Friday, July 16, 2004

Ghosts at Studio B in Nashville

If there are ghosts here I didn’t see or hear them, unless you count the glare my camera caught as I snapped this shot of the control room while standing in the studio.

I didn’t want to leave Nashville without touring RCA Studio B. I’d already seen the impressive new Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum built in 2001 and the historic Ryman Auditorium, home of the Grand Old Opry from 1943 to 1974. They’re big places designed to accommodate hundreds of visitors.

Studio B is just a single story, cinderblock building with a reception area, one studio, one control room, one listening area. It’s not about the architecture, it’s who came here and what they produced. For a couple of decades Elvis Presley, Chet Atkins, Eddy Arnold, the Everly Brothers, Dolly Parton, Jim Reeves, Floyd Cramer, Willie Nelson produced hundreds of hit records here.

Friday, July 09, 2004

"Are you still writing your blog?"

asks a friend in the hallway today. "Yeah, but you know I've been taking a writing class, so I'm doing a lot of writing, but it's made pushing the 'publish' button on the blog a little harder to do."

"Wait a minute, I thought a writing class should make it easier to write, not harder," is the unspoken comment. "It is easier to write, just harder to publish."

Something similar to this happens when teachers start their students blogging. The students become aware of readers and they seek to clean up their writing. Kids who didn't care about spelling and grammar have new motivation to get it right. Now that I'm a student again, I do care more about what I'm saying.

So, yes, I'm still writing and blogging. And in just a moment, I'll push the "Publish Post" button once again, even though it's not quite as easy as it was a few weeks ago.

Sunday, July 04, 2004

Fireworks at Sugarhouse Park

I've watched July 4th fireworks at Salt Lake's Sugarhouse Park for more than three decades.

Watched with my sweetheart before we got married. Watched them there together as newlyweds and young parents. A son remembers falling asleep on the Highland High football field when we watched them together as a family. He'll be a senior this year.

In the last few years, I've watched them from my neighbor's driveway, but last night I got on my bike and rode down to the park. A couple of my nephews were there somewhere on the practice field, but I didn't spot them. I didn't feel alone though. I felt that I was an American among Americans.

Maybe I'll try the bicycle approach again next year. And maybe I'll watch Avalon before I go.

Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Lake Desolation

This is the fourth of fifth year I've tried Salt Lake's world-class Wasatch Crest mountainbike ride from Big Cottonwood Canyon to Millcreek Canyon. It took three of us older married men five hours to cover the 20 mile route, and as always, I found the view of Lake Desolation to well worth the climb.

Overheard in New Orleans

"We can’t stay with my dad. He’s so PO'd that I didn’t call him on Father’s Day."
-young woman on her cell at the airport

"They lost my luggage and I’ll be damned I’ve going to go spend at couple of hundred dollars just so I can go to a cocktail party tonight."
-middle-aged man on his cell at the Riverwalk mall

So what do we learn from this, you ask. I guess there are several things, actually. If you talk loudly on your cell phone while standing an airport drinking fountain maybe you're not going to be as good at using that cell to call this man you don't always get along with and say "Happy Father's Day, daddy. You know I'm not always great at staying in touch, but I do love you. Howya doin today?"

You probably won't hear the guy in shorts at the mall saying, "Yeah, they lost my luggage. I'm not happy about it, but you know it's a great excuse to do some shopping. I'm going to take it as a sign from the universe that it's time for a little upgrade in my business attire."

Related article: http://www.nytimes.com/2004/06/27/weekinreview/27bels.html
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Friday, June 04, 2004

Free Writing Ain't Free


"Writing isn’t hard. It isn't any harder than ditch digging." -Patrick Dennis

I'm taking a writing class on Wednesday nights. Our instructor, Teresa Jordan, is an acclaimed author and she's whipping us into shape without mercy. She's not just lecturing about writing, or giving us some examples to consider, she expects all of us write right there in class, and then almost immediately read aloud some portion of it.

She understands that this isn't always easy or comfortable. The only rule of free writing is that once you start, don't stop, just keep the pen moving on the page.

And when it's your turn to speak, "Don't apologize, just read the crap," she tells us, quoting one of her writing mentors.

This "free writing" isn't free from stress or pressure, but it does free the mind in the way that exercise frees the body. I might not enjoy every lap I swim, but my almost daily swimming has made the water so much more inviting. Writing's rarely been easy for me, but with this class I'm already less intimidated by the prospect of an empty page.

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