Almost a month, or, Pound that wall, you filthy... (plus some upcoming events)

It appears that I have an aversion to noise. Perhaps not all noise, but repetitive noise. Recall the slamming of the doors.

My office is fairly fantastic. It has huge windows overlooking a smaller quad. I painted the walls a cool dual blend of taupe and crimson. I enjoy working from this large room on the third floor of O'Kelly Hall, but there are some downfalls. The office is at the juncture of O'Kelly Hall and Ireland Hall, and used to be a dissection laboratory. The upswing of this is that we have central air. Gotta keep the bodies cold.

As it stands, Ireland Hall is going under major renovations, and has been for almost two years. Therefor, our days are blessed with pounding, hammering and concrete drilling. Often so loud that it is difficult to have conversations. Often so forceful that items have vibrated off my desk.

I try to remain positive about these things, and smile, though most of the muscles your face uses to smile were already working to reign in my migraine headache. We have taken to working from home or our conference room, where these noises do not seem to reach.

A month has gone by, and craziness has ensued. Off the cuff, I was sick. Much of my diatribe is taken from an e-mail to a friend in the midst of that, but it serves this purpose too.

One of the benefits of being a vegetarian is, in fact, the lack of illnesses that bog me down. However, it hit me hard. When it comes to illnesses, I am the biggest baby in the world. I spent a full Thursday and Friday in scrubs, on the couch, under as much faux down as I could muster, with every herbal remedy known to man, tons of medicinal remedies, and enough carrot juice to pacify Bugs Bunny. I will someday perform a one man show about the tragedy I've overcome. While I felt better on Saturday, I suffered through three more days before I was 100%. I still have a cough and it has been over a week. Feel sorry for me.

First, let me address the down. As mentioned before, I live in a pretty kick ass apartment. However, as I sit typing this, I can feel wind. I don’t know if it is coming through the brick, the ceiling, the gaping hole in one of our walls from shoddy construction, or just a bitter figment of my imagination, but it is present and obnoxious. “The draft”, as it is often coined, is the cause of our $200 energy bill the past two months. (Have you ever noticed how adding “the” before something hateful or irritating makes it seem less? My sister and I use it to describe my mom’s cancer. “Ever since you’ve recovered from “the cancer”…” We get a chuckle out of that, because the “the” makes it seem like a hangnail. It’s our passive-aggressive way of coping, I suppose. I got it from my friend Mishka who told me about the time he thought he had “The Herpes,” which I think is a reference to Jerry Blank’s “I got’s me “The Syphilis” real bad” in the episode where we learn “Chlamydia is not just a flower.” What? I don’t know...)

I was unimpressed over the energy bills, and revealed said feelings to our managers, as did most of the apartment, and they are working to rectify the situation, but time, apparently, is not on my side. It has been almost a month. Still, "the draft" is ever present. Ever taunting.

Thus, I can blame "the draft" (James sleeps in scrubs, covered in wind pants, and a hooded sweatshirt under three blankets – I am better, my room is about 8 degrees warmer) for my cold.

This blistering breeze killed four of our fish in three days. Secretly, I am not all that worked up about this since we were beginning to look like sea world. But, James takes his fish very seriously, and it really affected him.

I was, of course, near death… hovering just a pica above complete flat line (in reality, I probably had a mild cold), but, determined to play my part in the tragedy of the fish, got up. I mustered a shower, and even shaved. Clothed in the warmest garments I could conjure up, we headed to Petco. It was there I met Lucinda.

We went to Petco because we are exploring the possibility of adding amphibian or reptilian life to our humble abode. I don’t know why I think I want a lizard, but the desire is there. I blame a James Bond movie, where a lizard had a rather larger role, and a rather large diamond neckband. Perhaps it was the bling. Perhaps it was the fact that I am naturally drawn to the exotic. Most likely it was the distracting power of all things shiny.

Upon entering, we ventured to the “adopt a pet” section of the store. In the midst of a variety of filthy ferrets and other vermin who needed homes was Lucinda. Lucinda was a rat. Well, she in fact remains to be a rat and a live one at that (much to my dismay). I apparently was too ill (I love the blame game) to notice the huge “CAUTION: LUCINDA BITES” sign. As I got to close, her very slim, Secret of NIHM snout shot through the cage. Teeth. Sank directly into my index finger.

Needless to say, I bled. I don’t like bleeding either. I laugh as I write this, because it is such a character study of my own inadequacies, but I revel in them. I most certainly wasn't going to let the Petco folk know that I can't read, so washing the wound at Petco is out of the question.

Of course, the nearest place for Band-Aids and a good washing is Wal-Mart.

I may hate Wal-Mart more than Lucinda. However, I suffer through.

Though we are in the midst of the holiday season, and classes have begin the holiday break, there is much to do in Grand Forks.

Let me start with the Greater Grand Forks Symphony. I went to "Messiah" this past weekend and was blown away. Completely. I thought the Symphony, the Master Chorale and the area schools that participated did an unbelievable job.

I have been a "Messiah" fan since probably the sixth grade. My small community's Christian religions banded together and performed this oratorio (look it up if you don't know it - you know the rules, there will be a test) when I was probably in the 6th grade. As my mother played the piano for it, I attended the rehearsals. It is interesting to me that my perception of a person changes the moment I can hear them sing (though this goes for any artistic expression).

I'll take for instance Colleen Dawn. It wasn't that I didn't like Colleen growing up, because I did. She was a young, wonderful woman. She was the wife of the Salem Reformed Pastor and lived just down the street from me. However, she was my piano teacher. With that daunting responsibility comes angst. I disliked piano. I think, because my mother was so ridiculously talented at it, I had a bit of an inferiority complex. Thus, I didn't respect Colleen for her talents, mostly because I had never heard her play the piano, nor perform any kind of music (had I gone to her church, this would probably have been different) so, my cocky attitude was "what does she know?"

This attitude problem wasn't limited to Colleen. You could ask my other piano teachers: Lois, Marcie, and Mrs. Flatland. They would all concur, and probably say something like "lots of talent, no commitment to rehearsal." They would be right.

So, back to Colleen. In the first part of "Messiah" (number 16) is a soprano recitative: And suddenly there was with the angel which is the third of a series of soprano solos. It was when I first heard Colleen sing this that my respect for her flourished. She was a goddess in my eyes, and her voice was the ambrosia of heaven.

Well, consequently, I have been a long standing fan of "Messiah" and it was such a pleasure to see it performed with so many familiar faces, and an even larger pleasure to hear the soprano recitatives performed by local coloratura soprano Dr. Anne Christopherson. Anne, who completely rocked the stage, was also Nellie Lovett in this past summer's Crimson production of Sweeney Todd, so I have had the distinct privilege to work with her.

Rumor has it, she may be gracing the stage again this upcoming summer as Mademoiselle Cunégonde in the Operetta "Candide." This is just a rumor though... well, at least at this point. If true, however, it means Anne will be wowing the audiences with the fiendishly difficult aria "Glitter and be Gay." In sheer vocal/technical terms, it is among the most ridiculously challenging coloratura soprano arias. If sung as written throughout (alternative phrases are provided at several points in the score), there are four high E-flats (above high C), two staccato and two sustained.

I've heard her sing it. She has absolutely no difficulty. She is ridiculous.

In any case, the competitive one-acts at East Grand Forks have begun - this year we are doing an insane "epic theatre" one-act on nationalism. It's tough as all get out, but I think the kids will pull it off nicely. Speaking of high school - I also got to experience the Christmas Schooner at Central High School this past week. The Christmas Schooner is a musical written by John Reeger with music and lyrics by Julie Shannon which premiered at Bailiwick Repertory Theater in Chicago, and has run successfully for 12 years. The coolest part of this production was the lyricist Julie Shannon came to Grand Forks to see the show, meet the students, do a talk-back with director Job Christenson and sign some CDs. It was a very cool experience.


Since this post is already 2 miles long, I'll close by giving a heads up to some cool and upcoming events. Right now, Brad Bachmeier has work at the Third Street Galley in an exhibit called Embers. I own a couple Bachmeier's and am excited to purchase my third piece of his work. I am big fan - Brad was the Art Fest Featured Artist two summers ago.

Steve Augustin along with Jinae Swenson and Nicole Schempp are on display at the Dakota Harvest Gallery (in the bakery) until the 6th of January.

Currently on display at the North Dakota Museum of Art is "Moment by Moment: Meditations by the Hand".

However, if music is your "reason for the season" Central High School's holiday concert is the 21st, and there is a Phil Vassar concert at the Alerus Center on the 30th.

Of course, there is always ongoing live music at Suite 49, the Blue Moose Bar and Grill, and Sanders 1907, where "Still Fighting It" will be playing the 29th and 30th.

If you haven't driven through, Christmas in the Park goes until the 31st and is only $5/car.

Of course, New Year's Eve is marked in Grand Forks by the First Night Celebration. First Night Greater Grand Forks is a family-oriented, alcohol-free New Year's Eve celebration that showcases visual and performing arts and cultural activities for people of all ages! First Night showcases a variety of regional talent, both well known and obscure. Performances are held in venues throughout downtown Grand Forks and East Grand Forks. Shuttle buses run continuously to all sites throughout the evening. With the purchase of an admission button, a wide variety of entertainment can be enjoyed all evening ending with a dazzling display of fireworks marking the beginning of the First Night of the New Year. You can visit the First Night CulturePulse page here, or visit their official website.

Also, make note. According to CulturePulse, the following restaurants will be serving food Christmas Day: Blue Moose (open bar @ 7 PM with appetizers only); Great American Grill @ Hilton Garden Inn (7 AM to 12 PM); Peatree Restaurant @ Holiday Inn (hours TBD); Royal Fork (hours TBD). For more information, visit Christmas Dinner.

With that, I'm done. Complete. I'm Tired. I'm not a wabbit! I need some west! ...

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse