Measuring the notes in a life's song

“In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.”
Abraham Lincoln 

As musicians we read music by notions of key, tempo, time signature, volume etc., and units called measures. In rehearsal we’ll say, “Let’s begin at measure 30 and take it to the coda,” and we understand each other. When you hear a song performed or in a recording it began as notes fit into measures to create a song with a beginning and end. Playing through the rests or breaths between those notes is the key to becoming a musician people want to hear, lean forward to listen to and stay with an entire song. But like the Lincoln quote above says it’s the life “in” your years given that counts. This sober reality is so much on my heart as I sat with my friend, my partner and collaborator Wayne Crawford in a Houston, TX cancer center as the words left the Dr’s mouth that he has inoperable, stage four pancreatic cancer and would be lucky to live a certain number of months. How the hell do you respond to that?

Sitting with him in his first round of chemotherapy other day he asked what I was writing. I told him it was a blog tying the metaphor of the measures in music and a terminal prognosis—another measure. “Don’t worry I won’t mention you by name,” I said, wanting to respect his privacy always. He said, “No it’s okay. You can use say it’s me, the people in my life closest to me already know, so might as well.” Wayne is an amazingly creative, intelligent and generous person who taught high school and college for decades in Illinois and his students still write to him telling him what an influence he was in their life. One student is a Pulitzer Prize winning photo journalist; another is a major, gifted and successful Cellist and so many others who his time and passion made a mark on. He is, unarguably, a driving force in the writing and poetry community of Las Cruces, NM. He ran and organized successful open mics at Stonehaven, The Bean, The Rio Grande Theatre. Organized tens and tens of poetry readings, events, contests. Is on the Executive Board of the Dona Ana Arts Council, editor of Sin Fronteras Journal, creator and editor of the hugely successful Lunarosity online poetry and prose journal, runs a very important literary arts listserv, is well known throughout the state as an innovative and expressive poet with literally hundreds and hundreds of published pieces in some very prestigious journals. For me where his influence has been so important is the bridging of generations as far as poetry is concerned. He regularly would read at the NMSU Open Room readings amidst the hip-hop and slam spoken word always inviting the students to come to the open mics. At first they were reluctant, but he made them feel so welcome and supported and said, hell yeah you can use profanity, if it is important to the poem why the hell not? We have hosted student readings in our west Las Cruces homes and numerous receptions filled with laughter, drink and amazing food. Living with Wayne has been like living with a teenager though. He loves loves loves music of all genres and periods. He would BLAST his music and have concerts where he would sing along to printed out lyrics by Green Day, Blind Pilot, the Beatles (his favorite) and even Snoop Dog. I learned to take long walks by the Rio Grande when he is cleaning up being the very quiet person I am. Wayne was a music critic for the Chicago Tribune early on and the people he interviewed met and heard live just blows me away. That he loves my music meant something special. When I finally turned him on the iPod so began a new stage of experimental playlists…..

We have lived together for over eight years and have been together through some events like unexpected paralysis after a terrible neck surgery, a heart bypass and a stroke, and the terribly sad deaths of our two Greyhounds. I am a born caregiver if there ever was one with the patience even a saint would be jealous of. So today as I’m mopping the sweat of pain from him and feeding him applesauce I know no awards, nominations or recognition is as meaningful as the honor of caring, unconditionally for another being. I went through it with my Dad, my dogs and my ex’s Dad. I have had to cancel gigs, cut my expenses to nothing, live on sheer stubbornness and delay promoting my music—to the delight of my enemies. (Oh yes, I have them) That is okay. You know when you hear God’s Whispers and I always have. I’ll be back, with even more compassion, more depth, more feeling and music with so much feeling as to be living. Going through the terminal illness of a loved one especially makes you intolerable of bullshit—not that I needed any help in that area of course; so I ask if you are going to comment on this blog have the balls to do so publicly. I get so many emails from people who “privately” like my stuff on facebook, my blog, my music etc., but unless you support me publicly I delete them. Sorry but when you get 400 emails a day like I do you have to be picky. A friend asked me recently what I would do If had a terminal diagnosis; would I choose treatment or not? I said without skipping a beat that I would give my gear away and have a party. Having no health insurance or savings (as so so many working musicians and artists do) I wouldn’t really have a choice.

Wayne will, hopefully, be around for a while by the benefit of chemo and all the love and prayers he gets from people. He is in too much pain to read his emails most weeks but you can find him through his website: www.zianet.com/lunarosity Please don’t send messages to me because I am honestly more busy than can be imagined trying to make him comfortable and still keep my head above water financially.

This Monday I will play at the Mesilla Valley Hospice’s annual “Light of Our Lives.” It is when people who have had loved ones in Hospice the previous year pay a collective tribute with pictures, momentos and candles during a ceremony with words from many faiths and me on Native American flute. I first played at one of these about 7 years ago which led me to volunteer my music for 6 years before I got too busy on the road. Many of my friends have gone through Hospice so it is an honor to return the favor.

This is a video from my album The Roswell Incident a Hugely popular album. Wayne wrote this poem which I based the song around. We had such a blast recording both the song and the video. Wayne also co-wrote and read on the title song of my new album “Pura Vida”

Enjoy.

DANCING AT THE TOTEM

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Healing the musician.

There is no gig like a sit-down concert where the audience is attentive, with you and not distracted by the sounds from another stage, a festival P.A. system or crazy local radio remote blasting hip-hop a few yards away. Not that those aren’t fun and necessary but I find I rise to the occasion and feel the audience notices and appreciates it. Last Sunday I performed one of those types of concerts in a beautiful church with an enormous wooden, vaulted ceiling, incredible stained glass light pouring through, a nice stage and comfortable benches for the people there. I didn’t even need to use any effects like reverb because the sound was so luscious. The church was St. Paul’s United Methodist here in Las Cruces, NM where I live. They have had a wonderful and diverse afternoon concert series for many years with some very well known musicians come through. I have attended many myself.

As the audience came in I saw familiar faces, both friends and people who follow me. I was so grateful. I hadn’t slept more than an hour the night before having been under much stress. The person I live with is in Houston dealing with Cancer and I couldn’t be there to help due to work. So I drank a couple of pots of coffee and even ate a chocolate donut, something I never do, to try and wake up some. The music director had printed out a program of my songs and I was glad because I left my set list at home being as distracted as I was. As a musician you really can’t ever assume just because it is a local gig that people will show up. All sorts of things happen in lives and people forget. I played my best and was only focused on this moment. Between my first and seconds songs there began a low-frequency hum in the P.A. The sound guy tried to fix it and somehow, even when I wasn’t playing the main house speakers blew out. I know right? An acoustic, Native Flute and Hang player blows out the speakers—oh yeah I rock!

Trail of Tears- Painting by Robert Lindneux 

I kid, but it was a little unnerving and we relied on the choir loft speakers which were behind me. I did my best to speak loudly in my story telling and play a little more assertively. I soon regained my composure and focused. When the audience is with you feel responsible for the energy and pace of the music. Looking at the faces I knew they were engaged, even leaning in when I was talking. I was inspired and so happy to have this kind of audience. By the time I got to my Americana Medley of Wayfaring Stranger, Amazing Grace and Shenandoah I knew I had to reward them by digging deep. I told the story of how Amazing Grace became the unofficial song of the Cherokee because on the “Trail of Tears” or "Nunna daul Tsuny" repatriation by the U.S. military when a tribal member would die they weren’t allowed to stop and bury them. And many, many did die along the way. So the Cherokee would sing Amazing Grace, a song they learned from Missionaries, in their own language though as a way to mourn and pay respect.

As I transitioned from Wayfaring Stranger into Amazing Grace the Copper roof of the church started snapping and popping loudly. I looked out and no one made a motion. Many had their eyes closed and others were leaning forward. I played Oh Shenandoah on the flute and put it by my heart and sang three A Cappella verses of Across the Wide Missouri. I had my eyes closed but could hear whimpering and sniffling. When I looked out there wasn’t a person not wiping their eyes and pulling out Kleenex. There was a deep silence then an applause that lasted five minutes as I just bowed and mouthed “thank you.” It took me by surprise. I was much moved.

I finished my set and told them how when I travel I tell people about Las Cruces, our little community on the Rio Grande River and the level of artists, poets, writers and musicians who live here because we like our quality of life. After my last song the applause was so warm and everyone rose to their feet in ovation. I was again floored and probably looked like a deer in headlights, but stood there in gratitude. Afterwards I stayed forty minutes singing CD’s, listening to stories, networking, and answering questions. There were people there from North Carolina, Iowa, Canada and many other places who just happened to be in town and bought many CD’s to give out as gifts. I was exhausted but feeling really content that I worked, it worked that day. It reminded me to never underestimate and always respect the power of music to transcend, to move listeners and to sometimes even heal the musician. This Sunday is a return concert to the Hillsboro Community Center in the low hills of the Gila Wilderness. This is another sit-down concert and I am hoping to again bring my A Game and make people feel something good. Check my website calendar for details: RandyGranger.net

Here is the video treatment of Across the Wide Missouri or Oh Shenandoah. Enjoy

Till next time

Randy

Is it the music that heals?

I’ve read a few studies that suggest that there is a genetic component to compassion and empathy in humans. It develops in infanthood and is engrained to assure we won’t always go around killing each other without some feeling because, after all, that wouldn’t be good for the continuation of the species the studies suggest. As a musician I know without a doubt the power of music to heal, lift the spirits, and soothe the soul. Recently on a trip with a dear friend to MD Anderson hospital for some pretty serious tests I was reminded just how important music is to comfort and elevate the mood.

I drove my friend fifteen hours to Houston taking three days to do it because he was in such pain. It is so hard to see anyone in pain, much less someone you care about. For many years I have played my Native American flute in Hospice and hospital settings and was aware of the emotional impact it had. I couldn’t see the people I was playing for but the families and loved ones would find me as I was leaving and tell me how for just a moment their loved one was peaceful, breathed deeper and slower or smiled at a familiar tune. When my Greyhound Chipo passed over it was such a sad night as I held her in my lap while my flute music was on loop in the bathroom stereo. She would sit as I played and practiced and I knew this would comfort her. When my Greyhound Ancho passed over I held her in the cold Vet’s office petting and comforting her and asked them to play my CD as we eased her pain. I have men come to me at my shows in tears saying they have never cried at a concert before until hearing me. It is such an honor because I know how hidden people are about their emotions. Yes music heals, but not always the music you think.

So driving back from Houston my friend was feeling quite down having some hard to digest news. All the music I was playing just made me nervous. I have stopped listening to news period. It is too much gossip. So I said hey you brought your iPod plug it in. Soon sing-along tunes were blaring. See, this is what I mean by healing is personal, like musical taste. So many think only a certain type of music should be healing, but it really is whatever music makes someone feel good. If it is Guns and Roses, Opera, Pop, New Age it doesn’t matter. It isn’t for us as musicians to presume to know what will be comforting or healing. Just play the damn thing with all your heart and hope it touches someone. Once I was playing in Hospice and played Summertime, the Gershwin song on the Native Flute. It is also part of the Jazz standard collection of songs. When I was packing up a woman came out and told me thank you and that her husband was a saxophone player in the past and it was the first time in six months she had seen him smile. I felt lifted by a cloud of gratitude.

As I help my friend through his challenges, adjust my schedule, cancel gigs, worry very much about income I think about my life as a musician. Also I think about who is my support system and realize I don’t really have one. A friend visiting me in Houston said I have a lot I’m going through. I don’t think so. It isn’t me who is facing the challenge of serious illness, side effects, pain and laying out end of life decisions like so much paperwork. I’m just a trusting comfort who happens to have the time because I make music for a living. I’ve never needed a support system, or admitted I needed one. My family is wonderful but come with born again baggage, no offense of course; my listeners want me funny, happy and positive. My friends—well I just don’t know. So I retreat into my music balancing the path of making art and music that never stops flowing with the increasingly hard task of supporting myself. I suspect I will be doing my best to continue to comfort people and make them feel something through my music. That said I’ve learned that sometimes the most healing sound is the silence of your breath just being present.

Maybe listening to music is one of the things in life that doesn’t require a judgment. You know, you listen and it happens without you needing to react. It doesn’t care about your body language or facial expression or if your texting while it plays. It is comfort, like a friend. And to me, that is what a friend should be, someone who is willing to be with you, unconditionally. I only aspire to that.

This weekend I’ll be performing a rare solo concert in Las Cruces where I live. It is Sunday, October 10, at 2:00PM part of the “Afternoon Concert Series” at St. Paul’s Methodist Church, 225 W. Griggs Ave, Las Cruces, NM 88005. I look forward to this. This is something I’ve been pursuing for about 5 years and received an unexpected message out of the blue. What an honor considering the caliber of people who have performed there. Check my calendar for more info. Hope to see you there.

Here is a sing-along tune from my cd A Place Called Peace: