very long ramblings

It is a nice sunny Sunday morning out there right now, and the Weather Channel is predicting isolated thunderstorms for this afternoon, which seems fantastical, somehow, in this part of the world. We have perhaps two thunderstorms a year. But they do occur. A few years ago, a young woman was struck by lightening while she was sitting inside, near a window, sewing during a storm. The needle acted like a lightening rod. She came through it fine, I think, but a bit shaken. Electrified.

Today is the final concert of the season for my choir. We are performing this show just once, instead of the usual twice, because we are performing at Benaroya Hall (where the Seattle Symphony resides) and it is incredibly expensive. We have not sold enough tickets. It used to be that the leaders of the choir talked about ticket sales in helpful ways at many of the rehearsals, giving creative selling ideas and making it seem romantic to sell tickets. Nowadays, the membership president just says, "sell tickets." She does talk about its importance, but she is not inspiring. And the people who used to stand up and inspire sales no longer do so. And Fred is slow at producing the email annoucement of the concert that many of us depend on for sending to our friends and coworkers. And so we sell fewer tickets. Perhaps choir leadership thinks that we should have it all under control by now, but the evidence points to the contrary. For one thing, there are new members that have not experienced the ticket-selling focus of the past. For another, and perhaps more important, people tend to think that everything is dandy unless someone tells them that it is not. If the leadership does not talk with us constructively about ticket sales, then we will assume that ticket sales are no longer important and so will relax our efforts. Thanks to Jen for pointing that out.

This is the last year for this particular membership president (as membership president - she will still be singing with us), and I am glad (sounds nastier than I mean, I think). She has worked hard at a thankless and unpaid job, and has made some good changes. But she is not an inspiring or warm person. The previous president (call her AP) is a very intelligent, warm, kind-hearted, poetical, inspiring person. She helpfully talked about working on music at home and selling tickets and proper concert behavior, and she always had a poem to read to us before concerts, which helped us focus on the beauty that we were about to create for our audiences. AP was president for a long time, and got tired of it. Now she is happily just a regular singer, retired from her paying job, and doing quilting for people for money. Not a bad life. The current president (call her K) is also an intelligent woman, and she shows moments of warm-heartedness. Her mind is lively and she has done some good and necessary things for the choir, and she is also tired of serving as president. But she is not, by nature, a friendly person, I think. She is a clique-ish person. And she is not poetical, though she does try to give us inspiration at focus circle before concerts. But she reminds us of proper concert behavior by saying, in an annoyed manner, the same words over and over again. "All page turns are too loud," she says as one quoting an aphorism. Yes, they are, but when you say it like that, people automatically stop caring. AP would talk about ways of turning pages quietly and the importance of doing so. K just blurts out in a stentorious voice, "All page turns are too loud." Not helpful. I guess I shouldn't complain too much about K's unfortunate comparison with AP unless I am willing to step up as the next membership president, which I am not. K has done some things much better than AP, things that make the choir run more smoothly behind the scenes. But I miss AP's warmness, and her understanding that she was working with people, not computers. AP was a teacher and mother (still is a mother). K is a computer programmer. Maybe the differences are not so surprising.

I woke up this morning from a very uncomfortable dream about today's concert. I was still at home on the island when I was supposed to be at the concert hall. I couldn't find my makeup, music, car keys, or other important items, and my body was rebelling in annoying ways as usual in dreams. I had about 5 minutes to get to the ferry if I wanted to get to the concert hall before the concert began. Mom, Dad, and Jenny were all here, being kind of helpful in ineffectual ways. I was crying and all upset because I was completely blowing it. And I had cramps, which didn't help. I finally woke up, and still had cramps, and I got up and found my makeup, and I am going to get every ready to go after I finish this. Talk about a stress dream. It was hot in my room. Too darn hot.