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PROGRAMMING NOTE from the Author and Archivist


So obviously I just stopped blogging on this platform. I'll get back to it eventually. Or not. I'm taking a break from all social media. It seemed necessary for my mental health.

The last few years have been busy and … challenging:

- 2015 Happened.
- 2016 Let's call it The Lost Year. (Obviously words failed me.)
- 2017 about broke me. Literally. Mentally.
- 2018 was ridiculous, proving 2017 was just a warm up. (Good thing I was already broken so it couldn't hurt as much.#2018TrashCanFire I thought things were going okay, but maybe not?)

- 2019 was such a blur. I know there were highlights, but then stuff happened and carried into the next year...

- And then in March#2020 really took a turn. Who can even categorize 2020? Do we dare?


I kinda want a do-over of some of the last few years. But life doesn’t work that way.


So for now, I'm hunkering down. Regrouping. Trying to stay safe and sort some stuff out.


Stay safe everyone. Stay well.

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Saturday, May 10, 2008

Concert Etiquette

With thanks to writer Paul Volpe, who takes a satirical look at audience conduct:

"I shall spare you the lengthy rant about the obvious blight of ringing cell phones or the agony of late arrivals stepping on our toes or that awkward moment when you find your orchestra seats being warmed by sheepish looking third balcony hopefuls. That said, let’s review the more obscure yet heinous crimes that might send us fleeing back to our home surround-sound and plasma-screen systems, and far from live performances that require us to be a part of a communal experience.

~Gentlemen, if you must snore, make sure your companion has sharp elbows.

~Fanny packs are never an acceptable “concert” accoutrement, save it for the mall.

~Humming is a crime that is almost forgivable as it’s committed unconsciously. Still, never, ever, hum along with the music – the musicians really don’t need your help.

~Never leave a performance before intermission, unless you are injured and bleeding profusely. While you may be “bloody bored,” those around you are not.

~Ladies, please do not bathe in your Clive Christian No. 1 perfume prior to a performance. Gentlemen, you might want to skip the cologne altogether; you are in close quarters, not the French Quarter.

~Refrain from leaping to one’s feet, zealously clapping and shouting “bravo,” while the rest of us are still waiting to hear the last glorious notes of the aria.

~Dress appropriately. We all know that causal attire is encouraged these days, but let’s keep casual from becoming catastrophic. Shorts and a tank top might be appropriate in Branson, Missouri, the home of country music, but not in Avery Fisher Hall, the Home of the New York Philharmonic. As a young man I would attend such musical evenings wearing a borrowed jacket and dress pants purchased from the Salvation Army. I made an effort despite my “standing room” or “student ticket” status and rose to the occasion on limited funds while showing respect for the performers and fellow audience members.

There is no substitute for a live performance, whether it is ballet, classical, jazz, or soul. Miss Aretha Franklin demands, and gets, what she literally spells out for us – R-E-S-P-E-C-T. And that’s what other audience members and performers on stage deserve from us."