Who doesn't like junk mail? Ooo Ooo! I KNOW I KNOW! I don't! Back in 1971 I attended the Berklee School of Music. The year before I went to a community college which was really just an extension of high school. I always liked music. My father was a natural musician as well as a natural artist. I didn't inherit his artistic talent at least not to his extent. I could cartoon but I wasn't very good. I did inherit his musical talent at least to a degree. I learned the guitar by listening to records and figuring out the songs. Most of my friends played an instrument or thought they could and it was a lot of fun to get together in somebody's basement and make a lot of noise. So I made the big decision to go to music school. While I enjoyed the atmosphere of the school I was in over my head. There were people who were much better musicians than I was. They could play rings around me and there were people who barely hold their instruments. Clearly the school made a good chunk of their money from people who lasted a semester or a year or just never graduating with a degree. I don't say this as a knock on the school because business is business.
Reading music was not my strong suit. Actually a good skill to have when attending music school. It was easier for me to read for piano than it was for the guitar and that was my main instrument. Just me and a bazillion other guitar players.
I had a class called ensemble. There were six or seven of us, all guitar players. The teacher handed out the music. We were to play a piece of music and we all had different parts of the arrangement. The teacher gave the downbeat and we started to play. It was awful! We all started to snicker because it sounded so bad. The teacher, who had a thick accent, from where I didn't know, listened for about a minute or so as our laughter grew louder. Suddenly threw his hands and shouted, "I CANNOT STAND IT ANYMORE!" and stormed out of the room.
Why do I bring this up? After 46 years and 6 or 7 moves, Berklee found me again. I received mail from them and what do you think they want? Money. Well they ain't gettin' any from me.
The line up of people who attended and those who actually graduated is pretty impressive. Many write movie and television scores. Well known jazz musicians. Dianna Krall, Quincy Jones, Steven Tyler of Aerosmith, Mellissa Ethridge and Tony Bennet and so on. By the way I paid for it myself. Back then in 1971 it cost $1,000 a semester. Fortunately the company I just retired from had a store two blocks up the street in the ground floor of the Prudential Tower in downtown Boston. After school I would walk to the store and work until 10 or 12pm. Those were long days.
Let's see, what else is going on? Oh yeah...I'S FRIKIN' COLD! It was 9 degrees when I woke up this morning. It's been cold for several days now. Coupled with the wind it's been below 0. Then we have our special guest star on Tuesday, a blizzard! It looks like we will get about 12 inches of snow. Last week the temperature hit 70 degrees. Hopefully this is winters last gasp.
So that about wraps up this entry. Arlene is going to make me linguini and meatballs this afternoon. Then in two days I see shoveling in my future.
I'm outta here.