Alexandersmap

    Category: Music

    • Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral

      Over in Killarney, many years ago
      My mother sang a song to me
      in tones so sweet and low
      Just a simple little ditty
      in her good old Irish way
      And I’d give the world if she could sing
      that song to me this day
      Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
      Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don’t you cry!
      Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
      Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that’s an Irish lullaby.
      — James Royce Shannon, Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ral

      Saint Patrick’s Day came early for me this year when tickets for The Irish Tenors became available and I quickly opted in. Life is funny that way, isn’t it? Saturday morning I woke up and The Irish Tenors weren’t even on my radar. Monday morning comes around and I’ve got their voices ringing in my head. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral indeed.

      We have many such moments in our lives. Opportunities to say yes to unexpected adventures or opportunities. It’s easy to say no and just keep on doing what we always do. Routine is our saving grace in some instances, but our shackles in others. We must develop our awareness and wisdom to know when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em. Opportunities don’t come around every day, as every human who has ever truly lived can attest.

      A good rule of thumb in such moments is to be bold but not reckless. What is the best that can come of this moment? What’s the worst? For something like attending an Irish Tenors concert, there’s almost no downside other than time away from routine—an obvious “hell yes!” For decisions where the stakes are higher, say changing jobs, there ought to be more consideration. But the filters work in either case.

      Attending that concert was delightful. I’m not one to walk around whistling old Irish songs, but I knew plenty of them. To use the French phrase, these are the moments that collectively bring us to joie de vivre and the joy of living. When we are active participants in such moments, especially with those you love, joyfulness is an attainable state. Jump right in and sing along.

    • Living Joyfully

      “To be joyous is to be a madman in a world of sad ghosts.” — Henry Miller

      The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time
      Any fool can do it
      There ain’t nothing to it
      Nobody knows how we got to the top of the hill
      But since we’re on our way down
      We might as well enjoy the ride
      — James Taylor, Secret o’ Life

      There are people in my life who have seen me frustrated, angry and depressed. We can’t go through life without these feelings, particularly with things we can’t control, like the death of a loved one or frustration at the ineptitude of the U.S. Congress (by no means am I equating the two of those). But it’s those things that we can’t control that are the very things we can’t have drag us into darkness. Amor fati: love of fate. We don’t have to love the outcome (often we feel quite the opposite) but we ought to learn to accept that which we are living through.

      Every year I’m on this planet I feel myself move further away darkness and closer to joy. I know life won’t get easier, my peak fitness level is a distant memory, and the longer I’m on this planet the more things can go horribly wrong for all of us. We can know these things and still enjoy the ride. Who’s more likely to keep things together when it all goes to hell, the sad ghosts among us or the optimistic people who get things done?

      I know joyfulness is considered quaint and naive in some circles. I’ll take joy over melancholy any day. Self-pity is an indulgent act we have no time for in a lifetime measured in trips around the sun. We must move beyond ourselves and embrace the world. Indeed, embrace our place in this world, and make the very best of it. There is truly madness and misery in this world, but there’s also joy. Which do we want to dance with?

    • Keeping the Old at Bay

      And I knew all of my life
      That someday it would end
      Get up and go outside
      Don’t let the old man in
      Many moons I have lived
      My body’s weathered and worn
      Ask yourself how would you be
      If you didn’t know the day you were born
      Try to love on your wife
      And stay close to your friends
      Toast each sundown with wine
      Don’t let the old man in
      — Toby Keith, Don’t Let the Old Man In

      I haven’t been a skating exhibition in years. Why would I? I didn’t know any active figure skaters, or at least I didn’t know I knew any active figure skaters. It turns out I did know one, and so we went to watch her skate last night. What I saw was women and men of all ages skating in synchronized acts of skill and grace. No Olympic-style jumps at this event, just large groups of people gliding across the ice not hitting each other. I was likely the person in the arena with the least knowledge of the sport and found it enjoyably unique. It turns out you don’t have to travel to faraway places to place yourself in an environment foreign to you—just step into someone else’s world for a few hours.

      We’re all getting older, friend. Given that reality, we must keep the old at bay. Do things that challenge the mind and body and spirit. Stretch in new directions while we’re limber enough to reach without injuring ourselves. Take Thoreau’s advice and rise free from care before the dawn and seek adventure. We aren’t getting any younger than this. Toby Keith, whispers his lyrics from the grave: Someday it will end. Memento mori. So don’t let the old man in.

      You can laugh when your dreams
      Fall apart at the seams
      And life gets more exciting
      With each passing day
      And love is either in your heart
      Or on it’s way
      — Frank Sinatra (Carolyn Leigh/Johnny Richards), Young at Heart

      They say that people who retire early age quicker than those who work well into their senior years. I say it’s not about the work, it’s about having a reason to get out of bed in the morning. What stirs the imagination? We ought to be leaping out of bed to go do that. Stack new experiences one atop the other and see where it takes us. Get off the phone, step away from the computer screen and dance with the world.

      Sure, we all have obligations and responsibilities. We have deadlines and commitments. Just now I got a notification to check in for a business flight. The work seemingly never stops, but if we aren’t careful we won’t notice our best years have slipped away without doing those things we most want to do. Watching those people skate around on the ice, some of them old enough to be the grandparents of some skaters who preceded them, was a great reminder to get up and get out there. Carpe diem.

    • Shared Experience

      Calling California or new to New York
      It don’t matter where you wanna roam
      It don’t matter high or low or the clothes you wanna wear
      We’re making good time with your hand fitting into mine
      Every mile you’re where my story goes
      It don’t matter fast or slow we’re gettin’ there
      — Graham Colton, Gettin’ There

      It’s still very much winter in New England (snow is flying even as I write this), but spring fever is beginning to creep up within me. The desire to get out in the world and meet it is always present, balanced by an underlying sense of place appreciating right where I am already. Life is full of choices, and with choice comes opportunity cost. We can’t do it all, but we can build a life that allows us to optimize some experiences we value more than others.

      I write this knowing I’m traveling a lot in the coming months. Travel doesn’t feel real until you’re doing it, and the paradox of travel is it doesn’t always feel real when you’re actually doing it either. That is unless you travel frequently and become conditioned to living out of a bag. Having lived both sides of this lifestyle, I know the opportunity cost of both.

      The best travel is done with people you want to share experiences with. In the end, our experiences together are the most rewarding. When we think about our favorite memories, most of them involve being around others. My solo hikes and visits to incredible places around the world were wonderful, but would have been that much better as a shared experience. If I ever seem to be in a hurry to get to any next phase of my life, it’s mostly so that I might share more experiences with the people who mean the most to me.

      We can’t rush through life. Experience means nothing if we aren’t immersed in it. Yes, there is a cost, but also an underlying opportunity in being “here, now” that we can’t miss out on. The trick is to be aware and present for all of it, even as we structure our lives to maximize that time together. We’re writing a story of a lifetime, after all, and every great story is better shared with others.

    • Words That Will Last

      Now I’m a reader of the night sky
      And a singer of inordinate tunes
      That’s how I float across time, living way past my prime
      Like a long lost baby’s balloon
      So I hang on to the string, work that whole gravity thing
      But when my space ship goes pop, back to the earth I will drop
      Into the sea, or the limbs of a tree
      Or the wings of my love
      And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do
      Maybe invent me a story or two
      I’ve got coastal confessions to make
      How ’bout you, how ’bout you?
      They say that time is like a river
      And stories are the key to the past
      But now I’m stuck in-between here at my typing machine
      Trying to come up with some words that will last
      It’s so easy to see that we live history
      And if I just find the beat, I know I’ll land on my feet
      I always do, hadn’t got a clue
      Does it come from above?
      — Jimmy Buffett, Coastal Confessions

      On those occasions where I debate the merit of Jimmy Buffett to the catalog of great lyricists, I generally point to Coastal Confessions or A Pirate Looks at 40 as examples of a writer tapping into magic. As a person trying to tap into magic now and then myself, I appreciate a great poem disguised as song. We’re all trying to find words that will last a beat longer than the average sound bite, aren’t we?

      Lately I’m caught up in refining my habits and routines, that I might be more efficient and such. This betrays a desire to do work that matters with the urgency of a quarterback who’s seen that this game is all about clock management. We can be the most brilliant player on the field and it won’t matter a lick if we run out of time before we complete the drive. The thing is, even when we do everything perfectly, sometimes the kick goes wide right. The universe has its own say in how things play out. Memento mori, Carpe diem. Amor fati.

      This blog remains a line of breadcrumbs between where I started and where I am today. The path ahead is only hinted at. Breadcrumbs have a way of being swallowed up in time. I’m not naive enough to believe any of these words will last as they are published. In the end, it’s the ripple, not the splash that lingers. A splash is immediate, the ripple may touch people who were never aware there was a splash at all. The thing is, the world is full of people trying to make a bigger splash than everyone else. That leads to a confused sea state, with ripples coming from all directions. Best to set our own course and invite others along for the ride. I’ve set my own course for the coast of somewhere beautiful.

      Speaking of confused sea states, I’ve just lumped a few analogies into one short blog post. What else is new? Some of these themes have repeated over and over again. That’s inevitable with a couple of thousand blog posts, but it’s mostly just me reminding myself to keep going with it. The story is still being written, after all. We can’t control the result but we can manage the clock a bit, and discover that we love the game.

    • Yesterday’s Music

      I learn something about myself every time the Grammy’s are on. Mostly I learn that I’m out of touch with popular music. The kind of music I listen to doesn’t make the cut most of the time. You’d be hard pressed to find a lot of Americana or alternative on the live show nowadays. The fact that they sprinkled in a little rock and roll was something to delight in. Modern music is never really for the parents of the audience the music is targeting. How can a kid break away from their parents if they’re listening to the same music?

      The thing is, music is never truly original anymore. It’s all derived from something that came before. Sometimes it’s a riff or bass line borrowed from a classic, sometimes it’s a cover song that shakes up a new audience, like Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” as sung by old soul Luke Combs. Some of us were around for the original’s debut. Looking back at the music from that time (1988-1989) is a time warp for me, just as it will be for someone listening to Dua Lipa’s music of today in 35 years will be for them. Music is timeless, even if we aren’t. Cover songs and sampling are clear evidence of this.

      You got a fast car
      Is it fast enough so we can fly away?
      We gotta make a decision
      Leave tonight or live and die this way
      — Tracy Chapman, Fast Car

      When “Fast Car” came out I was still swept up in The Joshua Tree, which had come out a year before, and I didn’t embrace it at the time. The lyrics depressed me then—she sounded trapped and I didn’t want to be trapped. I was looking for anthems to inspire and lift me out of the trap. Yet the sentiment was the same for a restless spirit trying to figure out what the hell to do with himself when adulthood knocked on the door. Chapman and U2 were singing the same message to me, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.

      I have run
      I have crawled
      I have scaled these city walls
      These city walls
      Only to be with you
      But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
      — U2, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For

      Fast forward a few decades and I still watch the Grammy’s, if only to reflect on yesterday’s music and to see what all the fuss is about in today’s pop music. The themes are the same, only the faces change. We’re all just trying to figure it out as we move through our time. The trap has always been within, no matter the age. We can leave tonight or live and die this way. What exactly are we looking for anyway?

    • To Live For

      “The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.” ― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

      You may have heard this before here, but time flies (tempus fugit). The more we put behind us, the more we might see just how essential purpose is to our identity. We produce what we might in our lifetimes, we nurture a character that grows through the seasons, systems, habits and trends we put it through, and always, we are that average of the people we associate with the most. To live for others is to carry ourselves in such a way that we make a ripple that rolls outward beyond us.

      A friend was recently trying to lure me to another company with tales of a great culture, fancy resume-friendly titles and high earnings potential. A different version of me would have jumped at the chance to make a big splash. Imagine the splash on LinkedIn when I posted that change? But this version of me sees the folly in that plunge. I’ll take the quiet ripple, thank you. To be present and engaged in this place and time with those who mean the most is everything.

      Purpose seems such a lofty word for the average person. We conjure up heroic images—characters who transcend the routine and lead to us to salvation. The idea of a purpose can be a trap disguised as a compass heading. The trap is in forever looking elsewhere for true north, when it’s usually whispering in our ear all along.

      What’s it all about, Alfie?
      Is it just for the moment we live?
      — Burt Bacharach, Alfie

      The right it transforms us. The wrong it has us running around in circles. Life is short and yes, time flies. We have no time to waste chasing the wrong cause when the essential is right there waiting for us.

      We spend far too much time trying to find a higher purpose and not nearly enough embracing the essential truth we encounter along the way. It’s all about being there for those who mean the most to us in our time. As infuriating as it might feel for those who haven’t yet found it, trust in the process: we know what to live for when we find it. When we give of ourselves to the right people that love is reflected back to us.

    • What Are Words For?

      My lips are moving and the sound’s coming out
      The words are audible but I have my doubts
      That you realize what has been said
      You look at me as if you’re in a daze
      It’s like the feeling at the end of the page
      When you realize you don’t know what you just read
      What are words for
      When no one listens anymore
      What are words for
      When no one listens
      What are words for
      When no one listens
      There’s no use talking at all
      — Missing Persons, Words

      I’m dating myself pulling out a New Wave song from the 80’s, but the lyrics are timeless, and really, more relevant than ever. In this sound bite world, the art of listening seems to be lost. It feels like so many are in such a hurry to speak that they never really listen. Worse, those who shout over others seem to be rewarded for their behavior by the crowd. We don’t live in a professional wrestling script, no matter how much politicians and talking heads want to embrace it. Life is far more nuanced than forever seeking the mic drop moment in everything that comes out of our mouths.

      Who is more powerful, the person who talks all the time or the one who listens to understand what is being said before speaking? The real power broker is the quiet one in the corner pulling the strings, unnoticed for the theatrics up on stage. Who do we aspire to become ourselves? The puppet or the puppeteer? The very best conversations aren’t happening in the populist shouting matches, they’re happening behind the scenes. The ticket to enter that circle is to learn to listen and speak intelligently, with insight and purpose.

      “We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.”
      — Epictetus

      The thing is, the people reading a blog focused mainly on philosophy, poetry, history and self-improvement have already figured this out. The trick is to influence the people on the edge of our circle that they may be less inclined to join the shouting and begin to listen and see the world for what it is. The world needs a voice in the crowd to rally around now and then, if only to corral the masses towards a common vision. But the real momentum in life is built one quiet conversation at a time. Here we find meaning and understanding and consensus. Here we find a path forward, together. We ought to ensure it doesn’t become a lost art.

    • Easier vs. Harder

      “Hard choices, easy life. Easy choices, hard life.” ― Jerzy Gregorek

      It’s easier to defer. I’ve been deferring a project for two years that I’ve done twice before and know deep down just how time-consuming it will be for me. But I also recall just how fun it was to do, and how much pride I had in the finished product once complete. Yet I watch the time tick away, days turn into months, months pile into a couple of years now and counting. And what was once a small project is growing into an albatross around my neck.

      The easiest way to start a hard project is to simply begin with the first step. The next step will become apparent, and it turns out it’s not all that big a step. Which brings to mind a holiday tune that may be out of season but never fully out of my brain:

      You never will get where you’re going
      If ya never get up on your feet
      Come on, there’s a good tail wind blowin’
      A fast walking man is hard to beat
      Put one foot in front of the other
      And soon you’ll be walking ‘cross the floor
      — Jules Bass, Put One Foot in Front of the Other

      This blog is a good example in my own life of something that was nagging at me for years before I simply began. One post turned into many, and soon I began a streak that is well past two thousand. Some posts are better than others, but the journey is clearly towards improvement and progression. We are what we repeatedly do, as I repeatedly quote, as much a reminder to myself as to the reader, who is generally a step ahead of me on the concept.

      We began one project this weekend that had been nagging me for years. I mentioned it to my bride, she immediately agreed (relieved no doubt that I’d finally decided to take action) and we’ll finish it this weekend. It turns out the project isn’t as painful as thinking about doing the project. Which brings us full circle back to that albatross I referenced earlier. Now that the one project is done, the other remains, mocking me for the time it’s taking to just leap. Just decide and get to it already.

      The thing is, there will always be projects when we consistently move forward in our lives. The only people without projects are those who choose to linger in the identity they once had. Life is hard enough without us getting in our own way. It will be a whole lot easier in the long run if we do the hard work now.


    • A Matter of Who

      Times and places
      Are all in who you share ’em with
      And it’s life, and the point is
      Enjoyin’ who you share it with
      Joy is who you share it with
      — Layup, Who You Share It With

      A friend texted a few loosely-aligned friends to ask if any of us would be interested in going to a Donald Trump appearance at a country club nearby. It’s known within this circle of friends that I’m the least likely to participate in something like this of the lot of us, but as a history buff there was still a small part of me that would consider it, just to see this character who has done so much to turn the world upside down. In the end I opted out for many more reasons than why I’d ever opt in. My vote cancelling out my friend’s a given, the friendship will survive the difference of opinion on who should be thought of as a leader, simply because we choose for it to survive.

      Whether we find happiness and purpose in any given place and time is often a matter of who we spend our time with. The people on the bus as we ride through life—our circle of friends, the people we work or go to school with, teammates—all determine just how much we enjoy the ride. We ought to get off the bus if it’s not particularly joyful to be on it, and find another one that brings us to the place we’d like to be.

      Thinking back on my friend, I remembered that some of the most joyful times I’ve had in the last twenty years were with him and some of the other characters on that text message. Doesn’t that count for something more than who we might vote for in an election? There are always matters of scarcity and abundance, ebb and flow, in our lives. The tragedy is when scarcity is a mindset, and we forget the abundance of reasons why we were drawn together in the first place.

      There’s a gap that develops with some friendships as we grow and experience different things in life. Without proximity and purpose, we drift away from most people at some level. Sometimes we drift back again, and sometimes we don’t. Things like politics and pandemics challenge friendships and we find that sometimes the relationship doesn’t pass the test. But sometimes we decide that the common ground offers far more joy than the gaps subtract.