Laurel Massé

A feast of words

This morning's NY Times referred to Connecticut Governor Wilbur Cross' 1936 Thanksgiving Proclamation (the holiday has to be proclaimed every year by the Federal government and the states).  A Shakespeare scholar, he taught at Yale for 36 years before entering politics. He knew how to write beautifully and with clarity.

(Not so easy to, like, find if someone what with these days. Also.)

Here is the full address: 

A Connecticut Thanksgiving Proclamation
State of Connecticut
By His Excellency WILBUR L. CROSS, Governor

Proclamation

Time out of mind at this turn of the seasons when the hardy oak leaves rustle in the wind and the frost gives a tang to the air and the dusk falls early and the friendly evenings lengthen under the heel of Orion, it has seemed good to our people to join together in praising the Creator and Preserver, who has brought us by a way that we did not know to the end of another year. In observance of this custom, I appoint Thursday, the twenty-sixth of November, as a day of

Public Thanksgiving

for the blessings that have been our common lot and have placed our beloved State with the favored regions of earth -- for all the creature comforts: the yield of the soil that has fed us and the richer yield from labor of every kind that has sustained our lives -- and for all those things, as dear as breath to the body, that quicken man's faith in his manhood, that nourish and strengthen his spirit to do the great work still before him: for the brotherly word and act; for honor held above price; for steadfast courage and zeal in the long, long search after truth; for liberty and for justice freely granted by each to his fellow and so as freely enjoyed; and for the crowning glory and mercy of peace upon our land; -- that we may humbly take heart of these blessings as we gather once again with solemn and festive rites to keep our Harvest Home.

Given under my hand and seal of the State at the Capitol, in Hartford, this twelfth day of November, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and thirty six and of the independence of the United States the one hundred and sixty-first.

Wilbur L. Cross

You can read more about Governor Cross here.

Things that matter: Writing

Thanks to Paul Overton over at Dudecraft (you'll find a link to his site in my sidebar), I have just discovered 826National, a non-profit national network that exists to help students learn the skills of creative and expository writing, and to love writing. These folks are doing important, inspirational work with a positive mindset. It's not a protest against anything. It's a movement for kids: for writing, for creativity, for fun, and for lighting the flame of inspiration and keeping it lit regardless of repeated efforts to blow it out (budget cuts and mediocre teaching come to mind as two puffs of wind I have experienced. Miss Kelly, I will, alas, never forget you.)

Be sure to take a few minutes to watch the video. It's a fine introduction to the work they do.

 

 

"This is, like, this?"

So maybe I already posted this, but I can't like, remember? but it's still good? and like, way true? you know what I'm saying?

via vimeo.com

What a tangled Web we weave...

There is a terrific article by Nicholas Carr on the subject of the brain, the Web, and memory in the most recent issue of Wired magazine. In it, he gives very good explanation of the mental process that dog trainers call "latent learning", which is the process of moving information from working memory to long-term memory, a process all too easily interrupted by distractions. He also suggests serious reasons to consider the up- and down-sides of the way the Internet is changing our brains.

He writes: The Internet is an interruption system. It seizes our attention only to scramble it.

Interested? Go read the rest here. Before you get distracted.

Thanks, Steve, thanks Apple, stop by anytime!

Little did I know, when using the word "jobs" in the title of my most recent post, that I would become a small part of yesterday's excitement about the new Apple iPad. All I knew is that I was starting to get a lot of hits on this blogsite. Now, I am a performer, and so at first I did think it was because of something I had done. But I couldn't think what. It was all quite bewildering until Stuart, a regular reader here, mentioned something about timing and getting lots of visitors, and when I questioned him about what he knew that I didn't, he told me about my "jobs" title intersecting with "Steve Jobs". The Steve Jobs whom everybody was googling for a day or two.

So, to those of you who visited looking for Steve, I am sorry he wasn't in, but am so glad you visited, poked around, and read some of my writing. I hope some of you will come again from time to time. I'll be here. And Steve, you are always welcome (do consider bringing me an iPad as a hostess gift).

Blessings to you all.

Jobs, and What I Learned

Because rain has been falling since yesterday and is probably not going to stop until tomorrow, because it is too wet to run errands but too warm to hide under the covers, and because I have been practicing lyrics in my head until I can only speak in rhythm and rhyme, I am taking a ramble through the great English-style Garden of Blogs. This involves reading one, liking it, going to another recommended by the writer of the first, then following that one's path to yet another, etc., etc. There are no straight lines (those would be found in the French-style Formal Garden of Blogs).

I initially started my own blog to do a lot of self-promotion, but it turns out that there are lots of other things to write about. Inspired today by a few folks who have been writing about jobs they have held, I thought I might list a few of mine, and what I learned by doing them. Some were a long time ago. Some may start again tomorrow if things don't start to look up...

1. Babysitter. I learned that a lot of good church folks have very naughty books hidden in their bookcases behind the books on the top shelf. That was how I got to read Candy, Peyton Place, and The Sins of Philip Fleming, while drinking the 7-Up and munching the Cheetos that were standard babysitter fare in those days.

2. Discount-store cashier. Before there was Wal-Mart on the East Coast, there was Caldor's. I learned that, given half the chance, I can be a vengeful God. When products came through the checkout line without prices, and there was no one available to check prices, I made prices up. People who were kind and courteous to me got discounts. People who were mean and rude got markups. Mea culpa.

3. Apprentice herbalist. In which I learned that plants will talk to you, if you leave off your wristwatch, sit still, and listen.

4. Dog trainer. Dogs communicate primarily with body language, and they know exactly what they are saying. Humans are less clear. We think we communicate with words only, but there is a whole lot going on with human body language that we don't even know we are doing. This results in mixed messages with dogs and with each other, and until we calm down, sit still, watch, and listen (see plants, above), we are unlikely to be able to train our dogs, or to have world peace anytime soon, either. I also learned that, when using a client's dog to demonstrate a training technique in a class, don't pick the Chow. They can wag their tails, smile, and bite you all at the same time, like too many folks in show biz. You have been warned. 

5. Assistant barn manager. OK, I started out just mucking stalls, which means, basically, shoveling shit (technical equestrian term). But I learned so much, because I was so highly motivated, having loved horses all my life, but not been able to spend any real time with them until I was in my 40s. I learned about noblesse oblige there, because there is no earthly reason horses should agree to be ridden, and yet, they allow it. About what it feels like to be prey, and therefore a little jumpy. About loving with all your heart, while still being a little detached, because if you form an attachment to someone else's horse, eventually, inevitably, there will be tears. And about being patient - yes, more being still, and watching, and listening.

There were other jobs, of course, but that will do for now. It is the stable job I miss most often, especially when I am in the thick of the least pleasant aspects of the music business. I know exactly why. In the barn, when there was shit to be shoveled, it was because there were actually horses, and very near.

NPR, for the Killian Mansfield Foundation

This past Wednesday, I was privileged to spend time with Barbara Mansfield, Killian Mansfield's mother. We were interviewed by NPR's Guy Rossz for this Sunday's Weekend All Things Considered, which is supposed to air today. It was an emotional afternoon's work. The loss is still fresh; we were talking about a remarkable young man who died just a few months ago. Our friend, Catherine Cooke helped us stay on track. Barbara is a strong and articulate woman, and I believe the interview is well-worth listening to.

As always, a story can be bumped if some other compelling news story breaks. This happened twice when I released Feather and Bone (the segment was then dropped altogether). So I am grateful to have been interviewed about Killian, and trying to be a little detached about the whole thing.

Whether or not the segment airs, you can find out more about Killian, his CD, Somewhere Else, and his dance with cancer at www.killianmansfield.org. This is the not-for-profit foundation he created to help raise funds for and spread awareness of the importance of integrative therapies in cancer care for children.

Check your local NPR station for air time in your area, or go to www.npr.org.

Typography

via vimeo.com

And, you know? It's like, so annoying? when you pay for something, and they like, give you the change? and they give you the bills first and then like, put the change on top of that, and it like, falls on the floor? because OMG, your hand isn't, you know, built like that?

So this is like, you know, like that?

GIve this clip a minute to load - Vimeo can be a little slow. Kudos to poet Taylor Mali at www.TaylorMali.com, and to my friend Renais, who sent me this clip.

Good people all

Though there is still light in the sky, darkness is settling over this part of the earth. The snow is taking on a blue cast, and I can hear the birds retreating to their roosts. I am getting ready to go out, and make my way down to the Church of the Intercession. I vowed decades ago that I would sing in any church that asked me, and so I will not be at the great Cathedral this night, but at a smaller church, singing with a choir, and soloing on my favorite Christmas song, the Wexford Carol (a gorgeous version here by Alison  Kraus and YoYo Ma).

I know that, all over this city, people are celebrating this night and tomorrow's day in whatever fashion they can - which for some, is not at all. That's understandable. Aside from the fact that there are different faiths, including the faith of no-faith, we Christians have not always proven by our actions that this day is worth celebrating. As I see it, there is no point in just talking about Christmas and the birth of a Savior. Talk is not all that convincing if our deeds in the world, or lack of them, contradict what we are saying. I am not pointing fingers here except at myself. I know what is in my heart, but it is a little too easy for me to be privately devoted, and to stop just short of "going public"  and into action. So that's what I am going to be working on this year.

We can't prove that Christ is born unless he is born in our hearts and hands. So bring the torch, Jeannette Isabelle. Let's light the world.

And God bless us, everyone.

Takes one to know one

On a recent train trip, I found a copy of USA Today that someone had left behind on the seat. I don't usually read that paper, but I got tired of the exhausting literary masterpiece I had brought along with me. So I fled to the Entertainment section and an article about the Kennedy Center Honors and the "star-studded gala".

My favorite remark was Aretha Franklin's introduction of opera great, Grace Bumbry. She said (if she was quoted correctly), "Several young artists today know nothing about being a diva. There was a time when you earned your diva-ness. You could do it by having a voice that started like a gift from God, then developed with the dedicated work of Man. You played all the great opera houses of the world, you broke new ground, you thrilled  millions of people. Grace Bumbry has done that."

I wish I had been there. It behooves us all to sit up straighter and take notice. And make sure to not be one of those "several".

Then I did the crossword puzzle, in ink, and felt a (regrettable) thrill of tawdry triumph.