A New Year; Hoorah!

I ended 2010 with my wife's family, as I have done pretty much every year since I've been married, opening Christmas presents listening to the sounds of insanely delighted children. Not a bad way to say adios to an old year.

I seem to have a lot of friends who are glad to see 2010 in their rear-view mirror, but it wasn't a bad year for me, health challenges aside. other than a chronic inability to breathe--while I admit is a pain in the arse, 2010 was professionally and personally fairly satisfying.

I recall last year at this time I resolved, in my way (as I don't really make resolutions) to finally begin studying music seriously. I started looking online for piano keyboards and settled on a $125 Yamaha electronic keyboard, which in my zeal to begin practicing, I paid extra for two-day delivery. This began my adventures with UPS, who, although they deliver to my apartment two-five times a WEEK, couldn't seem to get a keyboard to me to save their lives. I called the central UPS office and was told it was about to be sent back to the merchant due to "Insufficient Address," nor was there an accurate telephone number to reach me. Odd.

I told them to hold it for pick-up. I had to drive through a blizzard to their warehouse after hours to pick it up, and by God there it was--with my full address, and telephone number, printed in big block letters right on the front. The driver, engrossed in charming the horse-toothed, gum-chomping floozy staffing the after-hours warehouse inventory, shrugged and commented, "Don't see how I missed that." My theory: If my keyboard had silicone boobs, he wouldn't have missed it.

A few months later of course, when I upgraded to my current Casio Privia, UPS lost my piano completely. I mean it totally vanished; sucked into a black hole. Internet tracking followed it from the vendor in Indiana, where I live, by the way, to Missouri for some Ungodly reason, to Miami, an insane detour for a city-to-city overnight shipment, where it got stuck. Again, I made woeful inquiries. It ees lost, Senor, I was told. Mucho sorry. Again, "insufficient address" was conjured from the aether as the culprit. So I called the vendor, who related me the following atrocity: The piano actually made it to my hometown. It was within two blocks of my grasp. Then UPS decided to send it back as undeliverable.

Now understand, UPS drives to my front door at least two to five times per week. Most of the drivers and I am on a first name basis; we show each other pictures of our families. The person with whom I spoke had the package in front of them even as we discussed this debacle, so I asked the helpful wight to read me the address. You guessed it: My address was clearly printed in exact detail, followed by my telephone number. A Mormon on a bicycle could have pedaled it by my door during his daily Missionary rounds. Apparently UPS has a vendetta against burgeoning musicians.

So the vendor offered to ship my piano again. And I descended upon the UPS with what amounted to a Wanted Poster. This piece of paper had my picture, my address, name and telephone number emblazoned in 40-point typeface. I swept into that office like one of Chiron's Harpies. I related to everyone within earshot--and my voice carries--the history of my past problems with that particular branch concerning the meanderings of my various keyboards. I further informed them I was expecting a package on such a date, that this package contained a PIANO; that this rather large and conspicuous package would be coming from such a vendor, and I was to be notified at THIS telephone number when it arrived. It was at this point in my soliloquy I unfurled my Poster. Here was my picture so they wouldn't forget who they were dealing with, along with my address, phone number, e-mail, Facebook, GPS coordinates, medical records, and Congressman's contact info just in case.

They all looked at me and nodded, but the habitually-vacant expression of the long-term Bloomington Native never left their collective faces, so I knew it was time to take it up a notch. I wanted them to remember me, not brush me from their Bloomington-memory as soon as I blew out the door, so after reiterating my past grievances, I asked the people at the desk what exactly was wrong with them that they couldn't read something as simple as a mailing label in plain English not once but FOUR times (yes, there were other incidents, but we won't go into the other two here), and how the hell do you lose a PIANO, and if I didn't get it this time I was told by the central office this particular branch would be scrutinized, probed, investigated, audited, brutalized, anally violated and slash-and-burned by a tiger-team of investigators from the Chicago office. This seemed to get their attention, because Chicago is where John Dillinger, Al Capone and Jerry Springer were from, and you didn't mess with those guys. My point made, I taped my picture to the wall and left.

I wasn't notified by telephone, but a knock at my door announced a delivery, and right the hell on schedule. A sweating UPS guy dumped a 125 pound package consisting of a Casio Privia, wooden stand, and sundry accessories on my doorstep. "Here's yer Piano," he grunted, turned and walked away, every nuance of body language telling me to kiss this ass. I finally got my piano--but service with a smile? Fuggeddabouddit.

Sometime this year I might make the next incremental upgrade, assuming my business continues to improve--and I see no reason why it won't--to a Yamaha Clavinova, an even bigger keyboard. And I pity the poor UPS guy who wrestles that big Son of a Bitch off the truck.

Have I made progress this year? I suppose I have but I sometimes become impatient with myself. I know a year isn't very long in the scheme of things but I hoped I had a hidden genius in me which would have surfaced by now and I would be playing a lot better than I am as I near the one-year mark. At least good enough to get Triple-Xed on America's Got Talent. On the other hand, I am playing stuff, can read music, and have the Major Scales down fairly well. I've also tackled some reasonably tough pieces of music and understood the composer's intention. l look forward to the next year and the incremental advancements I'll make as I digest further bits and pieces of knowledge and increase my skills.

I don't know if 2010 was a good year or a bad year as far as "things" in general went. I was far too busy focused on my business and my personal life. I really don't pay much attention to the news hysteria or the people who say the world is dive-bombing to an end. I've heard this since the Comet Kahoutek back in 1973, when Prophets lined up to pronounce the End of the World, and my 13 year old self thought "End of the world eh? Cool." I lived in the shadow of Oak Ridge Tennessee anyway , so the end of all things was something we just sort of became numb about over the course of time.

But was 2010 a good or bad year, and will 2011 be better? I can't say, as I have no sense of perspective on the matter. For me it was a year marked by a sense of personal optimism with an underlayer of denial about my respiratory problems--I just kept thinking the asthma was temporary and would eventually go away; a total indifference to the political "climate"the entire network of which--along with the cast and crew of followers, punters, players and debaters, seemed to me to be the total essence of the Pons asinorum; focus on my work and audiences and trying to bring a message of hope and encouragement to people who had had enough of fear and paranoia; trying to spend time with my family and be with them; of finally studying something I've dearly loved since I was a child but never had time to give to myself; so if there was an inherent "good" or "bad" value to 2010 I was oblivious to it. I was too busy living my life and letting 2010 roll on without me interfering with it. If I had tried to mess with things, it seems to me with the wisdom of hindsight, I probably would have only made things worse.

As for 2011, if we all resolve to try to do what we can to make a better year in even a small way, to move forward, to live free of fear, to keep others in our thoughts and help when we can, to roll with the changes of fortune and make these changes work to our advantage--2011 WILL be a great year, not because we hope it will be, but because we'll make it so.