I.) My brother-in-law wanted to be sure to give me something meaningful, something useful as well as thoughtful, and so his gift to me was....a free-standing toilet paper holder.
He even included a free roll of paper, with the end folded over into the little triangle and sealed with a sticker like they do in hotels.
Honest.
II.) As I was preparing to leave, my father turned to the Christmas tree and pulled off a handful of candy canes, handing them to my brother, my brother-in-law, and I. When we collectively did the RCA dog (head tilted to the side with a quizzical expression), he explained thus:
"Your grandmother-my mother-would always have candy canes on her Christmas trees, and no guest was allowed to leave without taking one with them, as a little token of their holiday visit."
I was incredibly touched--dad had never told us this story before, not being one to talk about his past, and it was a very sweet and sentimental bit of family history....
....until it occurred to me that grandma Helene was Jewish.
RM
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Please move on...nothing to see here....
I should blog.
I should be posting real stuff here. You know, meaningful stuff. Heartfelt, touching, moving, insightful....stuff.
I want to be a writer...right? This would be the logical place to practice that....right?
I am woefully bad at keeping up with regular updates (in case you hadn't noticed). I had every intention of being a regular fucking fount of information about what it's like to be a professional chorister...you know, the seamy underbelly of classical music....sort of the "mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be singers" cautionary tales to scare the bejeezus out of all you little 'Glee'-besotted types who think it would just be the shiznit to sing in choruses all day for a living.
And yet, perhaps it is NOT the best idea to do so after three (large. really large. HUGE.) glasses of old vine zinfandel.
And so I shan't.
Good night.
RM
I should be posting real stuff here. You know, meaningful stuff. Heartfelt, touching, moving, insightful....stuff.
I want to be a writer...right? This would be the logical place to practice that....right?
I am woefully bad at keeping up with regular updates (in case you hadn't noticed). I had every intention of being a regular fucking fount of information about what it's like to be a professional chorister...you know, the seamy underbelly of classical music....sort of the "mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be singers" cautionary tales to scare the bejeezus out of all you little 'Glee'-besotted types who think it would just be the shiznit to sing in choruses all day for a living.
And yet, perhaps it is NOT the best idea to do so after three (large. really large. HUGE.) glasses of old vine zinfandel.
And so I shan't.
Good night.
RM
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
A Public Service Announcement
While using a Neti pot, it is generally not a good idea to sneeze, if one can help it.
You're welcome.
RM
You're welcome.
RM
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Maybe it's not too late to go into accounting....
....that's been a running joke with me for years; anytime I was commiserating with a colleague about the lack of work, or respect, or job security, I'd shrug and say..."maybe it's not too late to go into accounting..."
But you know what? It's not all that funny anymore. Nearly a month ago I went through a scary near work-stoppage in the Symphony Chorus where, during contract negotiations, it came out that for every dollar SF Symphony offered its orchestra members in their new contract, management was willing to offer the professional members of the chorus....wait for it, wait for it...SEVEN CENTS.
Really? REALLY? The lowest-paid substitute walk-on first-year orchestra member gets a six-figure salary. (Please do not construe this rant, by the way, to imply that I don't believe that they earn every cent of that salary.) The financial improvements that WE were asking for, for the entire professional chorus, all thirty of us, would have cost them in the neighborhood of twenty-five thousand a year--a quarter of the annual salary of ONE orchestra member. That's all. In a multi-million dollar budget. And yet, it came down to a few hours of opening night before management agreed to even give us PART of what we were asking for.
Let me state here that this is an IMPROVEMENT over past negotiations, where Symphony management refused to negotiate and simply said "no" to all our proposals. Were it not for the fact that we are a union shop we likely wouldn't be paid at all, and I'm sure the bean-counters at SFS would be happier that way. Because we LOVE what we do so fucking much, we're willing to give it away....right? Never mind that we went to college just like our orchestral colleagues....paid for lessons just like our orchestral colleagues...rehearsed for hours on end just like our orchestral colleagues....and work every bit as hard as our orchestral colleagues. We are the ugly red-headed stepchildren, make no mistake. Last week, the fundraising arm of the symphony sent out an email praising the contributions of each arm of the symphony, especially mentioning the three Grammy awards the symphony won last year....and conspicuously left out the chorus. Despite the fact that the chorus was a major part of the recording that WON them the Grammys.
I hope you'll forgive a wee (OK, more than WEE) bit of bitterness about the financial remuneration of choristers; I just came home from a meeting with a mortgage broker. I was hoping to refinance my existing mortgage to take advantage of the lower interest rates and to help make my monthly expenses a little more manageable. She was kind, helpful, wonderful--but told me outright that she couldn't get me a re-fi. Why? Because my income from the symphony is less than $15,000. Most of my non-symphony income is from pick-up gigs, for which I am issued 1099s at the end of the year for tax purposes. Because I am NOT making a six-figure salary, I write off many of my business expenses (voice lessons, mileage to/from gigs, sheet music, coachings). Well, in my discussion with the mortgage broker, it turns out this actually bites me in the butt, because bankers don't LIKE people with multiple income sources, and consider only the NET income from 1099 (after business deductions), not gross...which means my pitiful income becomes even MORE pitiful in the eyes of the banks.
The mortgage broker, trying to be helpful, said the line I hate the most; "Well....at least you get to do what you LOVE for a living...."
I mostly credit my upbringing, meditation, and, mainly, the fact that she refused to charge me for her time, for not treating her like the gorilla in the Samsonite commercial did the luggage.
As it was, I waved a wry hand in the direction of the pay stubs, tax returns, stock statements, and other now-useless information, arched an eyebrow and said....."LIVING?"
It got awfully quiet in the conference room for a moment.
Fortunately, right next door to the mortgage company's offices, there was a wine store (I do wonder, considering the current difficulty MOST people have in getting mortgages, if this wasn't a bit of brilliant business planning). I spent the seventeen dollars I was going to put down for a credit report on a nice bottle of cabernet. Fifteen and a quarter of that seventeen dollars is already gone. Money well spent, I reckon.
RM
But you know what? It's not all that funny anymore. Nearly a month ago I went through a scary near work-stoppage in the Symphony Chorus where, during contract negotiations, it came out that for every dollar SF Symphony offered its orchestra members in their new contract, management was willing to offer the professional members of the chorus....wait for it, wait for it...SEVEN CENTS.
Really? REALLY? The lowest-paid substitute walk-on first-year orchestra member gets a six-figure salary. (Please do not construe this rant, by the way, to imply that I don't believe that they earn every cent of that salary.) The financial improvements that WE were asking for, for the entire professional chorus, all thirty of us, would have cost them in the neighborhood of twenty-five thousand a year--a quarter of the annual salary of ONE orchestra member. That's all. In a multi-million dollar budget. And yet, it came down to a few hours of opening night before management agreed to even give us PART of what we were asking for.
Let me state here that this is an IMPROVEMENT over past negotiations, where Symphony management refused to negotiate and simply said "no" to all our proposals. Were it not for the fact that we are a union shop we likely wouldn't be paid at all, and I'm sure the bean-counters at SFS would be happier that way. Because we LOVE what we do so fucking much, we're willing to give it away....right? Never mind that we went to college just like our orchestral colleagues....paid for lessons just like our orchestral colleagues...rehearsed for hours on end just like our orchestral colleagues....and work every bit as hard as our orchestral colleagues. We are the ugly red-headed stepchildren, make no mistake. Last week, the fundraising arm of the symphony sent out an email praising the contributions of each arm of the symphony, especially mentioning the three Grammy awards the symphony won last year....and conspicuously left out the chorus. Despite the fact that the chorus was a major part of the recording that WON them the Grammys.
I hope you'll forgive a wee (OK, more than WEE) bit of bitterness about the financial remuneration of choristers; I just came home from a meeting with a mortgage broker. I was hoping to refinance my existing mortgage to take advantage of the lower interest rates and to help make my monthly expenses a little more manageable. She was kind, helpful, wonderful--but told me outright that she couldn't get me a re-fi. Why? Because my income from the symphony is less than $15,000. Most of my non-symphony income is from pick-up gigs, for which I am issued 1099s at the end of the year for tax purposes. Because I am NOT making a six-figure salary, I write off many of my business expenses (voice lessons, mileage to/from gigs, sheet music, coachings). Well, in my discussion with the mortgage broker, it turns out this actually bites me in the butt, because bankers don't LIKE people with multiple income sources, and consider only the NET income from 1099 (after business deductions), not gross...which means my pitiful income becomes even MORE pitiful in the eyes of the banks.
The mortgage broker, trying to be helpful, said the line I hate the most; "Well....at least you get to do what you LOVE for a living...."
I mostly credit my upbringing, meditation, and, mainly, the fact that she refused to charge me for her time, for not treating her like the gorilla in the Samsonite commercial did the luggage.
As it was, I waved a wry hand in the direction of the pay stubs, tax returns, stock statements, and other now-useless information, arched an eyebrow and said....."LIVING?"
It got awfully quiet in the conference room for a moment.
Fortunately, right next door to the mortgage company's offices, there was a wine store (I do wonder, considering the current difficulty MOST people have in getting mortgages, if this wasn't a bit of brilliant business planning). I spent the seventeen dollars I was going to put down for a credit report on a nice bottle of cabernet. Fifteen and a quarter of that seventeen dollars is already gone. Money well spent, I reckon.
RM
Thursday, September 9, 2010
The Universe Has A Sense Of Humor, part 368
It's been a long week--all God, all the time: on Tuesday afternoon, singing at the ordination of a new bishop up at St. Mary's (AKA St. Mary Maytag our Holy Agitator) up on Holy Hill; Tuesday evening singing Copland's "In The Beginning" for the Symphony's opening Gala, Wednesday evening Erev Rosh Hashanah and Thursday morning Rosh Hashanah services, Thursday evening church rehearsal at St. Dominic's. I could really go for something a little different (too bad the Buddhists never got around to writing hymns......).
So, I'm singing the Jewish High Holy Days again this year at Sherith Israel. Unfortunately, they're at a point in the renovation of the temple where they cannot accommodate the congregation in the building itself right now, so we're doing all the services at Calvary Presbyterian, a few blocks away on Fillmore Street.
As it happens, I realized as I sat there for his morning's services....
1. My mother's side of the family was Presbyterian.
2. My father's side of the family was Jewish (as a matter of fact, my great-grandparents worshiped at the very same temple that I, three generations later, am now singing in).
3. None of that mattered in my upbringing, as both sides had lapsed long before my parents ever met, and so when they married, they decided to celebrate the Christian holidays--Christmas and Easter--but in a purely secular manner, or, as I like to describe it, "all of the chocolate, none of the guilt!"
And yet, there I was.....sitting in a Presbyterian church....celebrating a Jewish holiday.
Go figure.
RM
So, I'm singing the Jewish High Holy Days again this year at Sherith Israel. Unfortunately, they're at a point in the renovation of the temple where they cannot accommodate the congregation in the building itself right now, so we're doing all the services at Calvary Presbyterian, a few blocks away on Fillmore Street.
As it happens, I realized as I sat there for his morning's services....
1. My mother's side of the family was Presbyterian.
2. My father's side of the family was Jewish (as a matter of fact, my great-grandparents worshiped at the very same temple that I, three generations later, am now singing in).
3. None of that mattered in my upbringing, as both sides had lapsed long before my parents ever met, and so when they married, they decided to celebrate the Christian holidays--Christmas and Easter--but in a purely secular manner, or, as I like to describe it, "all of the chocolate, none of the guilt!"
And yet, there I was.....sitting in a Presbyterian church....celebrating a Jewish holiday.
Go figure.
RM
YOU KIDS GET OFFA MY LAWN!
Sometimes I feel like I was born in the wrong time....and the wrong place....on a very strange planet...
....or maybe these cranky pants are a little too tight right now....
I was in a conversation with a younger colleague earlier this week who happened to compliment me on my skin and its youthful appearance. I shot back the stock response, "Yeah, but there's a portrait in the attic that looks like shit right about now...." and waited for the laugh.
There was a loooooonng, uncomfortable pause while she cocked her head like the RCA dog and looked at me quizzically.
"...you know, 'The Portrait of Dorian Gray'....?" I prompted.
"Oh. Who's she?"
Sweet Jeebus.
If anyone wants me, I'll be in my study, mourning the American intellect.
RM
....or maybe these cranky pants are a little too tight right now....
I was in a conversation with a younger colleague earlier this week who happened to compliment me on my skin and its youthful appearance. I shot back the stock response, "Yeah, but there's a portrait in the attic that looks like shit right about now...." and waited for the laugh.
There was a loooooonng, uncomfortable pause while she cocked her head like the RCA dog and looked at me quizzically.
"...you know, 'The Portrait of Dorian Gray'....?" I prompted.
"Oh. Who's she?"
Sweet Jeebus.
If anyone wants me, I'll be in my study, mourning the American intellect.
RM
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Curriculum Vitae Du Jour
So, as I mentioned a VERY long time ago (March 2008, to be exact), I'd been feeling rather discontented with the whole opera chorus job and felt that perhaps, money and benefits notwithstanding, it was not a good fit for me. I had also begun to work with other groups and found that they were much more satisfying experiences. I just wanted to give a quick update on my professional status over the past couple of seasons, since I've been concentrating on my personal life so much here....
The year after I was bumped from tenure track and hired only as 'leave replacement', I was bumped yet again, back to extra chorus. It turned out that the tenure-track position had been eliminated entirely, and had been given to a bass-baritone instead.
Then, this year, the final insult....after twelve years, the chorus director saw fit not to hire me at all. In addition, I can't seem to get arrested by any of the local opera companies--and the irony is, I'm singing better than I ever have! Ah, the vagaries of the performer's life....I have to smile when I hear civilians speak of how awful it is to have no job security in this recession--welcome to my world!
Oddly enough, though, I've not been out of work all this time...although I haven't been doing much opera, choral and early music work has filled the opening left by SFO, and has been berry berry good to me. Instead of opera chorus, I've been blessed to be hired with AVE, American Bach Soloists, San Francisco Symphony Chorus, and Philharmonia Baroque (my latest conquest) as a core member, as well as for solo work with Soli Deo Gloria, Marin Oratorio Society, and possibly (I'm waiting to hear back) San Francisco Choral Society, not to mention a church job at St. Dominic's* . Let's see....better pay...more personal satisfaction....a few rehearsals as opposed to weeks of them...no makeup, staging, or costumes to deal with....and much much more stable personalities to boot....I ask you, what's not to like? I think my dissatisfaction may have been specifically with opera, not with singing in general. If I can find more solo work that pays well, and continue to have the luck to be able to sing with the groups I mentioned before, I could be pretty happy with my place in the singing world.
*Yea, even though said church job forces me to be in the same room on a regular basis with the ex-boyfriend....remember him? The universe DOES have a rather sick sense of humor, does it not?
The year after I was bumped from tenure track and hired only as 'leave replacement', I was bumped yet again, back to extra chorus. It turned out that the tenure-track position had been eliminated entirely, and had been given to a bass-baritone instead.
Then, this year, the final insult....after twelve years, the chorus director saw fit not to hire me at all. In addition, I can't seem to get arrested by any of the local opera companies--and the irony is, I'm singing better than I ever have! Ah, the vagaries of the performer's life....I have to smile when I hear civilians speak of how awful it is to have no job security in this recession--welcome to my world!
Oddly enough, though, I've not been out of work all this time...although I haven't been doing much opera, choral and early music work has filled the opening left by SFO, and has been berry berry good to me. Instead of opera chorus, I've been blessed to be hired with AVE, American Bach Soloists, San Francisco Symphony Chorus, and Philharmonia Baroque (my latest conquest) as a core member, as well as for solo work with Soli Deo Gloria, Marin Oratorio Society, and possibly (I'm waiting to hear back) San Francisco Choral Society, not to mention a church job at St. Dominic's* . Let's see....better pay...more personal satisfaction....a few rehearsals as opposed to weeks of them...no makeup, staging, or costumes to deal with....and much much more stable personalities to boot....I ask you, what's not to like? I think my dissatisfaction may have been specifically with opera, not with singing in general. If I can find more solo work that pays well, and continue to have the luck to be able to sing with the groups I mentioned before, I could be pretty happy with my place in the singing world.
*Yea, even though said church job forces me to be in the same room on a regular basis with the ex-boyfriend....remember him? The universe DOES have a rather sick sense of humor, does it not?
It made me smile.
My neighbors across the street have been spending time with all three of their grown children--two sons and a daughter--who are back home for a visit. The daughter, who is about my age, has a daughter of her own--a winsome five-year-old named Katja with long brown hair and squirrel-bright eyes. When I ran into them a week or so ago while walking my Boxer, Honey, Katja was a little intimidated at first (and I can well understand: it would be rather easy to be intimidated by a dog who can just about look you in the eye!) but soon became quite enchanted by Honey, stroking her soft flanks with both hands while I chatted with her mother and grandmother. In fact, the longer Honey let Katja pet her, the more relaxed and animated she became, informing me with a big smile that she had often seen Honey looking out the window at her from across the street.
"Yes, she does that a lot," I replied. "She likes to have something to look at."
When the conversation ended, we said goodbye, and I forgot all about it--until a couple of mornings ago, when I looked out my window and saw, in the window across the street, a little stuffed animal--looking right back at Honey!
I nearly fell over laughing.
I just wanted to share that with you--it really has nothing to do with singing, but I thought it was a sweet little story. :-)
RM
"Yes, she does that a lot," I replied. "She likes to have something to look at."
When the conversation ended, we said goodbye, and I forgot all about it--until a couple of mornings ago, when I looked out my window and saw, in the window across the street, a little stuffed animal--looking right back at Honey!
I nearly fell over laughing.
I just wanted to share that with you--it really has nothing to do with singing, but I thought it was a sweet little story. :-)
RM
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Errant thought on a lovely Summers' day after spending a day weeding...
There's nothing like having a garden to teach you two things: one, how lovely and delightful it is to create and control some small corner of your world.....and two-just how little control you REALLY have over it.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Grumpy thoughts on Pride
This weekend happens to be Pride weekend here in the city of fog and shadows, and, along with the usual glitter and beer-soaked festivities, there will be the annual Pride parade.
You know what I think?
I think that we shouldn't be having a pride parade.
You know why?
LGBT people shouldn't have to march in the streets to assert their right to BE.
LGBT people shouldn't have to fly a big colorful flag in our faces, ride motorcycles across Market street, or sashay their way in high heels and not much else until they've earned sunburns on body parts not normally exposed to the light of day, to assert their right to love-and marry -whomever they want.
Everyone should be able to feel pride in who they are every single fucking day of the year...and we are not truly a democratic free country as long as that is not the case.
That's all I'm sayin'.
RM
Oh--and you kids, get off'n my f***ing lawn!!
You know what I think?
I think that we shouldn't be having a pride parade.
You know why?
LGBT people shouldn't have to march in the streets to assert their right to BE.
LGBT people shouldn't have to fly a big colorful flag in our faces, ride motorcycles across Market street, or sashay their way in high heels and not much else until they've earned sunburns on body parts not normally exposed to the light of day, to assert their right to love-and marry -whomever they want.
Everyone should be able to feel pride in who they are every single fucking day of the year...and we are not truly a democratic free country as long as that is not the case.
That's all I'm sayin'.
RM
Oh--and you kids, get off'n my f***ing lawn!!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
The Answers To Life, the Universe, and Everything...
I am skidding sideways into yet another birthday, but oh my what a difference from the one I shared with you two years ago! No big party...no worries about whom to invite....no rental plates...no soul-sucking trips to Costco....no exes...no drama whatsoever....ahh. Just a few small celebrations mostly revolving around good food and good friends, nothing too overwhelming. It's nice. I don't feel any pressure to do anything I don't want to--in fact, the older I get, the further I seem to be drifting away from the shore of that overpopulated little island known as "Givesafuckwhatanyonethinksofme"....which, if you knew me and how much of my life so far has been spent bending myself into little pretzel shapes to fit others' expectations...is pretty damn huge, which is why I'm here giving myself an early birthday present--a wee pat on the back.
Medical science claims that, every seven years, every single cell in our bodies--skin, hair, brain, organs, the whole megillah--dies and is replaced. So, essentially, you and I are not the persons we were seven years ago. I'm a big believer in the 'seven-year-cycle' concept-- I truly believe it's possible to completely reinvent-regenerate-rebuild-oneself in a new way.
Let's see....In 2003, I was about to separate from a husband with whom I was not in love (and really shouldn't have married in the first place), about to have my heart broken--truly broken--for the first time (and, may I add, have had it truly broken not once but TWICE since then), had never lived alone, hadn't even been diagnosed for depression yet, had no clue as to who I really was or what I wanted to do, was a very fearful person, sick at heart and in spirit, who had internalized the idea that I was 'not-enough'--not attractive, lovable, intelligent, capable, calm, etc., etc., ad nauseam, enough. I would like to be able to say that I am no longer any of those things, that I am sexy, beautiful, brilliant, capable, centered, ALL of the time.
I'm not there yet.
But I can say those things (at least one of them at a time) MOST of the time. I think that's an improvement.
And I can't WAIT to see what the next seven years' transformation will look like.
RM
Medical science claims that, every seven years, every single cell in our bodies--skin, hair, brain, organs, the whole megillah--dies and is replaced. So, essentially, you and I are not the persons we were seven years ago. I'm a big believer in the 'seven-year-cycle' concept-- I truly believe it's possible to completely reinvent-regenerate-rebuild-oneself in a new way.
Let's see....In 2003, I was about to separate from a husband with whom I was not in love (and really shouldn't have married in the first place), about to have my heart broken--truly broken--for the first time (and, may I add, have had it truly broken not once but TWICE since then), had never lived alone, hadn't even been diagnosed for depression yet, had no clue as to who I really was or what I wanted to do, was a very fearful person, sick at heart and in spirit, who had internalized the idea that I was 'not-enough'--not attractive, lovable, intelligent, capable, calm, etc., etc., ad nauseam, enough. I would like to be able to say that I am no longer any of those things, that I am sexy, beautiful, brilliant, capable, centered, ALL of the time.
I'm not there yet.
But I can say those things (at least one of them at a time) MOST of the time. I think that's an improvement.
And I can't WAIT to see what the next seven years' transformation will look like.
RM
Sunday, May 9, 2010
An Open Letter
Dear Pretentious Overrated Local Opera Company*: if you can't be bothered to email me to notify me when your auditions are, you do not have the right to email me when you need donations or to sell tickets (since, without the income said auditions might have provided, I cannot afford to buy tickets or support your pretentious company). Thank you. Love, RM
*whose senile founder has been sucking the dried-up teat of his reputation for the past twenty years, has been taking advantage of the good will of local musicians while treating--and paying--them like crap, and who cannot even be bothered to list the cast or instrumentalists--you know, the people who are actually doing the show--on the website
*whose senile founder has been sucking the dried-up teat of his reputation for the past twenty years, has been taking advantage of the good will of local musicians while treating--and paying--them like crap, and who cannot even be bothered to list the cast or instrumentalists--you know, the people who are actually doing the show--on the website
Friday, May 7, 2010
Another lame excuse
OK. Would you believe...."I forgot my password"? Seriously. No joke. I am officially an eejit.
But, anyway, I managed to retrieve the super-secret sacred meme from its' TOO-well-hidden hiding place, and here I am...just long enough to say "OK, back soon......"
RM
But, anyway, I managed to retrieve the super-secret sacred meme from its' TOO-well-hidden hiding place, and here I am...just long enough to say "OK, back soon......"
RM
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