Dr. N.A.N.’s Blog
News, views, and how the world skews from Lincoln, NebraskaArchive for my passions
Spaghettification and other buckyball-like discoveries
My stalwart road manager having a moment...
When I submitted my application for the Layman Fund Grant, I included in my project description a list of benefits that could come of “Piano-in-Tow”. This list included blogging, media coverage and the possibility of an interview with a stray dog. Well, I didn’t meet any stray dogs during the tour but I did meet some wonderful folk that I would like to mention. The first person is Heath.
Heath and Penny hawking “Piano-in-Tow” memorabilia
He was the muscle behind Dietz’s Music House piano moving services. A little background–Heath is a musician by trade who loves cats, physics, books and is currently building a car in his living room. Heath provided a great deal of comic relief throughout the tour including teaching us about spaghettification. Who would have thunk?
Then there was Paul H. and his wife Lori and their children–they were the main organizers of my presentations in both Petersburg and Albion and all of them contributed to a very well-organized event. I will not forget their hospitality nor their enthusiastic commitment to the arts!
And then there is Janet R.
Janet and me
who has been studying with me for over 10 years, driving the 100+ miles from Albion to Lincoln once-a-month. She met us at Boone Central Middle School in Petersburg (12 miles north of Albion) to attend “PiT” and introduced me to the students. Her introduction included little-known facts about me such as my love for cats, cycling and reading! Janet’s words meant a great deal to me.
This is what it's all about.
Last but not least there were the kids. Wow!
Students at Columbus Middle School
So many of them enthusiastic about the piano, the music and me. Two questions they asked at every stop (and sometimes more than once at each stop!) were–”How many hours a day do you practice?” And, the ubiquitous question, “How old are you?” I narrowly skirted this last one…
More students at Columbus Middle School
Finally back home where the follow-up details never seem to end. And, then of course, there is the spring “Piano-in-Tow” tour to start planning. Sigh.
One of my best moments...
Deborah Reinhardt, 1951-2007
Maybe there really is something to the adage “only the good die young.” I just learned about the recent death in a car accident of one of the founding members of The Cat House here in Lincoln, Nebraska. Deborah Reinhardt was one of the key movers in TCH when it was first started back in 1999. She eventually moved to Chico, California to join the music education faculty at Chico State University but her contributions continue to be felt to this day.
Not only did I know her through The Cat House, I also had the pleasure of working alongside her at the University of Nebraska. Deb was an extraordinarily talented and intelligent person. She was an expert in the Dalcroze method of music instructions, as well as a beautiful needleworker, vocalist, pianist, gardener, baker and lover of kitties.
No task was ever too big or too difficult for Deb. She could lay carpet, strip furniture, roof a house and guide a classroom full of students. She was even a winner on Jeopardy! many years ago. I was in awe of her intelligence.
Deb Reinhardt will be sadly missed by The Cat House community. Her needlework still hangs here in Lincoln, and her contribution of ideas and enthusiasm to our organization will never be forgotten.
Deb’s death is the third loss to The Cat House of wonderful volunteers who died too young. Evette McPherson and Linda Vavrus were two other very committed members of our organization who passed away too soon. This kind of tragedy always inspires a renewal of my dedication to TCH. If you haven’t already, please visit our website: www.thecathouse.org. It is truly an amazing group dedicated to the welfare of cats and kittens!
Driving in Neutral
A former beau used to chide me for driving on “fumes”. For me, it was all about getting the maximum number of miles out of one tank of gas—you have to realize that in the early ‘80s, I was driving a 1976 (or so) four-door, light blue Peugeot 504 that looked pretty rugged. It had a steering wheel on it the size of one of those exercise balls people roll around on. This was obviously before power steering. It was a four-on-the-floor with well over 85,000 miles behind it.
I actually learned about gas conservation back in the seventies when my father would drive me around town in our vintage 1970 Mercedes 280SE (yes, he still has the care and it still runs!)
At the time, we were living in Colorado Springs, in a neighborhood located on the side of a mountain. Thus, a good outing for him was to put the car in neutral after backing out of the driveway and letting the car coast down our street, slight pause at the stop sign and then left and down for several more blocks. He was especially pleased if he could make it out of our neighborhood and onto a major thoroughfare without ever putting the car in gear.
This driving strategy has stuck with me. If you drive with me in the city, you will notice that I have multiple sections of any route planned so that I may take advantage of the hills. I have it worked out so that I can throw the car into neutral and coast for at least several blocks on any given drive. I’m especially proud of my route home from the east or northeast side of town. Once I hit the top of 25th st., I pop the car in neutral and let her coast down to my alley. If the planets are aligned, I can turn right into the alley without stopping and continue coasting up to my garage door. I know that I should buy a lottery ticket when I can have the garage door open just in time to pull the car in. I don’t think anyone should have to pay more than $.60/gallon for gas…
An odd life
This will be short because I have to go to bed and get up early tomorrow. Something I loathe especially when it is dark outside and just 19 degrees above zero. But, I do it because I love my part-time job at All Feline Hospital.
You might ask: What am I, a musician with limited experience outside of academia, doing working for a vet’s office? I’m not sure. I do know that I was a client long before I became an employee at AFH and never really considered working or even volunteering there because of the regular heartbreak. After certain events in my life, I needed to bring in more cash. So, I asked my friend/owner/veterinarian Dr. Rebecca Arnold if she needed any help in her feline-only clinic. She was very kind to offer me a part-time job doing whatever.
Since starting work there, I have learned how to work the front desk, the back desk, answer the phones, hassle people for money, send them to collections if necessary and a whole host of other interesting things. I learned quickly that I could also satiate some of my lifelong fascination with medicine, only on smaller creatures. This job has helped me develop my speaking skills, my interpersonal relationships, my ability to “count a drawer” and many other things. It has also allowed me to witness first class veterinary care up close and personal. What will I do if I ever move away? How will I find a good doctor for my furry children? The other part of this situation is that I really like ALL my co-workers. Each one of them brings something unique to their job and even in the worst of times, can make me laugh or forget my troubles. I know I will never replace this kind of working environment. So, everytime I go into work I am in a good mood. Can you imagine actually liking your job?
More Songs About Buildings and Food
PARIS — Today, I was able to spend some “me” time along the rue Saint Louis en l’Isle. This street is part of one of the islands in the Seine, sort of in the middle of the city. I came to know this street (and the island) when my family and I used to rent an apartment here. To me, this street has some of the most amazing shops in Paris. The best ice cream and sorbet can be found at Berthillon, whose primary location is on the island. Even in the middle of winter, you will find a line that circles around the block–people patiently waiting to buy some of their amazing confections. (Perhaps akin to the line outside of Target when Wiis became available.)
A little further down, there is a tea room called La Charlotte de l’Isle. The owner is a chocolate artist of the first order. When you walk in, you are greeted by the rich smell of dark chocolate. She makes all kinds of figurines, cakes, cookies, and other structures from chocolate. Occasionally, she’ll add in candied fruit or almonds. The reason for my visit today was to pick-up a pièce monter for a party. I learned that pièce monter means something that is built in stages. So, the creation was tall, with each “floor” made from almond cookie dough rolled thin, baked and then molded to form half cylinders. The occasional section was dipped in chocolate. (If I were faced with a “last meal”, a pièce monter would be my request!) Besides ordering a piece of pièce, we frequently will stop in for chocolat chaud. This hot chocolate is NOT made from Nestlés powder — instead, our hostess melts chunks of chocolate with cream or half and half, and then serves it with a side of water.Also along this street is my favorite jewelry store. Thelma isn’t a store where you would go to buy a diamond, but a lot of the jewelry is handmade with crystals and other semi-previous stones. Without fail, I visit the shop once per trip to Paris and inevitably I buy something.If you keep walking down the street, it opens up into a bridge that connects the two islands. Cross the bridge and you are at the back of Notre Dame. Today, the tour line was too long so I just stood outside and took some pictures. I did go into another church (much smaller and less ornate) along the same street to light a candle. Similar to visiting Thelma, I always try to visit one church to light a candle. Thought it’s gotten to be such an expensive habit that I no longer light a candle for everyone on my prayer list– one has to suffice.Art on Everything
PARIS – Today we took a long walk in search of a particular patisserie that was recommended to us on Rue Monge. The day was picture-perfect. While crossing the Pont Sully, the backside of Notre Dame was visible, there were house boats on the river, pigeons everywhere, bicyclists (seems like everyone rides them now) and zillions of scooters. (Scooters have become a mild interest of mine because I have friends who both have Vespas.)
The bakery was about 2 miles from our apartment, and since we hit it early afternoon, it was teeming with people. Some of their specialties include small rolls stuffed with bacon and smothered in parmesan cheese. They also offer a number of “escargot” pastries (snail-shaped) featuring chocolate or cinnamon. I was finally able to feast upon a sandwich au camenbert–yum. On our way home, we stopped at another bakery whose store window practically demanded we come in–the number of unique pastries and tartes and cakes were overwhelming.
And each one of them was a work of art in miniature. How do they make this stuff? My mother and I “discussed” various cooking techniques but couldn’t agree!
I ended up with a “chunk” of almond cake, a chocolate macaroon (for those of you who still think the traditional macaroon has coconut, think again) and some other heavenly confection exploding with more chocolate.
I really shouldn’t be eating with such abandon. I will pay for every calorie when I get home!
We also stopped at an Italian deli where we picked up some gnocchi stuffed with truffles, a mushroom (cepes) salad and a salad of fava beans, parsley and olive oil. (Anybody have any chianti?)
When will this gorging end? I can’t seem to stop and I am here for 8 more days. It’s as if I have been programmed to try everything within my grasp. And if it isn’t within my grasp, I just move a little closer….
Packing, Eating & Appreciating Art
I hate to pack. So much so that I always wait until the last minute and than inevitably leave something at home. (Ask me later about a passport incident in 2006).
I think the reason I don’t like to pack is because it means I’m leaving the comforts of my little hovel. New bed, new shower, no kitties, waiting in line, smokers, limited email access–lots of things that can undo somebody without a lot of fortitude.
I will admit that I was looking forward to going to Paris. My father is French and therefore has lots of relatives in France. My family and I go at least once a year to visit my relatives, many of whom are distant cousins….
Actually, very few distinct Narboni families exist. There might be 3 worldwide. So, even my extended family is very important to us all. We’re also here to celebrate my parents’ 45th wedding anniversary. You can bet on a party filled with champagne and lots of good food!
I have several traditions that I must carry out every time I come to France. Visit specific monuments, eat specific food and walk the streets. I must go to Notre Dame, in part to light candles for all of the creatures I love; visit the Basicilica of Sacre Coeur for the view: eat a sandwich au brie ou gruyere and a crepe avec nutella, and do a lot of window shopping.
Several years ago, someone came to UNL to lecture about art and the contemporary world. His message was that we should all strive to include art in everything we do. I guess that means everything from the way we set the table to the way we address an envelope or play and teach the piano. I think the French, in particular the Parisians, exemplify the “Art in Everything” concept. I have yet to see an ugly shop window. If I buy something, it is always beautifully wrapped (even a sandwich or une baguette comes in some lovely paper twisted with an attractive knot!)
I firmly believe that art keeps us from going over the savage precipice. I realize that this is NOT an original thought but I recognize the truth of this statement. Sometimes I struggle with my career choice only because I’m not sure if I’m making a difference in this world. Would I not have had a bigger impact on the human race if I had gone to medical school? Perhaps. But, I can’t imagine doing anything besides playing the piano. Oh sure, lots of hobbies and passions but nothing touches my core like music.
My First Competition
When I was 14, my piano teacher encouraged me to enter a local piano competition. First Prize was a performance with the community orchestra. None of us (family members included) thought I had a snowball-in-San-Antonio’s chance of winning, given that the age limit for the competition was 25 – and I was all of 15. So, given the college-age competitors, I decided to work up the first movement of Beethoven’s Second Piano Concerto. By the time the day of the competition rolled around, I was nervous…but determined to play well regardless.
After my performance, I went outside with a friend to blow off steam while the jury made their deliberations. We got caught up in looking at storefront decorations (remember those?) so we lost track of time. Next thing I know, my father is walking briskly in my direction. I steeled myself to get chastized for for disappearing! But all he said was “Contestant #3 won.”
I thought for a second, “Ummmm, wait a minute, I’m Contestant #3!”
The rest, as they say, is history…
