Mistofelees and Me

Mister Mistofelees.  It's probably one of the most memorable songs / scenes from the musical "Cats."  My kids and I were looking up Broadway songs on YouTube when we came across this clip from the show. 

They watched the entire song (I only posted part 1 below) I began to get tears in my eyes, so I had to walk away from the computer.  It wasn't that the song itself is so moving and emotional, it wasn't that Mistofelees shoots lightning from his fingertips (cool as that is, both on video and in person), it wasn't even the twinkling LED Christmas lights on stage (far ahead of their time).

I got lump in my throat because it brought back a memory.

About 20(ish) years I took my sister to New York to see "Cats" on Broadway.  She had never seen a Broadway show and she always wanted to see "Cats."  So I took her and Mom to see the show.  It was a great day.  We ate at Beefsteak Charlie's and took a cab to F.A.O. Schwartz to play the big floor piano. 

Sadly, that was happier time, twenty-ish years ago when we were all still friends.  Our world is a different place, and the relationships that were present on that trip are different as well.  I long for that time and those warm kinships.  But sadly it isn't easy to repair a tie so damaged over time.

That said, I get misty over things that others do not understand.  For my own reasons.  That's the way it is, and that's how it's gonna be.

Been a While

Hey!  I know it's been a while since I posted on my blog, but really truly have a good reason for ignoring it.

You see, I have another blog that is more of a ministry than just a place to spout off about whatever bugs me.  It's a blog that helps husbands and wives improve their marriages.  It's Bible-based and has gained quite a bit of popularity in the past few months.  Therefore, it's probably helping someone, therefore I gave it a lot of attention to foster more growth and reach more people.

Anyway, I'm not giving up TenorboyJournal.  I'm planning to post regularly again real soon.  I'm not sure what form this blog will take, but one thing is certain.  I can't be stopped from speaking my mind.

Don't say I didn't warn you. 

A Soup To Remember

Let's talk about soup.  Why?  Because I like soup.  Okay?  

OKAY?!!?

If you know me, then you know that I'm a bit of a foodie, and slightly fanatical about homemade food.  It's cheap, it's tasty, and it's good for you.  No preservatives or fillers, no unnecessary processing, and always made with love.

I usually stick to the plan of making everything from scratch, with a few exceptions (the occasional potato chip, ice cream - you know what I'm talking about).  Last night, however, I was shopping with my son at Price Chopper when we happened upon the lady doles out the free samples. 

"What will you be treating us to this evening?" I asked.

"Fish soup," she replied.

"I don't usually like fish soup."

"Neither do I, but this one is different."

"What is it?"

"North Atlantic Haddock Chowder."

Both the boy and I tried the soup in teeny weeny plastic cups with teeny weeny plastic spoons.  He had oyster crackers in his.  Mine was "au naturale."  

It was the best soup I've had in a long, long time.

As many times as I've passed the hot soups in the deli section, I never bothered to give them a second glance.  "They aren't homemade," I thought.  "They're probably no better than condensed canned soups," I thought. 

I think quite differently now.  When I went to the deli department to buy some chowder for my wife, I reaad the ingredient list and found nothing that would alarm me. NOTHING.  No preservatives, no additives, nothing that sends up the usual red flag of food. 

Fish stock

Light cream

Haddock

Potatoes

Onions

Celery

Butter

Wheat flour

Sea salt

Garlic

Pepper sauce (distilled vinegar, red pepper, salt)

That was it.  It was creamy and flavorful with just the right amount of texture.  It wasn't too watery or too thick.  The fish was flaky and tender with chunks that weren't too big.  

A very good soup.  Made by Price Chopper.  Who knew?

 

Car Trouble? Or Is It Just Old Age?

I was running a little late for work this morning, so I parked in the visitor parking lot.  If you know me, then you know how uneasy and self-conscious I felt leaving my car and walking into the building, dashing up the stairs, and making it to the band room just in time to enter with my students.

It isn't that I parked there for the wrong reasons.  I was going to move it to the staff parking lot right after band rehearsal. 


But then, old age kicked in, and I forgot.

The ole' Subaru sat there all day.  In the visitor parking lot.  Feeling awkward, I'm sure, with all the parents' cars staring at it, giggling at the out of place hunk of metal. 

Sadly, because I forgot it was there, I walked all the way across the bridge to my usual space in the staff parking lot and found ..... nothing.

Big DUH moment.

Next time I park in the visitor parking lot, WILL SOMEONE PLEASE REMIND ME??!!??



Thank you.  End of rant.

On This Crystal Winter Morning

Photo courtesy of Mrs. Tenorboy

He says to the snow, "Fall on the earth," and to the rain shower, "Be a mighty downpour."  
(Job 37:6)

We woke up this morning to a spectacular snow. 

No, it wasn't the kind of snow that covers everything in a foot-deep blanket of white.  Rather, it was a light, fluffy, shimmering snow in which each perfectly formed snowflake is seen with the naked eye.

A crystal snow.

Each delicate flake sparkling with its own stunning brilliance.

God is Good.

Will you be my friend? Ummm ... No.

Will you be my friend?

No.

That's not the answer most people want or expect, but many time it is the answer they receive from me, especially on social media sites.

You might say it isn't very nice to say no to a friend request, especially from someone I know.  However, let's put this issue into perspective, shall we?

First, I used to be quite well-known in a former life (before we moved to the middle-of-nowhere Catskills).  That said, there are still people who think I'm their pal, when in reality I have no idea who they are.  I have to be careful of that.

Secondly, I'm a teacher.  Students who know me are prone to want to be facebook friends, etc.  I must be extremely careful to stay on my side of the line.

Thirdly, if things get back to me at work that are twisted misinterpretations of something that happened on facebook, it is a bad thing.  Very bad.   The vacuum cleaner will come out and it will suck up entire groups from my friend list in a hurry.  Believe me, it has happened before, and it isn't fun for anyone.

Finally, I don't want to be inundated with a bazillion useless status updates every day.  I want to enjoy my time on facebook without constantly clicking delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete .....

So,

Here are the guidelines for being "friends" with Tenorboy.

1. I have to actually know you.  This might seem like a no-brainer, but you'd be surprised how many friends of friends I get who want to be my friend, just because both of us know so-and-so.
2. I have to have some friendly connection to you.  I know a lot of people.  Some are friendly to me, some are not.  If you are not, don't bother trying to be my social media friend.  It ain't gonna happen.
3. If I work with you, I most likely will befriend you IF you pass a simple but strict screening process.  The process?  I check all of your friends and their friends to make sure none of the office "moles" are present (you know who they are).  If you come out clean, we can be friends.
4. Students are accepted after they turn 18 and graduate, IF they meet all the other friendship requirements.  
5. Friend requests from family members are accepted.       

This might seem like overkill, or like I'm being paranoid or weird.  But let me point out that everyone (that's right, EVERYONE) has a similar set of criteria for facebook friendship.  I wrote mine down here on this blog.  You didn't.  That is the only difference. 

So, if you didn't get accepted as my friend, please do not take it personally.  Just understand that you may be too young, or too distant, or you had a history of mistreating me, or I simply don't remember you. 

That's just the way it has to be.

What the _________?!!?

There are few things that aggravate me more than hearing children say "what the ______."  They leave the blank in because their friends leave it blank.  Everybody does it.  There isn't any harm as long as they don't actually say the last word out loud.  Besides, it's cute when a kid cusses.

Right?? 

Wrong.

The omission of the "h" word or the "f" word does not mean the word isn't there.  Everyone who hears someone say "What the _____" knows full well the expletives that fill in the blank. 

Spoken out loud or not, a cuss is a cuss.

Why do we accept this from children?