The Perfect Song Blog

A column on spines?  Yes!  A Spinal Column!

I agreed to have my spine checked out. I’ve been having lower back problems since my band days.  I went in like everyone knowing absolutely nothing about spines but thinking I had some maybe minor repair work ahead.

The doctor had me walk in place with my eyes closed, a really subtle trick after which you’re standing as you normally do without thinking.  The doctor shook her head and looked really concerned.

“I’m really concerned,” she said, underscoring my interpretation of her look.  Concerned.  Really concerned.  Not good.

“You stand with your right shoulder higher than the other,” she said.

I nodded.  “I’ve been doing that since I was a kid.”

She nodded knowingly.  I do not like it when a doctor nods knowingly.

Her assistant interviewed me to get some history.  “Were you ever in a car accident?”

“Yes, when I was 17, I hit ice, went out of control and smacked a tree head-on.”

“Were you wearing a seat belt?”

“I don’t think seat belts were in cars back then.”

“Any falls?”

“I grew up on a farm.  I fell off horses lots of times.  When you fall off a horse, you never land on your feet.” When you fall off a galloping horse, your body kind of tumbles along the ground in a fusion of gravity and physics.  It’s always awkward.

There was more that I didn’t detail.  Falling on my head on a concrete floor in my grandmother’s milk house.

Loading, unloading, setting up instruments and equipment, then repeating the process one, two and three nights a week for nearly 40 years.  (Hey, I started playing professionally when I was 14).

A fall from a scaffold, which is a story in itself.  Running with a wheelbarrow full of rocks, hitting a hole and flying over the wheelbarrow — another story.

How does an active human being not wreck his or her back?

A few days later I was looking at my spine on a series of x-rays.  “Your neck is curved the wrong way in three places,” the doctor said, pointing to a sad looking upper spine.  She brought her pointer to a second x-ray.  “You have two discs that have shifted out of place.”  Nope, that didn’t look good either. I could see them.  They’re going in the wrong direction.

“And you have a curvature to the left.  Scoliosis.  It’s genetic.”  Alright, I’m going to go back and find the family culprit who passed that one on to me.  Mom?  Where are you?

“And you’re in stage 3, the stage just before the discs start fusing and there’s no repair.”

Hmm.  Now I know why she was concerned.

“But I think there’s hope to help you,” she said.  I was hoping she’d say that.

I write this for a couple of reasons.  First, it’s a step in a new adventure, one I’m hoping will have a happy ending.

Secondly, if you’ve any kind of life at all, you’ve probably hurt your spine and it will catch up with you.

Get your spine checked.

Poul announces to the new CEO that Mendel is dead. He tells the CEO to announce that he, Poul, is also dead. That night, with the news announcement around the world, the streets fill with millions of people mourning the passing of Mendel. In the middle of the night, half drunk, Poul realizes what Mendel was doing when he finally gave up and left Mendel. He rushes into the street and begins his final journey as he tries to find the composer one last time.

Length: 17:10
Size: 15.7 MB

I recently got hooked on Chinese soup, the kind that comes in Styrofoam bowls wrapped in plastic or in those little cellophane packs.  I know they have more sodium than the Pacific Ocean, but I love the flavors.

And I love eating them alone.  It just occurred to me today as I sat hunched over my bowl with a noodle hanging out of my mouth, that the whole process of eating a bowl of pork and mushroom soup is sloppy fun that you do alone.

Other adults, I’m sure would not approve of my technique

Here’s the process:

I open all the dried contents, add water and heat the soup for four minutes.  I take it out and grab a fork.  I discovered early on that it’s futile to try scoop a wad of these noodles with a spoon.  Use a fork first.  I take the first bite which is always too hot, and immediately spit it back into the bowl.

I stir it for awhile, then take a cautious second bite.

The fun begins.

I’m sitting at the table, my down turned head hovering over the bowl with a gob of noodles dangling from my mouth.  I bite down to sever them but there are always two or three noodles who escape the choppers.  I tear them off with my fingers.

The whole process is gross, sloppy and really fun.

Think about it.  When’s the last time you really engaged in your food in such an undignified way?  Watch a two-year-old – and I’m talking girls and boys – and it’s immediately clear that they know how to have fun with food.

We’ve lost the ability to interact in a meaningless, happy way with our food.

Tactile joys!  Touch it!  Tear it!   Taste it!  Play with it!

By the time I’m done with my soup, I’ve wiped my face a dozen times and my fingers are sticky with noodle starch.

And I am, in some weird, pre-adolescent way, completely satisfied with my solitary dining experience.

Try it.

Mendel’s reputation is at an all-time high.  Riots continue throughout the country.  Phillips, the new CEO of Beasely Inc. has leaked Poul’s name to  the media.  Poul confronts Phillips with a tactic that shocks the CEO.  Mendel has a final, otherwordly vision, and Poul, who has returned to gather papers finds none.  Weary, frustrated and confused, Poul leaves Mendel for the last time.

Length: 17:34
Size: 16 MB

Poul, tired of following Mendel, takes what songs he has back to New York. He is shocked to learn that Beasely is gravely ill. Poul visits his friend and, following Beasely pleas, reveals a secret he has held for decades.

Mendel is closing in on the perfect song. Poul, who has returned to Mendel, watches and knows that something huge is about to happen.

(If you are enjoying this labor of love, please send a contribution to The Perfect Song Scholarship Fund, Mansfield University Foundation, Mansfield University, Mansfield PA 16933. All donations are tax-deductable).

Length: 18:30
Size: 24.3 MB

If you come to this blog on a regular basis, you may not know that there’s a ton (well, cyber tons) of material on my website www.perfectsong.net

The news section chronicles my experiences with the book and other life and death adventures of the last couple of years.  The Perfect Song is also available in text form under “The Novel.”  I have a page of writing tips which I haven’t updated lately.   What is there, though, I have been told is very helpful.

I also started a page on books I’ve read over the past 30 years and what they meant to me.

Finally, I’m starting a new section in which I will talk about all of the influences that went into The Perfect Song.  Over the years I’ve read dozens of critical works in which a scholar tries to determine influences in author’s works.  I’ll save everyone the trouble and do it myself.  I’m finding the whole exercise pretty fascinating as I dredge up my life, experiences, readings, etc.  I hope — with Jared’s help — to have that up in the next couple months.

So, if you haven’t seen The Perfect Song website, check it out.

Ed. note:  If you are enjoying The Perfect Song, please send a contribution to The Perfect Song Scholarship Fund, Mansfield University Foundation, Mansfield University, Mansfield PA 16933.  Your donations are tax deductible.

Mendel, still devastated with the loss of Mara, continues walking, writing and casting away songs of pain and loss.

Mendel’s image in society becomes more saintly with the Pro Ms and more satanic with the Anti Ms.  The forces clash in riots.  Poul confronts a bear trying to steal his bag of songs.  Poul returns to New York to find a changed Beasely.  He leaves again to find Mendel with a dark feeling that they are all running out of time.

Length: 23:31
Size: 21.5 MB