Via Sequencia

Via Sequencia celebrates four years

Just after George W. Bush was re-elected president in 2004, I launched this blog as a place to spew my vitriol. I was so unbelievably angry that the people of this great country of ours could make the same mistake twice. Of course, now we can rejoice in knowing that circumstances leading up this year's general election proved to the electorate that we needed some major change. The fact that 64,417,303 of us (as the count stands so far) voted for Barack Obama to be president, gives me great hope in us. 

I am very disappointed that a majority of the voters in California felt it necessary to take away from our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters their newly given marriage rights, but I'll save that for another day's post. The fact that Barack—I feel like I can call him that since that's how he's been signing his many emails to me—mentioned the gays in his victory speech gives me some hope, as well. 

After my man Bill left office, I wondered if I'd be inspired by a presidential candidate again. I'm happy to say that I am. 

Welcome home, dear

For almost a week now, Incontesta has been staying with his parents so I could be free to go to work. It's been hard having him away from home, but I've spent as much time there with him as I've been able. Finally, last night, he wanted to come home for the night. He had missed the Ladies Dundee and our nice big bed. It's been a nice night.

Now, back to sleep. Funny how one never knows when one is going to have an overwhelming urge to blog. Cheers!

Knee update

We were given wrong information. Incontesta was released today and is resting somewhat uncomfortably in the easy chair. More soon.

Day of Surgery

Just heard that my beloved Incontesta will be kept in the hospital overnight. Damn! He came through surgery just fine, as far as I know, but I haven't been able to see him yet. Please enjoy this lovely picture of his leg from the day of the accident.

Ode to Il Supremo

Some years ago—not quite sure how many exactly—a young singer who was desperately trying to find his voice ("Am I a tenor? Am I a countertenor?") breezed into the lives of Incontesta and me. This wonderfully effervescent and flamboyant young man instantly intrigued me and very soon after won my heart. He is known by many names—Il Supremo, Prophet Gregorius, Sr. Mary Magnifique, Manprano, et cetera, but his mama gave him the name Gregory. This is my humble attempt to honor one of my favorite collaborative musicians, one of the most fabulous gayboys walking the earth, and one of my very best friends.

This very obviously brilliant—just ask him—musician started studying with Incontesta, and within a few months became quite aware that he was indeed a countertenor; as a matter of fact, he was a soprano countertenor. It was one of the most beautiful voices I'd heard, and I couldn't wait for him to finally "get it" and really come into himself vocally.

Over the next couple of years, I had the privilege of playing for him in lessons and enjoying his progress. It's such a gift to have the opportunity to witness an intuitive musician with more ambition than anyone I know work so well with such a great teacher as is my dearly beloved husband. When they worked together, sparks flew. I was witnessing history.

In 2004, when Incontesta took over as choir director and I as organist at our suburban parish, we brought Gregory on as a section leader. The choir didn't know what had hit 'em, but Incontesta and I sure did. Not only did we have our section leader, but also a resident composer, a substitute director for when we were both away, and an ambassador—or was it a mascot—of bitchiness and hilarity. (I endlessly tease him as I am doing here, but I assure you it is only out of great respect and love for the dear boy.)

It has been my great delight to watch him work toward his newly earned Master of Music degree. And in these past few years, I have had the great happiness to collaborate with Gregory on three recital projects. We had the greatest fun making wonderful music together. Next to my husband, I've enjoyed collaborating with Gregory the most.

Why am I going on like this? Because our dear boy is about to leave us for his next life-adventure as the newest soprano with Chanticleer. I couldn't be happier for him than I am. But I couldn't be sadder for myself. Our boy is moving on toward greater things. I know he isn't really leaving us; he's simply expanding his world.

Glegoly, my dear, Mommy is so proud! I am going to miss having you in my life on a near daily basis. I am going to miss hearing you sing to my right as I play the organ. I am going to miss your infectious laugh. I am going to miss trying to read my music through tears as you and I perform things like Duruflé's "Pie Jesu." I am going to miss sitting with you and bitching about the mundane. I am going to miss kissing and hugging you at least twice a week. Thank you for your compositions that I've had the great honor to premiere. Thank you for all the many things you've done for me. Thank you for being my sister, my BPI therapist, my wedding attendant, my collaborator, and my friend. I wish you the greatest success as you embark on this exciting journey. I love you with all my heart.

God bless the iPhone

Just updated my iPhone to version 2.0. Can now blog from my iPhone. My calendars now all sync properly. I am now, for the first time since buying this lovely phone, able to do all I want to do with it. Gregory, dear, I am finally without any disappointment. I'm giddy really!

5+++ Sequencia Stars

Some of God's creatures are a big pain in the butt

Herman, the squirrel, strikes again. Usually he just makes a mess out of our garbage after we put it in the receptacle out back. A couple years ago, he singlehandedly ate all the tomatoes we had growing long before they were ready to be harvested. Actually, he tasted each one and left the remainder to rot in the grass.

This year, however, Herman outdid himself. He built a nest up in the underneath side of our Yaris and chewed through the fuel line that was obviously in his way. Incontesta discovered this lovely fact yesterday as he was driving home and almost passed out from the gasoline fumes that were creeping into the car. It took him two and a half hours and 3/4 of a tank of gas to go 8 miles this morning to the car dealership to be told it would cost us over $700 to undo Herman's damage (none of it covered by the warranty, of course).

Tomorrow I go shopping for a slingshot.

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.

In Praise of the MacBook Pro

I have found myself over the years to be somewhat attracted to Macintosh® computers, but like the loyal husband, I have always remained faithful to my first computing partner, the PC.

I remember the 8088, that old clunky thing from the 80s, then the AT, then the 386, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.  My God, that seems so long ago! I also remember my friend Keith telling me—when I was preparing to purchase my first computer in 1990—that I would never fill a 20 megabyte hard drive, and he was curious why I felt the need to spend the extra dough on the 40 meg option available on the AST® I was looking to buy. Never fill 20 megs? The only reason he never filled a hard drive was because he wasn't an avid collector of "art photos" like I was destined to become. Of course, they were only available through the news groups back then. Oh, the hours I wasted invested downloading!

Over the years, I have enjoyed my computing journey. DOS® to Windows® (what a day that was for me!). And now we find ourselves with Vista®. Hmmm... I have yet to see it. I've only heard horror stories. I loved every time WordPerfect® would release a new version. Those were the glory days for me. I knew every keyboard shortcut there was to know. Ah, the memories!

Well, after the aforementioned horror stories I'd heard about Vista®, I was prepared to stick with XP® for as long as I could. Then one day, while Incontesta and I least expected it, one of his students came to a lesson with his brand new MacBook Pro, and I instantly fell in love. And to my complete surprise, so did Incontesta. He turned to me and asked, "Would you like to go by the Apple® store after lessons?" If my teeth were fake, they'd have fallen right out into my lap at that very moment.

So a couple hours later, we went to the store and found ourselves Mac® users. I will promise that I will endeavor not to become one of those Mac assholes who insist that PCs are worthless and that PC users should be considered second class citizens. But I have to tell you that I'm very, very happy we switched. This machine just makes me smile every time I look at it.

Mom is happy, too, because I gave her my two-year-old Dell® laptop (she was still using an old Windows® 98 desktop...poor thing!).

Now, if only Corel® would see the error of its ways in deciding not to develop WordPerfect® any longer for Mac®, my life would be SoftwarePerfect.

In memoriam

Our dear friend Cal (pictured above in the middle with Eddie and Incontesta) died yesterday morning after suffering a stroke a few weeks ago. We've known Cal for about ten years and have stayed with him in New Orleans a few times. He and his former partner owned a wonderful house in the French Quarter, which served as headquarters for our Mardi Gras and Southern Decadence visits. Cal and we have had a very close friendship, but we have no connection with his family, so we feel very out of the loop now. What a horrible feeling!

Farewell, sweet Calvin, may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. We love you and will miss you terribly.