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"Anxiety in a man's heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad." -Proverbs 12:25

"Anxiety in a man's heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad." -Proverbs 12:25
Midnight Blue (1963): Jazz guitarist Kenny Burrell featuring Stanley Turrentine on tenor saxophone, Major Holley on double bass, Bill English on drums and Ray Barretto on conga. Midnight Blue is one of Burrell’s best-known works for Blue Note Records. In 2005, NPR included the album in its "Basic Jazz Library", describing it as "one of the great jazzy blues records".

He said, She said...

"You are not designed for everyone to like you - Wise Man Phil


FRAGILE: Sting, Yo Yo Ma, Dominic Miller & Chris Botti


Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Dream Delayed...

Deferred: postponed or delayed.


So it goes like this... I get up at 5am, shower and begin my day going east to Granville, Ohio. I was heading to Denison University to D.J. on their radio station 91.1 WDUB... "The Doobie". I know it might sound silly to most of the middle aged people (and most college kids) reading this but it was something I was looking forward to doing. So with that being said, today is a big day because I get a chance to accomplish one of my goals of playing music on the radio. I wanted to do this for some time because of my love for music and for the fact that many people commented to me that I have great musical taste. It must be noted that most of the time these opinions were stated in a "bar" when most of the people were drunk but never the less praise is praise.

Remember, praise is like perfume, too much of it and it starts to stink. The stench is much like the breath of a drunken person(s) telling me from an inch and half away from my face how great my selections were on the overpriced jukebox. 


I'm sorry, I digress... I'm cranky.


Anyway, my musical taste aren't great, their just mine...all mine.

Anyhoo (what guys says 'anyhoo' - pathetic - and yes I want to add it to my dictionary) where was I... ah, yes my show... "My Show", "This & That", was scheduled for 7am. I arrived at 6:35am a little nervous about what was going to begin in about 20 minutes but I was confident that I would get through this and that this would be a great experience. As I was walking to the studio I passed two girls giggling and surprisingly chipper and optimistic for 6:45am on a college campus. Minutes after passing them they returned with key in hand and let themselves in the radio studio.

As I sat there perplexed I wondered if they would be the people that would be aiding me on my efforts this morning as I attempt to "throw down" on the air waves. Then I realized that the program director mentioned that he would be the one that would walk me through everything I need to know "while" I was on the air.

So to make a very long story short Marty the program director shows up at 6:56am and informs me that he's not sure why those two girls are in the studio.

"Wait a minute" He says and proceeds into the studio. 

Past experiences told me that this isn't going to be good and sure enough when he returned he uttered the two words that no one wants to here at the beginning of a conversation: "I'm sorry.
 

"Marty" in all of his "just got out of bed with no shower or a comb" glory apologized again for the inconvenience (btw... Marty is a great kid and the fact that he would take on a responsibility such as 'program director' while still in school speaks volumes about him.) and ask if I would like to stay and go on at 9:30am.

I said "Yes".

So as I sit in this very charming and very local coffee shop - I needed wifi and since I'm not a registered student or faculty member... even though the two girls I mentioned earlier ask me if I was a professor... I couldn't get online to write this 'wonderful' piece -  I begin to feel more like T.S. Eliot than Robin Williams in "Good Morning Vietnam" and while reflecting - and writing - I'm reminded of the great poem by Langston Hughes, "A Dream Deferred".

Robin Williams 


Langston put it down this way:

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--
And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

So at the end of the day I decided not to let anything 'dry up' or 'fester' or let my attitude 'stink' to high heaven. I decided to take the advice of many parents attending to their children on playgrounds all across the world... 

"Honey, be patient and wait your turn" is what most 'good' parents say... and that's just what I'm going to do, be patient and wait.


sbb 29.9.2010
748   
So Lonely  .  The Police
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