music

Failure to Plan!

~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

The Christmas Rush is over.  That’s not true in our “brick and mortar” store, but in our online store the onslaught has subsided and we’re starting to breathe a sigh of relief.  Oh, there have been mistakes made, packages misdirected, and defective products discovered.  It hasn’t all been fun or stress free, but we’ve survived another Christmas season in the accompaniment track business.  The requests for “O Holy Night” and “Mary Did You Know?” have given way to the more mundane, familiar titles, which run the spectrum of music genres, from Gospel to Contemporary Christian to Traditional.  I am starting to breathe easier, believing that we’ve done a respectable job of satisfying customers, but something is still keeping me on edge, there’s still a niggling fear running around in my brain.

Why should that be?  How is it that I’m still anxious?  The truth is that this is the week that the procrastinators come out of hiding.  There are still Christmas Eve programs at which to perform.  The day after Christmas, there will still be soloists who are expected to sing at Sunday worship services.  And, they’ve all realized that there are only two shipping days left to order their product.  That’s still plenty of time to make it someone else’s fault if they don’t have a track to sing with.  They can still call the toll-free phone number to somewhere far away and give this problem to some voice on the telephone.   I’ve cringed every time line number 2 has rung in the last couple of days, knowing that the chances are good I’m going to have to explain the high cost of overnight shipping, or explain why UPS doesn’t honor their transit-time guarantees the week before Christmas.  And, I’ll still have to figure out a way to get the product to them in time!

Do I sound bitter?  Am I looking for sympathy?  Actually, I was thinking I would just vent a bit, but as the lines are being written, I realize that I’m describing myself (as the procrastinator, not the unfortunate salesperson), which may explain why I dislike these people who put things off until the last minute.  They’re so much like me!  We live in a virtual world where we expect instant gratification, therefore, it is acceptable to wait until the week before the holiday to make your holiday purchases.  There should be no reason for disappointment.  Obviously, this doesn’t take into account the physical realities of the tangible world in which we live.  Greatly increased quantities of items which need processing result in slowdowns and greatly increased quantities of errors.   Fewer days in the process take away the possibility of redemption, of making right any errors and delays.  As a professional procrastinator, I understand this, having been under the gun with a project, only to make a critical mistake right before a deadline, insuring the failure of timely completion of the task.  Somehow, when I give the job to someone else, I forget that aspect, knowing only that it is now someone else’s problem.  And, I expect perfection from those I pay to cover my deficiency.

I love the sign that used to hang in the repair shop of our instrument technician.  It read, “Failure to plan ahead on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine!”  Even though I agree wholeheartedly with the sentiments of that sign, I feel a kindred spirit with my customers who call and beg for me to insure that they won’t be left high and dry.  I do everything humanly possible to make them happy, simply because I know that I will be depending on someone else in the next day or two to do the same for me.  I don’t believe in “Karma”, but I keep hoping that if I do my best to help, someone else will do their best to help me.  Most of the time, it doesn’t work that way.  Frazzled and worn out from bending over backwards for my customers, I make my requests of my potential benefactors, only to find that they have the same sign over their desk as the repair technician.

If you’re a procrastinator, you’ve read this with understanding, nodding your head in sympathy.  You know that this is our week.  These final days before Christmas are the ones we wait for all year long, the ones in which we either are deliriously happy that we got that last minute gift, or are casting about desperately for the appropriate words to explain the tardiness of the present that won’t arrive in time for the day.  If any of you find yourself in the situation, may I suggest that you face the facts, accept the responsibility, and enjoy the season anyway!  True, there’s a lesson to be learned, but there’ll be time for that later.  As you’ve read here before, the spirit of Christmas is love and redemption.  This week, there are people to enjoy and a Savior to contemplate.

Oh, and a last minute trip to Target or Walmart may just set the other things right anyway.  There’s always hope!  And, just a hint…probably, wrapping a brick with a picture of the item taped to it isn’t the best way out of your quandary.  At least, it wasn’t the last time I tried it…

“Christmas gift suggestions:
To your enemy, forgiveness.
To an opponent, tolerance.
To a friend, your heart.
To a customer, service.
To all, charity.
To every child, a good example.
To yourself, respect.”

(Oren Arnold, American writer 1900-1980)

I finally found my keys….

~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

We moved the piano in last week.  I would call it a “new” piano, but it was actually built in the nineteenth century, over one hundred and twenty years ago now.  It was a spur-of-the-moment purchase I made about nine years ago.  A small Steinway upright, it was bought for a song (pun intended), but the real investment began immediately.  A full day was spent traveling all the way up to just south of the Iowa state line and then back, with this unbelievably heavy piano-shaped-object  bringing up the rear in a trailer.  A small breakdown while flying through Kansas City, MO slowed us down and then we were home, tired and discouraged.  We could already see that a lot more investment was to come, both in cash and sweat; that much was guaranteed.

It wasn’t a pretty thing, although what little we could see of the burl walnut wood gave promise that it could be.  It didn’t sound nice at all, although its heritage reassured us that it had that potential also.  But when it arrived in our town, you would have had to be a starry-eyed dreamer to imagine that this mass of blackened wood and rusty metal could ever again be a musical instrument, worthy to be called a piano.

Within weeks, new strings and tuning pins were purchased, waiting for the day when it would be ready to be restrung.  The piano was completely disassembled, from the action all the way down to removal of all the case parts.  You really wouldn’t have looked at the heap of wood and known that there was a fine musical instrument lying there, and for several years, it wasn’t anything approaching that.  After the initial commotion of tearing down and stripping off old finish, our interest lagged, other projects called, and the Steinway languished in the old shop for a number of years. 

Then earlier this year, the piano called again.  I wasn’t up to answering the call (I thought it was really a wrong number), and was all for ditching the whole idea.  But my brother-in-law is a dreamer, and an old hand at seeing the potential in all sorts of hopeless, once-beautiful-but-no-more projects.  This visionary was anxious to make that pile of miscellaneous parts into a restored piece of art that could also make beautiful music again.  Little by little, the piano took shape.  Restringing, along with installing new tunings pins, was only the start.  Rebuilding the action, a real challenge because he was working with century-old technology, then led to the next procedure of staining and finishing.  Step by tedious step, the work progressed, until one day a few weeks ago, he called and said.  “I think we’ve got a piano.”

The piano is still a work-in-progress.  It needs a few more tunings before it will really stay in tune.  There might even be a few of the action repairs that will need to be tweaked a bit.  But this is a beautiful piece of century-old craftsmanship, now renewed and revitalized, and ready to play through the next century or two.  I’m not intending to be around to play it that long, but there might be a grandchild or two who takes a shine to piano playing before it’s all said and done.

What a joy!  To know that the sadly neglected and useless instrument is once again in it’s full glory, bringing forth beautiful music and inspiring the elation that comes unbidden from hearing the sweet melodies and beautiful chords, is nothing short of exhilarating.   If I wasn’t sure that I would severely try your patience, I would sermonize a bit about how much that resembles us in our sorry state and the result of the “touch of the master’s hand”, but I’m pretty sure you have already comprehended that parallel.

For tonight, I’ll just say that I’m grateful for craftsmen in this world who never quit dreaming, for a God in heaven who never quits extending His grace to sinners, and for music that allows us to have a little of heaven right here on earth.

“Pianos are such noble instruments – they’re either upright or grand.” 
(anonymous)

It’s All Geek to Me…

~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

Technology is an enigma to me.  Or, as Winston Churchill once said: “A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma…”  Of course, he was talking about Russia, not tiny particles of an element found in sand (among other things).  I’m talking about silicon, of course…the stuff that makes our computers and gadgets do that voodoo that they do.  Who knew?  The dirt from which we were formed would be the same material from which our most irritating and yet, beneficial tools would be developed.  I know, I’m stretching a bit to make that connection, but “dust to dust”, you know…

Walking into the business this morning, my sister showed me the “black screen of death” on our shipping room computer.  Thinking like an IT tech, my first words were, “Did you reboot?”  And, speaking like a user who’s been around this particular block before, she answered, “First thing I did.”  So, that popular IT ploy didn’t help any.  As it turns out, the monitor was DOA and a simple substitution took care of the immediate problem.  And if this were an isolated incident, I’d overlook it and you wouldn’t have a reason to be bored to death by my writing tonight.

But life is now an endless parade of these types of issues.  A glitch in a program here, a restart there, and before you know it, we’re all amateur IT techs.  I’m tired of “trying it again to see if that fixed it.”  I’d like to just use it and have it work.  And this is not just computers I’m talking about.

Two days ago, after a few hours of processing credit and debit cards for customers, our unit stopped communicating with the host.  The result? Cash only please!  Try that with a few university students and see where it gets you.  No cards equals no sales.  Again, frantic reboots, first the terminal, next the router, then the modem.  No result?  You call the service center to hear, “Sorry, the server is down all over the country.”  What? No one can sell their products?  No wonder we’re in a recession!

And don’t get me started on my new Swiss Army phone, so dubbed by my sweet wife.  Like its analog namesake, it does everything, including letting you make the occasional phone call, so the title fits.  Apple’s latest gift to its adoring masses, this particular jewel worked for two weeks, then told me that “SIM card failure”  had occurred.   By the way, a restart did fix this one, but my snobby Mac friends all tell me this is why I should want Apple’s products, since you “never have to reboot”.  Ah, well,  all technology is an enigma to me.

I did think it apropos to see, the other Sunday morning as I sat on the stage at church, that the unit into which all the microphones, instruments, and monitors are plugged is named “Mystery Electronics”.  No kidding!  That is the brand name of the product.  How great is that?  “We don’t understand it either, so you might as well get a good laugh out of it…”  I am a bit curious as to who the marketing genius is that came up with the name, but it’s refreshing to see a little honesty in the field.

The flip side of the conundrum is that the physical talents necessary for music have also changed over time.  I remember when the small-sized instrument tuners were introduced into the music business.  My father-in-law, then my boss,  thought it ludicrous.  “Why would you trust your eyes to tune something you’re listening to?”,  he asked prospective customers (great selling technique, eh?).  Despite his best efforts, the digital tuner is standard equipment in any guitarist’s array of tools today.  But, remembering the wide-eyed amazement with which the first tuners were greeted way back then, I still have to laugh as I constantly see that same look on the faces of young people while they watch me tune newly-strung guitars using only a tuning fork and my ears.  Once the machine was the marvel.  Now the human being who can work without it is.

I talked with a couple of old guitar players today (old, meaning they have played for a number of years) about different famous guitarists.  I’ve run the gamut of likes and dislikes in my lifetime, but for now, my favorites are those who work “without a net”, so to speak.  They are the acoustic guitarists who, for whatever reason, eschew gimmickry and machines.  There they sit, just the guitar and the musician, working their magic with their raw talent, amazing the listener at the beautiful music that can be made by a human being who has perfected the craft.

I work with the technology I need to keep my business going.  I even enjoy the challenge of new gadgets from time to time.  But I will always love best the time spent with people, not through email or texting, but just by standing eye to eye and communicating, as well as the joy that comes through great music.  More gadgets beget even more gadgets, and the list grows ever longer, but our emotional core demands communication and reflection.  Deep speaks to deep, or if you will, “birds of a feather…”  We really don’t fit well with machines over the long haul.

Take some time to communicate face to face with people today.  If you can’t do that, at least pull up “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by  Tommy Emmanuel on YouTube and spend four and a half minutes enjoying one of the simple gifts of life.

“Music has charms to soothe the savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak…”
(William Congreve  in 1697)

Dancing to the Oldies

~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

Sometimes we let the pizza get cold, but there is never a dull moment.  The four little ones come, more for the time spent playing outside and the suckers from the music store next door than for the pizza, but Tuesday evening without them is not nearly as much fun.  Uncle “Steben” is usually here, much to the delight of the young ones (and his dad too, truth be known), but he doesn’t know how to provide entertainment like these guys.  The after-dinner matinee is spectacular!

I’ll never figure it out.  They are surrounded by technological marvels, CD player, DVD player, computer, and digital television, but they want me to open up the 90 year-old Victrola, lay a thick old 78 RPM record on the turntable, and let them “dance”.  We’re not talking about good music either.  These are old hillbilly harmonies, sung in the most nasally voice imaginable, nothing nearly as sophisticated as “Little Einsteins” or “Yo Gabba Gabba”, but these kids love it.  Almost every time they come, we have to go through the rigamarole again…Select a record (Who cares what record, just a different one than last time), everyone gets a turn at winding the crank, open the doors to the voice cone (how else can you control the volume?), the selected kid gets to move the lever to release the turntable (a cherished job they vie mightily for), and the steel needle is set down on the record.  After that, pandemonium ensues!  They jump and fall, wriggle and writhe, run around in circles, and just generally make a noisy commotion.  This is called “dancing”, not to be confused with wrestling or tag, although the process for these seems to be the same, minus the Victrola.  If we’re lucky enough to get an operatic tune, perhaps Grandpa will add to the commotion with his Bugs Bunny imitation from “What’s Opera, Doc?”, probably a scene we don’t want to dwell on for long…

The music is bad, the dancing is not a thing of beauty, but you’d be rolling on the floor laughing if you could see it.  These are times when I could chuck technology and live a much simpler life.  But events move on, the children go home, and (after a short rest) the wife and I head back to work, with all it’s chiming emails, whirring disc drives, and really frustrating issues.  “Oh no!  I saved my changes the last time I used this form and now I’ve lost my entire master list,” comes the lament from the beautiful lady.  I have problems of my own.  I know my website designer told me how to do this, but it’s beyond me.  Download those files to this new one on the desktop, upload those newly downloaded files using the FTC or FTP (or something like that) to the S3 (3S?) site.  No, you download them with the FDIC to My Documents…no FDIC is what the bank uses.  Oh, just push that key and upload it.  What do you mean two hours and 53 minutes until the upload is finished?  How am I supposed to get my work done now?

How did we ever work before we had all this labor-saving technological equipment?    It used to be pencil and paper, adding machines, mechanical cash registers with the pull handles on the side…all relics of a distant past.  But they, at their inception, also promised the same thing all innovations promise;  the inveiglement of higher productivity and lower labor output.  Once the trap is sprung, the reality is revealed.  More productivity leads to more labor every time, regardless of the original promise of more leisure.  We don’t care, we love our machines, and again and again, buy the latest, the greatest, only to want more.

So, I sit at my computer, having once more worked into the early hours of the morning, and think, not primarily of the job at hand, but I reminisce of earlier in the evening (now yesterday).  For a few moments that I’ll hold dear forever, we were free of the encumbrances, not tied to any device, but just enjoying the abandon of childhood, and wishing (just a little bit) that we grownups were that carefree once more.

Second childhood is coming…maybe I’ll get that chance soon!

Progress might have been all right once, but it has gone on too long. ~Ogden Nash