SUMMER'S GONE

Summer's gone,

and it has been a busy one. First, I had to finish up the two books which went to press in June, Peter's Story and The Idea of the Local; then, no sooner than you turn around, you have to be sending out review/promotional copies, writing news releases, and starting to arrange interviews and book signings. Add to that the fact that I always seem to struggle with "post-partum depression" when I have a new book birthed. And - this time - two new books. It has been a blur.

Yet I'm happy to report, things are starting to look up.

I will be teaching Creative Nonfiction again at Lakeland College, with the first class slated for August 29, 6 p.m. to 9 p.m., so I am preparing for that, converting the lessons I delivered three times a week for an hour at a time for delivery once a week for three hours. My success teaching the first class apparently is going to be my downfall this time - the roster this year swelled to sixteen students. I've got to figure out how I'll keep them from falling asleep before 9 p.m. You can imagine it will be a challenge all fall.

And on top of that. You may remember that I played bass with my former Trinity classmates, Doc Abbick and Dean Schechinger, at our 42nd year class reunion in Sioux City this past June. We'd rehearsed forty-two songs and played in the lounge at the hotel on a Saturday night from 9:00 p.m. to 12:45 a.m. We just couldn't let it end there. So we conceived the idea of creating a "children's album" of songs from fairy tales, and this summer I drafted lyrics for eleven such fairy tale songs, plus one nonsense song. I put "children's album" in quotes advisedly, because I think adults will enjoy the silliness as well. As, for instance, the refrain from "Little Red Riding Hood."

They call me a hood
Little Miss Red
Cuz of this scarf
I wear on my head
I'm such a sweet girl
But don't you dare cross me
Like that wolf did
Who's pushing up parsley....

Dean has already written music for many of the songs, and on the weekend of August 18-19, he and Doc and I will spend three long days starting to record them; we'll work at completing the album throughout the fall, hoping for a release in time for Christmas. Don't you worry, I won't be doing any of the singing! I will play bass, however. The whole enterprise should be a hoot. And the recording session will be something of a last hurrah before school starts up.

Once it is released, I will announce the album's availability here at The Middlewesterner. I think we will sell it on-line through CD Baby, where Doc already sells an album of his own.

If you'd told me forty-two years ago that a bunch of old farts could have this much fun, I wouldn't have believed you!

Summer's gone, yup. And I'm going to try to get back in the habit of putting up posts here. You may have noticed that I've slacked off for a while? Well, I'm here to tell you, I miss writing regularly, so I'm back at it, and you're gonna be stuck with me.

Yup, summer's gone, and it's time to get back at it. Whatever it is.

Comments

[the sylph]

I disagree...summer is at its hottest most humid peak with crickets and katydids and corn and peaches. It's not over 'til it's over...Labor Day. Then I'll call it Indian summer for a few weeks in denial.

[MB]

Your comment about old farts having fun gave me a big smile. How can one not have fun with music?? I'm looking forward to more of your posts; you've been missed.

[Tom Montag]

Technically you're right, Slyph. Technically, August 15 (Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin into Heaven) is the mid-point between summer solstice and fall equinox, like Halloween is a mid-point, and Ground-hog's Day, and May Day are mid-points. I was speaking of the emotional tide of things here, in this house, where summer IS over, no more lounging about, and I have got to get at it.

I always hold out for Indian summer, for three weeks if we can get it. Sometimes, of course, I am disappointed.

[Tom Montag]

Hi, MB. Glad to make you smile. One of those old farts just sent me an e-mail saying, "Let's toast to old farts having fun. Amen." Amen.

Writing feels like a "monologue." Playing music is always a "dialogue," sometimes even a several-way conversation.

I've been making music with my guitar-player friend about once a week lately, and it is tremendously fun. I am even trying to approximate a line or two from "Dueling Banjos" on the bass now and again, and if that's not fun, I don't know what is!