Beff's semester finishes today, and she is due home after dark tonight. Tomorrow night we take Big Mike out for Chinese buffet

The assembled are probably wondering how I got this far in without bringing up teeth or dentists, so I won't disappoint. Last Tuesday I was supposed to get my new night guard (which I have been calling my Nygar, because that's what I do) fitted, and I drove to the dentist office in rush hour only to be told it wasn't back from the lab yet -- as of today, a week later, I still haven't been told it's ready. On the same day, I brought my panoramic X-rays to a dental surgeon in Concord -- in a building that shares a parking lot with the nursing home where I last saw Nancy Redgate -- for a consultation. And we scheduled a Feb. 9 extraction date, for which Beff has to be here to take me home -- I chose the laughing gas option not because I'm not brave, but because I've never had it, and I need new things to stick in the top paragraph of this update. They are just taking out tooth #16, a third molar, a wisdom tooth, a little thing I like to call "Terlanoo". I suppose if Beff can't make it to be chauffeur (weather, for instance), I'll choose the stoic novocaine option and grip the chair very hard.

And so this weekend because of impending pantry work, etc., Beff will take the cats back to Maine with her. This means, in a practical sense, that I'll get to work one minute earlier every morning, since the part where I take care of the cat litter will be eliminated. With that extra minute, I plan to think about what I can do to help humanity, solve global warming, and make us love each other just a little bit more. Remembering that it's the thought that counts.

During the last nine days, I also paid a couple of shareware fees. Amadeus, which I use for audio editing a lot, became Amadeus Pro, so I got the new version of that, and the old standby Vocal Writer has finally been written for OS X, and I paid for that as well. Vocal Writer calls itself the only singing synthesizer, and maybe it is, but it also has a whole bunch of other patches that sound like 1998 -- I'm especially fond of the gunshot patch. Back in 1998, when Vocal Writer was cutting edge, you could import your Finale files as MIDI files, assign instruments and actually "play them to disk" -- make a sound file of the MIDI data. It was unique at the time, and Beff used Vocal Writer with her video and audio projects to check out timing. Now Finale plays to disc, so that's no longer unique. Meanwhile, the interface of Vocal Writer, as well as the whole bunch of synthesizer patches, are EXACTLY the same, so there's a stratospherically high cheese factor in any Vocal Writer output. But I forgot to mention -- you can also get a near-hilarious singing sound for any of your midi tracks, and so I've done that a little with some existing things (these files were created years ago) -- and I also played a bit with the pitch bend parameter on the DEMO tracks to make the singers sound like nervous second-graders. My experience with these tracks is that listening makes you laugh hysterically, or makes your teeth fall out. So far I haven't seen both.

So in the magenta links on the left are a few MP3s of Vocal Writer stuff, including, in order: O Rhode Island; my demo song for Theory 2, on an A.E. Housman poem; the fourth of the Sex Songs, text by Rick Moody; the demo of my Country 'Tis of Thee with bad intonation; a Christmas song with even worse intonation. Enjoy, but watch your teeth.

Upcoming: Geoffy comes Wednesday, bye-bye tooth 16 a week from Friday, followed by Brandeis student composer concert next day, then a drive to NYC the day after that for accountant/etude premieres. So there.

Not many pictures were taken this last nine days, but we did get the cats experiencing a box we had gotten out to package pantry stuff (first two pictures, check the pantry in the background of the second one and compare to the finished product several weeks into the future -- whooooosh!). Then two Goose/Assabet shots from our walk on Sunday. And for the sake of padding, a couple of pictures from New Years Eve during the UK trip -- note wind factor as Beff opens champagne.

FEBRUARY 6. Breakfast today was some rice link sausages, coffee, and orange juice. Dinner was seared chicken marinated in Jamaican pepper sauce, fried onions, home fries, and salad. Lunch was $2 worth of Pad Thai noodles that cost $3.29. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK: 5.7 and 38.5. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS The Waltz of the Flowers from the Nutcracker. LARGE EXPENSES this last week includes a cargo van rental from Avis, $54, and a piece of furniture from Pier One for the dining room, $300. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: My first serious asthma attack was in the second year that I was in Little League. I remember being outdoors in my pajamas and listening to a Little League game on the radio (the St. Albans station was always looking for stuff to broadcast that was free), our team (the Cardinals) was playing, and I marveled when the least coordinated and least athletic guy on the team hit a home run. And I never did. For the record, because of fewer at-bats caused by this asthma attack, my stats for the season were 8 hits in 17 at-bats. Really. Some time later I wast taken for the scratch test -- to determine my allergies. Results at the time were cats (this is why the asthma attacks -- I had them until my junior year in high school), mold, feathers, peanuts, and dust. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: What is the probability that probability is an inexact science? THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: fludge. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF Republican senators. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: whatever make the refrigerator emptier. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK the distinction between an SUV and a cargo van. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 2. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: This page. NUMBER OF HAIRCUTS I GOT LAST WEEK: 0. DENTIST VISITS SINCE SEPTEMBER: 10. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK rubber on the little handle on the recumbent bike exercise machine, now taped over. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS LAST NINE DAYS: 1. FUN DAVY FACT YOU WON'T READ ANYWHERE ELSE: I failed a vocabulary test in third grade; I used all the requisite words impeccably, but the teacher suddenly decided that beginning every sentence with "the" was an academically criminal offense. For the record, that teacher is now dead. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: "Downtown" describes a place. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 10,256. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.11. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE the old gray mare she ain't what she used to be, Mighty Mouse, gorgonzola surprise, the head of a pin whose angels have deserted it for tenure-track jobs.

Fwiggin cold. Where's global warming when you most want it? I had completely forgotten that in previous criticisms of the weather forecasters I had taken to calling them "them what make". (Geoffy used it in a sentence, and that reminded me) And them what make were a little off on their game the last couple week, as two predicted snowstorms turned into nothing, and one unpredicted one gave us three inches. And meanwhile, the forecast doesn't call for the temp to go above freezing for the five-day forecast period. Why, I oughtta.

So let me take it from the top. This seems like so, so long ago, and yet it was just a week ago. I mentioned the upcoming Lee Hyla concert in the last entry here, and because of that Rebecca -- who now works near NEC -- queried about dinner. I informed that there was a pre-concert reception I was committed to, and she could go, too. So I drove in with the intent of parking next to NEC, fully prepared to pay the $19 event fee, and as I reached the straightaway near Rossini's restaurant, the WBZ announcer piped in with, "and let's hear about the SNOW we're getting tonight." Cue the peppy music. "Sloppy mess coming as a storm passes to our south. It'll start after rush hour and we expect a heavy wet coating of 1 to 3 inches. Luckily, it won't affect your commute". After vetoing the idea to park at the South Acton station and take a train, I got to NEC with plenty of time to spare, as rush hour wasn't amounting to much. So I had a salad (yes, I had a salad. Say that in unison, o ye of low two figures, I had a salad) and two UFOs in order to pass the time, at the same sports bar I used to go to for lunch the year I taught at NEC. Then I walked to NEC, went to the reception, and there was Rebecca (who by now must be astonished that I used her actual name, twice) with a name tag. Turns out it was an alumni event, and she called herself a 2004 graduate, though she didn't say from what school.

And my old friend Andy Hurlbut -- who used to work for Gunther Schuller during what I obnoxiously call my four lost years -- was the official photographer for the event. We chewed over some past glories, and he reminded me that he and his now-wife came to visit us when we lived in Spencer, where we swam. Other old friends were there -- many of whom I'd seen at the BMOP concert a week earlier, and I made it through two glasses of *free!* wine. Which made me totally plastered. Any thoughts of exiting at intermission in case of snow kind of evaporated there.

And the concert itself -- being that it was a Lee Hyla concert -- was fantastic. Certainly the best concert I've been to in years. His three greatest hits were on -- Pre-Pulse, Piano Concerto, Wilson's Ivory Bill. I was tipsy enough after the third of those that I gave it a standing ovation -- but turned out I was the only one -- blast those seats in the back. By the end of the concert, everybody else caught up with me for a big standing o. I still needed to decompress a little after the concert, so I got a cappuccino at Starbucks and two cheeseburgers at Burger King, came to the post-concert reception, and talked to Rob Kirzinger for a substantial amount of time. About what I don't remember. Then I drove home in the NON-snowstorm -- which by the next morning was still a non-snowstorm.

But that was just revving up for the rest of the week. Wednesday was a standard teaching day, as was Thursday. Thursday I was fasting so that I could get a blood test, and I did so. And then Thursday night was readings by the Brandeis-Wellesley Orchestra of final projects for the Orchestration class. I certainly had fun (I had nothing at stake), and Neal did a great job getting the orchestra through the arrangements. I was there recording the sessions with my Edirol so the students could have their own documents of this session. Of course, since we spent a whole semester listening to orchestra recordings by professionals who had rehearsed for hours and hours, they probably weren't ready for the sound of an orchestra of biology and sociology majors giving them ten minutes. But I found it to be a supremely educational experience. And, as the current buzzword goes -- experiential. (Ow, my fingers burn when I type that word)

Upon returning home from the readings, I found the requisite runthroughs on the data card, converted the sounds to mp3, and e-mailed them to the students. Geoffy, meanwhile, was here for the weekend for the Musica Viva family shows (Musica Viva is the local "we don't do Davy" group), and his rehearsal schedule gave him Friday and Saturday completely free. He delighted in hearing the readings coming out of my computer. Then I made him hear some music of mine from the fall. And there was beer. Beff got home before we were asleep -- a rare occurrence -- and we stayed up giggling for just a little while.

Meanwhile, it was a weekend to start getting the pantry and mud room ready for the big conversion. After Beff's morning dentist appointment -- which she followed with a trip to Tar-zhay for a towel rack and toilet paper dispenser -- we went to Door and Window for a consult. Here I revealed yet another of my secret desires since I was six (a knife magnet being one that we achieved years ago) -- let's get rid of the old refrigerator and get a NEW one WITH AN ICEMAKER AND COLD WATER SPIGOT please, pretty please. We were given a GE catalog to look at, chose two possible ones, and they will order whichever one we request. We (meaning Beff) also chose a style for the doors for the new closet in the mud room and a matching one for the soon-to-be-bathroom. Meanwhile, in the morning, Rick Beaudoin had come to the house for his lesson -- we have a weird schedule set up, since he lives way out west -- and Geoffy was migrating from room to room doing academic stuff for his academic job. At the end of the day, we walked to the Quarterdeck for seafood, and Geoffy and Beffy (soon coming to a puppet theater near you) went to see THE QUEEN at the Maynard theater (I didn't). Upon their return, Geoffy tried the "ancnoc" Scotch we brought back from Glasgow and pronounced it eminently drinkable.

Meanwhile, Friday's predicted 1 to 3 inches of snow was superceded by what I like to call "sun". Saturday morning, however, we woke up to an unpredicted three inches, which I promptly shoveled. It was only my second shoveling event of the season.

As stuff from the pantry and the drawers to the right of the sink got packed into boxes, it became evident we needed to create more storage space, and it was posited that a nice unit in the dining room would be the way to think about going. So in the morning Beff drove to Pier One in Acton to see if they had anything appropriate. And then the call came -- Beff's cell phone. "Rent a van. There's a big unit here, and shipping is a hundred dollars. We can get a van for less. I'm going to K-Mart. Call me." So dutifully I went to Enterprise, and they offered me a van for $90 for one day. I managed to withhold the profanity that such a price called for, and turned down their very nice offer. Then I got in the car and called Beff -- who by this time was getting groceries in Donelan's. "Well, ...... -ollars i- .... -ad fo- ... ... -ess tha- ....." My response was "get closer to the door. You're breaking up." ".... .... -an .... ..." So I had to hang up. Got in the car, was ready to come home and look up Ryder, and while I was on Route 62, Beff called and suggested a cargo van from Avis. Which is right in Maynard, and yes, for $54 we could rent that SUV with the California plates (which I was to find out later is also a cargo van).

So off down Route 27 I went, called Beff, who responded "Shoul- .... -o to K-Ma.... .. -irst?" I said no, meet me at Pier One, I'm the one with the gray SUV. We managed to get the piece of furniture into the cargo van/SUV and our old friend Actor-Man from Pier One helped us get it in -- only mishap being the beep beep when I unlocked it without using the little security button on the keyring first. Anyway, it was very tall and not too heavy, and when we got home we traipsed through the snow in order to bring it in the front door. Disassembling the box from around the unit was fun ("mmrrrrRRRIP!" it went) and of course the cats were molto curioso. I brought the van back to Avis ("So soon?" they said), and Beff went to the Pet Store for a new litter box for Bangor, etc., during which time I assembled the unit (eezy peezy). Later Beff moved stuff into it, and then we realized we needed a silverware tray -- which I up and went to K-Mart for. Success.

And THEN that night was dinner at the Tuscan Grill -- rich enough to make me queasy and tired-looking in the few hours immediately thereafter as a prelude to the Lydian Quartet concert. It started with a Paquito D'Rivera piece (mostly shunting aside development and transition in favor of ostinatos) and then Yu-Hui's piece "responding to" the Beethoven Op. 131. Yu-Hui's piece was very refined and full of invention, and that was extremely satisfying. We skipped the Beethoven, which was the second half.

On Sunday, after we cleared yet more out of the kitchen -- including the table -- Beff left in the morning, carrying the cats with her, plus a bunch of stuff from the freezer, and now they are in Bangor. I, meanwhile, burned CDs of the orchestra readings, avoided the Super Bowl and went to bed early, after spending a little while entering all the tax information into a format presentable to Jonathan, our accountant. Yesterday was a good teaching day, and we are DONE with variations. Tomorrow, the beginnings of writing a song. So there.

And as we all know, I get a wisdom tooth, a third molar, out on Friday. I chose the laughing gas option just for the heck of it, and Beff will be here to chauffeur me. Saturday is a composers concert, and Sunday I drive to New York. Tuesday I drive back. THIS Thursday I do extra office hours for Theory 2 students. And on Monday, while I am in New York, they start gutting the pantry. Life is full. Then you die.

This week's pictures include both cats being interested in the Pier One box before Beff burned it, that new piece of furniture in context, Sunny in the snow, that big box being burned, and the somewhat emptier kitchen as it stands now.

FEBRUARY 13. Breakfast today was a hot croissant thing from Dunkin Donuts and coffee. Lunch was Buffalo wings and salad at Neighborhood Pizzeria. Last night's dinner was at pizza slices at Sbarro, just off Route 84 in Sturbridge -- note that all meals were served at restaurants. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK: 7.9 and 36.1. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS I can't believe it's this, but ... Itsy Bitsy Spider. It's one of the tunes with variations being written on from Theory 2. LARGE EXPENSES this last week include parking in New York, $54 and new fridge, $1683.81. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: I don't know if the "President's Physical Fitness" patch is still given out,but I got one when I was in eighth grade. This involved getting acceptable scores in 50-year dash, situps, standing broad jump, chinups, throwing a baseball, and I don't remember what else. I was woefully deficient in chin-ups, but I got one anyway. So did Mark Massa, the only other one from our class to do so. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: Are there Anti-Social Sciences, too? THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: pank. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF Variations. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: whatever doesn't have to be kept refrigerated. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK There are expensive pianos that can seem to be eminently breakable. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 5. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: This page, home, Compositions. NUMBER OF HAIRCUTS I GOT LAST WEEK: 0. DENTIST VISITS SINCE SEPTEMBER: 10. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK Nothing in Maynard, since they are in Maine. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS LAST NINE DAYS: 3. FUN DAVY FACT YOU WON'T READ ANYWHERE ELSE: I played in the (high school) district festival when I was in sixth grade, got a (reel to reel) tape of that concert, and used to play along to it for months after the concert. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Endless summer. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 10,310. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.15 (MA) and $2.39 (CT). OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE A parade route, seventeen paris of tweezers, a flea collar, the right answers to tomorrow's biology quiz.

I have thirty-one teeth.

So the week began as so many weeks here have, by it being Tuesday. Which didn't mean much, except that I typed one of these updates. But not this very one you read now. Instead, there was stuff to do, places to go. And I don't know how important any of it was. Except that I do know I was methodically emptying out the mud room and pantry, placing the contents either onto the side porch or into the dining room, in boxes. It was one time that our pack rat nature (i.e. saving boxes in the attic) served us well. Finally, all that was left was some good food in and on the fridge, and I ate as much of it as I could during the week. Eventually, some old sauces and yeast and jams and jellies got thrown away for good.

Upon returning home Tuesday, I got my blood test results and all was well. For those of you who know what these things mean, here they are: Cholesterol 165, HDL 60, LDL 87, Triglycerides 88.

Wednesday was the teaching day it always is, wherein I introduced the song-writing unit and just barely scratched the surface in one half a lecture (which had followed a little bit more about "Nuages"). Then a very, very, very, very long meeting of the Faculty Senate Council (scheduled ending: 4:30; actual ending: 6:15), and, sigh, driving home in the dark. I hate those days I drive to work in the dark (M, W) AND drive home in the dark. Thursday had its usual teaching and a department faculty meeting as well, then four hours of office hours for Theory 2 students to show me their varations, and then at night Beff got back for her brief stay. I continued to eat whatever happened to be in the fridge, and Thursday night was probably pretty bizarre. Friday night was a hamburger, a chicken breast, some rice, and some salad for each of us. And that's where we left it.

By 9:30 Thursday night I was fasting (not being fast). For on the morrow was to be a tooth-pullin' extravaganza. And luckily the weather has been cooperating all this time (while bringing 12 feet of lake effect snow to upstate NY, alas). Early we rose, for the appointed hour was 9:15, and we drove to the oral surgeon office in plentyof time. The waiting room was crowded, and we sat there a good 45 minutes while everyone but us was called on, thus eventually making us the only ones there. Finally, a little more than a half hour late, I was called. And into a dentist chair I was summoned, I was told to remove my sweater, an IV was attached, an oxygen thing was placed near my nose, and a nurse made jokes. Then it was second year film school continuity: I mentioned that the oxygen thing plugged my nose, and was told it always fits that way. The nurse said, "and the second one should be taking effect about now". Then I was asked to get up from the chair, and I felt dizzy and doddering, and plenty of other things that being with "d". Immediately I was on the sidewalk outside the building being escorted to the car, and then was in it. Beff drove and stopped at CVS for what seemed like two hours (it was about eight minutes). I got a vicadin prescription plus extra strength tylenol, and Beff got a big tub to replace our toolbox.

After CVS we stopped at Maynard Door & Window to make sure we were having a meeting that day, and I got to be supported like a doddering fool (as I was one at the time), we got home and I laid down on the reclining chair and chilled out. While Beff transferred the contents of the toolbox to the new tub. Eventually I noticed there was gauze in my mouth, and Beff told me when it could be taken out (and it was, Oscar, it was). Later, a few details about my film-school continuity got filled in: I was under for about 20 minutes, there was a consult with the doctor that I remember nothing about, the nurse commented on my change purse, and somehow my sweater got put back on. And after two hours at home resting, I was suddenly starving. Pickles were the next to go. Within another hour I was raring to go, and back on e-mail, etc. And Steve and Jeannine came over for the last consult before starting the work in the house.

Saturday morning I did the fridge triage, unplugged it, and we were raring to go. Beff had to get back on Saturday for a concert at U Maine, and also because that's where the cats are. And the Winged Contraption BMOP performance CD finally came in the mail, so I made a few copies to send out, and stuck an mp3 in my webspace (see "WC perf" in red on the left). But wait, there's more.

That night was a Brandeis composers concert, and of course I went -- as did my colleagues, and Rhode Island, and plenty of students. All in all a very successful affair, with good pieces and excellent performances. Afterwards I met a composer from the MacDowell Colony that had come to the concert with John Aylward -- as he is at MacDowell now and had a viola and tape piece on the concert -- and the food at the reception was pretty much as food at receptions are. And I shonuff got home late that night.

But next morning I was up bright and early, and on my way to New York! The drive there was fairly eventless, and I got to Chelsea and into Hayes and Susan's apartment before noon. Which was good, I guess. Got a Subway sandwich, took a walk in the afternoon, played with the two cats a bit, took Hayes and Susan to dinner, and watched a bunch of the Grammy broadcast -- we were SOOO proud of the Dixie Chicks. And boy did we see a lot of Mary J. Blige and Carrie Underwood. I also thought it was kind of ... insulting ... that the Grammy academy would trot Ornette Coleman on stage to give him a lifetime achievement award ...and immediately make him a presenter for the Best New Artist grammy. Tacky, tacky, tacky. It made us think that Maria Callas died 30 years ago precisely so she wouldn't have to award the best rap recording at the same ceremony on which SHE got the lifetime achievement award. Then we were wondering why so many lifetime achievement awards were going to people who no longer had lifetimes, and thus no more achievements. But that was a story for another day.