Centered Simplicity

The New Horizons Program

A couple of weeks ago, I was invited to attend a free lunch-time concert, being performed and presented by the New Horizons Program, which is part of the Eastman Community Music School, here in Rochester. The concert was being held in an old historic church across the street from where I work, and featured two groups:  the New Horizons Chorus, and the Sine Nomine Flute Choir*; the latter is directed by my co-worker and great friend Jennifer Horn. Jennifer is the one who invited me, and also has pointed out the many musical opportunities that exist in Rochester, mainly related to the Eastman School of Music. 

The New Horizons program, according to their homepage (which is linked below), was originally “designed in particular for senior adults.” Jennifer had been sharing with me some background of the practices leading up to the performances, which she was conducting on her lunch break at work once a week. So, without question, I attended…

…and it was a nice experience! The concert lasted maybe 45 minutes, with each group performing several short, but not necessarily easy, pieces. To me, it was nice to see these seniors performing, both the flute choir and the vocal chorus. There was an obvious level of pride at performing, and afterwards, there was definitely some camaraderie amongst the performers. In my first post on the blog, I stated that I firmly believe that one of the biggest keys to a long life is to keep your mind active, and to me, this program is a great opportunity for people to get out, fulfill a passion, and keep their minds active.

So, on this blog, I’ve been having some fun with different types of writing; this post will be the first of what I hope will be several “faux” interviews.  I did pose the two questions listed, though basic, and Jennifer took her time and gave thoughtful answers:

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I'm Still Here...And So Is Everybody Else --OR-- The Journey Isn't Quite Over, Yet

It’s been a while since I posted. A lot has happened in the past few weeks…although in hindsight, I really can’t think of any one big thing.  It’s all life just being life. 

Oh yeah! Life was supposed to end this past weekend. And yet, it didn’t – life still is rolling on. And really the way life in general seems to work? Things go on, people move on, events happen, and another supposed rapture has passed us by.  

I read an article about the once impending rapture.  My favorite quote in that article went something like this:  this particular person is (was?) a member of a group that was prepared for the 5/2/11 version of the Rapture, and his quote was:  “People usually ask us, ‘What are you going to do if you’re wrong?’ To which I always reply, ‘What are YOU going to do WHEN we’re RIGHT?’”

Well, he was wrong. I’m waiting for the follow up interview. 

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See, on the East Coast, the world was supposed to end, or at least begin to end, at 6PM Saturday. (On a side note, when the world began, didn’t it also already begin to end?) Anyway, at 6PM Saturday, I was sitting with my little guy. We just finished eating dinner at the Dogwood Fair (a local annual festival). He had a hot dog, I had a burger, and we split a funnel cake. We were sitting near the band shell, where a local band was playing Freebird. He told me, “This cake is the sweetest thing I’ve EVER eaten!” The world could have ended right at that moment, and you know what? I’d have been perfectly OK with that.  And YES, I intentionally used the word PERFECT.  :)

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But the world didn’t end. And it’s a good thing too, because I have things I want to get done. My bucket list. I have people I want to see and places I want to go. Life gets in the way of what I want to do, but that seems to be what life does, right? So adjust we must. So, here are some of the things on my bucket list:

United Way Day Of Caring

(suggested music pairing:  That's The Way Of The World; Earth Wind and Fire)

So I participated for the first time in the annual United Way’s Day of Caring. I believe it is a Rochester event, but not national. Local news coverage:  Rochester D&C: United Way Day Of Caring I had heard about it before, but this is the first year the department I work in, as a whole, decided to pick an opportunity to complete. Because of the schizophrenic weather that exists, we picked an opportunity that had both indoor and outdoor needs listed to we could pick our preference. The opportunity we picked was to do some work for the Southwest (Rochester) YMCA.  

Good Enough?

So the weather this weekend was the best we’ve had in a long time…bright and sunny and in the 60’s. And I overheard a comment in the elevator this morning about how “it could have been a little bit warmer.” Really? And that is the introduction to this topic that I’m sure I’ll have to come back to periodically:

When is good enough actually good enough? 

Perfection is always out there, calling to us, sometimes daring us, sometimes mocking us, sometimes lying in wait to put a damper on what might otherwise be a success in the making. And I get the concept of striving to be the best, to push the limits, to reach for the stars and shoot for the moon.  But I’m going to make a definitive statement:  perfection is impossible.

Happy Mother's Day -OR- Who Am I? (Part 2)

(suggested music pairing:  I'll Always Love My Mama - The Intruders)

In my last post, I started to dive into the question of “who am I?” in terms of race and family background. This is answer #2:

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.  

As with most sons, we try to downplay things like emotions and feelings and compassion, but I had no choice. I am one of the most compassionate, emotional, “in touch with my feelings” men I know, and I blame/give credit to my mom for that. And the older I get, the more I realize that isn’t something to run away from, but to cherish. It adds to my uniqueness.  It is a big part of who I am today – and really, who I want to continue to be.

My mom was a mom to everyone, which I’ve also realized over the years is kind of special. Growing up, my friends and the friends of my sisters and brother were all gathered in the big bear hug that is my mom.  And over the recent years on Facebook, as I’ve gotten in touch with some of my sister’s friends, usually one of the very first things they say is how great my family was and how caring my mom was to them.  

My mom (and her family) had a tough childhood…probably not much different from any other poor black/Cape Verdean family growing up in the 50’s…but still tough. And as with most parents, their main goal is to raise their kids to “have it better than they did.”  That was definitely echoed often growing up.  As I mentioned in my last post, my parents met and married in New Bedford MA and moved to Philadelphia where my dad found a job. We lived In Philadelphia. North Philly. From what I understand, we lived there until I was roughly two years old, when my parents moved out to Phoenixville, into a two-bedroom apt. We lived there for four years until they bought their first house on Bridge Street in town, where we lived for twelve years. We then moved just outside of town, where my parents still live. That whole progression was made possible by the hard consistent work of my dad (there will be a Father’s Day post), and my mom raising us during the day while working weekend nights as a nurse. That lasted until we were all in school and old enough to where she could switch to work full-time days.  As an adult, when I think about all that, now that I can understand the context of all that, it’s amazing. And yet, it’s all under the “just being a mom” context.

As I said, I get my compassion and emotionality (if that is a word) from my mom. I get my patience from my mom. I get my caregiver side (including the part where I get involved more than I should!) from her. And I wouldn’t want things any other way. Which to me is the ultimate validation.

Happy Cinco de Mayo -OR- Who am I?

(suggested music pairing:  Peace - Horace Silver Quintet; see below for why)

You may be thinking “what could he possibly write about Cinco De Mayo?” The answer is not much. Technically Cinco de Mayo is a Mexican holiday, so I have nothing to relate to in terms of Mexican. However, I am considered to be “of Hispanic origin.”

I find that phrase interesting. It was on a form I filled out when I had to report to jury duty in March. I can’t remember if that was a choice under race, or nationality, but it brings up an interesting question I’ve often asked myself…and thought about in terms of my little guy. What am I considered? Who am I? Where am I from?

SO…here is the specific answer. I am Cape Verdean.  

The Cape Verde islands are a group of islands off the western coast of Africa. So, I have the physical characteristics of being African with some Portuguese mixing in. Culture and family wise there is also a blend of African and Portuguese. Someday I am going to do more research on my family, but if I remember correctly, both grandparents on my mom’s side, and my grandfather on my dad’s side, emigrated from the Cape Verde Islands in the 1900s with their parents – my great-grandparents. They immigrated to New Bedford MA, where the majority of my relatives live, including most of my close cousins, aunts and uncles, and my grandmother.   http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_Verdean_American  Somehow, my paternal grandfather ended up in Baltimore and then Pittsburgh, where my dad was born and raised as an only child. My mom was born and raised in New Bedford. Then, as my dad went into the Air Force, and was stationed for a while in New Hampshire, so his parents moved back to New Bedford, and that is where my parents met.  My parents moved to Philadelphia where my dad found a job, his parents followed, and then I came along as a PA baby.  

Thoughts on Osama bin Laden

Just some short thoughts on the news of bin Laden's execution.  I'm not really sure what to call it, actually.  Taking out?  Killing?  Death?  Assassinated?  Anyway...on to the questions:

Am I happy that he was found and captured?  Yes, COMPLETELY.

Am I happy that he was killed?  I'm mixed.  For the potential symbolism, well, see below.  But, and I know this may be a very unpopular opinion, and yes I am putting myself out here...who are we as individuals or as a people to decide who lives and who gets killed in the name of a "moral victory"?  I'm going to rest my opinion on the belief that his capture was not going to happen, that he was going down swinging and to that extent, yes, I can accept his death.  I saw a post of a quote that I think highlights my internal struggle:

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

Do I see this as a symbolic event?  Too soon to tell.  It could be.  In my mind it’s dependent on what we do going foward...

Are things going to change in this country for the better?  I hope so...And I'll leave it at that. 

Are things going to change in the world?  Again, I sincerely hope so…but…

…is terrorism defeated?  No. 

So, the intentionally rhetorical question I’m left to ask is this:  if the killing of Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden has not ended terrorism, what will?  If anything?

…or is the potential answer that, as Americans, now that we’ve symbolically avenged those who were killed in the 9/11 attacks and since, do we need to adapt our views of, and reactions to, terrorism?

FINALLY, what should never go unsaid is that all of us should be grateful and thankful for all of the members of the Armed Forces, first responders, EMTs, firefighters and the good police officers out there, who have literally put their lives on the line for the freedoms that we have (and sometimes take for granted) in this country.  I often poke fun at clichés but this is one that could never be said enough.