Dunbar: Heading Home

Reluctantly, I took my leave of Howard and Louise around 4;30 or so; if I had more energy I would have kept it up all night. But I had been up since 4AM, still needed to drive the 2 hours to Decatur, and it had began to rain. I left with a couple of souvenirs; a picture of dad's family taken in 1942 and Howard's autobiography of his WWII adventures and career as a biology teacher. Along with my Grandfather's Illinois Central Railroad watch that I got many years ago, I have a few things to hold on to from a vanishing generation.

Getting behind the wheel of a car again felt strange a bit, yet at the same time comforting. Mobility and freedom were mine again. Although I know now I have to play the game and have Dunbar licensed in Missouri to please the authorities bent on wringing every penny out of us they can.

Dunbar took me south on the somewhat familiar roads, past Peoria, down to Lincoln and then on to Decatur on the more familiar Route 121. It had become even more chilly from the steady fall rain and I had not brought a jacket it still being hung in my storage unit. Thus I infiltrated the blinding bright world of the Lincoln Wal-Mart, bustling at the dinner hour, to buy a cheap "Made in Indonesia" jacket for all of $10. Sadly, I think it is the only place on can buy a jacket in Lincoln, IL at that time of day.

My sister did not have to work Friday night, so immediately upon my arrival, I ordained a trip to "Los Matadores" in the once state of the art Fairview Plaza Shopping Center. What is now "Los Matadores" used to be part of the big Goldblatt's Department Store, closed many ages ago. Always good food, lots of it, good margaritas and sort of a tradition for me.

I stayed little in Decatur, needing to get back to KC, so I left Saturday AM after doing a few errands with my sister. The trip here was totally uneventful and Dunbar proved reliable and comfortable. HM Puggles was thrilled to see me home and enjoyed her first ride in her new limo on Sunday. She thinks it is fabulous, actually. She was out with me when I unloaded a bag of Purina from the trunk, purchased in Decatur when I found it on sale. She is convinced that her limo comes with food as standard equipment.

As I type this, I really wonder why I have taken the time. If you are reading, admit it, you really do not find this totally mundane story fascinating at all. I could be describing a trip to the gas station for all that matters. But it serves a purpose for me. Maybe someday, if all this gets preserved, a member of a future generation of the Clark family will find it and as it was with my Uncle's stories and a gold pocket watch, a bond of understanding will be forged between estranged generations.

Thus I go on.

Off to the Big Apple

New York City, the Big Apple... all you dear New Yorkers watch out, Pato is invading your world. Just for a few days, so relax.

A kind soul who reads my scribbles here at Puggingham Palace, generously and graciously gave me tickets to some of the Mahler In Sequence concerts at Carnegie hall. He could do all of them, I could not do all that he could not attend but I did manage to sneak some time to hear 3 of my favorite Mahler works, the mighty Symphony # 8, the valedictory Symphony # 9 and the Adagio to the unfinished 10th (sadly, they did not choose to do one of the complete versions....). Thrown in to the mix is the wonderful Das Lied von der Erde, a huge song-symphony that is pales a bit in my book to the symphonies but is an incredible work none the less. To hear Pierre Boulez conduct is a rare treat for me. Barenboim I have heard before, but not in Mahler.

I am about packed, not taking a lot. Got the bus and subway figured out. I am taking the bus/subway in but a cab back home, I do not want to get lost getting to the airport on the way home. Hopefully there will be a good hot dog or falafel stand near by. Since I am staying in a furnished apartment, I plan on getting some groceries and cook at the place. Love to eat at the finest..but not in this boy's budget.

It is just a thrill to get to hear some fine music, experience a part of one the most important music events of the past few years (Mahler Symphonies have not been done in this fashion since the 1960's in New York) and meet up with my friend Maestro Damon and Alice from PugVillage.

Pato needs to get things in order, oh GOD do I ever. So Adieu, bon voyage to me and stay tuned when I post the reviews starting Mon or Tues of next week.

Coupl'a Things X

1) They laughed at me. "You're taking your car to Illinois?? You are not renting one??? My you are brave."

Oh, how they underestimate the Queen Mary. She may look a little rough, after all in car years 21 is getting up there. But as a true survivor, she is really in pretty good mechanical shape. I got 24 mpg on the highway (at a lot less $ than last trip, I paid an average of $1.50/gal), used no oil to speak of, cruised comfortably in cushy velour and leather at 75 without breaking a sweat and brought back easily 1/3 of my storage unit in St Louis stuffed in the trunk and back seat. The load level system made sure I rode level, not scraping my butt on the driveway. The Pug lay serenely in her own towel draped seat (ever try to get pug hair off velour????), rarely disturbed by noise and kept comfy in the thermostatically controlled cabin.

Long Ride the Queen Mary!


2) Bringing back stuff from my storage unit made it seem like an early Christmas. Stuff I had not seen in years. Stuff I wondered why I kept. Stuff to cherish. I did find out why Mickey and his friends had been in my unit. I guess in my haste to pack, I kept a bag of rice, an open box of pancake mix and a bag of egg noodles. They enjoyed them, even if I didn't. I did not want to chance getting botulism or something from the 2 jars of pasta sauce I also found. They were use by 2004 so I thought it best to toss them.

Anyone want about 200 coffee mugs?

Packards Invade Richmond, MO

When I first met Levan Thurman, my friend Bruce's dad, I knew I had met a kindred spirit. I spied his car books on the shelf and soon heard that one of his favorite marques was Packard. "Thurman Funeral Home (his 3 generation family business) always used Packard service cars, limos, ambulances and coaches". He had pictures of a lot of them, remembered them all and even remembered going to Freeport, Il to pick up a new coach from the body maker Henney. I contacted my friend Steve who is president of the MidAmerica Packard club and said basically "you have to meet his fellow".

So about a year or so later...we did. The MidAmerica Packard Club's recent drive meet went to Richmond, MO to meet Levan and see his collection of Packard service car memorabilia. We spent the greater part of the day at Jeffrey Kyles' restaurant in Richmond, enjoying a big buffet lunch (a reasonable $7.50) and listening to Levan speak about his life of work with Packard autos. After the presentation, the Packards headed off to the Ray County museum for a tour and refreshments. Bruce and I headed home, content in the knowledge that we made Levan's day, entertained a great group of people and deserved a big ass cocktail when we got home.

Some Pics of "The Packards Invade Richmond"













Bob Aller's 1954 Long wheelbase Ambulance












Dr Tom Thomas' 1953 Mayfair and Jeff and Tina Pachl's 1955 Clipper Custom Constellation














Jack and Denise's 1940 Super 8 Seven Passenger Sedan















Levan in action














Photo of 1939, 1940 and 1941 Coaches owned by Thurman Funeral Home












Levan with a brand new 1948 Packard 8 Limo

Thanks to Levan, Jeffrey Kyle's Restaurant, Ray County Museum, Mid America Packards and to Bruce for a fun and educational Saturday.

Rehearsal at the Meyerson

The Morton H. Meyerson Symphony Center was opened in September of 1989 and has been hailed as one of the world foremost concert halls. "The Meyerson" as it is called is home for the Dallas Symphony Orchestra, Turtle Creek Chorale, the Dallas Wind Symphony, and the Greater Dallas Youth Orchestra. It was designed by the celebrated architect I. M. Pei, who has designed everything from airports to the new entrance to the Louvre in Paris.

According to its website, the Meyerson has:

• 260,000 square feet above ground space
• 225,000 square feet below ground space
• 30,000 square feet of Italian travertine marble
• 22,000 pieces of Indiana limestone
• 4,535 organ pipes
• 2,062 seats
• 918 square panels of African (Makore) cherrywood
• 216 square panels of American cherrywood
• 211 glass panels (no two alike) comprising the conoid windows
• 85 foot high ceiling in the concert hall
• 74 concrete reverberation chamber doors, each weighing as much as 2.5 tons
• 56 acoustical curtains
• 50 restrooms

As the stage was set up for John Tesch (to the roll of everyone’s eyes) we first had to meet in the choral rehearsal hall deep in the bowels of the building.

Dr Tim Seelig, for 20 years the TCC music director, is a hoot. Out, somewhat flamboyant and with a needle sharp wit (and evil eye), he is a master communicator. I learned so much from the 3 hours he spent with us in KC and the 3 hour Master Class he gave on Sat. "Sing 'tits up', he would exclaim, "that allows you to show off what a stud you are and also, and more important to me, allows you to support the column of air needed to support your note." Earthy, yes, brilliant, even more so. He demonstrated how we could make and support a cleaner, more even and on-pitch sound. The difference was amazing. Singing is all about how you breathe. Tits up, chin down, lets the air move and allows you to support it. If you were not in that position, you'd get that cutting evil eye. But always a smile lurking behind it.

We finally got to get in the main hall. A huge horseshoe shaped hall, stage not overly large and a nice choral terrace above. As John Tesch's junk was still on stage, we could not use the stage so we were part in the terrace part in the audience seats. Not the best situation, but what could you do, it was John Tesh for god's sake.

The sound of 300 men singing is breathtaking. I am prejudiced I know, but I would listen to a male choir all day rather than a female one. Men have a huge range of voices, and a thrilling sound. It sent chills up my spine.

Our main purpose was to sing "When We No Longer Touch: A Cycle of Songs for Survival". TCC commissioned the work in 1991 from their late composer-in-residence, Kristopher Jon Anthony, who died of AIDS in 1992.

The piece touches on grief, despair, regret, denial and anger, and also hope, acceptance and salvation. The mediations on the stages of grief are interwoven with the text of the Latin Requiem. One movement especially, "I Shall Miss Loving You," has become a staple of gay men's choruses around the world.

I was overwhelmed. The sound was exceptional, even with John Tesch's piano separating us. Seelig was so inspirational.

"Grab your nuts!", he yelled. We looked stunned. "Damnit, sing like you have them", he said of the Dies Irae movement, "I want the audience to piss their pants in fear. This is the day of wrath and death and calamity, not the "Dies Ehhhh", as he shook his hand in a whishy-washy gesture. We scared them for sure.

We got to go thru the piece, each of us did one piece of our set and then it was time for Texas BBQ.

The TCC set up a nice BBQ for all of us and we had a grand time. The TCC members were so friendly, so glad we were here and made sure we all were treated like royalty. A comedian performed a great routine to top the evening off.

M and I went to meet some friends of his at a nice piano bar. It was a nice quiet end to a strenuous day. Most of the HMC boys were out partying hard at the big noisy bars. I can't do that anymore. This was fine with me.

Tomorrow: The Final Chapter, When We No Longer Touch

Dallas We are Here!

10/6-10/7

Instead of a hotel, which were in short supply, Michael and I stayed with an old friend of his Pat Gordon. Miss Pat is a wonderful lady, 85 with a mind like a steel trap. Witty, intelligent, charming, she immediately stole my heart. The fact that she makes a fabulous dirty martini also added to the attraction. She lives in a sprawling ranch style house in NE Dallas, having moved to the house with her late husband Stewart in 1966. Stewart died a few years ago. A Scottish-Canadian, he was a wonderful man according to Michael. It was clear Pat still adored him and cherished every moment she had with him.

Pat had a career as a nurse, and functioned as a Director of Nurses at several hospitals in Dallas. She has had the opportunity to travel all over the world as well. Now retired of course, she has many friends and is active in bridge clubs and service organizations. Her man of the moment is Shadow, a 7 yr old mix of Pekinese and Lhasa and something else. As Pat described him, his mom was a streetwalker and daddy was a traveling man. She lives for him.

Upon settling in, M and I went down to Cedar Springs St and to a coffee cafe to meet and greet the other HMC members and the TCC members (HMC=Heartland Men's Chorus and TCC=Turtle Creek Chorale, I am tired of typing the names.) It was not a a real organized welcome and although billed to begin at 6PM, by 7Pm few were there. Slowly the KC boys filtered in and the party began. Not really, pretty low key affair actually. M and I had promised to take Pat out and so we left early and went to a nice place that Pat likes to dine at called Natalie's. I was tired anyway and my well known lack of social skills was evident, so a quiet dinner was fine with me.

I do say the TCC boys were wonderful in their welcome. They went out of their way to make sure we were welcomed, entertained and appreciated. I never failed to mention that we were honored to be there and thanked them for their invitation.

On Sat, I had to be at the Meyerson Symphony Hall at 1 so there was time to go booze shopping! Dallas has a larger population than KC thus more drinkers, even though parts of the city and surrounding counties dry. There is a strip of liquor stores in Addison TX, just north of Dallas that makes up for the lack of liquor stores elsewhere It is an alcoholic's paradise.

We found all the wonderful things I wanted and could not find in KC:

Glayva:

A spiced scotch somewhat like drambuie but with a touch of citrus. Glayva uses an Islay scotch rather than a highland or Skye scotch. A sweet, yet strong aparatif or night cap. Real hard to find and about $30 a bottle.

Amarula Cream:

A Bailey's-like sweet cream from the African marula fruit. Unique flavor somewhat like Bailey's but with the unique fruit aftertaste. Hard to find as well but about $20/bottle. Good info website: Amarula

Finlandia Mango Vodka:

Not as hard to find and about $20/bottle. Great ice cold straight up or as I first had it; chop open a fresh coconut and add a bit of the mango vodka to the fresh coconut milk and drink from hull.

And one I have loved for years:

Flor di Cana Centenario Rum:

The pride of Nicaragua. More like a brandy than a rum. Smooth as silk. DO NOT combine with Coke, that is why God created Bacardi. Best in a brandy snifter. 12 years old about $50/bottle if you can even find it. I get it for $10 in Nicaragua The glorious 18yr old Centenario Gold is not imported. But I get it for about $18 in Managua!

I had to be at the center soon and Michael wanted to pick up more Glayva so "The Mercedes" dropped me off ceremoniously in front of the Meyerson. He roared away...
"She likes to make sure everyone knows it goes fast", I remarked to the others waiting, "ummm hummm she does!" was the reply.

Tomorrow: The Meyerson and our first combined rehearsal!

OKC-Dallas: Caught in the Red Tide of OU/Texas Weekend

10/6

After successfully negotiating our way out of the OKC metro area, we continued relentlessly southward. Top still down, the day getting warmer. It was Friday afternoon now and those getting an early start on the weekend began to clog the roads. Many of the cars were flying flags and festooned with all sorts of University of Oklahoma logs and such. Red, assumedly the school colors, was everywhere; like the red tide of the sea. "It looks like the Okies are invading Texas", I remarked while passing a van flying several OU flags, everyone inside dressed in some sort of red. "Damn!" Michael exclaimed, "it must be OU/Texas weekend." I felt a chill in the warm open air... this must be serious.

Every year rival college football teams Oklahoma University and University of Texas play an important game at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas. The game has been held in Dallas since 1937 traditionally on the second Saturday of October. Dallas is somewhat neutral territory being between UT in Austin and OU in Norman. Without exception it has been a complete sell-out every year since 1945 thus tickets are not easy to get. The seats are split between the two schools, but with total seating of only about 75,000 in the Cotton Bowl, each school has only about 35,000 tickets available, some are held out for VIPs and such. Since both schools regularly have sell-outs (Texas seats about 80,000 and OU about 72,000) there is far more demand than available tickets.

That did not stop the Okies, it seemed the whole state was going.

The weekend is billed as the World's Largest Beer Bust. YEE HA! I hope no where near me. College rah rah-ism is so annoying. Get a life folks. But in this case, it is their life. Football is big business in both Texas and Oklahoma. The game brings in multi-millions for Dallas restaurants and hotels. It is also said the fans can damage that much if their team loses. I say play the game in an open field somewhere north of Denton.

Traffic slammed to a halt just north of Denton and Michael said a normal 20 minute drive was now over 1 1/2 hours. I was not amused. My butt hurt. "The Mercedes" has orthopedically designed seats. The orthopod was a sadist. If I had a Mercedes, the seats from the Queen Mary would be installed immediately. My butt never hurts after a long cushy ride in the QM.

Everything is big in Texas except this highway, which inexplicably had only two lanes and a shoulder wide enough for a truck or two. The new interchanges however are temples in the sky. They pile the lanes higher and higher to impress I suppose. Higher than a 5-10 story building, the lanes criss-cross over the highway below, I wonder if they have warning lights for aircraft?

We finally wheeled our way to our destination. Michael was using "The Mercedes'" GPS system and she talked us to Pat's house, even announcing that we had arrived. Arrived indeed. Pat was waiting with a dirty martini for us and I was relieved to exit and get on dry land. The fun was only beginning.

Tomorrow: Turtle Creek Chorale welcomes the Heartland Men's Chorus

Dallas Bound: KC to OKC

Friday October 6th dawned bright and warm, unseasonable. I was not complaining, as Michael and I were off to Dallas. We were travelling in "the Mercedes" as he always says, making sure everyone knows it is more than just a car. Being a convertible one, the weather was most appreciated.

The morning was also a bit strange. I had taken Puggles to the kennel..I mean the Royal Limo had taken her to the spa for the weekend; a nail job was in order. It seemed spooky without her around. I packed, checked thrice for "Tix, Tux and Black shoes" the three required items, anything else could be compromised.

We loaded up the Mercedes and off we went topless, the car that is. It was a bit cool for my taste but I enjoyed the open air as we quickly crossed in to Kansas and headed south on I-35.

I had taken that road many times, and it had not changed much. Soon we were to Emporia, the last civilization in the Flint Hills. Sparce, lonely and treeless, the Flint Hills are spectacular in their desolation. Undulating treeless hills, vast vistas, distant herds of cattle were the norm for many miles. We soon found ourselves passing by a lonely spot where in 1931, football legend Knute Rockne died in a plane crash; the wooden Fokker F10 Super Universal breaking up and hurtling to the ground in Chase County. Remenants of the plane are still there. There is no public monument, but I had a Chase Countian show me the spot a few years ago. You have to know where you are going.

Wichita zoomed by, we did not stop. Wichita had a contest years ago for a city song. The "Wichita Lineman" song was not about the city at all so it was not useful to them. Unfortunately, like Orange, nothing much rhymes with Wichita. Thus no song was selected. A couple unsuccessful entries leaked out such as:

"I Lost my Pa so I Went to Look for Him in Wichita"

and my personal favorite:

"Come on Down to Wichita, Where Folks Don't Bitch-At-Ah'"

Oklahoma soon appeared, looking little different than Kansas. Oklahoma City was the next civilization. I was last in OKC on May 3 1999. Also driving to Dallas with a colleague from Beverly, we stopped for gas in Moore, OK on the south side of town. I told Ron then that the clouds looked like a storm was brewing. 45 minutes later the station and most of Moore was obliterated by an F5 tornado. I did not want a repeat and we safely passed. The spot was marked by a new shopping development.

The weather was fine, the top still down and I had not killed Michael. So far so good!

Tomorrow: OKC to Dallas: The Okies Invade

The Time of My Life: Dallas Here I Come

Gentle Readers, Greetings! I arrived back from the weekend in Dallas and am still recovering. I had a fabulous time in many ways. The concert was an incredible experience, I am glad I went and spent the time learning the material. The Myerson Symphony Center is a wonderful venue.

I learned a ton from the Turtle Creek Chorale's director, Tim Seelig. He is highly dynamic, communicative and inpirational, far from what we have here. I'll tell more about his rehearsals and direction. I am still amazed.

This was like being invited to play at Carnegie Hall. Dallas' Turtle Creek Chorale is the premiere Gay Men's chorus in the world. Sorry Seattle and San Fransisco, there is no better. Emmy award documentary, Billboard Classical CD top ten seller, Grammy award nominations... they are fabulous. And welcoming and friendly. They thanked us for coming, we thanked them greatly for letting us come. I was greeted far better than anyone in my own chorus, we have a lot to learn.

I wish I could have taken my fair readers with me. You would have loved it.

Note to that I have been messing with the blog!

Road Trip

I am off for Dallas until Monday. The Heartland Men's Chorus is combining with the Turtle Creek Chorale in Dallas for a special one time concert on Sunday. Michael and I are driving to Dallas and staying with a friend of his. Pat is 85 and sounds like a hoot. Sat is rehearsals, master class with Dr Seelig and a party. Sunday I am going to tour Dallas and then the call for the theatre is 5PM. Monday drive home!

Links for the concert:

Turtle Creek Chorale

Heartland Men's Chorus


Pato will have all sorts of stories to tell when he waddles home!

See ya!