette and hits home hard...and permanently.

Supported by a loyal following of fans--the Flamingoheads, Antsy bounces across the stage for three hours of music, stories, and laughter. The music is also supported by a slideshow that runs behind the action for the duration of the show, enhancing some of his songs, and at times bringing even more levity to the show by displaying some laugh-out-loud advertisements such as "Mabel's Bait Shack and Sushi Bar...Follow your nose!" and "Antoine's Comb-over Barn." As something of an authority on funny...only those with an absolute lack of humor will be able to keep from laughing during this show.

The true stars of the show, however, are the songs. From the amusing story songs such as "I was just flipped off by a silver-haird old lady with a honk if you love Jesus sticker on the bumper of her car" to ballads such as "Falling in Love in America," Antsy's songs are well-written, clever, heartfelt, and just plain inspired.

I can't recommend these guys enough--give them a listen on youtube or visit their website at www.unhitched.com.

Enjoy the ride!

And Things We're All Too Young to Know...

So, I know it's been a good long time since I've written anything here. I could spout off several of the standby "I've been busy excuses" and follow them up with some actual examples of how jam-packed things have been since I wrote about being a child and speaking for the trees.

The simple fact of the matter is this: I've been looking for a way to write what I've been experiencing and asking myself lately, and I've drawn a complete blank. Sometimes, there's plenty of ink, but the shapes you scratch it into just don't get the point across.

Then, last night at around 2am, I had a "moment of inspiration." After my directing gig, I've spent a lot of time unwinding and getting my brain cleared of constant bombarding with information, decisions, and plans...doing my favorite things: listening to music, watching movies, reading, looking for beautiful and meaningful things. Well, last night, I heard a song that released the flood of dammed ideas that I had been reaching for.

Allow me to suggest a thought to you for a moment: Think of some of your favorite songs. Not just songs whose tune you like that you can't quite get out of your head once they're there; no, those songs that defined moments of your life...songs that touched you deeply. Can you remember where you first heard them? Under what circumstances? Perhaps it was in a movie or television show...perhaps you heard snippets of it over the radio...or maybe you heard it live. However this took place, I imagine that you will find yourself able to recreate that scenario fairly faithfully in your mind's eye. Because music is such a joyful constant in my life, I have many moments like these. And in many cases, I could describe the impact to you, but in this case, I won't--not because it would cheapen it, but because I don't want to define this experience for you the way it is for me...because it's yours. You get to define it.

So, in my life many things are steadily changing. I'm getting older, obviously, but the circumstances of my life and those around me have been changing imperceptibly over the course of about 5 years that I barely recognize the old for the new in life around me. The things that once mattered so much are barely mentioned, and things that I had little knowledge of now consume my daily life and define the next steps. This appears to be true of everyone around me.

I think the most obvious example of all of this is the diverging pathways the friends in my life are taking. Many have married; some have children, and some still are in that blissful, exciting, scary, glorious stage of expecting their first child (or in some cases, grandchild). I find it awesome (and note that I'm using the word the way it was meant to be used...I am in true awe and wonder by this series of events) that my generation is birthing and raising the next generation. We are in the process of contributing our verses to the epic poem that is the Family of Man. I can't sufficiently describe the feeling. But I do know this--in my lifetime I have seen some amazing things, and before I die, I know I will see even more. But, even as a young man, I know that no man-made wonder will leave me quite as awestruck as seeing the breathing, moving being that was conceived and born by those I care about.

It's funny sometimes that we lament how ordinary our lives are--how mundane--how normal. Consider this--the simple fact that you are alive right now in the circumstances that you are in is about as statistically impossible as any great miracle. Genetic material too complex to properly number came together to create every detail that is you, and since then, every choice that you have made has in some way nudged you towards the life you are living right now.

It defies all odds that we know the people we know.

It is beyond all probability that our lives are what they are.

Those who are not members of our genetic family probably came into our lives by some small decision which led to another, which led to another, which at some point was a large decision, and then here we are. A single decision with a separate outcome might have completely altered a significant relationship.

I have mentioned in the past how it makes me somewhat sad that those who were closest to me at certain points of my life have fallen fairly out of touch at some point or another. Yes, it is true that there are some points in my life that I wish I could bottle and relive whenever I like. Perfect days--terrible, wonderful...all of them. And in a way, I can. I've been blessed with the kind of memory that can draw back to myself those days where all was beautiful and easy.

But as of late, I'm less saddened that those closest to me have lost touch a bit. They are not forgotten, and they are not gone. What's happened instead is that their dance has led them to points where the things that we agonized over are not so important (just like in my life), and new priorities have given way. They are husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, doctors, lawyers, teachers, soldiers, engineers.

Although I want very much to experience my life with all those who made it what it is, I am wildly happy that they are able to experience exciting new avenues in their own lives. And if not having the time to always keep in the closest touch with me allows them in some small way to expand their own life experiences, I am perfectly contented with that. Each of these people, although many are not blood-related, are my family. Nothing in the world can undo that, and I know that being a little out of touch isn't the worst thing, because it is by no means a permanent circumstance. For me, there is always great joy in just seeing the people who I care so deeply for--even for a few minutes. I don't hurt so much because I see in them a bit of the same realization (whether conscious or not) that there is great value in moving onward--and great value in occasionally looking back.

I'm thankful that God has seen fit to defy all probability in making my life what it is. I know that it is, in its way, a miracle that it happened at all. I would not change a decision, foolish or wise, and I would not erase a single person, no matter how much their presence may have slowed what I perceived to be my progress. It's all working out--and it's all well-ordered, and in its way...perfect.

So, when I get tangled up, I'll tango on. And I'm sure, from time to time, I'll see you there.

I sure hope so.

Dr. Seuss on Revising Collegiate Essays--a spoof.

So, recently I've been on a "childhood throwback" kick. Specifically speaking, I've been re-engaging the part of my brain which used to run around constantly as a little kid repeating and repeating the immortal words of Theodore Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss. I'd particularly enjoyed rediscovering my favorite...The Lorax. Well, on a whim, I decided to be a wiseass and change my FB profile picture to a portrait of the Lorax standing on a stump--complete with status update: "Ben Dawkins is the Lorax...He speaks for the trees."









Well, in order to find said Lorax portrait, I used GoogleImage search, which by the by, is awesome. When I found my perfect picture:

Well, in order to save this picture, I was taken to a webpage belonging to Jay Wentworth, an interdisciplinary professor at Appalachian State and a scholar of the Beat Generation. Attached to this webpage was a spoof based on the Lorax. It's nowhere near as long, but it's a funny little poem that made me laugh about all of the English teachers I had in school and how crazy revision made me.

Here it is:

He was shortish.

And oldish.

And brownish.

And mossy.

And he spoke with a voice that was sharpish and bossy.

"Mister!" he said with a sawdusty sneeze,

"I am the Wentworth. I speak for the Beats. I speak for the Beats, for the Beats are old or dead.

And I'm asking you, sir, by the skin on my head--

he was very upset and he shouted and puffed--

"Do this paper over for this draft is too rough!"

And then I got mad. I got terribly mad.

I yelled at the Wentworth, "Now listen here, Dad!

All you do is yap-yap and say, 'Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad!'

Well, I have my rights, sir, and

I'm telling you I intend to go on doing just what I do!

And, for your information, you Wentworth, I'm figgering on writering
and WRITERING
and WRITERING
and WRITERING,

turning out MORE Papers just like this one and when I finish it, it's going to be DONE!"

The Wentworth said nothing. Just gave me a glance... just gave me a very sad, sad backward glance...

as he lifted himself by the seat of his pants.

And I'll never forget the grim look on his face when he heisted himself and took leave of

this place through the door to his office, without leaving a trace.

And all that the Wentworth left here in this mess was a small scratch of writing, with one word...

Whatever that meant, well, I just couldn't guess. That was long , long ago

But each day since that day

I've sat here and worried and worried away.

Through the years, while my books have fallen apart,

I've worried about it with all of my heart.

"But now ," says the Soph-mler,

"Now that you're here, the word of the Wentworth seems perfectly clear.

UNLESS I care, care about my Paper a whole lot,

I'm not going to write better. I'm not."

"SO... write your papers over. Write your pen dry.

Create multiple drafts and work til you cry.

Invest no ego and don't shy away from teachers that hack.

Then the Wentworth and all his Beat buddies may all come back."

Note: Apologies to Dr. Suess © Copyright 1997 Alex Howard

That's right, kids...it's a Crime Drama!

So, if you're going to watch TV these days and actually see programming that isn't a silly reality show playing out some ridiculous concept, you're going to be picking and choosing from a lot of crime and medical dramas.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love a good crime or medical drama. The reason they're so popular is because drama is built naturally into the situation. Life, death, freedom, serial murderers...this is why it's all you hear on the news. Unfortunately in today's society, humanitarian efforts and the ordinary but commendable achievements of normal citizens aren't considered particularly newsworthy.

Which brings me to a few issues with the crime drama:

First of all, the flagging marriage. I know it's a tough job (and marital problems are also drama-making), but wouldn't it be TEN TIMES HARDER to have a well-adjusted, happily married detective who is actually succeeding at making it all work. Wouldn't it make his detective work a little harder and perhaps create some tension at the workplace if the hero wasn't willing to just drop anything and everything and ignore everyone he cares for to solve a case?

Here's another: cops hanging out at a diner, getting the call, and rushing out to their cars. I'm sure this is a little slice of real life, but it's been cliché since Chips. I mean, really! I think the directors for that show wanted at least one shot in every episode where a motorcycle is driven quickly out of a gravel parking lot sending dust and rocks everywhere.

This one has become really common thanks to CSI and it's children. The Morgue. There are two things about the morgue I'd like to comment on. First, newbie in the morgue. This can play out one of two ways. First, he gets sick. Yes, we know that this happens. It isn't particularly interesting, and if you're going to waste 18 minutes of my television hour with commercials, let's just assume I know that sometimes, people get sick when they're first exposed to autopsies. Second, it seems that the coroner in a lot of these dramas has been plucked right out of James Bond. He stands there smugly and unravels THE ENTIRE PLOT! This always makes me laugh because I'm expecting the body to escape from the sharks with the laser beams on their foreheads and foil the evil coroner's plan of world domination. Another similar issue: cops and doctors. It goes one of two ways...in medical dramas, cops give just enough information to develop the plot and then keep out of the way. In police dramas, it's basically the opposite. I know a few cops, and they have some pretty strong opinions about the physical state of some of the victims...they seem to be prone to argument to me! And the paramedics and EMTs I know have told me many stories where they have gotten into it with police officers at crime scenes. More drama? Perhaps, but we don't see it developed all that much.

Good Cop, Bad Cop...Is there anyone who doesn't understand this? Good! Then let's have something different in the interrogation room. How about two good cops? That would be more difficult to pull off. Suspect tries to manipulate two good cops but because they are also good cops as well as being "non macho jackasses," they use psychology to get the information they need. There's some of this going on in The Mentalist, which, by the by, is an interesting new crime drama. Monk works better for me in the "ridiculously observant" department, but having a protagonist who used to pretend to be a psychic isn't half-bad. Another take on this issue: How about bad cop/bad cop? This has to happen...probably more often than we'd like to think. There's some of this stuff going on in movies, but it's gone out of the forefront a bit. Why not bring it back? It gives us the opportunity to show out hero's moral fortitude when he yells at the bad/bad team who just beat a confession out of some lowlife that "This is not the way we do things!"

And now, lawyers. I'm sure there have to be criminal defense lawyers who aren't slick-haired evil faced shysters. There HAVE TO BE! I roll my eyes every time I see the suave defense lawyer spouting the same script every time "My client has no comment...blah, blah, blah...you shouldn't have talked to my client without me present...blah, blah, blah." Why not a lawyer on a cop drama who is an advocate for his client? Like he's supposed to be! I understand that we only really see the chase and the collar in most crime dramas, except L&O.

Speaking of chases...car chases. These are especially overplayed in crime drama movies, but I know there has to be a more interesting way to do this. They're driving fast...I get it. Innocent people could get hurt...I get it.

And finally, my favorite crime drama cliché...When the plot starts to suck, send in somebody with a gun. The shootout is just as overplayed as the car chase, and the main reason, I think, is that we are very rarely personally invested in all of the people involved in the shootout. With the proliferation of special PI and CSI types as the main characters, the actual action of police work is left to subordinate characters who in all honesty, we really don't know that well. So, we end up with another shoot out...perhaps one of the good guys gets shot...in the shoulder. And finally, the baddies either get shot in the chest or tackled in some way by the protagonist (who's not supposed to get involved in the shootout, btw...due to being completely underqualified and typically...NOT ALLOWED TO) and ends up being taken away with no more than a few scrapes.


But of course, it's important to remember...there are only so many ways to tell a story, so it becomes VERY VERY difficult to avoid situations like these. But, perhaps, since there are teams of writers involved in the production of these programs...they should try a lot harder. Once the general public gets tired of medical and cop dramas...then reality shows will continue to encroach. That nonsense has to stop. I don't care who ends up with the Bachelor. I don't care if Debbie decides to eat the really big bug. Give us more exciting, well-written TV. We have to have something better to talk about around the water cooler than the lastest Idol cut.


TUNE OF THE DAY:

Rockapella - Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?

Monday through Friday at 5...I was introduced to the fun of the mystery by Carmen San Diego. I was always pulling for those kids. They never seemed to be able to find Tanzania on that big map of Africa, though. Watch your back--any super criminal who "stole the beans from Lima" has to be followed closely.

Lost in Translation, or "But some fear thing after death"

As I get older, my humor seems to be getting more and more absurd. I'm sure many of you will agree. I was sitting in the coffeehouse yesterday playing with Babelfish, and I decided to translate a few simple phrases into Japanese...because I think the characters look cool. Then, on a lark, I decided to translate those characters back into English. The result was comic gold. The idioms and syntax of different languages being what they are, when something is re-translated it comes out wildly absurd...and definitely tickles my funny bone. I'm sure other people have tried this as well, but I get the feeling I'm going to have a lot of fun with it. So, I decided to post a few literary gems...Lost in Translation.

First...Hamlet

Because of a certain or because it is not, that is question;
' Whether or not; In order the topping lift of a nobler tis inhuman good fortune and the arrow or the arm to take with the heart which suffers vis-a-vis the sea of trouble,
and finish those with in the opposite direction.
In order to die, in order to sleep; Above this;
And as for us as for that meat of mental agony and thousand natural impacts which finish with the sleep which is said the successor
- the ' So it is; From tis consummation heart wish' Because it is;
D. in order to die, in order to sleep; In order to sleep, in order to look at perchance dream.
Ay and there' For with the sleep of s friction and death whether perhaps,
any dream comes, when mixing from the coil where we do not escape this death separated,
we must give pause. There' s point that disaster of such long life is made,
someone for the sake of whether it withstands the rod,
time scorns, Th' oppressor' The wrongdoing of s, man' which you brag;
contumely of s and intense it is painful, law' of the love which is scorned;
It repulses the haughty attitude of the lag and the office of s,
th' The patient advantage; When perhaps, the acquisition which does not have value,
him him himself that quietus which is made using naked bodkin?
Someone the fardels [ku] [ma], and in order the sweat to groan under the life which becomes fatigued, but some fear thing after the death,
the unknown national traveler from bourn does not reset, is perplexed will,
and on the other hand there are no we whom it makes those sicknesses withstand which we have in us, you have known besides the fact that to, from growing?
Therefore conscience our all cowardly people are made,
and in this way, hue sicklied of original product of decision o' It is;
Being warped, it turns the flow obtaining - casting ones whose thought is thin and, and large pitch and with this point of enterprise of the time, and lose the name of behavior.

Next, Woody Allen's opening to Annie Hall

It's an old joke. Well, the Catskill Mountains two resources of the elderly women of [cough] and a 'Day of the "boy, this place, but says the food is really great, another one" Yeah I was aware that, say such a small part. " Well, that is how life feels in nature. The loneliness, misery and pain and misery and full, it is much too early on. Is, for me, the other important joke is usually the result of GURUCHOMARUKUSU. However, I originally Freud "appears to wit, I think it is related to the unconscious." And goes like this, and I paraphrase, uh: I, like my membership I would prefer not to belong to a club like that. That's a joke in terms of significant relationships with adult women in my life. Also, I know the hearts that have been strange recently - 'cause, I was 40. And I was in danger of life or something, I do not know, um, I'm going and I think aging is not worried. If one of the letters I, I, um, well, I'm on some hair loss. Probably the worst thing you can tell me thatÕs. I, um, I think it will be much better in my hands before, you know, and I think, hair loss, strong type, like you, and opposed to say Yeah, gray, for example, identify . You know 'I have two of both low. 'My deduction is the saliva of his mouth, dribbling a SA迷U crowd to the cafeteria and bring a shopping bag, screaming about socialism. Annie and I were disbanded. And I, if I can not get my mind around it now, I know in my heart, sifting of work to keep me, examine my life, here So, come to understand that the screw. You know, the one before us, in love, you know. And, and I was morose type I was not in my character is not depressed. I, I, I uh, you, I'm quite happy with as a child, I guess. I fed the first two in Brooklyn during World War ...

He seems even more neurotic this way, doesn't he?


And now, Poetry!

Robert Frost...

The two roads in a yellow wood, branches
Sorry I could not travel and
And a single traveler, I have long standing
I only saw up and down a single In bushes, bending it;

Then, just like this, it took another
Claims that, probably better
It is covered with grass, wear a hope;
As it is passed there
Is actually about the same, and wear them

Morning and put the same
The light is still a step in the black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Get to know how to yet I need to come back if I have questions.

I sighed, and indicated that this Hence some age and age:
Two roads, wood, and I jump,
I travel a little is taken
It has all the difference.


"Yet I need to come back if I have questions." Don't we all.

Langston Hughes

Well, son, I tell me:
My life is not a crystal stair.
To do this,
I did have a tack And debris,
The board is torn
And the location of the carpet on the floor -- Bear.
However, all the time
I'se a climbin 'and,
And reachin 'landin,
And turnin 'corners,
And sometimes' is done in the dark
Here, in the light.
To turn against the boy is.
If not, set to step down '
If the cause is hard gently.
Do not fall now --
I'se done yet, honey,
I'se still climbin ',
Crystal Stairs is not my life.

Now, this next one should be very weird...Allan Ginsberg, "Howl" (first section...it'd be too long otherwise)

I was destroyed in the heart of the best of my generation
Madness, starving hysterical, naked
At dawn, dragged through the town black
To correct the outrage, see
Angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
The process is connected to the generator of the stars
Work at night,
Second Saturday of high poverty and tatters and hollow,
Smoking in the supernatural darkness
Cold-water flats floating to the top of the city,
Contemplative jazz

Whoa.



And finally, Song Lyrics!

"Sesame Street"

Sunny Day Sweepin 'distance of the cloud
The air here is sweet for me
Can you tell me how to get the
How Sesame Street is a
Come and play
All of A, [OK] to Neighbors are friendly
We are satisfied that the
Can you tell me how to get
How Sesame Street is a

This is a magic carpet ride
I opened the door to all
People like you are happy to --
People like happy people
How beautiful

Sunny Day
Sweepin 'distance of the cloud
The air here is sweet for me
Can you tell me how to get the
How Sesame Street is the ...
How Sesame Street is a
How to ...


Try to sing it...I dare you. Twisted.

Now, a Michael Jackson lyric. I had to... "Smooth Criminal"

To, as he came to the window
I heard that it reaches its climax
He came to her apartment
He left the bloodstains on the carpet
She is under the table Orchid
He was please she did not see
So the orchids in her bedroom
He strikes her down was her doom
Are you OK Annie?
To do this, okay Annie
The Annie OK Are you OK Annie?
To do this, okay Annie
The Annie OK Are you OK Annie?
To do so, Are you OK Annie?
You, Annie, are you okay?
Are you OK Annie?
To do this, okay Annie, you OK, Annie? (Are you OK Annie?)
It is good for you
(Can you tell me?) (The signs in the window)
(It is here that he struck out - Annie Crescendo)
In your apartment (he) (He left the bloodstains on the carpet)
(Later, in the room) Lan (Your down strikes) and (It) was your doom
Are you OK Annie?
To do so, Are you OK Annie?
Annie [OK] What are you?
Are you OK Annie?
To do so, Are you OK Annie?
Annie [OK] What are you?
Are you OK Annie?
To do so, Are you OK Annie?
Annie [OK] What are you?
You have suffered a You have been hit - V is a smooth criminal

Doc Broadway

So, did you ever see the movie Doc Hollywood with Michael J. Fox? If you haven't, basically, here's the rundown: Hotshot doctor Michael J. Fox has just finished his residency and travels across the country to start at a high-priced platic surgery practice. On the way, he runs over a white picket fence belonging to the judge in (if I remember correctly) Grady, South Carolina. To work off his fine, he his ordered to practice medicine in the local clinic. Hilarity and poignant "finding oneself" drama ensues.

Well, I seem to find myself in a similar situation as of late.

For those of you just tuning in, I recently started a directing gig in the small town of Sandersville, GA. Not including auditions (which I really don't, because I was only in town for a couple of hours each time), this is day three of the Sandersville Experience.

So, here I am. Doc Broadway. Charged with putting on Beauty and the Beast, which, for those playing the home game, is a pretty major production.

Now, before starting my short stay in Sandersville, I thought I knew what a small town was. After all, I grew up in Conyers, and we were pretty sure that we were living in a small southern town.

And we were wrong.

Yesterday, I walked through pretty much all of Sandersville. I actually have to walk further to get where I need to go in Athens...that is, when I'm not driving. A census estimate has Sandersville's population hovering around 6,000 (according to epodunk.com...no, I'm not making that site up), and it seems, a vast portion of that population has been alerted to the presence of a director in the area.

So, this young musician/actor/director from Conyers, Rome, and Athens GA is being hailed as a "big city" fellow.

Whoa...

We've had two rehearsals so far (a read-through, and a first sing of a couple of the chorus numbers), and it's looking very promising. I'm going to have to fasten my "patient Ben" hat pretty securely, but I can tell already that we're going to have an exciting show on our hands.

But first, I'm going to have to figure out just how I'm going to do the small town thing. More on this to come as I have a few more experiences, but here are a few to tide you over til' then:

• I'm living in a house built in 1897. I'm afraid to touch anything for fear of destroying it. For those of you who know me well..."accident prone" doesn't even begin to cover it.
• I've heard the name "Sherman" spoken through gritted teeth several times since I've been here.
• I've heard the expression "Oh, my stars!" more times in the past 48 hours than I have in my entire life.
• I was at the Waffle House the other night (only thing open after rehearsals...the whole world seems to shut down), and another patron couldn't eat his bacon...so he gave it to me.
• I've set up office hours in the only coffee house in the area. Mercifully, they have wireless internet so I can keep up with the world. On my second day showing up here, I was greeted as a regular.
• Yesterday, I had to buy a 3-to-2 prong plug adapter. There are no 3 prong outlets in this house. Oh, and the adapter cost 75 cents. In Athens, a diet Dr. Pepper costs $1.39.
• Everybody says hello. I'm called "Sir" by everyone I talk to, and whenever I hear the name "Mr. Dawkins," I'm looking around for my Dad.

It's a different kind of life I'm living right now. But, I'll be back in Athens on the weekends...getting my fill of air conditioning and businesses open past 9.

But don't worry...I have a little case for DVDs. I'll keep myself entertained.

TUNE OF THE DAY:

John Denver - Thank God I'm A Country Boy

Mercy...I am so not a country boy. Perhaps I should learn a little more how to be one if I'm going to get along fine here. But, let me tell you, you haven't lived til' you've heard colloquial French spoken with a major southern drawl. "Bahn--Jer!"

GRADBlog

I'm finished. It's done. Complete. Over. Fin. The Master's degree is finally nicely wrapped up, and yet another chapter of my educational life (well, life in general) is now done.

Ben Dawkins, Master of Music. It sounds like a bit too much, doesn't it? Bachelor of Arts makes sense. Even Doctor of Musical Arts has a certain "real world" ring to it. But, Master of Music? That's what it's going to say on my degree. What it should say is, "This is to certify that Benjamin C. Dawkins now knows significantly more about music than he used to." Or, perhaps more in a more honest appendage to this statement, "Moreover, he realizes how many aspects of music he has absolutely no clue about." Because that last little bit is definitely true--in the past three years, not counting lessons and ensembles (which are a different layer of complex education in and of themselves), I've taken 14 pretty serious classes on music in the last 3 years. It may not seem like a lot, but it definitely is.

It's funny to think about how little I knew about music when I arrived at the university. I'd taken one baby theory course, zero lit, zero history. My musical training consisted of years of ensembles, choruses, and musicals. I didn't know diddly squat about opera, but by the end of the first year, I had so many opera recordings and spent so many hours reading, listening, and watching that I was in a different planet. Becoming a real Classical musician was an awe-inspiring, pride-swallowing, mind-numbing, hyphenated descriptor-requiring experience. Those classes changed the way I listened to music. An interesting aspect of my grad student life as opposed to some of the other music students I spent hours in classes with, I heard very often, "We're studying music in such painstaking detail that when I go home, I can't stand to put any music on anymore." Meanwhile, I had the opposite experience. I was listening to music hours on hours of every day. Absolute immersion. After all, music is one of the most pervasive factors in our culture, but one thing we don't acknowledge often about music is that it is a foreign language, in almost every way. Now, I hear function, non-harmonic tones, form, derivation. It really is a different world.

It wasn't just the music in my life that changed. I learned quite a few things about myself these past 3 years. Here goes:

• I've learned that I can live reasonably happily in a living room crammed full of gear for upwards of four months. When people heard that I was living this way my first semester in Athens, they thought the world had come to an end...creature of comfort that I am.
• I've learned that I don't need a heated home. I definitely prefer one...but I don't need it. For that first year-and-a-half in Athens...no heat.
• I've learned that I am the worst "do-nothing" vacation person ever. I have to have something to do. When I don't have 6 projects to complete at once, life seems to move at a crawl. It never did that before.
• Another music one: I've learned that I can enjoy some weird music. Now, I don't necessarily mean the crazy 20th century atonal stuff (although I am learning to appreciate it)...I'm talking weird electronic, noise music (I'm not being facetious--it actually is referred to as noise), and in the last year, I've even taken part in some of this crazy music making.
• I've learned that being a performer is 1 part performance, 9 parts wait in a room for hours playing cards until its time to go into a big ballroom and perform.
• I've learned that it is very difficult keeping in touch with people while working on an advanced degree. It feels sometimes that a vast percentage of college was spent just hanging out, basically living with the people you had bonded with. I live in Athens only a few miles away from some of those people I spent countless hours with...I see them only a few times a year. It's sad, and it's definitely my fault.
• I've learned that most everybody gets married in their mid-twenties. I've been to so many weddings in the past 5 years that I can't even figure it. It's even crazier now that I'm singing at a lot of weddings...The older I get, the fewer single men there are to catch the damn garter. Although it seems that the melee surrounding the catching of the bouquet just gets more and more violent. I've caught (completely against my will) 5 garters. Five. One just sort of landed on me. One I actually caught. With the other 3, I was simply the closest single man to the garter when it hit the floor, followed by a sharp whisper, "Dude, for the love of God, help me out here. Pick it up."
• I've learned that the purchase of homes and the having of babies marks a huge psychological step into "adult demeanor." I'm not saying that some of these people are any less the goofy kids I knew...but I hear them talking about things like insurance, mortgages, the frequency and color of baby poop. Things definitely change.
• I've learned that after living in Rome and going to Berry...The UGA and Athens experience was a massive culture-shock. I had never lived in a world where the entire town shut down for a football game. I had also never had beer spilled on me in public. This happens reasonably frequently now. Even in the Applebees. I had also never suspected that a vehicle in my line of sight was being operated by a drunk driver. Now, I can be pretty sure. I also never saw anyone actually get arrested in real time. Now, I see it just about every time I'm downtown.
• In Rome, if I was at a party, it's likely I knew almost everybody. In Athens, I know almost no one.
• In Athens, I learned that even with a "Walk" crosswalk light...you cross the street at risk of life and limb.
• In Rome, parking was the easiest thing on the planet. In Athens, parking is a nightmare even in the summer.
• I've learned that when you're pursuing an advanced degree, you don't get the "What are you going to do with that?" question that you'd get in undergrad.

And there are many, many more. It's funny to look back over a significant period of my life and see how much has changed. It is 5 years since I finished college, 8 since high school. I've started getting the "Wow, you're getting old" comments at birthdays, and I no longer ignore commercials that offer savings on car insurance. It's definitely funny.

And now, on to the next chapter. Doctorate. This one will be pretty wild; I can already tell.

And of course, I'll be here to tell you all about it.

TUNE OF THE DAY:

Vitamin C- Graduation Song

I decided to post a link to the most horrendous graduation song I could possibly find. The first time I heard this song, tears welled up in my eyes from laughing at how ridiculous it is. And later on, music theory made me laugh at it harder when I realized (also thanks to Rob Paravonian) that they relied on the falling fifths progression for this one.

REAL TUNE OF THE DAY:

Rachmaninoff had big hands

You didn't think I was actually going to leave you with Vitamin C, did you? Well, here is something to scratch the "That's Awesome!" itch you might be feeling. A little demonstration of how someone with smaller hands might play those massive Rachmaninoff chords.