Howdy, folks. November 16, 2007
I pen this journal entry from the lobby of a fancy-pants hotel in San Jose,
California, where I am staying at taxpayer expense while attending the American Orff
Schulwerk Association National Conference. Today is day two, and I've learned so
much I feel like my brain might well explode. The nice Hispanic lady who cleans my
room would really hate that.
For those of you who don't know, Orff Schulwerk is a philosophy of music
education that is respected world-wide, with roots in lots and lots of different music
traditions. I won't go into what it is here; suffice it to say it is good stuff and
everyone knows it. Even teachers who don't use it speak of it in reverent tones.
I now have it on the good authority of four--count 'em, FOUR--different
internationally recognized experts in Orff Schulwerk that a C tin whistle would be
every bit as beneficial in music education as a recorder. Perhaps even more so. I plan
on asking a few others tomorrow, but I already know what they're going to tell me.
So, it's official: The tin whistle is a legitimate instrument of music education. Of
course we all knew that, but doesn't it feel good to be validated by the experts?
So, I got up early and went for a long walk along the creek this morning. Stumbled
across a nifty little strip of park and walkway. I walked along looking for a
semi-quiet place to play a few tunes and get myself feeling human after all this big
city craziness.
It seems San Jose has several "sister cities." I read all about the Peach Boy, that fruity
Japanese kid who saved his hometown from ogres (you learn something everyday).
But a bit farther up stream, I came across a little shrine to Dublin, Ireland. Just a little
wood bench tucked back in the trees. About as nifty a little spot to play a tin whistle
as I've ever come across in a big city. I sat there for well over an hour, and played
pretty near every tune I know, and a few people smiled as they passed, but no one
bugged me or stared at me or otherwise made me feel like it was anything other than
perfectly normal for my music to be there.
I guess this sister city idea is a pretty good one.
Besides noodling on my whistles and cramming my head full of state- of-the-art
music pedagogy, I am practically wallowing in fresh seafood, trying to stay sane
amid big city noise and bustle, and making a few new friends. During a folk dance
session this morning, a group of rather opinionated teachers started taking things a
bit too seriously, arguing about how it should be done. The discussion was starting
to get just slightly heated when a nearby colleague piped up: "Suppose we built this
large, wooden badger?" Another replied, "What I wouldn't give for a holocaust
cloak!" That's when I knew I had found my people, and I was a lonely traveler no
longer.
That's way more than enough for tonight. My brain is full and I desperately need to
take that zippy elevator up to the nineteenth floor and become unconscious.
Thanks for stopping by.
Tom