Music & Love: Create? Manipulate? Participate?

Oh Brother Andy, what have you done? I told everybody I wouldn’t make a habit of talking about this stuff, but it seems the floodgates are open now.

What is the origin of Love?

Music Explains Love (I think)
My senior year in college, I decided to take “Introduction to Music” as an elective. Now those of you who know my background and how much I love music might find that odd…it was supposed to be a cakewalk class. Much to the contrary, I found myself digging into many deeper meanings of music and life because of this class. The most difficult internal debate I engaged was this: What is the origin of Music?

I’ve been making music since when my mom caught me whistling Axel F on the toilet when I was three. I’m a classically trained upright bassist, play guitar, a few other instruments and sing as well. I played in orchestra, band, jazz band, wind ensemble, marching band and a few of my own bands. Forgive what seems like boasting. I only put these cards on the table to illustrate how odd it is that I’d never thought to inquire as to the origins of something that has been such a huge part of my life and still is. To confuse this even more, I had also just begun to write my own music.

Can I actually “create” Music?
Can I actually “manipulate” Music? Or,
Do I merely get to “participate” in Music?

I’ll spare you the ping pong deliberations of my brain, and the semantics I fought through with a machete. Suffice it to say it wasn’t exactly cut & dry, but I’ll just skip to the point.

I concluded that we merely get to participate in Music. All the songs I’ve written just sort of came out. I often listen to the melodies that I’ve “composed” and wonder where they possibly could have come from.

I liken music-writing to this: The mood strikes me, and all of a sudden I’m walking into a melody store, the front of which looks a lot like the record store from “High Fidelity.” It looks tiny from the outside, but is vast, perhaps endless on the inside. Somehow, my feet know exactly where to go…a section meant just for me. I spend some time checking out different melodies until I come across one that actually makes my soul sing back. (It’s kind of like when you find the pitch that resonates perfectly in a big, tiled bathroom). My soul makes the decision for me and I take it to the cashier who’s an amiable guy w/ dreadlocks & a soul patch. He just smiles at me and says, “It’s on the house as usual, brother – see you next time!”

I’ve compared this to the involuntary vomiting of a song…though you may also remember that I don’t really believe in involuntary vomiting. 8)

What I have then is a musical representation (like a musical photograph) of just a little piece of my soul…what a precious gift. How could I ever take credit for that?

Back to Love
Is Love not the same way?

Participate: Love is a gift beyond logical explanation. It’s a supernatural phenomenon that’s out there for us to discover, experience, and ultimately enjoy – a precious gift that FAR exceeds even our wildest imagination.

Create: As the Bonnie Raitt song says, “I can’t make you love me, if you don’t.” (written by Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin). We can’t create love. We can come up with any recipe that we want, but it’ll never be able to take the place of the perfection that is love. Why on earth would we turn our noses at a free and perfect gift in search of manufacturing it on our own “filthy rag” version? We are silly, stubborn creatures, aren’t we?

Manipulate: I’ve alluded to the dangers of manipulation before. Manipulate Love? Talk about trying to harness the power of the Sun with your bare hands…its simply asinine. You can, however, manipulate people. I must say I feel badly for those whose relationships are built on some sort of manipulation. Both sides end up drowning in insecurity wondering all the while what is true and what isn’t.

Playing With Fire
Manipulating a person actually twists them into somebody they’re not. When you manipulate someone, it’s like taking Van Gogh’s “Starry Night,” removing the texture and making it into a black and white postcard. They become like the animals in Narnia who can’t talk anymore. You’ve taken a flute and made it sound like banging a spoon on a table. They’ve been assimilated to your myopic imagination and confined to a cage. Gosh, it’s beginning to look like slavery. Congratulations, you are now dating, or worse, married to the walking dead…and YOU killed them. What an atrocity. I’m thinking bad words about you in my head right now, malicious manipulator. I wish I could say my hands were clean of this. They’re not. If I’d had any idea of what I was really doing at the time…quite sadly our stepping-stones come at others’ expense sometimes…it’s part of what makes us NEVER want to screw it up again.

Isn’t it so much better to let the other’s light shine? Let them be who they are. Let their song ring loud & true. The worst that can happen is that their song doesn’t prove harmonious with yours. I imagine when it actually does, the whole orchestra and chorus joins in behind you.

Those who find Love on Love’s schedule don’t have to rely on disillusionment. Experiencing Love on Loves terms is an exciting adventure through uncharted territories. There is so much amazing and colorful scenery along the way that you can’t ever fully take it in. Manufacturing “love” and manipulating it is just another trip through the quagmires, trapped in the confines of our own mind. As with all things, life is too short to spend it bound by our own skepticism and our limited capacities. I’d much rather be surprised by the endless possibilities God’s world has in store for us.

I think I might dig into why we attempt to manipulate tomorrow.

The "Perfect Seven" (significant others)

Coffee with the Maverick
I had my weekly coffee tonight with my good buddy Andy Merrick at Fido here in Nashville. I would have made him meet me @ Créma, but they're not open that late yet. It's come to my attention that many of you have probably been reading Andy's series called "Why Guys Aren't Asking You Out."

I don't really do a lot of blog reading...mostly because I don't spend my days bored out of my skull in front of my computer anymore, looking for anything to keep me awake for when my supervisor actually looks at me. I'm usually too tired to enjoy blogs at the end of the day, and I rather prefer talking to people over reading. Andy's blog is one I actually try to follow, but I don't always read it for two reasons:

1. Andy handles more in most blogs than my attention span will usually allow me to ingest.
   
2. I spend Tuesday nights mentally sparring with this good fellow...which is WAY better than actually having to read something. 8)

That being said, I simply had to hear what all the hubbub was about, so I just finished reading the first four parts of Andy's series in one shot. I am now quite tired and am desperately longing for simplicity.

I haven't been on a date in well over a year, and I haven't been "dating somebody" in over two, and this is probably why. Seriously, how much harder could we POSSIBLY make this? Andy's working on at least a 5, maybe 7, maybe more, -part series on this with the thoroughness that only a computer programmer w/ creative tendencies could maintain. But, I guarantee you he won't cover it all.

I very much would like to get back on the dating horse, but if I try & concern myself with all that stuff, there is NO WAY I'll ever get back on. So rather, here's what I'm going to try & focus on (the sequence is intentional):

1. How would you like to go out some time?
2. I like you. Do you like me?
   
3. Analysis: Do we think this is working?
4. Conclusion:

• If yes: Good let's keep this up and get married someday.
• If no: Well, I'm really glad we tried. I guess this means there's a smarter match for both of us out there.

Should it not be so simple?!?

The Perfect Seven
I mentioned the other day that I try to see the beauty in everybody. I don't know if this is right, but this is the habit my brain is in right now: I see us all as "Perfect Seven's." Yes, you heard me right. Like in any judgment, we are scored in different categories. In this particular trial, the average of our score leaves us ALL with a "Perfect Seven." For example:

• Outward Appearance - 6
• Sense of Humor - 8
• Bo Staff Skills - 7
• etc...
  

Nobody is actually higher on the scale than anybody else, we all have our own "Criteria DNA" that when averaged out has the exact same value as that of everyone else. Andy might need to find a girl who is more intelligent than funny, whereas the opposite might work better for myself. Granted, all of my examples are GROSS oversimplifications, but do you see my point? (Besides, I can't complain about complexity and conjure a complicated conclusion).

This is what it means when we say, "I don't need to find the 'perfect boy/girl.' I need to find the 'perfect boy/girl' for me." The former simply does not exist, but I'm pretty sure sure the latter exists for the majority of us.

A key has teeth. A lock has a series of pins that rise & fall when a key is inserted. When the teeth properly match the formation of the pins inside the lock, something amazing happens. The key can turn and the lock opens. This analogy actually plays into my "reciprocation" role that I mentioned the other day...look to see more about that later.

Selling Love?!?
I was a sales rep for almost 3 years of my life and sold a variety of music to retail stores. I was pretty good at that job, but one thing I was never able to do was sell a Rap album by treating it as a Southern Gospel album. If we're a Rap album (& I'm pretty sure I am), why would we try & market ourselves for a tour with Bill & Gloria Gaither & Friends?

Like selling anything, we find our niche, and we ALL have at least one, and we work to exploit the niche. We can't all be the prettiest girl, or the hottest dude. It may be the quickest way to get immediate attention, but the lasting attention we're looking for comes from being confident in knowing who you are, and knowing who you are not. (please forgive my adaptive plagiarism)

"To know that we know what we know, and that we do not know what we do not know, that is true knowledge."
-Confucius

We short-change ourselves by trusting so much on outward appearance. It can so easily hide more subtle and far more substantive things like: a good sense of humor, a kind heart, impressive dreams, witty banter, etc. THESE ARE ATTRACTIVE QUALITIES!!! And they're good, safe places to invest your confidence.

I'm sure I'll have some comments on Andy's blog if he can ever find a stopping point. That's certainly not a cut on Andy...it's a cut on our dating culture - and knowing just how thorough Andy thinks, I hope he doesn't drive himself batty trying to figure it all out. Ladies - you owe him one. Generally speaking (which is Andy's approach if I'm not mistaken) he's just about spot on. I love that guy...and I think I'm going to start Sub-titling like he does. Thanks buddy.

Bratter-Scained...

Blah - that is my word for today. I couldn't seem to find any cohesive sort of focus today, so I don't see why I need to try and find one right now...here comes a disjointed entry.

Tack 1: This morning I had to stop by Home Depot to grab some shims so I could level a toilet. Upon entering, I saw that my friend/acquaintance, Blair, was working in the paint department. I was about to say hello when this happened:

A guy was about 15 feet in front of me and detoured into the paint section towards Blair. It looked like he was going to ask for some assistance, so I decided not to say hello just yet and started moving towards Roger & Steven in the "millwork" department to get my shims. Before passing out of view, for some reason, I decided to watch this guy...maybe I had an idea of what he was going to do. Instead of talking to Blair, he walked right behind her, "checked her out," and walked out of the section. I chuckled to myself a little bit as I went to find my shims. I mean, Blair's a pretty girl, and members of the opposite sex are supposed to be attracted to each other...it's in our nature. This dude was just so crassly uncouth it was totally amusing.

After my trip to millwork for my shims, I swung back by the paint department to recount the story to Blair, and we had a laugh over it. I realized after the fact (as my less-than-quick wit usually does) that it would have been pretty funny to shout "Hey Blair!" just as that dude was checking her out, but that's the kind of thing that bar fights are started over.

Tack 2: Today, 2 things happened/are happening in my kitchen that have NEVER happened in this kitchen in the 80-90 years my house has been standing. I used my new garbage disposal and am washing dishes in a dishwasher for the first time in Castle Stoner history.

I installed both of these on New Years Eve before I went out to ring in the new year with my friends. I actually didn't finish until about 10 pm on NYE, but it was totally worth the wait. Despite my catch-all kitchen table that is covered with items that only barely made into the house via the back door, my laundry hanging from curtain rods and other various make-shift "hooks", and my shop-vac which is currently the kitchen centerpiece, it's starting to feel like a functional kitchen. Exciting!

Tack 3: I wear flip-flops a lot. I've had my current pair for a few years now. They're the kind w/ the foam bottom and the rubber thong. I've worn these on the beach, around the house, to play frisbee, to church, to the grocery store, in Scotland, to soccer and flag football games...really, to most of the places I've been in the last few years. On Sunday, however, tragedy struck. The right thong on my right flip-flop, which has been clinging by a thread for at least a year now, finally broke.

My dilemma is this - it's very difficult to find a new pair of flip-flops in January, so I've been limping around in this pair for the last few days. I say limping because unless I drag my foot, the flip-flip will just start turning clockwise anywhere from 90-180 degrees. As you can imagine, this makes walking slightly cumbersome. Never fear though...my good buddy Hunter who works in a fantastic store called REI (you might have heard of it) tells me they've got some flip flops for sale. At least I know where to go when I finally get frustrated enough with these that I recognize my need for a new pair.

Phew - I hope my thought process is a little more controlled tomorrow.