A Happy Birthday update on Gareth Farr

To my surprise, it's about ten years since I last mentioned Gareth Farr, the NZ composer, on this blog. Very remiss. 
I happened to hear an interview (more like a friendly discussion) with him on the Concert programme today. Apparently he turned 50 recently - except that his birthday is on the 29th February, so he's strictly speaking only twelve and a half. He made the comment that in a couple of years (I think it was) he'll be thirteen. 'Gareth Farr the teenager!' he cried. 
Farr's relatively new Cello Concerto (from May 2017) was mentioned, and I was pleased - and surprised - to see a video of the piece's premiere performance online at the Publisher's website.  I'm listening to it as I write, and after its wonderful, slow, eerie opening - repeated three times - it moves into Farr's usual energetic approach, as well as more lyrical sections. And of course there's lots of percussion. 
Sébastien Hurtaud is the soloist. His facial expressions while playing remind of those of Stjepan Hauser, who's one half of 2Cellos. Hurtaud isn't quite so manic though...which is probably a good thing! 

Birthday update

I turned 70 yesterday (for some reason I invariably type 708 when I go to write that; not sure what that's saying about me). Facebook came to the party in a big way, by giving umpteen friends from all over the place the chance to wish me Happy Birthday. If FB provided no other service than the ability for dozens of people to give someone birthday greetings it would be  worthwhile. 

So a big thanks (again) to all those who wished me well. 

There were a number of unexpected highlights in the day, which hadn't been planned as being the day on which we celebrated most. (We're having a get-together of friends this coming Sunday, and had a family party last Sunday). Amongst the FB greetings a friend with a great sense of humour sent me the link to this wonderful You Tube video in which a bunch of classical composers provide variations on Happy Birthday. It's very well done. 

I share my birthday with three wider family members as well as at least three old friends. One of these we haven't been in touch with for some time because we'd lost contact. He didn't appear to be on FB, so I put a note on there asking if anyone knew where he was. Didn't get a response, but got home about eight last night to find a message on the phone: he'd decided to ring me to wish me happy birthday. It was completely unrelated to the FB message!

The ladies' singing group I conduct, The Choristers, had a concert at one of Dunedin's rest homes yesterday. We got ourselves all sorted out, ready to sing; I stood up and announced the first song, turned round and started to conduct, and they sang Happy Birthday instead. Took me quite some time to get my brain back into place.

My wife, daughter and grandson had booked to go and see the talk on the Aurora Australis at 5.30. This has been so popular that they'd had to shift the venue from the Museum to a long and large room in the Forsyth Barr stadium. It was the third time they'd presented it, and there was another session following at seven o'clock. When I say 'talk' it was actually several talks: half a dozen guys, including Ian Griffin @iangriffin  and Paul le Comte @five15design, enthusing about  the fact that we can see the Aurora Australis fairly regularly right on our Dunedin doorstep. Apparently we're in one of the peak times for seeing it at present: auroras depend on what the sun is doing, and there are peaks and troughs over several years. 

The photography of several auroras was outstandingly beautiful; you can only imagine what it must be like to be on the spot. And the 'spot' is only a few miles away in some cases. 

Anyway, after going to that (for free, too) my wife and I decided we'd eat out rather than going home to cook a meal, and after some sorting out as to where to go - there was an extraordinary number of cars parked in the city last night, so finding a park was difficult  - we finished up going out to South Dunedin, to the Adana Turkish restaurant. Lovely atmosphere, friendly service, and outstanding meal. It made a great ending to a great day. 

The Luddite reminisces about watches

My wife has always been very keen on wristwatches that do pretty much everything, so she tends to go for those that not only show your heart rate, the speed you're walking, the speed you should be walking, how far under water you can go, whether there's enough air to breathe and so on, but also - when they have the time to do it - tell the time.

These watches are great, but all I want to know when I look at my watch is what time it is. Yup, I know, really old-fashioned, but that's the way things are. I've had watches that would wake me up in the morning, or act as stop-watches, or tell me the time in another part of the world, but in the end I still only use them to tell me the time here where my body actually is. That's really all I need. An alarm clock is better for me that a watch that starts going pip pip pip in the morning, and when have I ever needed to time someone who's racing?  Never, that I can remember.

The first watch I had, which I was given for my 21st birthday, just rolled around second by second, day after day, and told me the time. It lasted until my daughter was 12 (around twenty years, in other words) and I only stopped using it because my wife kindly brought me home a new watch she'd purchased on her trip to England. I imagine, if I could find my first watch, that it would still be going happily.

That second watch was equally long-lived. I only stopped using it when I was back in England with my wife, in 2007, by which time it had long since got gunk in the works, and no one could fix it properly, or else the parts had long since ceased to be made. It still ran, but you couldn't adjust anything very easily. Since it was getting frustrating not being able to tell the time correctly (and I've never got used to checking my cellphone for the time) we bought a cheap watch at a stall in Norwich market. It's the one I'm still wearing, even though it's a pain at daylight saving time - the one where you have to put the clocks back - as it takes forever to shift back eleven hours (if that's what it is we do).  It's never had the happy relationship with me that my first two watches had, and perhaps it feels a little unloved. Anyway, it goes, and that's what watches are made for.

Paradoxical cat

Apparently it was Erwin Schrödinger's birthday yesterday, our time, and because the UK and US are still catching up, they're still celebrating it.  Google, in fact, has celebrated it by producing one of its doodles:

I'm not quite sure why there's a particular fuss about this one of Erwin's birthdays; it's only his 126th, not the sort of number you'd normally celebrate with or without the hundred.  Can anyone remember their 26th birthday celebrations?  I'm not going to ask if anyone can remember their 126th, because I don't expect that people of such an exalted age will still be playing on their computers at this time of night. Actually, according to our current records, no one has lived to the age of 126 as yet - to find people that old you have to go back to early Biblical times.  The oldest person on record in modern times was Jeanne Calment, of France, who lived to 122 years, 164 days, and her birth date was verified.  Jeanne was certainly close to celebrating her 126th birthday, you might say. 

Meanwhile back to Schrödinger, who's famous in popular science, as it were, mostly for his paradoxical cat - or the lack of his cat.  Don't ask me to explain, because quantum physics - in which the cat features to a certain extent - isn't one of my specialties.  The cat features even more in science fiction, I think, where some very clever stories have been woven around this fictional creature.  For some reason the cat has taken on a life of its own, becoming part of popular culture, and while its name is known the reason why it is important (or unimportant) is much less known.  That's a bit of a paradox in itself.

 

Special weekend

We have all of our grandchildren here at the moment, because my daughter and her family, who live in ChCh, are down for the weekend.   It's also the birthday of one of the my grandsons - he's nine tomorrow - so we had a party for him this afternoon.  We realised during it that it's the first time all of our grandchildren have actually been together (it's also the first time my daughter's man has been here for about six years).  On the last occasion when there was this big a collection of grandchildren, about three years ago, one of them hadn't been born.

So the house has been full all weekend, with aunts and uncles reacquainting themselves with various nephews and nieces, and with party food everywhere, until no one feels like eating anything anymore.  We had part of the birthday party at the Dunedin North Intermediate swimming pool - it was just our family and a few of my grandson's friends.  Not only don't we feel like eating any more, we're all wiped out from the swim, especially those of us who don't go in the pool very often.

So there's a lot of ongoing cleaning-up, as you can imagine; the fabric tablecloths don't get more than one use before they're in the wash, for instance.

But families are great.

Happy Birthday, George!

There's a delightful tribute to and interview with the singer George Beverley Shea on a website called Charisma News. I only discovered this because someone mentioned in a tweet that George was turning 103 on Wednesday (US time).

The piece doesn't give a great deal of information about George, but it does focus on his Christian upbringing, the way in which he wrote I'd rather have Jesus when he was only 23, and his time with Billy Graham.   What's delightful about the interview is George's sense of grace and his humility.   And his joy in life.

I used to hear his recordings when I was a child, on the request session on 4ZB, on a Sunday.  He would have been one of the most popular singers on the session, on which the same pieces often got played week after week.   The Robin's Return, and Remembrance, both played by Gil Dech, (who lived in my home town for a while) used to be immensely popular too, along with songs sung by Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters.

George had a long association with Billy Graham; the two names were almost inseparable at one time, and apparently they live in the same street in Montreat, North Carolina.

No birthday invitation?

Free software guru Richard Stallman has his knickers in a twist about the way in which 'ebooks are "technologies that could have empowered us [but] are used to chain us instead".

He cites Amazon's use of proprietory software and the way in which you have to register your name with them before you can buy an ebook. "...printed book buyers can walk into a bookstore and make a cash purchase anonymously, " he says. I'm not sure that most people have ever thought this was a big deal...the only kind of concern it might have brought is if the book you were buying was one that came in a brown paper wrapper, and I think that idea has long since vanished in the current society.

I find the long comment by someone called Deano (rather curiously, it appears twice) brings the whole down to a sensible level. This comment is well worth reading.

Stallman, by the look of his bio, has some good things to say about the sale of software and what have you, but in this instance I think, like many people who focus on the extreme, he's let his ideas carry him away somewhat.

By the way, all those who didn't get birthday invitations to my most recent birthday, don't worry. There'll be another one next year. And if there isn't, well you won't have to read any more entries on this blog. So there are two consolations for ya.

Superannuitant - nearly

This time next month I'll have been in paid employment (give or take a few short patches when I was out of work) for fifty years.

I've already got my form for applying for my superannuitant benefit - which my daughter tells me requires me to produce several original documents proving I am who I say I am. (There's not actually anyone else I'd really want to say I was, I don't think!).

I'm in the fortunate position of being able to continue working at least until the end of the year. And I guess, if there was work available, I might carry on longer.

I don't particularly feel like a 65-year-old. My grandfather died at this age - and looked like an old man - he'd probably worked much harder than I've ever had to. My father was dead by the time he was 63, and he'd not looked after himself in the last years, as far as I can make out. I guess there's still a month in which I could not make it to 65, and anyway it's no great achievement living longer than your forebears; I'm certain I haven't really had a hand in prolonging my life!

The general health of the population in New Zealand is such that 65 is almost getting to the point of not being seen as old, and those 'old' people around who are similar ages all look pretty good.

Well, God willing, I'll let you know when I celebrate my 65th birthday. Or, if there's a grand silence from this blog, you'll know I'll still be in God's hands, just celebrating in a different kind of way!

Sans Guacamole

It's my older son's birthday today, and he and his wife, his toddler, my middle daughter and her five-year old, my wife and I all went out for a meal together. And then went onto my son's house where we had some of his birthday cake. I won't be able to lose belly fat at this rate.
My younger son, meanwhile, is on a diet of rice, porridge and a few vegetables this week. It's being done by a number of people in the church to give them the opportunity to empathise with people round the world who are hungry all the time, and also to help them put some money aside to offer some aid to the poor. By what I see on Facebook, some of the others doing the 'fast' aren't enjoying it much!
I'm afraid I haven't taken the fast on myself; I know in advance I wouldn't make it. There was a time when I could fast - for the 48 Hour Famine, for instance - but these days it just doesn't happen, however good my intentions are. It probably needs a change of mind as well as diet, but....
For our meal we went to a place on the corner of Filleul St that was originally built as a pub (by someone we knew reasonably well at the time); it's been a variety of things since, and is currently a Mexican-style restaurant. The food was good, but oddly, when we got our meals, there was no guacamole on anything, even though it was listed with most things on the menu . (Guacamole, for those - like me - who don't know what it consists of, is made of squashed ripe avocados, tomatoes, onions and some other items.) When my son queried this with the waiter, he was told that they'd received hard avocados instead of soft ones, and so they hadn't been able to make guacamole.
A bit odd not to mention this to the customers, though! And then my daughter's dish arrived without sour cream, which was also listed on the menu. Again we had to chase up the waiter.
Full marks for the food we got; several demerits for being rather casual with information.

The superb photo, Sol del guacamole, is by Hale Popoki

Stravinsky conducting

Quite by accident I came across a video of a very venerable Stravinsky (whose birthday yesterday was honoured on Google by a specially-decorated version of their logo) conducting the last part of The Firebird. It's black and white, and he was apparently 82 when it was made.



'Conducting' might be a bit of a misnomer; there are times when he's barely moving anything more than his eyelids, and even in the big moments his conducting consists of a bit of arm-waving accompanied by a grin. Who cares. The orchestra obviously knows perfectly well what it's doing (as I suspect most decent orchestras do most of the time), and they just get on with the job.

It's about nine minutes long - though the last couple of minutes are all applause, and Stravinsky being rather more animated than he had been during the conducting, as he bows continually to the audience, and everyone else in sight.

Birthdays

As we begin the new year, and old friend of mine turns 60 today, and one of his sons turns 21. I tried to find a fun, celebratory e-card, but plainly the greatest inspiration in this field isn't delegated to 60th birthdays. The few cards I found were twaddle, and inappropriate. So by way of compensation, I sent him some suitable quotations that I found on a site. Most of them have something wise to say...including the one I wrote myself at the end.

A man of sixty has spent twenty years in bed and over three years in eating.
Arnold Bennett

May you live all the days of your life.
Jonathan Swift

Let us respect gray hairs, especially our own.
J. P. Sears

Pleas'd to look forward, pleas'd to look behind, and count each birthday with a grateful mind.
Alexander Pope

The spiritual eyesight improves as the physical eyesight declines.
Plato

Blessed is the person who is too busy to worry in the daytime and too sleepy to worry at night.
Author Unknown

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.
John Burroughs

A diamond cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials.
Chinese Proverb

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
Groucho Marx

May you find that turning sixty is no worse than turning thirty, no more difficult than turning forty, no more aging than turning fifty, and still ten years from turning seventy!

Birthday tribute

I spoke about my mother in the last post. I’ve no doubt mentioned that she died late last year, just before Christmas. So Christmas, in spite of lots of grandchildren, was fairly sombre at our house in 2006.
Today would have been her ninetieth birthday. Instead, some of the family went out to her grave and stood around and talked and arranged flowers – and froze: it’s been blowing a freezing gale all day. And we prayed and thanked God for her, because even though she was a quiet person, who didn’t like to be in the public eye, she was greatly beloved by our family.
There’s even been a bit of a joke about her ninetieth birthday. Last year, we’d talked with her about having a celebration for it, and she kept saying, “Well, I won’t be there.” She made sure of that!
Happy birthday, Mum. Hope you’re enjoying being in the presence of God and his endlessly delightful gardens, where no weeds grow, and nothing dies.

Blog Resurrection

I had a birthday yesterday. It's such a boring number that I won't even bother to tell you what it is, but suffice to say, I won't be looking forward to twice 31 again.
As a kind of celebration of the occasion, I've resurrected another blog, one that I started back in the early part of the century, and seem to have let go. Can't quite understand why it was neglected, but that's the way things are.
Anyway, it's going to focus on our imminent trip to the UK, and anything else that happens to relate to that. Expect the usual mix of random comments, paid posts, nonsense, and some stuff about travelling.
It goes by the exciting name of Mike Crowl's Travel Diary, because I was in a hurry to get it up and running again, and didn't have time to think of anything better, such as An Optimist Goes Abroad, or A Broad Optimist Goes, and so on.
I've sometimes wondered, apropos of that, whether I'm an optimistic pessimist, or a pessimistic optimist. Can't quite decide where the difference lies.