Better than Starbucks and Sunshine

This morning, before driving an hour down to Oregon to visit with my parents, I stopped by a Starbucks drive-thru and ordered a tall cup of coffee with cream.  It was one of those pleasant waits when the sun warms through the open sunroof, Richard Stoltzman enchants through several speakers with  Mozart's Clarinet Concerto in A Major, K. 622, my Starbucks card has plenty of money on it, and I'd remembered my own cup (thereby getting a discount).  My sunglasses were clean and the red arrow pointed to the "F" indicating a full tank.  There was even a joyous anticipation of getting to spend time with family.

Can't get much better than that, right?

Unless...

Unless--when you drive up to the window--the barista leans out and says, "The gentleman in front of you paid for your coffee."

A W E S O M E

No, I don't know who it was.  The car was black, and that is all I can remember about it.  It was already gone by the time I pulled up and she told me.

Stoltzman's Innisfree

Gratitude

I'm grateful to be able to sit amid a flock of Canada geese at lunch time. I'm grateful for my car stereo. I'm grateful I can google (yes I believe it is now a verb) things and people, and learn about them on the computer. Although I prefer the instant gratification of going to a store and being able to walk out with my purchase, I'm grateful I can buy hard-to-find things on Amazon and have them arrive at my mailbox a few days later.

Earlier in the week, before the rain set in, I found out my friends, the Canada Geese, were back near the little pond near my work. At lunch I drove to the spot and settled in. With the window only partially open, I listened to Richard Stoltzman play Mozart's Andante K315 on his clarinet, while I edited my manuscript. It was beautiful, tranquil, lovely. That is, until some predator, probably an eagle, sent the birds flapping into the air in a frenzy of honking terror. Then there was no peace for anyone. I might as well have had heavy metal playing and been setting small houses on fire. It was almost a relief to return to work.Friday, I went to the post office and there it was, my new Stoltzman CD, "Open Sky". I ripped open the package, carefully removed the CD and slipped it into my player. I drove to the "geese" spot, but they were not there, maybe because a red-tailed hawk lorded over the meadow in a naked tree. I'm not really sure the geese would be afraid of the hawk, but the meadow was barren. I'm also not sure the hawk appreciates my music like the geese do, but I set Innisfree on repeat and tortured myself for 45 minutes, watching the hawk and swiping at the tears. It is so very beautiful. I don't know how Stoltzman was able to put so much emotion into his instrument, but I can't listen to it without sobbing. Probably best not to listen to that particular piece while I'm driving. The other music on the CD is lovely, yes, but does not evoke my utter surrender, as Innisfree does.

When I got home Friday evening, I googled Stoltzman, found out he is currently at a well known music conservatory and I sent him an email, thanking him for the perfection of that song and for sharing his gift with us. He'll probably think I am stalking him and delete the email, but Hayward's Daily Review newspaper columnist, Ray Orrock, once said that if someone has touched your life, made it better, you should thank them.

You've no idea how it will affect them, of course, but I know such a simple task can mean a lot to some. On a whim a few years ago, I wrote a thank you note to one of my college instructors years after my degree. I received a letter back from his wife. He was in hospice. She read him the letter, and she didn't know if he understood, but the letter cheered her and renewed her resolve to stay strong for him. He died a few days later and she took my letter to the college newspaper and had them publish it as a tribute to him. I doubt he was well enough to comprehend the letter and, although I thought about it every so often, I never wrote to him until it was too late. I regret that.

If someone had a positive effect on your life, send them a note. It doesn't matter if it was a neighbor, a teacher, a relative, a movie star, or a clarinetist. Do it now, before it is too late.

Clarinets in 1805

According to two experts, very few amateurs would have had a clarinet in 1805. They were very costly, and not many had the free time to practice. It was suggested by one that a stringed instrument would have been more likely.

Professor Arnold Myers, Chairman, Edinburgh University Collection of Historic Musical Instruments, suggested the possibility a flute would have been more likely than a clarinet. He agreed, however, that if the gentleman in my book were to play Mozart's Clarinet Concerto in A Major, Second Movement, that he would, indeed, have to play a clarinet in A, although the B-flat was the more common size even then.

Luckily, my character has the time to practice, and the money to purchase the instrument.

There were six key instruments in 1805, but the more common clarinet would have been a five key.

Notice the ivory rings? All three of the above instruments were made in London, c 1790, c 1770 and c 1805. I wonder if they had connections to the ivory trade? The wood is boxwood.

I also heard from a clarinetist by the name of Tom, who told me of Richard Stoltzman. Mr. Stoltzman has numerous CDs and, of course, I've purchased one. Mr. Stoltzman breathes life into the clarinet, and reduced me to tears when I heard him play "Innisfree." Tom also took the time to tell me what it is like to play the clarinet, capturing my heart and making me regret a decision I made in second grade. My piano teacher told my mother that she had a waiting list and that I obviously did not have my heart in learning the piano. Would it be all right for her to drop me and take on someone who actually wanted to play. When my mother approached me and asked if I wanted to continue with the lessons or not, I shrugged and said, "not really."

Years later I realized it was a stupid decision. If only we could know the importance of things at a very early age, we wouldn't have to live with regrets later. I'm grateful that Tom, and Richard Stoltzman did not make the same mistake.

If you would care to hear one of the most beautifully played clarinet pieces I've ever heard, may I suggest you listen to "Innisfree" on the Open Sky CD.

Editor's Note: Photographs of the above instruments from the Edinburgh University Collection of Historic Musical Instruments used by permission.