Via Sequencia

Poem for the First Day of Spring

Spring and sprung,
the grass is ris'.
I wonder where the boidies is.
The boidies? They is on the wing.
Oy, but that's obsoid!
Everyone knows the wing is on the boid!

  --Anonymous

Peeves, the 2008 Edition

As I was driving home today from the office, an SUV pulled out in front of me rather than waiting for me to pass (no one was behind me for blocks). I had to hit the brakes pretty hard to avoid hitting the idiot, and he then proceeded to drive 20-25 mph in a 30 mph zone. I know you know that kind of behavior just makes my blood boil. And boil it did.

Then, as I was slowly making my way north through Evanston, tailgating the dope, I started thinking of things that drive me crazy. Ready or not, here's a little list:

• Bad driving behavior, specifically the story immediately above
• Oregon being pronounced Or-eh-GON
• Incorrect usage of "I" instead of "me"
• Nuclear being pronounced Nuc-ye-lar (a la Jimmy Carter and George W. Bush)
• "Thank you for calling. How may I direct your call?" (How?)
• Doctoral being pronounced Doc-TOR-al; Pastoral being pronounced Pas-TOR-al
• The increasingly popular use of adjectives where adverbs ought to be (if people would stop breaking this simple grammatical rule, I would probably live happy ever after)

Okay, well, this is obviously not a complete list at all. Please feel free to put your favorite peeve in the comments. Oh . . . and happy Valentime's Day!

In the lane, snow is glistenin'

Instead of bitching about the weather, which has included too much snow and temperatures that are way too low for this gayboy's comfort, I want to share a picture I took immediately after this past Thursday's snowfall. Sometimes, I love winter. And looking at this picture, makes me think of those times.

Lumbar Schlumbar

If it wouldn't hurt like hell to do it, I'd climb up the mountain (or in my case the little bunny slope a couple doors down from our townhouse) and shout at the top of my lungs, "Enough already!"

A few weeks before we were to leave for the UK in November, I began to show symptoms of pain in my left lower extremity (that's how they say leg in medical speak—which makes no fucking sense to me, since it takes 15 keystrokes to type it instead of three). I've had that kind of pain before, and the doc always would say it's sciatica caused by a probable bulging disc or two in my lumbar spine (er. . . lower back). Yes, I know you know what that meant, but let me have my fun.

The last time I experienced any inconvenient symptoms from my disc bulge(s) was in 2005. I was given exercises to help strengthen my core, which I didn't do very often. Anyway, the pain left, and I always tried to be careful when lifting, twisting in the shower, or throwing my legs up over my . . . uh . . . nevermind. The threat from my doctor was always lurking that if I continued to have these problems, I'd have to get an MRI, but I managed to dodge that bullet for years.

One fact of my life as a period keyboard owner and performer is that I, on occasion, must move my own instruments. That's why we own a mini-van. You didn't think we drove one because we wanted to, did you? We have all the necessary tools: instrument covers with lifting straps, multiple dollies, seats that disappear into the floor of the vehicle, a stoop out front with only a few steps to navigate, etc. The only thing that Incontesta and I lack are exceedingly strong backs. But we have managed. We take turns taking the heavy end, and we've been successful in moving the fortepiano and harpsichord on many occasions. The fortepiano weighs just less than 200 lbs. and the harpsichord is probably between 80 and 90 (maybe a little more). And with the strapped covers and the dollies, moving these particular instruments isn't terribly difficult for the two of us (four makes it really easy, but we can't always rustle up the help). Nevertheless, I'm told by both my physician and my chiropractor that moving the instruments over the past 10 years is probably why my back is now fucked like a $2 ho.

One bulging disc (5 x 9 mm extrusion), one herniated disc (8 x 11 mm extrusion), and two degenerating discs. Krikey! (The doc's threat of an MRI finally caught up with me the Friday before Christmas. Have you ever had one? Oy! The NOISE!)

Now, this picture is not from my MRI (just thought it might add some drama to my lamenting post); but it's very similar to mine, from what I can see with my layman's eyes with that big old bulge down there.

Continuing on . . .

Two weeks before we were to leave for London, my lovely MD prescribed for me prednisone, vicodin, and a muscle relaxer. Yummmm! Made the trip manageable. Since then, however, he's told me that the vicodin train is about to pull into the station, and I'm going to be getting off. (Rats!)

So, in hopes of putting this all behind me, I'll be seeing a back surgeon within a week or so (MD's orders) to get his opinion, AND I've begun this treatment plan at a reputable back clinic downtown Chicago, which in one month—God willin' and the creek don't rise—will heal my aching back non-surgically.

Oh, yeah . . . I've also started weaning myself off the drugs. God knows I don't wanna have to go cold turkey when the doc pulls the plug on the refills!

Sweeney Todd, the Movie

Sweeney Todd is arguably Stephen Sondheim's masterpiece. I would most heartedly agree with that sentiment. I was lucky enough to see it on the stage in a Lyric Opera of Chicago production a few years ago and I also saw, of course, the televised production with Angela Lansbury and George Hearn—both wonderful experiences.

So when I heard Tim Burton was directing a movie version with those oh-so-well-known-for-their-singing-talents actors Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, and Alan Rickman, I was a skeptical. I could immediately see them acting the roles, but would that be enough?

When it comes to movies, I always try to accept them for what they are. This was no exception. I was determined to enjoy it, even if it didn't live up to the standard of the original work. And to my happy surprise, with the exception of the obviously missing chorus and one of its best parts of the show, "Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd," I loved the movie! And at least the beginning music of the movie (and the end music) included an orchestral arrangement of that chorus, so it wasn't completely lost. And I really loved the cast . . . all the way around.

Yes, I hear you purists out there. The singing wasn't what we're used to. And Sasha Baron Cohen wasn't vocally at all what we've come to know and love as Pirelli. But I say, so what? I loved his characterization.

For those fainthearted of you purists out there, the violence which is somewhat removed from the audience in the stage show is most indubitably not removed in the movie. Can you say gory? From arterial spurts of blood to corpses slamming onto a concrete slab two stories below, it's quite a horror show. Kudos to Tim Burton for adding his amazing touch. And hurray to the whole project for keeping the integrity of the story intact.

So . . . be sure to see this before it's gone. I'm sure it will lose something on the small screen, no matter how big your plasma TV and surround sound system is.

5 Sequencia Stars

Gelukkig Nieuwjaar

Greetings, my dear readers . . . and welcome to 2008!

I don't usually go to the annoying and futile bother of resolutions for the new year, but I feel strangely compelled this year. Here we go:

1. Be it resolved that in 2008 Sequencia will return to proper blogging, for the edification of himself and his readers.
2. Be it further resolved that in 2008 Sequencia will get more sleep on average per night.
3. Be it further resolved that in 2008 Sequencia will start using his health club membership.
4. Be it further resolved that in 2008 Sequencia will endeavor not to be annoyed by his partner, family members, superiors, subordinates, pedestrians, other drivers, neighbors, politicians, or anyone else who has annoyed him in the past year.
5. Be it further resolved that in 2008 Sequencia will not beat himself up when he fails to fulfill the terms of resolution 4, especially when it involves politicians.

Happy New Year everyone!

Happy Nativity, one and all!

In Memoriam

Mary Fran P.
Member Emeritus of the Soprano Section

Mary Fran, retired world-class soprano who was for decades the section leader of our 1st sopranos, died last night. She suffered from Alzheimer's and had been in declining health for some time. She was a great lady, and I am going to miss her very much. Those of us who were lucky enough to know her and work with her were indeed privileged to do so.

I would like to share with you now my most memorable personal moment with Mary Fran . . . .

We, Incontesta and I, have oft been interchangeable persons to people we know and love. I would even venture to say that on rare occasion, a family member might call me Incontesta and/or him, Sequencia. Needless to say, it gets old, and I have to wonder how the error can occur, as he has hair and I don't, he sings and I play, he is him and I am me. Anyway, it happens. We are also forced to endure the assumption that we're brothers from time to time. But back to my story.

On a Sunday morning of March 2003, I was looking forward in a few days to the milestone birthday called the "Big Four-O." I had always complained up to that point that Incontesta had never thrown me any sort of surprise party, and I assumed that he wouldn't this time, either, even though THIS was certainly the year to do it! Anyway...moving on. I was standing in the hallway of our church, vested in cassock and surplice, ready to begin my participation in the Eucharist that was about to commence.

I noticed Mary Fran, who had retired from singing in the choir a couple years earlier, was making her way over to me with a big smile on her face. She said, "I got the invitation and will definitely be there for the suprise! Thank you for inviting me."

Smiling back, I said, quite obliviously, "What invitation?"

The color draining from her face and her expression turning to a combination of embarrassment, frustration, and deep thought, as if to be thinking of some way to turn the clock back a minute or so, she shouted as only an 80-something diva could who has lost much of her hearing, "Damn! You're the wrong one!"

As she hurriedly turned and disappeared, I began to howl with glee! Not only did her "You're the wrong one!" crack me up, but Incontesta was throwing me a party! Yippee!

I had decided to chase after Mary Fran to tell her that if she didn't tell anyone that she'd told me, I certainly wouldn't. But as I chased after her, I saw her catch up with Incontesta and spill the beans. He was far more upset that the surprise had been spoiled than I was. As a matter of fact, today I'm extremely happy that I have this story to tell about our dear old Mary Fran.

May she rest in peace.

Open Letter to the Sewing Circle (aka Stitch 'n Bitch)

Circle of Sewers Bitches
444 N. You Know Where
Chicago USA

My dearest Fellow Stitchers Assholes,

What the hell was that? What did I ever do to you? Did it make you all feel better to each pick up your respective piles of shit and all at once hurl them at me? I certainly hope it did something for you, because I'm going to be cleaning it out of my hair, ears, nose, eyes, mouth, and clothes for the entire three-week hiatus before seeing you all again.

In all our weeks/months/years together, I have never felt so unwelcome, unwanted, unloved, and unsafe. Talk about having your parade rained on. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I arrived tonight giddy and all upbeat. Is this your way of assisting the universe in keeping itself in balance? To shoot me down hard to a low that is equal and opposite to my high? Or was it simply a way for you each to feel better about your own current state of unhappiness?

Well, whatever it was, it was successful. I thank you all for a very enlightening unpleasant evening. Oh, and before I forget, a very merry fucking Chrismahanukwanzaakkuh to you, too.

Very sincerely yours,
La Sequencia

01.20.09

Everyone knows what that is, right? 01.20.09? You're right! It's Bush's last day in office as this country's worst president.

Via Sequencia has been avoiding the topic of politics for a while. It had just become too depressing and annoying. But as the primary season is soon to begin in Iowa, it seems apropos to be a little political. After all, this blogger's entrance to the blogosphere was precipitated by the unfortunate outcome of the last presidential election.

So, we know Bush will be out. But who to nominate as our democratic candidate? I swear I just don't know what to do. Never before have I been so undecided at this point.

I like both Hillary and Barack. If you know me personally, you probably know that I'm a real friend of Bill (Clinton, that is). Forget his indiscretion with "that woman." It just doesn't matter. He was a great president with Hillary by his side. He wasn't perfect; no one will ever be a perfect president. But he was, in my humble opinion, a great man for the job. I can only believe that Hillary, with Bill by her side, would make a good president, as well. And I'd love to see the US finally elect a woman to the job.

Barack I also like. Not only is he the senator from my current state of residence, but he is a fresh, young, enthusiastic, progressive voice, and he's becoming a political rock star. I'm just a little concerned about some of his answers relating to issues that directly affect me as one of the gays. While Clinton didn't exactly do everything the way we (the gays) would have wanted him to during his presidency, he did always seem to be on our side. Will Barack be on our side? Will Hillary?

And which one can beat Giuliani? See why I hate this time in the four-year presidential political cycle? It really wears me out. And it's just gettin' goin'.