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This is a good credo, and one that I try to live by ("all Einaudi, all the time" ). I'd rather have a narrow repertoire that I find emotionally fulfilling than be well-rounded yet indifferent to what I'm playing. One of the nice things about being strictly amateur is that I don't get hounded by a lot of requests!

...incidentally, can't wait for your next book to come out! I hope you'll let us know when the official release date comes around.

"I'd rather have a narrow repertoire that I find emotionally fulfilling than be well-rounded yet indifferent to what I'm playing."

Great quote Monica! I also think that the audience would agree.

I will certainly let you know about the book! It's a long stretch between now and next spring, but when the time comes, you'll be the first to know. Thanks.

Ok, it's Monica by a nose; I know when I'm beat, even when it takes a photo-finish to be sure.

However, I'd like to be the second, third and fourth in line to sign up for the advance order. One for me, one for Darlene, one for Stahl.

Have you chosen a title yet? Hal Leonard publishing it again? If you'd like to tell us a little bit about the book, it might tide some of us over until the release date.

Will Humpty Dumpty and the black swans be on the cover?

Thanks, Clef! Working title is Waltz of the Asparagus People, but that may change. Book is a non-fiction collection of stories about making music and raising an American family in Europe. Some of it's funny, some of it is serious. I'm excited about it!

Publishers:
Buecken und Sulzer/German International Print Rights
Bass Lion/ English International Print, Digital, and Audio

xoxo to you, Darlene, and the fabulous Stahl.

Waltz of the Asparagus People--- I like it. Don't let the marketing people twist your arm, this is one of those thunderbolts of intuition, and people will recognize it... intuitively. Ok, maybe it's the heat lightning of intuition. And ok, maybe asparagus is a cool-season vegetable. And as for Marketing, I would put them in the same general category as wedding planners.

My new collection bears the working title, Dragged Through Life by the Pianist. Think it has nothing to do with weddings? I'm not so sure, not so sure at all. Ok, so I don't expect it to be reviewed in Brides Magazine. And ok, so the marketing guys might shrink in horror, and I have no intention of letting the wedding planners get hold of it, them and their clipboards. Maybe I should, after all, entitle it something like Against My Better Judgment; no lightning striking dangerously near, but it's better than explaining the title to one talk show host after another. Especially Letterman; all I could say is, "And who should know better than you?"

"The simplest and perhaps most cynical explanation for your expertise when playing your own compositions is that they don't often wander outside your comfort zone. This is undoubtedly true to some extent. But I suspect there's more. It's always easier to play music you can really "hear"; music that is not a collection of written notes, shapes, fingerings, accents and forced co-ordinations of RH and LH parts, but a coherent sound that you are making as a whole. You play with good technique because you are playing essentially without "technique", you are playing with feel. Keep it up. There's music down that road."

It's true that I play, pretty much, up to the limitations of my technique, and get around it by multi-tracking. The tactic benefits from a keyboard track that doesn't hog all the bandwidth... and I've had thirty years to polish some of these pieces up. That's one reason I'm taking lessons now: I'd like go somewhat beyond what my fingers don't know how to do. It is very illuminating to see how other composers write; the written page and what they do with the hands takes you into their mind more than just hearing a performance. The truth is, they write for players.

It's the funniest thing about composing, though. It is like I "hear" it first; as if I were 'tuning in' to the music, like it was coming from somewhere else. Then I have to learn to play it (sometimes I can't--- another reason for studying now). I'm always surprised at the way it sounds on piano.

Which reminds me--- better get practicing. My teacher moved the lesson up by a day, and I've got to do a little housecleaning, since he comes here. My idea of the minimum hospitality of the house is having a bathroom where you're not afraid to sit down, and a piano lid where you can't write your name in the dust.

On a different (but related) topic: Happy Birthday, Robert Schumann. June 8, 1810. I have the impression that Clara also felt dragged through life by the reproductive organs. Her great enthusiasm for bearing her first child cooled down, enough to have been noted by biographers, for numbers Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven. Given the known inconveniences of womanhood, I would think the expression might apply even more to the ladies. It’s like the chain drive said to the rollercoaster, up at the very top: “Brakes? What is that?”

Oh, Waltz of the Asparagus People is so much better a title. You know, for one thing, that the action must take place either at a ballroom or a Farmers’ Market.

That title is quite a mouthful and you missed the opportunity to use one of the best sounding words in the German language. Did you consider "Waltz mit spargel"

for some reason i am reminded of the watermelon boiling Germans in the 'Accordian Tales'.

Ha! I'm laughing and in pain at the same time. I truly think weddings are some of the most stressful gigs on the planet.

Here's my scorcher - I was approached by a bride who had a stack of classical music for me. It was a bit intimidating, but I thought "Hey, I'll get paid to practice". This lady was of the "A++ type" personality and decided she wanted to audition me every week to see how I was doing. Again, a bit of a stresser, but the challenge was intriguing.

4 months later (!) the big day came and I was running late for the wedding. By the way, this happened back in my college days, so I was even later to events than I am now. Also, I was a poor college boy, so my car was a pitiful 1964 Toyota Crown (anyone heard of that one?)

I was flying pedal to the metal trying to get to the church on time when my shift linkage broke. Now I only had 4th gear.

Mentally, I went through the upcoming intersections and decided that if I kept rolling, I could make it in 4th gear.

Lug... lug... lug... my poor car was bucking like rodeo horse, but I made it to the church just in time.

As I walk in the side door, the bride tells me "The Organ is right over there".

"Organ? What?!!! I don't play the organ!" I replied.

She went from a stressful bride to a murderous looking woman and tried to get me to play the organ. I guess she thought if you can play classical music on the piano, you can just as easily play it on the organ.

I told her that I'd play all of the prelude music on the piano and then play the recessional on the organ. She had to agree - it was time to begin.

I played the prelude music - I think I did a rather good job. Then, after the ceremony began, I snuck around to the organ. Here's where the real trouble began.

I had no idea how which knobs to select. All I could remember was that when I was a young kid messing around after church on the organ, it always sounded great when I turned on everything. (ha)

So I turned on everything. What I didn't know is that I was turning on chimes, bell sounds, and everything else this beast could produce.

The ceremony dragged on....

With a bit of time to kill, I noticed that the organ had pedals, and thought "why not?". So I silently practiced what I thought would sound good.

Unfortunately, I didn't know that organ pedals will only produce one note at a time. If you press two, the sound will oscillate wildly, kind of like a bucking rodeo horse. Kind of like my car.

My big moment came, and when I hit those famous chords, the organ did begin to buck, bringing most of the church with it.

I got dagger eyes from the bride all the way down the isle. Haaa!! It's still funny.

Unfortunately again, I had no idea why the organ sounded like a broken ship engine, so I played on.

As soon as I could, I snuck out the side door.

Unfortunately for the third time, the bride and groom had exited the church and were making their reception line right in front of my 1964 Toyota Crown.

I tried to get in my car without her seeing me, but no luck. Dagger eyes looking in my car!! Yikes.

I then remembered that I only had 4th gear.

Yep, you know what happened. The bucking keyboard player lurched and bucked away from the church in front of everyone. Bang, crash, buck.

Very funny.

I don't do weddings anymore.

Well. That bride (Wilma von Weasel makes a return appearance) deserved the Sci-Fi organ sounds for forcing you to rehearse for her every week to "see how you were doing." She must have been extremely evil, that bride. Wonder where she is now? We could send her a "Let's Talk Weddings" group greeting card for her anniversary.

Funny, isn't it (or maybe not) how many civilians assume a pianist can play an organ.

Thanks for posting this story here, David. It's a wonderful tale, especially the Toyota Crown part. I always say that getting to the gig is the hard part. For me, this was extra-true when I lived in New York City, where a ten minute trip could take two hours. Anyone here ever try to get crosstown while the Puerto Rican Day parade was happening?

There are NO weddings going on in Germany right now. World Cup madness has taken over. It seems even the most determined bride is no match for a soccer ball.

Some of these brides have watched more "Bridezilla" episodes than is good for them. Why, just last week one pitched the biggest snit because her sister tipped a beautician (behind the bride's back) because she didn't pluck the bride's eyebrows to suit her.

The bride had never heard of the saying, "You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear," nor had she heard of Jenny Craig. Pluck as you may, it's not going to take 75 pounds off.

The Waltz of the Asparagus People has made me rethink the title of my own collection. Though it may have less of a "jump off the shelf" impact, I'm liking the lower-key title, A Pocket Full of Awry.

Also reconsidered: the 'jiggler on the roof' can go on the cover of Greg's book. I see a cartoon for Asparagus, along the lines of the original jacket of Suite for Flute and Jazz Piano--- still in print (and even on the shelves) thirty years after its release.

I confess I'm a little surprised at the lack of weddings. Many brides might be oblivious, others might take advantage to snap up a bargain or to squeeze themselves into a long-booked month, where cancellations are granted only when there are no vital signs.

CLEF: I was wrong. There were several weddings at the castle last night. Three very small parties were in the lobby having cocktails during my regular Saturday night set. The joint was jumping, much to my surprise. Usually a bride can't stand having another bride around, but lasts night's groups were civilized. Nice people. I played all original material, people listened and applauded politely, and one of the brides sent me champagne. I was out of there at 8:30 and able to make the second set of a wonderful classical concert at the Kultur Zentrum in our village.

Jiggler on the Roof is a riot! A Packet Full of Awry is way too hip for the room, which means it's a perfect title for a book penned by you.

My husband John (who was in his twenties at the time) did a huge tour with Claude Bolling in the late seventies to publicize Suite for Flute and Jazz Piano. My mother-in-law still thinks that tour was the high point of John's career, because he got to be on the Tonight Show and Johnny Carson introduced him. I have a video of that somewhere--you've inspired me to dig it out!

Tonight we are going hear Lang-Lang in concert at the Ruhr-Rhein Klavier Festival. How's that for a spectacular way to conclude the weekend?

I'm relieved to learn that brides are not letting June go to waste at the Castle. I was about to examine the Earth, to see if it was still spinning on its axis.

Not that it's any further comfort, but yesterday was the anniversary of Trisha Nixon's White House wedding, later satirized in a movie that did for Trisha what Tina Fey has done for Sarah Palin (or more).

Alice Roosevelt Longworth also had a White House wedding. The Wiki article on her life was very spicy and worth a look, but I was not able to discover if hers was a June wedding. Some of her quips (as well as her glamorous and free-spirited public image) would have given Mae West a warm glow, including the scene of her cussing out the television set as she watched Richard Nixon's farewell address (which featured 'inspiring quotes' from her own father's private letters). So much for Trisha! I am glad to learn that this June's crop of brides' deportment has been seemly and gracious. After awhile, one starts to wonder.

I may have seen your husband's performance with Bolling and Rampal, at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley. So long ago, but still memorable. All the musicians were the best--- there's no other word for it. I still remember the bassist (each instrumentalist did a solo turn during the concert)--- a happy man with a million-dollar smile. Does that sound like John?

Further evidence that musicians, even those without the advantage of late-night well-lubricated clientele, have the best stories.

I've only got a couple of brief gig notes. We played a retirement community dance last Saturday evening. I use the word "evening" deliberately; the gig went from 7-10 pm. We probably could have gotten a club gig in afterwards. There were energetic early retirees, a sizeable walker contingent and everything in-between.

The posters advertising the affair made the genre of music clear. Old Time Rock 'n' Roll. It was sponsored by the "American Bandstand Club". In addition, we've played there before, two or three times before. These people know us. Nevertheless, there was the obligatory person who felt he had to make his grievance known. We were just too damned loud, even through the Safety Orange Ear-Protecting Headphones he brought with him. I'll bet all the people who were cheering after every song were too loud as well.

One more minor chuckle. There were posters around the Club House advertising upcoming events. One was a bit of participatory Dinner Theatre, "Tony Soprano's Retirement Party". There was a cautionary note: "For Mature Audiences Only".

organs can be stressful and i've experienced the bell thing. on an unfamiliar organ, it is difficult to ascertain which stop needs to go (ha ha) when you are sightreading. kudos to you David, for playing 2 pedals at once without practice.

and i reiterate, brides are the most difficult of people to please.. they are so INTO micromanagement.

Oh, I love, love love the guy with the orange earphones.

A musician friend of mine was playing in a cruise ship band that specialized in oldies but goodies. A geriatric guest had a heart attack while on the dance floor (it's strenuous to do "The Mashed Potato" with a walker), and died right there in front of the band.

The next day, I kid you not, the life insurance company for the Poor Man, sent a rep to the ship to determine if the band's volume had caused the heart attack. Really, the rep showed up with audio equipment and everything, and then tried to blame the drummer and the bass player.

I completely ripped off this story for a scene in Rhythm (my novel). It was just too ridiculous not to use it.

I hope they have a couple of ambulances standing by for Tony Soprano's Retirement Party.

Hey, did I ever tell you about the Murder Mystery theater company that showed up at the castle? They were hired for a corporate event. It was one of those deals where actors were "planted" among the unsuspecting hotel guests. Plan was, one by one, the actors would be "murdered." The guests would then have to figure out who was the murderer.

Okay. Fine. Problem was everyone on the staff knew about this, except for me. Nobody ever tells the piano player anything. I showed up for my gig a few minutes late and sat down at the piano. I was thinking, "wow, there are some eccentric looking people here tonight. Even more than usual." Then, THERE WAS GUNFIRE, and then a body fell down the steps. I flipped out and started screaming for an ambulance. An ambulance did come, but it was a fake ambulance, along with fake Polizei. Holy friggin dinner theater, Batman!

I had to be yanked out of the lobby by the valet, who told me what was going on. Meanwhile, the actors thought I was just playing along with them. The head of the troop offered me a job based on my realistic performance, but they were off to do a murder mystery in Slovenia and I had to be home to make lunch for my kids. So I declined.

I loved that chapter in Rhythm, Robin. Funny to think that it was based on real life!

...but you definitely need to work the mystery dinner story into your next (or some future) book. What a story!! Of course, it's hilariously funny for everybody who didn't actually have to go through the experience of thinking they had just witnessed a murder (= everybody but you!).

Hi Monica! That story isn't in my outline for the new book, but outlines are made to be tampered with. I hadn't thought of that episode in years. This forum is wonderful for jogging the middle-aged memory of this young-at-heart cocktail pianist.

Who, I wonder, will make the 500th post here?

"A musician friend of mine was playing in a cruise ship band... A geriatric guest had a heart attack while on the dance floor... and died right there in front of the band.

"The next day... the life insurance company for the Poor Man, sent a rep to the ship to determine if the band's volume had caused the heart attack. ... audio equipment and everything, and then tried to blame the drummer and the bass player."

It is not widely advertized, but cruise ships carry on board at least four or five coffins. They have learned by experience that many of their passengers are, well, old. The insurer who came out on the wrong side of the actuaries might better have sued the tempting buffet spread, the skimpy bikinis, the racy floor show, or the bingo tables--- they give more heart attacks than the bands.

As it happens, I know someone who passed away on his annual Caribbean vacation cruise. It happened very gently and naturally--- and he loved those cruises. Not such a bad way to go out. (There was no house band involved, by the way.) One suspects that the hospital cartel may have sicced the insurer on the cruise ship band, displeased that the insured dropped dead in his tracks from booty-shaking rather than enjoying an expensive hospital stay.

Well, blaming the drums and bass gives the rep at least a little bit of scientific credibility.

One of the shorter versions of the classic joke:

A scientific expedition disembarks from its plane at the final outpost of civilization in the deepest Amazon rain forest. They immediately notice the ceaseless thrumming of native drums. As they venture further into the bush, the drums never stop, day or night, for weeks.

The lead scientist asks one of the natives about this, and the native's only reply is "Drums good. Drums never stop. Very BAD if drums stop."

The drumming continues, night and day, until one night, six weeks into the trip, when the jungle is suddenly silent. Immediately the natives run screaming from their huts, covering their ears. The scientists grab one boy and demand "What is it? The drums have stopped!"

The terror-stricken youth replies "Yes! Drums stop! VERY BAD!"

The scientists ask "Why? Why? What will happen?"

Wild-eyed, the boy shrieks as he runs away,

" . . . bass solo!!!" -

I recall that there was a woman who decided to spend her final years on the QEII, because it was not that much more expensive than a good nursing home, and the care was at least as good. When they retired the ship, they moved her to the new one.