tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464315899021168180.post3862688965411339492..comments2017-10-05T07:45:07.807-06:00Comments on Gallimaufry: She's Playing Me Like a Violin.wychykibwphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09518134502819450464noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464315899021168180.post-76844635941919914622007-06-06T14:59:00.000-06:002007-06-06T14:59:00.000-06:00Something funny happens when you're friends with f...Something funny happens when you're friends with fame (notice the careful alliteration in that sentence). Remember Andrea Greenway? Our times in Couch Opera? Did you hear how last week as she's waitressing tables in Vancouver her boss has her sing in the restaurant where David Foster (the record producer mogul) is eating. Did you hear how he asked her how quickly she could be on a plane? Did you hear how he's flown her to Calgary, Toronto, L.A. and Malibu in the last week to sing and record demos. Anyways... it seems that as soon as you become someone famous everyone wants in. When I first joined up with facebook Andrea was one of my first contacts, and so after this "opportunity" happened to her I checked up on her. I was surprised by the sheer amount of friend requests she's had in the past few days. "Hey, I heard what happened.. remember me?" la dee da... kinda tragic, I think. I enjoy this couch opera that you've got going on... can't wait to see how it plays out.Justus Smithhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02641860622963692946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464315899021168180.post-89030346346603609692007-06-04T23:31:00.000-06:002007-06-04T23:31:00.000-06:00I forgot the original blog post. Her is the exce...I forgot the original blog post. Her is the excerpt:<BR/> In my head I can already play it all out. It'll start with the fan letter that I'll write her. (It would be easier if I had seen her play last night) In it I will invite her out for coffee. She is, of course, always surrounded by fawning admirers and and demanding managers and conductors. I will provide a breath of fresh air for somebody living a life of stress and demands. <BR/> Over coffee I will be friendly, funny and charming, she will be sophisticated, alluring and exotic. I will provide a window of normality and calm, she will provide a breath of excitment.<BR/> We will enjoy several days of bliss as we experience infatuation and attraction of a hollywood romance level. Then her busy schedule will beckon and she will be off on a road trip to New York, London and then Tokyo. I will be back to work installing doors, casing and baseboard. She will be my foil, awing audiences with the beauty of her sublime playing. The most perceptive critics will wonder where the new found passion in her playing came from. Every memeber of the audience will tangibly feel the love and pain of seperation singing from her violin.<BR/> We will both rack up exhorbitant long distance phone bills, with me short on sleep from spending hours on the phone in the early morning hours to make up for the time differences. She will relate her feelings on bearing the weight of heavy expectations and I will comort her with jokes. Perhaps I will quote "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning" to her. I will surprise her with a visit to one of her concerts in Paris. It will be awkward though, both wondering how long this can last.<BR/> Perhaps it will start when I, in exhaustion, will nod off while on the phone with her. Perhaps there will be a handsome celloist with perfect pitch who can better understand her life. In any case a slow decline will occur. Her life and mine will be too different; we both know how the script ends before we arrive there.<BR/> I will lose Karen to the demands of the road. However, one day many years from now she will be long since retired. Then she will look back on her career, remembering the standing ovations in Carnegie Hall, the glamour of exposing her soul through music with the best musicians in the world. She will then remember the only person who treated her as a person instead of a commodity. The only man who gave more than he asked for. She will remember this and wonder if she made the right decision.<BR/> Then she will pick up her Stradavarius and play a tune so mournfully that the angels themselves will fly down and incline their ears to the tune. The tears they shed will fall as drips of rain and in that moment the world will stop and all hearts will beat with the same rhythm, and all hands will drop their weapons, unclench their fists, and join hands and cry for the terrible beauty and tragedy of love.wychykibwphttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01492776556090336774noreply@blogger.com