Silence is golden, but jazz is jumpin'

I just don't listen to music as much as I used to. As I've gotten older and acquired a more stress-filled life, I like having no TV or radio on at home, especially when the windows are open this time of year. I like hearing the birds and the wind. Of course, Jav and I are apparently extremely old-fashioned and haven't quite endorsed the whole IPod thing just yet. I thought about asking for one for Christmas this year, but we've decided to ask Santa for living room furniture instead. Being an adult is just no fun sometimes.

I still like listening to music when I'm working, though, and have decided that the best kind of music for me to concentrate to is jazz. This is a wide-ranging category, encompassing big band classics like Frank Sinatra, hard-core improvisational Charles Mingus and the old-school countrified jazz of Norah Jones. No other type of music gives me more energy, or a clearer head to concentrate. It's also music that makes me happy. I credit this to my maternal grandparents. I spent a lot of time in their house, and they always had on Guy Lombardo, Glenn Miller and Benny Goodman. They were old school about their jazz. I remember taking them the When Harry Met Sally soundtrack to hear Harry Connick, Jr. for the first time. They thought it was a bit too jazzy for them. I remember them saying, "That's nice, but they lost the melody somewhere". But I kept listening and delving deeper.

It may be goofy to admit, but I really started this love affair when Sting left The Police and made a whole album combining jazz and pop (Dream of the Blue Turtles). I've always loved Sinatra and that big band sound, but I branched out to Tony Bennett and the late great Bobby Short. I determined that sometimes smaller is better, and began discovering that the intimacy of a small combo is just as satisfying as a 16-piece orchestra. I found Wes Montgomery, jazz guitarist extraordinaire. And Oscar Peterson, a large, large man with exquisite touch for his piano. I discovered, quite by accident, a band that has become one of my absolute favorites. Dave's True Story is a smart, sassy combo out of New York with a singer whose voice slips over the clever lyrics like molasses. They had one song, Winter Wonderland, on a Pottery Barn Christmas compilation, and I searched online for them to find more. One of my dreams is to hear them live, but they only tour East Coast.

Check them out here





Currently, I want to search for some Lionel Hampton, Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, and Sarah Vaughn at Half Price Books.

But the nearest and dearest to my heart is still Big Band. I would lose track of myself without my Artie Shaw CD. My Deserted Island list would include my Best of Ella Fitzgerald. I guess it just makes me feel six again, safe in my grandparents living room, my grandfather dancing with me standing on his feet, my grandmother jitterbugging with her broom behind us. I guess it just makes me feel that love all over again.

Packing, Moving, Baseball

These are the three things that have kept me from posting recently. We have upped our move date from 11/19, to 11/12, and now it's 11/5. Yikes!! I've gone from thinking I had PLENTY of time to slightly panicking to being absolutely freaked-out within one week. We close on Oct. 28th. On the 29th we have the flooring guy out to give us a quote, on Halloween we will get the foundation repaired, and the rest of the week will bring new fencing, new security system, a new wall (hopefully), and a new fridge delivery.

I've been pondering why I get so panicked about things. Why am I not a calmer, more laid-back person, like my husband? I guess in that department we truly do make up one whole person. I bought a meditation how-to book about a month and a half ago. I did the first exercise, felt pretty silly the whole time, and haven't picked it up since. Not sure if it's the silly feeling or a time issue. Probably a combination of both. Luckily it was only $4 at Half Price Books, my new favorite store.

But I've found a substitute for sitting cross-legged on a pillow humming mantra to myself. It's called Henry. I can pick him up and put him in my lap, and pet him for a good 15 minutes while my brain takes a break and thinks about nothing. I already knew that petting an animal lowers your blood pressure, but I didn't know it could save your marriage and keep you from being put in a padded cell! My husband uses baseball (or any sports, but this time of year baseball is king!) for this calming effect. This works for me to a point, but it doesn't shut down my "what do I need to be doing instead of this" voice. Only Henry works.

Now if I could only train the pets to help me put STUFF in boxes instead of themselves.

No Hablo Espanol

My mother-in-law has a fantastic sense of humor. The reason I know this is because everyone in the room laughs at her jokes. Except me. I am looking at my husband, waiting for a translation. Then I laugh, after everyone else in the room has become quiet again. My husband thinks that my Spanish is as good as his Mom's English. Which is actually not bad, but we are both suffering from a low confidence level and are afraid of trying and making a silly mistake.

When we went to Monterrey to visit La Familia just after Christmas last year, my Spanish started really coming back to me, at least in my head. There is something to that immersion concept. But the one time I tried to speak out loud, I told Javier's male cousin that he was my favorite out of all the cousins. Which would've been great, only I used the feminine version of cousin instead of the masculine. I was horrified. He was very nice about it and laughed, but I haven't tried to say anything out loud since.

I can't believe that after 6 years of grade school Spanish and 3 years of college, I can't form a sentence. I can say, "Hola, como esta?" and "Bien, gracias", and simple phrases like "bonita camisa" (pretty shirt) and "la comida - deliciosa!" (the food - delicious!") But I always leave out the verbs! I know I'll just screw up the verb tense, so I don't say it at all. Which I'm sure sounds worse than screwing it up, but I'm just SO afraid.

So my new goal in life is to have conversations with my mother-in-law. I thought about asking Jav to speak to me only in Spanish, but I'm afraid that might make me frustrated and lead to a fight. I may try leaving our TV on Spanish overdubbing, all the time. I might subscribe to a Spanish newspaper. All I know is that I refuse to give up on this project (like so many others I have started). I want to be able to converse with my husband's family, whom I now consider my family. There's just only so much nodding and smiling you can do!