It’s not as easy to retire as you might think. I’m coming up on six months since I retired. I am easing into being more and more my true self. I monitor myself for compulsions. Since I can basically do most of what I want to do, I notice closely when I feel that I “should” be something. Most of these compulsions are left over from my previous un-retired life. Most of them do not apply to who I am now.

I would probably listen more closely to the old compulsion to continue to improve my musical skills. But I know that my skills of executing music are ebbing a bit in the face of my hands shrinking. So I haven’t done much technique practice since retiring. Unless I can get my hands fixed (which is something Eileen keeps saying I should look into again), it seems weird to throw myself deeply into maintaining and improving my basic music skills.

The freedom that I was hoping for has been very gradual in coming. At the same time I think I am rapidly changing my understanding of myself. In a good way. I have been interested in growing and changing, but this change is very fundamental.

First of all, rabbit holes are available. By rabbit hole I mean the ability to follow distractions and curiosities in a way that is difficult when trying to do all the stuff I think I needed to do when I had a job.

And now I can follow multiple rabbit holes. In the back of mind a composition is rattling around. Probably more than one. But in the foreground is seeking a better understanding of the country where I live. When I was working it felt justified to read books about music and church stuff. Now I feel justified in basically reading whatever I want to. Right now this includes Fugitive Poses by Gerald Vizenor. But he’s only one of several books I am reading about native Americans.

This reading is contributing to my thinking about using traditions like native American and African American and Appalachian in my composition. I am rapidly coming to an understanding of what it means to appropriate traditions. Vizenor has taught me that my understanding of the “other” in my country has more to do with the dominant cultural understanding than any clear picture of people who are coming from these points of view.

This is helpful to me and has been so in many ways.

In addition I have been thinking a lot about my extended family of origin and how I fit in to it. Vizenor, Stein and others (especially poets) have helped me see myself a little more clearly and to take responsibility for my self in as many ways as possible.

I usually wonder how I fit in to the story of my family. I wonder this because so many times in my life I haven’t seem to do so. Since I’m not unhappy with who I am at this point, it’s helpful to consider that much if not of all of my disconnectedness has more to do with how others both within and without of my family system have attempted to define me, often as “other.” This kind of defining has come more from people around me than myself since I see myself so differently.

This is helpful.

Our internet was down for a bit yesterday. It’s discouraging how dependent one gets on the stupid thing. I called the Comcast robot in charge. She offered to text me when it came back which she did. I was reduced to taking out books to look up stuff instead of lazily googling. I was able to find my look ups in real books. Think of that.

Eileen and I watched Alex while Elizabeth taught her art class. I guess it’s sort of a painting class right now. Their model has religion. He was talking about God to the class causing a few eye rolls (according to Elspeth). He was born in England to Jamaican parents. Apparently not as obnoxious as some religious types.

Alex seemed to have remembered that she needs to ask me early in the visit (before martini time) to go to the upstairs music room. This is the room which now houses the harpsichord, the congas, and the marimba. There are other instruments laying around as well including several recorders, banjo, and guitars. Alex does not like to be up there by herself other wise she would have pretty much free rein. I don’t blame her for not wanting to be alone sometimes at this stage of her life. Her life has been quite an adventure so far and must be a bit disconcerting at times. She is a bright little thing.

So upstairs we went. I’m not sure quite what her attraction is other than the novelty of the musical instruments. She quickly tires of playing the marimba. Yesterday I put the congas on the stand which allows them a nice ring. I play too of course. I have been playing a movement of a Bach violin unaccompanied sonata on the marimba for her the last couple of times we were in the room together. Also Spanish Eyes keeps bubbling up from old memory. And we do some improvising. She seemed to get that the congas make a better sound on the rack than on the floor.

Before long we were back downstairs and I played some kids songs on the piano always checking in to see if she recognized stuff like “If I only had a brain.” She knew most of my repertoire and we all did some singing. Eileen and Alex did some dancing but dancing is hard to do when one is playing the piano.

Eileen and Alex began some elaborate pretend stuff. This may have been before the singing. But I was able to pass Alex on to Eileen and do some reading which is not always easy when Alex is in the house. It helps to put my ear phones on.

I do like it when Elizabeth and Alex spend the night and I can have some time with Elizabeth in the morning before they go home. There was a lot of processing Bob Daum’s funeral, some verbal (Elizabeth) and some nonverbal (Alex). It’s a complex family system with three families from Bob’s three widows. Only his current widow was at the funeral but Diane the first wife was around afterwards to help identify people in the pictures they shared with each other. Apparently they told each other all the stories about Bob some of which are not particularly flattering. I even witnessed some of these events when I met him at Jeremy’s graduation from Washington U with his J.D.

I have been spending quite a bit of time with Brahms late solo piano works. These are gems and my hands haven’t completely quite functioning so I can sort of play them. It’s ironic to lose facility at this stage of the game since my keyboard skills only really improved in the last couple of decades. I haven’t been working on technique at all. My playing is largely for my own satisfaction. I will have to confront if I have enough skill to play with people if I get that urge. It has occurred to me that my skills are quite diminished and may not exactly be up to some fun chamber music like stuff. I’ll have to write some easy stuff if I get the urge.

Here’s Bob’s obit.

Dr. Robert Daum, an infectious disease specialist, dies – Chicago Tribune

Bob’s last wife Susan had a daughter, Shannon Vavra, before she married Bob. Vavra is a professional journalist and did some hustling to get Bob’s obit in the Tribune. In fact, she wrote an obit but the Tribune insisted on rewriting it. Jeremy thought they probably made it a little worse which is believable when you read it.

Eileen and I watched the Zoom funeral. Shannon stood next to Susan as she gave her eulogy.