Music? What music?

I had some music blasting in my living room the other day, and I was freely enjoying the composition of sounds when my cat sauntered through the room, making absolutely no sign of recognition that there was anything, any sound, different. I picked him up and held him close to a speaker and still there was no reaction other than that which he normally gives as he doesn't like to be picked up.

I don't think this is unusual behavior for cats (all animals?) and it got me to thinking that perhaps music, the creating and the understanding of and the appreciation of, is what sets man apart from the animal kingdom.

Why is it that an animal that can hear and recognize the distinct "pfft" as the opening of a can of cat food from the complete opposite end of the house, can make no recognition to a blend of music notes? Even my children practicing their piano doesn't make the cat react (and I mention this not because the music is 'bad' necessarily, but for the fact that it is live music, rather than recorded). What is it, then, that puts music apart from other sounds for the animals? Is it, perhaps, too many sounds all at once and so it is ignored?

Do dogs react differently to music? I'm thinking of fictional accounts, such as the recent Harry Potter series, in which at one point during one of the books (I forget which), to get past a nasty three headed dog (I did say this was fiction), music would put the dog to sleep.

William Congreve's often mis-quoted quote "Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast" is often used to suggest that wild animals can be calmed with music, but the quote itself, from his play The Mourning Bride is actually used in reference to an inanimate world, and in question, rather than an actual, statement of fact. Here is the entire character's line:

Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast, To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak. I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd, And, as with living Souls, have been inform'd, By Magick Numbers and persuasive Sound. What then am I? Am I more senseless grown Than Trees, or Flint? O force of constant Woe! 'Tis not in Harmony to calm my Griefs. Anselmo sleeps, and is at Peace; last Night The silent Tomb receiv'd the good Old King; He and his Sorrows now are safely lodg'd Within its cold, but hospitable Bosom. Why am not I at Peace?

And so, to continue with my thoughts, why don't animals (or my cat leastwise) recognize or appreciate music? Is it, as I suggested, too many sounds at once, conflicting for an animal's attention?

Why do humans enjoy music so much that we often have it playing as background for our daily lives, yet animals seem to not even notice its existence?

Disposable.

In recalling my days in high school, I remember going to parties where groups of us would be gathered around the turn-table, listening to the latest album by Steely Dan or Chicago or some-such. We'd look over the cover and in some cases, check out the lyrics printed inside. When the album was done, we'd slip it back in the stacks, adding it to our collection of great music.

When CDs became the standard, things hadn't changed too much. The printing was smaller and we didn't have to flip the darn thing over to hear the whole "album," but basically it was the same. The CD would display nicely among the collection of music.

Today's youth don't know this feeling.

In today's disposable society, everything is temporary. Music is downloaded in compressed form, stored digitally in a device that is more compact than my wallet, and when the listener is through, the music is deleted and more is downloaded. Quantity and an ever-changing rotation of songs is what is important.

But when you visit a friend's home, how can you check out their music collection? What can you tell about a person simply by seeing an iPod on their coffee table? You can check out how many songs are in their playlist, and maybe the title of a song or two, but that's it.

Same goes for books. How can you check out someone's bookshelf when their books are in digital form as e-books? And what does the reader do when they are done with an e-book? They delete it, as if it doesn't exist except as a memory or something that was once read.

Perhaps it's because I'm a pack rat and I enjoy having my music on a shelf where I can look it over and select the music that fits my mood (or shapes my mood) for the day; and that I proudly display the books that I enjoy reading for every visitor to see, but I don't think I care much for the temporariness in today's pop culture.

Perhaps the entire culture will be tossed aside for something new and the entire digital age will be deleted.

Happy Birthday.

Despite my attempts to keep it at bay, I turn 45 today.

Reading Ionesco.

It has been a terribly long time since I sat down to read Eugene Ionesco simply for pleasure, and by God...I enjoy his writing!

I'm a bit of an Ionesco nerd, having read, researched, and writen about his plays, own copies of some of his hard-to-find children's books, and have a photo of him hanging on the wall next to this desk, so when I came across a collection of his short stories that I had not read, I was quite excited.

So far, I haven't been disappointed. His fiction is crisp (or that of the translator anyway), and the plots are absurd. I would expect nothing less.

I know that Ionesco is not for everyone (in fact, there are likely very few of us in the world who truly enjoy his work this much), but I find something very relaxing in the completely absurd world of Ionesco. Why is that? What is that? Is it simply nostalgia?

Fifth grade basketball.

I watched my daughter play tournament basketball today. My daughter is in fifth grade.

There were only three teams competing at the fifth grade level (twice as many at sixth grade maybe), and one thing was very evident -- my daughter's team doesn't take it nearly as seriously as the other teams. And this is a good thing!

As you might expect, there are some obvious stand-outs on each of the teams -- kids that have some natural talent and ability, and some who need a lot of work. One girl on my daughter's team tends to stand around with her arms folded across her chest. One seems to never know if she's offense or defense from play to play, and one who is generally afraid of handling the ball (my daughter).

But despite all this, all eleven girls on my daughter's team played nearly equal minutes for the entire game. On the two opposing teams, the stand-outs hardly ever sat out. Needless to say, our team got beat pretty badly in each round.

However...! In both games, the score was tied at the half, and it was the second half in which our girls just got worn out. Not surprising ... they only get together once a week, and they either practice, or play a game/tournament. And when they do practice, they only get half the court (sixth grade works the other half), so no surprise that they get worn out in an entire game.

But what I like about the way our coach is handling this is that it gives each of the girls the confidence to play to the best of their ability and to decide if they really like playing. A person who sits on the bench an entire game doesn't know if it's fun playing or not. These girls aren't stupid...they know which girls are the better players and who to get the ball to.

I've seem much improvement in my daughter's playing and confidence since they started. In the past, the few times my daughter ever caught the ball she would simply stand still and look for someone to throw it to. Today I actually saw her dribble a few times, AND dribble through and around coverage...not just taking it down court! I also saw her go after a loose ball and tie up her opponent to force a jump ball. I NEVER would have expected to see her that aggressive at this stage.

For a meek, book-wormish girl, this sporting activity is doing wonders for her esteem and confidence and comraderie. And she's having fun! She talks about it often. Now if the coach were to bench her for all but two minutes or so, she likely wouldn't be interested in continuing. One might think, 'Okay, but would it be so bad if someone who isn't good, quits?' But you really don't know if they might not develop in to someone good, if you don't play them and work with them. Sure, my daughter isn't likely to be the next Lindsay Whalen (UofM star basketball player now in women's pro on the Connecticut Sun WNBA team [and an intentional pun as my wife's maiden name is Whalen]), but she could become a decent support player given the opportunity.

I think about this because I can clearly recall playing basketball as a fifth grader. I was talent-less in sports, but I liked the idea of basketball. But any actual games that we played, I was put in only during the last minute or two of a half, and usually only because the coach had to play everybody. That got only pretty quickly, and I certainly didn't want to continue with it.

Bravo coaches Wade and Benson for encouraging all the girls to play their best!

Painful stupidity.

So...because I'm stupid, I broke my toe this past Saturday. It was me, a door, and some anger. The door won.

While I initially thought that I had broken my toe, after finally removing my shoe late Saturday night (about 15 hours after the door jumped out and got in front of my toe), I decided that the toe wasn't broken, but that my purple and cracked toenail would probably be a goner.

Today, after visiting the doctor, he said, "Well, let's just take a couple of x-rays, just to be sure." When he returned to the room after the x-rays had been taken, I could tell by his question ("Are you in a lot of pain?") that there must be something else going on. He showed me the x-rays and how the bone at the tip of my toe was askew.

Other than some pain reliever, there wasn't much he could do -- he said it might be five weeks before it heals. He offered to get me a "boot" to keep my foot flat so that I wasn't putting pressure on the toe, but did say that it wasn't necessary as long as I was careful with it (and that indeed the boot might be more cumbersome than anything else). I opted for no boot, but will be using a cane when I walk around.

Stupid. Sometimes I'm just stupid.

Recapping January.

I keep a hand-written journal of the books that I've read. On a whim, I decided to make an on-line version of that same journal -- I've found it's much easier to type my thoughts to a blog than it is to sit and write them by hand (though I do still copy the blog to a notebook).

Earlier in January, I thought it might be fun to keep a similar journal for movies I've seen. Being a subscriber to Netflix and having a great many movies available through my local public library, I thought that this might be a fun way to keep track of what I've seen.

And then... well, since I'd seen a few short plays in January, I decided to start a theatre review journal as well. You can see all these other blogs by clicking on the "view my complete profile" at the top of this page.

And now, looking back at these other blogs of mine, I thought I'd pick my favorites....

I didn't finish reading many books in January. This was mostly because of my time involvement with the one-act play at the local high school. And because I didn't get a lot of reading in, my pickings here were rather slim. Based on what I've got in my journal, I'd have to say that the best book that I finished reading in January was The Best American Essays 2004 collection. The fact that a collection, which contained many selections that I didn't particularly care for, was the best read suggests that I didn't fare particularly well with books for the month.

There were many more videos to choose from for my month's best. This too is a result of my busy schedule with the one-act. I found it rather relaxing to come home to unwind by tossing a movie in to the DVD or VCR. I think that the best movie I saw was easily Anatomy of a Murder. This really was quite a well-done film. The acting, the script, the direction, the score were all wonderful. Preminger's The Man With the Golden Arm was also much more enjoyable than I had expected (especially the jazz score!), but my second favorite was most likely a tie between Chocolat and Through a Glass Darkly -- both extremely well done films.

The best theatre I saw was the one-act play, Line by Israel Horovitz. This was well performed. As I mentioned in the theatre journal blog, my problem with Horovitz plays is that I feel he writes stock characters rather than actual people. This worked well, though, for this group of actors.

January seems to have kept me busy, and I can only speculate (and look at my calendar) to see what February holds in store.