Monthly Archives: August 2019

Random musings

. . . that moment when you realize it’s your parents’ 60th wedding anniversary, and they only made it 38 years before Mom died, and you just start crying because you forgot the anniversary, and suddenly you miss her more than your father, and years of grief wash over you again . . . .

That was my Friday about 12.45 p.m.


I find it odd.  The optometrist can mail me my prescription, or fax it to me, both of which can be intercepted by others, but because of FERPA laws cannot email a PDF copy, even though that is likely the most secure way to send my scrip to me.


Thank you to students who helped move furniture on Friday as we got some new/used items for Thompson House!


All the best-laid plans of chefs and cooks go out the window during the first week of school.  Other people have been doing my cooking.


And speaking of the first week of school, we exceeded our expected music-major headcount.  Significantly exceeded. My expectations for slippage were inaccurate.  Rejoicing abounds!

Second-highest total number of music majors in two generations of students . . . .


The number of cars driving around Saint Louis with expired temporary tags — some expired for months — astounds me.


I may or may not be making a surprise visit somewhere south of Saint Louis today.


Tornado sirens and green-gray skies on a Friday afternoon make for an eerie end of the week.


love my new office configuration.  And my new desk chair.


And I love teaching voice lessons.  One new Webster student started Friday. The light bulbs popping on above his head were copious and a balm for a weary administrator’s eyes.  I still have my teaching chops.


Beware.  More new eyeglasses are on their way.

Open for business

With yesterday’s Department of Music Convocation, we are officially into the new school year.

I wish I didn’t have RBF all the time…..

Department of Music Convocation
Music Department Convocation — celebrating three of our five Presidential Scholars.

We feted the recipients of endowed music scholarships too:

#TBT: groups

As I was going through photos this summer, I discovered various photos that I had totally un-remembered.

Plaza Heights Baptist Church youth choir, 1986. I was leading the choir, and we were performing the musical “The Witness.”

This must be 1984, just after I started at Southwest Baptist. Two of these guys were suitemates of mine two years earlier. This was the Admissions recruiting staff at Southwest Baptist University. I’m at right.
Jacomo Chorale, ca. 1995. I’m in the white tie.

Oh my

This blog entry showed up on Facebook on Sunday, and I was blown away by a most loving description of one of the huge reasons I go to church.

I Go to Sing

Lindy Thompson says

but most of all,
it’s the collective in-breath before the first sound is made,
the collective drawing upon the grace of God,
the collective, if inadvertent, admission
that we are all human,
all fragile,
all in need of the sustaining air, freely dispensed,
all in need of each other to get the key right and not sound discordant –-

it’s the hidden life-celebration
in the act of making a joyful noise,
all together.

Read the whole thing.  Then read it again.

 

Indo Restaurant

I tried out a fairly new restaurant last week.  Indo is at the corner of McRee and Tower Grove, on the edge of the Botanical Heights neighborhood.  The cuisine is Asian and Asian fusion.

And it’s damn fine.

I started with the gyoza, which were simply perfect.  Eight of them should have made a meal; the plate clearly was meant for sharing.  I was solo, so I ate them all myself.

The plate was lovely, too!

I followed that with shrimp toast.  My lord . . . what a joy that was to savor.

At this point I was full, but I wanted to try to lychee ice cream.  Next time.

My drink was a variation on a gin & tonic.  The restaurant called it ‘a plastic chair in the rose garden.’

The chef is Nick Bognar, a semifinalist this year for the James Beard Rising Star Chef of the Year.

There WILL be a next time.