The Doug Tour Lives On!

I love leading music classes, group singing and lectures, but I also love touring visitors around my (still) fair city. Today was especially sweet because my visitors were Fernando and Menchu, two friends from Spain who have been promising to visit—for the last 28 years! And here they were on a day that bounced back and forth between close fog, distant fog and sun and things could not have gone better. Well, except for the fog never lifting from the Golden Gate Bridge so they still haven’t seen it!

We began with a unique Hash Brown sandwich breakfast, a specialty of the Korean cooks at the unique Art’s Café in my neighborhood. Went up the tower of the De Young Museum, sang overtones and performed body percussion in the acoustically live Skyspace in the Museum Garden, dropped in at Amoeba Records to get the DVD of Vertigo that we’ll show at our course tomorrow night. Walked down Haight and then Cole Street marveling at the Victorian architecture, took the N-Judah to the Ferry Building, walked around the Farmer’s Market there and had some ice coffees looking out at the Bay Bridge. 

Walked past the Exploratorium after visiting their shop, dropped into Levi-Strauss Building to learn a bit about the history of blue jeans, ascended the 389 steps to Coit Tower and took in the murals there. On to the best-kept-secret of Jack Early Park, to the house on Lombard Street where Jimmy Stewart took Kim Novak after she jumped into the water, now partially ruined by sour owners blocking the façade with a wall. Walked by a wedding at the North Beach Church where Marilyn Monroe and Joe Dimaggio didn’t actually get married, but pretended they did (look up the story), had lunch at Mario’s Cigar Box Café and coffee at Café Trieste. A quick peek into City Lights bookstore and ready for the next chapter of the tour.

Which brought us to Chinatown, peeking into stores with herbs and food products we had never seen and almost having some puer tea at one (will save it for another time). Then to Washington Square Park, where a woman sang some Chinese songs accompanied by six musicians on Chinese instruments following a numbered notation. Then back up to Grant Street where there was a Lion Dance in front of the Wok Shop. All the drummers and cymbal players were young woman and some of the dancers as well. Yeah!! That was refreshing. Up the hill to the Fairmont Hotel, a look at the apartment building in Vertigo and then up 23 floors to the Crown Room, a room theoretically closed to the public, but the elevator took us there and we had the place to ourselves to look out at the stunning views. A quick peek into the Tonga Room, the bar with its Polynesian décor, pool of water and boat where the musicians play. On to Grace Cathedral, enjoying the sacred indoor space and then walking the labyrinth where so many visitors have walked with me. 

9 hours out in the city, probably some 10 miles of walking, good food and great company. Fernando and Menchu are two of the most cultured and educated people I know and their knowledge mixed with their curiosity brought new dimensions to everything we saw and experienced. Can we Americans finally agree to educate ourselves beyond the bare minimum of pop culture, sports figures, cool aps and movie stars? What a difference that would make. In everything. Politics, aesthetics, level of public discourse, quality of life. 

Tonight we’re off to sing Sea Chanties. Tomorrow, Dim Sum, more Vertigo sights and back down to Carmel Valley. I have loved teaching these 29 Level III students and believe I have given them the usual 150% of myself. But truth be told, this was just the kind of break I needed after almost 30 days of teaching in four courses. Time outdoors, desperately needed exercise, two friends instead of 100 people in close quarters and re-connecting with the city I still love. Just what the doctor ordered!

William Carlos Williams Updated

Wi-fi is pretty spotty in the hotel where I’m staying and more times than I’m happy about, that blue line won’t move and I can’t get online. And so I bring poet William Carlos Williams (1883-1963) into the modern world:

So much depends

upon

a thin blue line

moving to the right

of a white bar.  

Rankism

A student in the course I’m teaching told me an extraordinary story. In his home country of Chile, there was a survey with the following question:

“You are offered a higher salary in your job. You can choose between $5000 more which all of your colleagues will also receive or a $1000 more which only you receive.”

The vast majority chose the latter. 

This pervasive need to be better than your neighbor, to be ranked higher whether you deserved or not, was the cornerstone of slavery and a larger part of Trump being elected. Poor white people who had more in common with the oppressed blacks were purposefully duped by those in power into thinking that they were on the team of the oppressors, given a token amount of privilege to feed an identity based on a illusory superiority. It worked brilliantly and still does. But at such a cost.  The recent terrorist who shot two innocent children whose parents brought them to have some fun at the Gilroy Garlic Festival was reading the white supremacist literature and buying the assault rifle the NRA provided in the name of freedom. 

An overlooked book titled “Somebodies and Nobodies” added rankism to the list of damaging isms and one that cuts through them all. Of course, there will always be hierarchies and when they come from earned accomplishment— the master musician or the wise elder—they are necessary and life-giving. But the idea that one’s identity is based on feeling one inch taller than your neighbor is death-dealing, both literally (the Garlic Festival) and spiritually. “I am the chosen one and all the ‘others’ are doomed for hell” is good for exactly no one. 

Meanwhile, in some village in West Africa, it was said that some Westerner organized a contest amongst the children and told them whoever ran to the tree the fastest would get a prize. The children joined hands and ran together to arrive at the same time. Without being overly romantic and ignoring the rankism that certainly exists there, I do believe that there is a spirit of community togetherness that we would learn from. The crazy Gods of Western civilization threw down Coke bottles into every town and hamlet and people are still fighting to claim it as theirs and theirs alone. 

Let’s train the children to take the $1000. Or better yet, consider if they deserved it all. 

Verdi Nightmare

At 7:45pm, I was frantically getting ready to go to a Verdi Opera in San Francisco where I was the featured piano accompanist. The problem was: 

• The Opera started at 8:00 and I wasn’t dressed yet or hadn’t eaten dinner.

• I had never played for an Opera in  my life.

• I didn’t know this Opera and had never heard or seen the music. 

• I was concerned that I might be sight-reading a musical interlude as a featured soloist.

• I was worried I’d be accompanying an Opera star trying to follow her fermatas—again, with music I didn’t know in the slightest. 

• I forgot my suit and was frantically looking through my closet for something presentable to wear.

• A bus passed by outside and publicly announced the opera with a  loudspeaker that blasted “featuring Doug Goodkin on piano.” 

• It was now two minutes to 8 and I  had yet to leave. 

And then…

I woke up. 

Deepening Roots, Spreading Branches

Ending the World Music Course on Saturday and beginning the next course on Sunday was hardly conducive to reflection about another year around the sun. But the short story is this: 

Growing older with intention, awareness, still-intact curiosity helps send the roots of this old tree yet deeper into the ground. The darkness and grief there turn out to be life-giving and appear as necessary companions in life’s journey. The tree is anchored yet more solidly and the underground springs soak up through the roots to the branches. And the branches themselves keep reaching for the light and spreading out further. I couldn’t help but notice and feel blessed by the Facebook birthday greetings coming from around the U.S. and Canada, from Brazil, Colombia, Argentina, South Africa, Australia, Iceland, Finland, Spain, Germany, Turkey, Russia, India, Thailand, Singapore, Hong Kong, Japan and beyond, all (well, many) of the wonderful folks I’ve had the pleasure to meet and work with in my world travels spreading the good news about Orff Schulwerk. And then the in-person birthday songs from the 100 international teachers gathered here in Hidden Valley for the annual Orff Certification course. 

Everyone knows about the trials and tribulations of aging, the failing, sagging body, the diminishing of powers and such, but health permitting, the joys and pleasures are many and they’re real. Not to be lightly traded for the young, sexy body, which isn’t an option anyway. So hooray for 68 years old and no better birthday wish than to keep sinking the roots yet deeper and keep reaching toward the light. 

Chocolate, Socks and Books

Had an early family birthday celebration with my wife, daughter, sister and husband, nephew and fiancé and a few friends. At my age, don’t really expect gifts any more, but I got some. And they were perfect!

Two dark chocolate bars. Always welcome.

Socks. Long in need to these!

Books. Still a staple in my diet, though getting close to the end of bookshelf space. Read and recycle is the key. 

A great early start to my 68^thyear!

The Virtues of Fidelity

Many persons have the wrong idea of what constitutes true happiness. It is not attained through self-gratification, but through fidelity to a worthy purpose. – Helen Keller

I am living testimony to the virtue of staying the course for the long haul. Especially if it’s a worthy one that requires constant renewal, effort, intelligence, imagination, dedication, sacrifice and the constant blessing of the energy that cycles back. 

I also can testify that the idea of unseen helping hands and mysterious forces at work is real. Like the other night when a friend I’ve known for 44 years appeared with a gift— some 5 handwritten letters my wife and I had written him 40 years ago on our trip around the world. He had saved them, was now cleaning house and chose this particular moment to return them. 

Needless to say, I was stunned. Because the first one I read was one I had had written near the end of that trip living in Surakarta, Java. It was all about the merits of immersing myself in new culture and what it meant to be as an emerging teacher. To quote: 

I can’t imagine a year better suited than this one for our development as teachers. Since school represents to me the propagation of a ‘new’ culture, this year of observing and experiencing so many different cultures has allowed a clarity and understanding of culture in general, our own in particular and alternative education’s role in shaping and transforming the presently emerging culture. 

 Since I was in the midst of teaching a course on World Music and began by suggesting that we all benefit, teachers and students alike, when we immerse ourselves in diverse cultural experiences, the timing was uncanny. The next day, I read the above to the class, showing them that at a young 28 years old, I was already convinced that this was important and beginning my journey into making the “other” my own. 

But I was yet more stunned to read the next section, especially in light of the fact that three weeks from now, I will beginning my last of 45 years at the school. 

The other day we went to use the swimming pool at a fancy hotel in town. We had it all to ourselves and as we floated around in the pool surrounded by lush tropical plants, the day, like most of them, our own to do as we will, we reflected on being back in the city, getting up early, running out of the house, driving thru morning traffic, spending the day with over 100 high-energy children with barely a moment to go to the toilet, running errands or going to after school meetings, squeezing in interests like piano practice, weaving or taking classes in the evenings etc. etc. It all sounded pretty crazy to us in that moment of poolside luxury. 

But we were smiling inside because we knew that that craziness is our life and that we love it. That school is our swimming pool, the kids, parents and teachers beautiful tropical plants that give out the oxygen we need to breathe. 

 Isn’t that remarkable? 40 years later, that oxygen still sustaining my life. My fidelity to a worthy purpose has indeed brought—and continues to bring—true happiness.