Ode to Kicking Ass

Kim, Alex and I went to see Garth (the boy's trumpet teacher) perform the 9th (by ol' Ludwig van) with the NIU Philharmonic. I forgot how great Boutell sounds. That room may be the only thing at the University that is worth every fucking penny put into it.

We were late and missed the warm-up piece How Deserted Lies the City (about the Holocaust). It sounded moving outside the double doors.

When the doors opened for the Beethoven portion of the program, Alex led us to the first row. We sat smack dab in front of the double-basses. The Old Dog would've been proud.

The first notes, played with intention in a room meant for sound always move me beyond my ability to comment, which makes this sentence pointless and absurd and those are the least of its defects.

Kim read the names of those who contribute to NIU and community music programs and pointed out every person we knew in those pages. Thanks to you wonderful folks. You know who you are and please know how much better our little town and our world is because you gave money to help put something magnificent on one of our stages.

As the musicians played I read from Schiller's poem and was reminded:

Whoever has had the great fortune
To be a friend's friend,
Whoever has won a devoted wife,
Join in our jubilation!
Indeed, whoever can call even one soul
His own on this earth!
And whoever was not able, must creep
Tearfully away from this band!