Spring Awakens, One May Hope

One of the really nice things about working in public radio is the opportunity it affords to work in person with some of the region's outstanding musicians and performers. I came in this morning in a foul mood, after scraping some white substance that shall remain nameless off my windows. Eventually I got over my mad, becoming lost instead in the pointless and mindless labor of preparing a web-streaming royalty report. But Joel dropped by after lunch, asking me to bring the digital camera down to the production studio to shoot some "interesting musicians." One Celtic harp is lovely; two together is sublime. Add in a weird little pentatonic Mongolian harp and some flute, a dash of pure soprano vocals. Yeah. Tune in Friday morning for a real treat during The Regional Hour as Todd Moe talks with (and shares the music of) Adirondack Harper Martha Gallagher, accompanied by Saranac Lake musician Susan Grimm. If you just can't make it tomorrow, look for the feature next week in the UpNorth Concert Hall. Gallagher's composition Spring Awakens will soothe your savage breast.

Planes have no names (for use in polite company)

Bi-coastal sophisticates refer to the Midwest as the "fly-over states," a quilt of fields and towns occasionally glimpsed through clouds. When I fly, I never feel like I've really gone anywhere--sort of like using the transporter on Star Trek, except rude, cramped, scary and smelly. But riding Amtrak's Lakeshore Limited and the Empire Builder out to Minneapolis last week, I knew I was on a journey. I watched every mile go by, and discussed it at leisure with my companions. High up in the big sightseeing lounge, one must concede that Wisconsin is, in fact, pretty good dairy country, and that Wisconsin Dells can almost hold its own against some Adirondack resorts. And if you must be laid over in Chicago, it is pleasant to be in walking distance of the Arts Institute and Symphony Place, the aquarium and the Fields Museum. There is a trolley driver who sings acapella; there is a modest and substantial slow-food diner with mouthy help--but not if you're stuck out at O'Hare. We considered staying aboard all the way to Seattle and skipping the conference. Who would know if we didn't tell? The journey IS the destination.

If It's Thursday, This Must Be Listening Post

It's nice to be home, briefly, although it was a shock to fly back into winter. Florida was strange. Orlando is sort of like cyberspace--nothing is quite real and you are never sure exactly where you are. And Miami Beach--where else can you find a Hummer stretch limo? But I've settled back into my routine, building web pages and considering in my spare time such timeless questions as "How would the world look if our eyes could only see the radio spectrum?" or "Why are there no meat-flavored carbonated beverages?" Tomorrow it's off again, this time a train trip to a Minnesota conference. So, next week's Listening Post will go out on Friday, when I return to wherever this is.