people are nice

some examples:

Ella (friend, horn player, Icelandic) and I arrived in Kilchberg to find pouring rain and the wrong bus.  She thought she might ask the bus driver how close he would stop to the church, and it turned out the drivers were just about to have a shift change, and the one who was just going off-duty actually DROVE US IN HIS CAR to where we were going.

Earlier, on the train, I realized that I had left the endpin for my bass at home (it's a long story why it wasn't with my bass, involving having a lesson on a different bass and leaving mine at the church, etc etc) and was not planning on returning home for two nights.  This would mean six rehearsals/concerts with no endpin.  What to do?!?  Ella made a few calls, got the number of this Latvian guy (Raitas is his name) who lives not too far from me, but whom I had never spoken to, and who would be arriving only for the second rehearsal since he was one of the vocal soloists.  Before he left, he went over to Efringerstrasse, my roommate let him in, and he picked up the endpin for me.  So Great.

(Also, she gave me some Icelandic money, in exchange for one of the new pennies, which she quickly proclaimed to be "just shit.")

And, she told me all about this really stunning version of "If you're going to San Francisco" and even sang it for me, truly enlivening my train ride home.  And now I will share the video with you.  Because I'm nice, too.




Bass wheel saga... I should have just replaced the wheel by now.  But instead, I've tried to just fix the old one, spending nearly the same amount of money and roughly 7x as much time as I would have otherwise.  There have been some helpful people along the way.  I should mention them.  Marcel, of course, at Druckwerk, has done a lot of drilling, fixing, finding parts, tightening, re-tightening, finding new parts, etc.  Also some guy at this random machine shop I went to near Voltaplatz (how's that for the name of a neighborhood?) drilled, fitted parts, and assembled, all out of the goodness of his heart.  (Unfortunately, his fix didn't work, and as I was wheeling my bass through the Zurich main station I heard some little "ping" noises behind me just before the wheel completely fell apart.  I went the next day to the Home Depot equivalent [OBI] and found some parts that worked well enough to keep me going until the next fix.  Why have I not just replaced the whole wheel?  My stubborn nature, I can only assume.)

Oh, my roommate, of course, who allows me to not give her my rent until I get paid.  Wow.  So nice.

Also nice are plants.  I finally replaced the ones that died over the summer with a couple for the indoors, an orchid and a succulent.  I was so busy admiring them this evening that I accidentally turned my roasting potatoes (thinly sliced) into incredibly delicious potato chips.  What a delightful mistake.

late night blog writing

It's nearly midnight here, but it's been a while (and could conceivably be a while longer) so I thought I'd try to get something down.  Just got back from Zurich, where I played a concert (with choir), Pergolesi Vespers, ends up being nearly 2 1/2 hours without a break.  Goodness me.  The church (Predigerkirche) was interesting, built 1308-1350, and all white on the inside, with an impressive teal-colored organ.  There is quite a lot of ornamentation along the walls, including these fatty cherub/baby faces with pink-colored lips and bulgy fatty baby eyes.  (I was trying to find a picture just now but I could not.  Sorry about that.)  Tomorrow I'm off somewhere else, I think it's called Frauenfeld, to play Haydn's good old Creation.  Busy, busy.  Plus, classes begin this week.  Now you see why I can't find the time to write some blog, yes?

School!  I know you are wondering.  At first it seemed Very, Very Complicated.  A bunch of pieces of paper on a wall, lists of classes, teachers, things you had to sign up for, things you didn't have to sign up for, things you could sign up for if you wanted to, and no clear way to differentiate between all of these.  Another wall, with a list of all of us (who's on top? I'm so easy to locate.) and one of the classes we'd been assigned.  I got Generalbass, which basically translates to figured bass, which refers to the little numbers you see under the bass line of Baroque music, telling the keyboard player which chords to play.  My class, though, is not so much about that, as far as I can tell.  In fact, it's a 30-minute-per-week private lesson with a very thoughtful, gentle, scattered-seeming man whom I watched sit on a harpsichord (what?!) and who spent a number of minutes with his forehead scrunched up trying to decide what he would teach me.  In the end, he asked me to play some chords (d minor, A major, d minor, C major, F major, C major, d minor, A major, these are the chord progression of La Folia (from Wikipedia: "La Folía [also spelled "Follia"] is one of the oldest remembered European musical themes, or primary material, generally melodic, of a composition, on record"), for which, in the next couple weeks until our next lesson, I am to devise 6 - 8 variations.  I think I can handle that.
I am also to take something called the Kompactkurs ("compact course"), from which I can choose one of three sections (Medieval and Renaissance notation and theory; 15th century - late 18th century; Baroque and Classical notation and theory) this year and one next year, preferably sections 1 and 2 or 2 and 3 although it's not clear which they'll let me into.  Anyway, there are a lot of other classes offered, and let me just say I was Very, Very Confused trying to sort it all out. 
Fortunately, there's a gentleman on the administrative side (who also teaches lute) named Jeremy Llewellyn, he's from Wales, and hey, he speaks English.  In the chat we had, he explained that technically all I *have* to take each semester are lessons, Generalbass, and the Kompactkurs; I will need to get some more credit points, which can be had by attending other classes and also by playing concerts (so, score, for every gig I play, I can submit the program at the end of the semester and get credit points for it!).  But really, it took this man telling me the information before I understood it, because the signage is extremely complicated.  Even people who speak German think so. 
I have found a couple people to be friends with.  Yes, you may all heave a sigh of relief; little Megan will not be sad and friendless this year.  One of them is another American, Lydia.  She's a singer, and I'm told she's very good.  Perhaps she does not yet know how rewarding it can be to work with a bass player, but it is my plan to show her.

Oh, I'm sorry, I just realized I haven't included any pictures yet.  I've been leaving the camera at home, but I did get a few nice pictures before the weather turned rainy and Cold.

So lovely!  I was walking home from school when I noticed this bug on my shirt.  So I took its picture.

Also on my walk home, I passed by my favorite fountain.  Have I already included a picture of it?  Perhaps.  Well, here it is again.  Little Goat!

OK, lots going on here.  I initially wanted to take this picture for the little post bird on the bow of the boat, but then I noticed some loud noises, and a commotion.  Then it became clear that the loud noises were actually people, fake fighting and singing opera, acting out the staging right there at the Schifflände (ship landing).  Wow!  Pretty neat.

I think there's tons I'm leaving out here.  Playing with me in Zurich was another bass player, Sofus, he's from Norway, and does mostly modern orchestra playing.  We had a long discussion today about work, and rehearsal length.  Turns out modern orchestras here adhere to very similar rules and regulations as those in the States: 2 1/2 hr rehearsal time, break no later than 1 1/2 hrs in, etc, etc.  Why are these things lacking from the Historical Instrument orchestra world?  Because we're amateurs?  I know that's not true.  Because we're so thrilled to have the chance to play this old music that we don't mind going for 4 hours?  Again, it seems absurd.  In a country that loves to follow the rules as much as Switzerland, I'm surprised there's not any kind of system in place for ensuring that we have professional workplace conditions.  (Speaking of rule-following, Sofus told me that at some point he put his trash out on the wrong day, or in the wrong place, and the police went through it, found his name on something, and came and talked to him.  He almost got in trouble with the police!  Wow.)  Well, anyway.  I am happy to be playing this music, even if I sometimes complain about the conditions.

Well heck, it's almost 1 in the morning.  I guess I'd better get myself to bed.  Remind me to tell you a funny story about my endpin.

assorted

Not as warm as it used to be, here in Basel.  When it's cloudy and chilly, I have to admit feeling like it's summer (corrupted by the Bay), but when the sun is out, and it's still chilly, I know fall is on its way.  While I was gone, all the plants I'd been growing died (alas), but the one volunteer - hardy little bugger - managed to hold on, and now one of its tomatoes are turning red.  Amazing! 

I'm pretty confident it's going to be inedible; I think that particular tomato has been on the plant for a long time.  Still feels like an accomplishment.  Not my accomplishment, obviously, but one nonetheless.

This little bee seems to have died peacefully on the rug on our balcony.  I'm sure it lived a good life.  Probably even helped with my tomato plant.  Thanks bee.

Inside, meanwhile, we have some double-bass. 
Perhaps it is becoming clear to you how little I'm doing these days.  Recovering from my summer, maybe.  I practice around an hour a day (total... I'm working my arms and fingers back into shape); make food (today I made soup, yum yum), stare at the walls, eat, read, etc.  I did go have dinner the other night with Maria and Sam, Maria made stuffed bell peppers the traditional Translyvanian way, which involves boiling them for 40 minutes in this flour-water-milk-oil-fresh tomato juice mixture in a pot on the stove.  Delicious.  We also watched a lot of folk music from her country on youtube.  Do check out these videos:
Here's a band called Muzsikás performing with the famous Transylvanian singer Marta Sebestyén.  I can't really get enough of this one.  So good.
These people are apparently the most "authentic" musicians still around, seen here, playing a party.  It's this old couple, she's playing a "gardon" (which looks like a rustic cello) by hitting it with the bow, and using snap pizzicato on the strings at the same time.  Wild.

dodging the police

The sunset tonight turned everything pink.  My room, the street, the sky, everything.  It was incredible.  You know, clouds are different everywhere.  I had noticed the difference between Texan clouds and Californian clouds, but the point wasn't really driven home until I moved here.  Seeing all those Titian paintings, with those epic puffy clouds, I thought, Ha, You wish, Mr. T.  But you know what?  We have those here.  It's just a European cloud thing.  I don't want to say they're better.  But they're certainly more dramatic.

I'll try to get some pictures at some point.  In the mean time, I thought I'd share just a few things I've been noticing the past few days, through my jetlagged fog.  

First of all, I have seen more police in the five days since I've been back than I did in the six months I lived here in the spring.  How is this possible?  I don't know.  Active season, looking to up their quotas, something.  I was biking to Germany the other day and got a little confused about the route I was supposed to take; I knew right away I was going down the wrong part of the street, and what do you know, a police Mercedes pulled up next to me, rolled down the window, and shouted something in German.  "I'm Sorry!" I shouted back, still riding up this little hill.  "You are not supposed to ride in this part of the road!" the man shouted at me.  "I'm Sorry!" I shouted back.  "You cannot read the signs?" he yelled.  "I'm Really Sorry!" I shouted back.  Finally, I pulled over.  "Where are you staying?"  I hesitated because I was out of breath, maybe it was to my advantage.  "Klein Basel."  "So you come here all the time?"  "No!"  "First time?"  "Yes!"  (Lie.  But, it had been two months, in which time the excessive amount of booze in my system essentially erased any internal map I had developed here.  So, partial truth.)  "You need to read the signs!"  "Yes!  I'm Really Sorry!"  "[Rolling Eyes.]"  "I'm sorry!"  "Go."  "OK!  I'm Sorry!"  It was funny, at least.

Then today, I got my bus ticket checked for the first time.  It was all in order, of course; I try to be an upstanding citizen.  I've had two more near run-ins in the past 24 hours alone, so I am aware that I need to be even more upstanding than I'm already inclined to be.  I suspect Swiss police are particular sticklers for Right Behavior.

My ticket got checked on the way to another bass player's house, across town, where I picked up a bass of David's I am bass-sitting for the year.  Yes, that means two basses in my tiny, tiny room.  Kiersten suggested "maybe wood will become the new cotton to you; basses will feel like pillows or friendly clouds that came inside to keep you company" and that is possible, I guess.  It will actually be useful; I can string the bass up with an alternate tuning, and keep my brain in knots for a time.

I also went to school today, to try and figure out what my schedule is for next week (when classes start).  Interestingly, the secretary told me that I can choose my classes on the first day of school, next Monday.  What?  I asked her when to come, and she said I should just come.  What classes should I take?  There will be signs.  [Why Can't I Get Any Information?!?]  I said, "So, it will become clear to me when I get here?"  "Yes, yes."  Mmm hmm.  I'll let you know what happens.  Then I rode my bike home, very, very fast.

resuming bloggerly duties

Goodbye to California; to friends and family; to the ocean, tamales, and Barton Springs.  Hello Basel!  It felt a little heartbreaking to leave, but after my first day in town I can say that I'm thrilled to be back here.  It's really nice.  

It was kind of funny to put the blog on hold for the summer, since I had such a fantastic time and wanted to write all about it, but somehow I would have felt silly continuing this babbling from home.  And frankly, there wasn't the time.  At any rate, this may have been the best summer on record.  Do a google search, I'm sure I'm right.  How about a quick recap?

There was all that printing, of course.  Hours of challenging, satisfying, absorbing typesetting, designing, and actual press time.

Gaps between printing during those three weeks were spent soberly discussing deep topics with my colleagues.  Ahem.  By which I mean, I ate a ton of great food, drank what must certainly have added up to gallons of various microbrews (and is it necessary to mention each of the cocktails I got to try this summer?), ate cupcakes, and got my Funny back.  It only took a couple weeks to regain most of my vocabulary, and shortly thereafter the timing started to return.  Thank goodness.  I was nervous it (The Funny) had taken a crippling blow to the knees.  Let's hope that never happens.

I was certainly helped along by the two great weeks I spent hanging out with good old Sydney The Cat, too.  Best Cat Ever?  Yes.  It's not worth it to argue.  You will be proven wrong.

Then I went sailing.

Angel Island, fog.

And my, did I get sunburned.  After those 6 hours in the sun, I hitched a fun ride (Thanks H.!) down to Southern California to visit friends in Santa Barbara, some of whom miraculously arrived from Texas, others of whom happen to miraculously reside there. 

We went to the beach.

I am not unlike a small car.  This was on our way to my celebratory 30th birthday meal; on the way back I was a little more like a mid-sized sedan.  So.  Much.  Delicious.  Dessert.

And then to LA!  I knew making these boxes would be fun.  I was right.  Plus, I was fortunate to work with someone who not only understood my ideas for the box and figured out ways to make them work (and look even better than I had imagined), but was able to masterfully build 24 of them.  Amazing.  I helped, once he showed me what to do.  I don't want to brag, but I think we did a damn good job.

 

My goodness, look at that hinge.  Epic.  

We got to have a little beach time, too.  How about that.

Then back to the Bay, where another generous friend helped me silkscreen the image on the front of the books.  So many friends!  So much help!  My dad helped us with some last-minute registration issues we were having.  Then, we took an amazing trip up to the Headlands.  We must have hit the beginning of the Bay Area's famous Indian Summer, because it was heartbreakingly clear.

Immediately after he left, I threw a party for my book, which was fun.  All my friends came!  Thanks, everyone.  I bought as many varieties of 2-buck Chuck as Trader Joe's had, and we all did our best to sample each one.

How about that dress?  There's a Megan who is good at sewing.  It is not me.  

I only had a few days after the party to gather my things from where I had strewn them throughout the apartment, take most of the books to the storage unit, and, more importantly, hang out with all my dearies one more time before I headed off to Texas and what can formally be called Kitten Time.

My mom recently rescued this little kitten from an uncertain future.  She (Bug, the kitten) has a ridiculous and adorable scratchy little voice, and we were trying to get her to talk for us, but she resisted our efforts.  Oh well.  She's pretty cute even when she's not talking.  

I think my mom and I had plans to do a lot of things around Austin, but instead we ended up mostly lazing around the house.  Well.  That's not true!  Not only did my mom sew these great muslin slipcovers for my books, we also took a day to clean out my old closet, inside which I found some relics from childhood.  Here's an example:

There was a nice stack of little book projects I made as a young kid; it is somehow satisfying to know that you are the person you are even before anyone knows about it yet.

(my retainer-tightening key.)

I also managed to find the time to hang out on the East Side with some friends, and spend some very quality time floating quietly on my back in the cool, clear waters of Barton Springs.  Oh ideal pool, would that you could be everywhere I am.

From Texas, I flew to Boston, then took a bus to Northampton, where I got to stay with the incredibly wonderful Ms. JB.  We rode bikes around her little town of Hadley, Mass, past old houses with little farm stands in the front yards, across old bridges, and along the Connecticut river.

On the way home we stopped to look at some headstones from the mid-1700s.  Look at that incredibly beautiful ligature!  Rests.  Gorgeous.  The golden age of serif faces.  Warms my heart.

Speaking of a warm heart, I was in town because two great people got married.  (Sorry, M&B, I'll send you all these pictures ASAP!)

There was dancing.  I did it, too.

Yes.  I am wearing a gold skirt.  

The ceremony was beautiful, the location was awesome, and the beer was local and delicious.  (I'd recommend the Farmer's Brown Ale.)  And M & B got married!  One of B's friends sang them a song at the reception and I still have it stuck in my head.  ("Sigel-Goss, Gossel-Sigelman... Hey, hey, hey hey.")  And there was a square dance!  Have I ever gotten to dance at a square dance?  Not since elementary school, and I'm not sure I properly appreciated it back then.  It's fun, I'll tell you.  Having played at roughly a thousand dances, I knew what all the dance calls were, but somehow had never actually done any of them before.  And then there I was!  Helping the rest of my square with the Grand Right and Left.  Everybody swing your partner!  As an added bonus, the band played Indian Ate A Woodchuck, my favorite fiddle tune from the old Jades days.  I told J (my old bandmate, of course!) the next day and we cheered for our shared memories, and for the brilliance of the tune.

Here's a post-Jennie & Megan version on youtube.

Then, to NYC for three nights, hanging out with my oldest friend and his boyfriend and their two great cats, Walt and Tony.  Walt likes to be vigorously petted and will submit to being "stretched" and scratched all over his belly, and Tony favors a good game of fetch (yes, fetch).  "Go get it!" you shout as you pitch the pink folded pipe cleaner down the hall.  Tony hurtles after it, then brings it back and drops it, a little wet, at your feet.  Adorable.

Then a few hours in a plane (and some heavy sedatives) later, I found myself back in Basel!  It's already been a busy day and a half.  Bike-riding, seeing friends, playing the bass, what a relief.  And look at this incredible produce I got from the market today:

All that for Fr. 10-, and take a gander at those wonderful, crisp apples.  Late summer in CH seems to be my time of year.  All the produce I thought I couldn't get!  Chard, and butternut squash.  Here it is.  I even saw corn at the grocery store.  Not just for pigs, as it turns out.  You know what I could use, ahem, is some kind of wheel, that would show me what food was in season, and when.  Gosh, that would be so great.

Anyhow.  I miss everyone, so much!  And I'm very happy to be back.  What a wealth of good I have.  Lucky, I tell you.