All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

Top Ten Things To Do During the Writer's Guild Strike of 2007

10. Watch Baywatch reruns on TV Land. Long live the Hoff!
9. In keeping with the Star Trek-Boston Legal connection, try to convince Majel Barrett Roddenberry to create some new storylines to keep William Shatner's cash flow going.
8. Catch up on some Holiday Catalog reading.
7. Convince yourself that reality TV outside of anything starring Gordon Ramsey is really interesting.
6. Start laminating Houston Symphony trading cards to enhance their eBay value.
5. Have some fun with your friends' heads on JibJab.
4. Go through the HS Wavelength Blog Archives, and see how fun it is to read this blog, translated into pirate-speak. Arrr!
3. Fer Pete's sake, go outside and get some fresh air!! Run! Bike! Walk your dog!
2. Now that you're not sitting ON the couch, fish under the cushions and take all your newfound wealth to the Houston Symphony Store and buy Symphomaniac merchandise for all your loved ones for Christmas.


and the number one thing to do during the Writer's Guild Strike of 2007 is:

1. Get your sorry self to the Houston Symphony this Friday, Saturday, or Sunday to see how many percussion instruments Evelyn Glennie needs to drown out a symphony orchestra!!! Oh, and the Prokoviev is pretty good, too.

A rose by any other name.....

Tonight we are playing a concert with Kenny G. I don't know whether or not you'd call "G" his stage name, or just an abbreviation. Yesterday while rehearsing our Classical weekend concert with Emanuel Ax, we were informed that "Mr. G's" plane would be late, so rehearsal today would start late as well. "Mr. G?" Is that like "Mr. T?" As in "I pity the fool that don't think I am the best damn smooth jazz golfer in the WORLD!"

Let's be honest here, people. Stage names USUALLY, though not always, substitute for a very unfortunate real name. As in G for "Gorelick." Yikes. Last summer we played with Clayton Holmes Grissom (Clay Aiken). Actually, the Houston Symphony's Who's Who of unmanageable last names is quite the tongue twister: Anthony Dominick Benedetto (Tony Bennett), Florencia Bisenta de Casillas Martinez Cardona (Vicki Carr). Declan Patrick McManus (Elvis Costello), Vito Farinola (Vic Damone), Henry John Deutschendorf, Jr. (John Denver), Christina Claire Ciminella (Wynonna Judd), Sidney Leibowitz (Steve Lawrence), Rosita Dolores Alverio (Rita Moreno), and Louis Weertz (Roger Williams)...to name a few of the ones that will 'fess up.

Then there are musicians that probably SHOULD take stage names. Check out this link to an album cover from a fairly famous jazz pianist/organist, (stop snickering, are we in Kindergarten?) Dick Hyman.
Reinhold Jockisch was a famous musician from the mid 19th century whose edited string parts are widely used today. On the other side of the coin, we have Arnold George Dorsey, who took a perfectly fine name and decided to mess up data entry workers everywhere by seeking fame as Englebert Humperdinck. Not to be confused with the COMPOSER Englebert Humperdinck, of "Hansel and Gretel" fame, who didn't change his name to Arnold Dorsey, or anything else.

Of course, this blog's descent into the banal would not be complete without the story of colleagues in university music departments that sign up fake students (in honor of one of the oldest running Simpsons gags) to take their yearly final jury exams--just for a little levity when the proctor calls out their names. Ben Dover, Mike Rochitches, and Oliver Klosoff were some of those gems. I'll stop while I'm ahead....or at least only a little behind... and leave you with a few outlets.

I need to get to Macy's anyway- I hear they're having a sale on my favorite bedsheets- from Polo by Ralph Lifchitz (Doesn't exactly conjure up images of genteel English countryside, does it?).

Communism and American Music: a.k.a. I Love a Good Conspiracy Theory

This week we are performing works by two of the most quintessential American composers of all time: Samuel Barber and Aaron Copland. And BTW, that is pronounced “Cope-land,” and is NOT a movie starring Sly Stallone, Harvey Keitel, Robert DeNiro, and Ray Liotta. We’re talking serious, historical, classical music here kids, not a serious, fictional, police corruption/Mafia flick. Though Italians DO figure heavily in both Classical music and Mafia films….hmmm…I’ll leave that one to the true conspiracy theorists.

Speaking of conspiracy theories, here’s some more dish: Because of the "Red Scare" and Congressional and FBI investigations, Copland was blacklisted in the 50’s for being sympathetic to the American Communist Party. Now check this out: the Third Symphony (1946), performed this week, contains in its entirety his brass piece, “Fanfare for the Common Man.” The fanfare was composed in 1942 as a contribution to a series of wartime fanfares commissioned by Eugene Goossens (then conductor of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra). It would later be used to open many Democratic National Conventions, as well as be played at top military funerals and State events. Copland himself said he felt free to recycle it because he never expected the original fanfare to attain such remarkable popularity as it had done. So, the Third Symphony, with its perceived symbolism-- of that of the end of World War II, a successful struggle that had been pursued with idealism and national unity, and which left the country entering a period of new prosperity and new thoughts about itself; that patriotic and heroic piece, was composed by a man who less than a decade later was blacklisted for being a communist and anti-American!! Well, maybe it was the parallels drawn by musicologists between the Third Symphony and Shostakovich’s Symphonies….. and it has been further noted that Copland shared a bit of the Russian composer's fascination with Mahler…..And really, that title: “Fanfare for the Common Man” How Marxist is that?

Now watch if you can, comrades, my deft slight-of-hand, as I weave Samuel Barber into my wacky web: Barber composed one of my favorite violin concertos that we are playing with the amazing virtuostic violinist superstar Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg (eerie music here….she comes from Italian-Russian descent!!!!). His most famous piece is probably the “Adagio for Strings;” like the “Fanfare for the Common Man,” it is also played at many funerals and somber State events! What’s more, here is an excerpt from a letter that he sent his mother at the tender age of nine:

“Dear Mother: I have written to tell you my worrying secret. Now don’t cry when you read it because it is neither yours nor my fault. I suppose I will have to tell it now, without any nonsense. To begin with I was not meant to be an athlete. I was meant to be a composer, and will be I’m sure. I’ll ask you one more thing .—Don’t ask me to try to forget this unpleasant thing and go play football.—Please—Sometimes I’ve been worrying about this so much that it makes me mad (not very).”

NOT PLAY FOOTBALL?!?!?!?! How un-American is that? I bet he even hated apple pie. And here’s one last thing (hey, was that a sigh of relief I heard from the peanut gallery?): Because of his being blacklisted, Copland’s “A Lincoln Portrait” was withdrawn from the 1953 inaugural concert for President Eisenhower. Obviously in support of his Commie comrade, Barber often carried around Lincoln Portraits –cleverly disguised as five dollar bills- in his wallet!!!!!

See ya next time- I’ve got to go put on my aluminum foil helmet against the space aliens. They’re watching, you know.

Back from the wild

Hello suckers...I mean loyal Wavelength subscribers and bloggie guests. The Houston Symphony is back in season. We the musicians have as usual been escaping the heat/ gallivanting around the world since you saw us last, from the grassy plains of Iowa to the volcanic crags of Mount Kilimanjaro.

A good number of Houston Symphony musicians go for 2-3 weeks to the Grand Teton Music Festival. It's a pretty light schedule there, only 4 rehearsals and 2 concerts a week, so come afternoons you can see most of the musicians on a mountain, hopping over streams, sliding down scree, running from grizzlies...One year I remember walking down a very heavily traveled, paved trail to find a group of tourists taking pictures 3 feet away from a baby grizzly. "It's OK," one Hawaiian shirt-clad woman told my rapidly retreating back, "it would've attacked by now, if it was going to." "I don't think its mama cares much about that," I muttered back, reflecting on clueless cityfolk and theories of Darwinism in general.

This year was a VERY good wildlife encounter year for me; by which I mean plenty of viewings not involving scrambling up a tree or crouching to protect my soft tasty underbelly. My dog Stella and I managed to flush out moose (meese? mooses?), foxes, snakes, and most exciting of all, a Great Grey Owl. Fellow Houston Symphony member/violinist Marina and I were hiking up to a mountain called Oliver's Peak when I saw a huge movement to the left of the trail. It was daytime, perfectly sunny and warm, and the owl with her six foot wingspan flew across the trail, paused on a branch not 2 feet from me, assessed my dog for snack potential, (found her wanting) and flew off.

"Can you believe that?" I said excitedly to Marina.
"Believe what? I had a rock in my shoe" she answered.
"...you...you didn't see it?"
"See what?"

Apparently staring at shoes has caused Marina to miss many a sighting. She told me she's missed Rod Stewart standing right next to her in Jackson, Wyoming, because she was fixated on a pair of shoes in the Jackson Bootlegger (dubbed "Bootlicker" by festival musicians).

The Rod Stewart near-sighting was confirmed by the newspaper. It's not unusual to see celebs in Jackson. Many a violist (not naming names) has spent a rehearsal conniving how to get "rescued" by Harrison Ford in his helicopter. Actually, part of the fun of concerts in the Tetons is the "spot the celeb" game. This is usually delivered in a series of urgent whispers in between movements of pieces.

"psst! Robert Wagner, 3rd row center!!"
"You mean the guy sitting next to William Shatner?"
"That's not William Shatner, that's Jon Voight!"
"Really? Maybe....hey look! Edie Falco!! Next to Bob Hope!! Hey, isn't Bob Hope dead?"

I feel sorry for the non-celeb victims of all these unconfirmed sightings. Do they wonder why everyone on stage is staring at them? Do they check their teeth for spinach? The sudden growth of a third eye?

Even better, in my opinion, are guest artists, or conductors that look like famous personalities (though maybe not any more famous than they are in their own minds). Then what you hear, sotto voce in between movements, are things like:

"Hey, I didn't know Colonel Sanders/Bob's Big Boy/Skeletor/David Hasselhoff conducts/plays the piano/violin.."

You know you're not in Houston when...

Greetings from the Big Apple!

It's the time of year for my yearly three week stint at New York University, where I teach and play at a String Quartet seminar. This year, a whole gaggle of Wavelength members/readers/blog contributors have come to see what all the fuss is about. Tonight, as they are attending a New York Philharmonic concert (oh right, that OTHER orchestra), I am putting together their thoughts about the city into electrons for all of you NOT here with us to enjoy.

You know you're not in Houston when...



10. "WALK" means walk, and "DON'T WALK" means haul ass.

9. The weather actually follows the meteorologists' predictions from hour to hour.

8. Aloha! You give your change to a homeless person's Hawaii fund.

7. The public transportation is efficient and you can't make an illegal left turn into it.

6. You plan your outfit according to how many blocks you have to walk.

5. The roaches have roaches.

4. Jaywalking is not a crime, its a way of life.

3. Enchiladas, bad; bagels, good.

2. You can buy a knock-off copy of the fabulous purse that the transvestite hobo is carrying from the street vendor down the block.

1. You call someone a "Symphomaniac" and they deck you.

Hope to see y'all/youse guys next week in Houston at Jones Hall for the Led Zeppelin or Disney concert!

Idol, Part 3: Ima Hogg Competition

Well kids, it's a few hours before the finals of the Houston Symphony Ima Hogg competition. This is the second year we have done it "American-Idol" style, holding the finals in public and letting the audience participate in the voting. Also for the second year, the finalists (four of them) are accompanied by the Houston Symphony during the final round. This was a big hit last year and seems like it will be even bigger this year.

The prizes are not as monetarily big as AI, but are prestigious enough in our small classical world: the first prize winner is given a concert with the Houston Symphony in Jones Hall and a small cash award of $5000. The second prize is given $2,500 and a summer outdoor performance with the Houston Symphony. The third prize is $1,000, no concert, ditto the fourth prize, with a check for $500.

Really, having made it to the finals is a win in itself. Especially now that all finalists get to play the "Finalist" concert with the orchestra, and a good conductor, in an acoustically very nice hall like Rice's Stude Hall. Way better than the underwater muffled sounds of Jones Hall, and way, way better than playing an amplified concert outside at Miller Theatre in the dead heat of a Houston summer.

I can't give my picks out for the winners- I don't want to jinx it. Suffice to say that last year, the orchestra favorite did not win first. We think it was because her piece was not as technically demanding as the person that won first. Which really opens up a can of worms: do you give more points to someone who plays an "easy" piece with great beauty and artistry, or someone who plays a "hard" piece, maybe not as perfectly or beautifully, but give them points for having the cojones to do it in the first place?

This is the big problem with all competitions, any competition. It happens in the Olympics, on American Idol, on Dancing With the Stars.

This year the repertoire played by the four finalists are not as disparate in terms of technicality, it should be interesting to see what happens. I think the big question will be one of instrument popularity. Tune in on KUHF to the live radio broadcast and vote for your favorite on the KUHF website or the HS website!

Legends

The classical music world lost a beloved figure on April 27 with the death of Russian cellist and conductor Mstislav Rostropovich.

Many of us string player types grew up listening to his many recordings. For me, it was his Tchaikovsky "Variations on a Roccoco Theme." Later on, I not only had the pleasure of playing in an orchestra where he was the soloist, but working with him as a conductor (he was the conductor, I was the violist).

In 1990, I was the only American representing Germany in the "Deutsches-Sowietisches Jungendorchester (German-Soviet Youth Orchestra)," in a residency in Portugal collaborating with the Kirov Ballet. Slava was the conductor and part-producer of this production of Prokoviev's Romeo and Juliet. The shows took place in an ancient Roman amphitheater just over the Spanish border in Badajoz. The orchestra was seated on stage behind the action. Because of that (or because of some sadistic/manic Russian costumer), we had to wear these really hot and heavy monk's robes. Another crazy thing about the production was that the dress rehearsals had to take place at 2:30 a.m. "Because of the heat..the dancers...your robes..." was the reason we were given. It seemed strange at the time, but not necessarily much stranger than many things seem when you are in your early 20's. I remember on the day (night?) before the dress rehearsal we were advised to go to bed early so we could be rested in time to get up and meet the bus at 1 a.m. Apparently no one told Slava this, because he started wandering around at 9 PM looking for musicians to have a rehearsal with. Or go drinking with, I can't remember..it's all a vodka soaked blur at this point.

There were a few things that stick in my mind about the first performance. The last note of the piece is one chord that is held for a few minutes. Us monks were astonished though when our beloved Slava stopped conducting right at the beginning of the note, walked downstage to the inert bodies of Romeo and Juliet (who had died within inches of each other, arms outstretched towards each other but not touching), grabbed their hands and clasped them together on his knee, his head bowed over it, to tumultuous applause. This way, way, over-the-top melodramatic moment was diminished a few moments later when a section of the super-duper VIP (read: countesses and such) seating collapsed into the ancient subterranean Roman gladiator waiting rooms over which it had been shoddily constructed. For a moment the Maestro was confused, thinking the screams were ones of approval and adoration, but sadly, they were screams of panic and trampling.

Luckily, no one was seriously hurt and the production continued its run to huge, un-collapsing crowds and greater adulations.

Toot our own Glayvin!!

At the end of a concert, unless things have gone horribly, horribly wrong, there are usually three curtain calls. The first (technically a bow and not a curtain call), happens at the conclusion of the last note of the evening. Ideally, as the reverberations die away, there is an expectant silence because you, the audience are so entranced by the mood that we, the performers, have created, that it takes a while for you to come back to the real world. Inevitably though, there is someone that is either so bursting with enthusiasm, or has ants in the pants /“Jimmy legs,” or just wants a solo of his own (I say “his” not in the standard sense of saying “his” for “anyone’s”, but because it really always is a man)..and breaks the silence early by screaming “BRAVO!!”

The conductor, flinging the sweat from his brow, wearily but with an air of immense satisfaction, will turn to the audience to acknowledge his rightful due, and then motions for the entire orchestra to stand.

That is the first.

The second occurs after the conductor has walked off stage and then on stage again. This is usually where sections or individual players are given special recognition. The first horn, the first flute, trombone, concertmaster…all people who individually contributed solos in some form or another that were an integral part of the performance.

The third can happen in a variety of ways. Sometimes, the conductor comes out, and motions the whole orchestra to stand again. This is a very delicate point, because it is at this moment that what most conductors REALLY expect is the orchestra to do is stay seated and motion to him; in effect saying “no, really, it’s all due to your genius that you we sounded good...please, take a solo bow…you deserve it.” And sometimes we DO mean that very sentence, and sometimes we don’t. Not the least bit. But in any case, after the fake-polite “no, you’re great” “no, STOP, it’s YOU that are great” back-and-forth, the conductor usually does get sections of the orchestra to stand again.


This time around, it is often the wind or brass sections that elicit hoots and hollers from the audience. By the time the string section stands up (last), there are no more special hoots, bravos, yays, or anything. And therein lies the problem.

You see, we are usually the only section that has been playing THE WHOLE TIME. We have more notes. WE are the bulk of the orchestra. We may not have had that beautiful mournful death tune in the second movement, or the brave hero hunting theme in the last, but we have sat there during the last two and a half hours gamely sawing away while our non string colleagues counted rests and waited for their scant moments of glory. And when we don’t hear a rise in the cheering when we-- the guts, the heart, of the orchestra stands—well, it just plain hurts.

Some string players in other orchestras actually shout “BRAVO” as they stand up, just to give the audience a little hint. We in the viola section tried that for a week, then realized that really, it’s all about the noise you make, so now in the words of Professor Frink on the Simpsons, we stand, smile, and shout “GLAYVIN!!”

Idol, Part 2: Kiju, the Violin Playing Girl

As promised, think American Idol, only nerdier, and with a happy ending......here is her take on her audition to win the job at the Houston Symphony...written by our newest violinist, Kiju Joh, who comes to us from Chicago.

Check out the comments from the last blog- we may have (though you never know on line, do you) attracted commentary from the subject of the last blog, one of the hosts of "America's Hot Musician." You be the judge!!

Also, speaking of my cat being able to play the piano, here is a great video of Nora, the Piano Playing Cat.

From Kiju:

I must start off by admitting that I never thought I would actually get this job, much less any job! Even though I had gained a sense of routine and familiarity of the audition process through taking many auditions, the audition experience still never got easier.

Generally in auditions, I have to deal with the stress that I bring upon myself, which in itself is enough. It could be triggered by a simple case of nerves or anxiety over the audition repertoire. i.e. “I hope they don’t ask for that excerpt” or “I hope that I nail that really fast and high run in Don Juan!” If on top of that, an audition is poorly run, it only adds to the stress level. It makes it more difficult to focus on the task at hand, which is simply just to perform my very best.

(The basic rundown of the audition is this: you see the ad for the position in a trade paper. you write away for the list of music (excerpts) the orchestra wants to hear, and then the next month or so of your life, and those living with you, is a living hell. When you arrive at the audition, there are usually 3 rounds that eliminate people as they go higher. During the first round, you may play as little as 3 minutes before being permanently dismissed, which can be very disappointing after spending all that time and money on airfare and hotel!! By the time/if you get to the final round, the committee (comprised of 7 musicians and the conductor) is asking for more music and may have you play with other members of the orchestra, or sightread some unfamiliar music. My feeling has always been that by the time you get to the finals, it is just a question of if your style fits the orchestra for which you are auditioning.--Rita)

In Houston, the staff running the audition was very helpful and friendly, which automatically put me at ease. I really appreciated the amount of time that I had in my own private warm-up room (or in some cases, practice room!), which was an extremely generous amount of 25-30 minutes as opposed to the 5-10 minutes which I was given in other auditions. This allowed me ample time to decompress and refocus in a less hectic setting. On top of that, everything was running pretty much on schedule, which meant that I didn’t have to wait a long time and get tired or cold before stepping on stage to play. These small details, in total, made a huge difference.

I spoke to some of the staff running the audition afterwards, and they informed me that they also had been through the grind of taking many auditions. Having their own audition experiences allowed them to offer us the comforts, considerations and conveniences that they would have hoped for or expected themselves.

Besides the actual audition experience itself, I was especially impressed with events that happened afterwards. After finding out that I was offered the position, I was immediately introduced to some of the audition committee, the general manager, and even the music director. It was very late at night, and I was aware that they had to sit through almost six hours of auditions in addition to having attended two long rehearsals earlier that day. Despite a very long and arduous day, they still stuck around and took the time to welcome and congratulate me.

Everyone in the symphony whom I have met so far has been so friendly and warm. I was taken out on very nice welcome lunches, invited to attend a symphony concert, and I’ve even been offered help in finding places to live when I move down in the spring. Rita has especially been one of my biggest supporters of getting this position. I was so happy that she was there to share this exciting experience with me! I am very much looking forward to becoming a part of this amazing group!

Idol, part 1

Are you an American Idol junkie? I have days when I can watch it and days when I can't. Sometimes it is just a little TOO painful. Like the prelims, when the show's producers decide that bad talent makes for good TV. Especially painful this season were those two guys from Seattle. (Speaking of painful, what happened to that Hung guy? ) Is it just plain old human nature rearing its ugly head when the most popular entertainment is showcasing the misfortunate/pathetically untalented/embarassing/misfits of society? Ah, for the good old days of gladiators and court jesters. Eh? Lion's den anyone?

I just found out about a new "Idol"-like show that started on Youtube but is now going to be aired on Comcast channels like O!xygen across the country. It is called "America's Hot Musician." Like American Idol, but for instrumentalists. I heard that a colleaugue from the National Symphony in D.C. has just signed on as the third judge. Thank God for that-after viewing just the first episode (with mounting horror) on Youtube, I came to at least two conclusions: 1) with only two judges, the voting process is severely flawed; and 2)sounding like Randy Jackson does not make you a Randy Jackson. The producer/judge/Randy Jackson counterpart, Gregory Charles Royal on the show SEEMS to have decent credentials but lost all credibility with me when he passed on to the next round a tone-deaf guitarist with the words "you just need to be relaxed, I want you to come back." My cat could tune the guitar better than that guy. And the first season Judge no.2, a mid-west high school music teacher(!?!?!?!), former Miss Minnesota Kari Heisler, is certainly no Paula Abdul, though at least she voted no on the tone deaf guy (it only takes one vote to get passed to the next round-see above conclusions). But it doesn't matter, because if you come on time, are breathing and can sit upright for at least 30 seconds on this show, you get passed on by Charles "I got my limits, I got my limits" Royal who must be desperate, really, really really really desperate for material.

Simon Cowell, where are you?

The winners get a recording contract- which in this day of Garage Band and cheap digital home studios, doesn't seem like such a prize. But hey, everyone's gotta have their Warhol 15 minutes, and given the wealth of reality programming, I mean EVERYONE.

Tune in next week for a segment of real competition in the Classical music world, where the prize is a job in a major symphony orchestra. No- not some kind of nerdy "Apprentice," but a real account of the audition to win the latest violin opening at the Houston Symphony, written by the winner.

The story is...

Ever notice when you go to the movies, theater, opera, or even symphony, that certain themes get repeated? For example: boy meets girl, boy gets girl, girl decides she wants nothing to do with boy and becomes a pro wrestler... Someone said (besides me) that there really are only four stories that get told , with variations, over and over.

I'm a believer in this theory, which also works for most chord progressions. Especially in pop music. Basically you only need to know three chords on the guitar to play 75% of what's out there. The challenge for the performer/interpreter is to make the variations interesting, and for the listener to figure out which songs have exactly the same chords so you can segue from one song to another and back. It's a fun game!! We do it all the time in rehearsal. It's bad if you're one of those people that get tunes stuck in your head for days though, like me. After the last Bruckner concert, I had "Try to Remember" from "The Fantasticks" running around in my head for a week. Crap, it's there now.

Here's a great story by Mandy, a wavelength blog reader and a new student of mine!! It goes with the Concerto for Viola by JC Bach/Casadesus

Her first assigment with me actually was to write a story of what she thought the first movement said to her, and then to try and communicate that on her viola. I found the story totally genius!!

Once upon a time, a woman loved a man. John, the typical hero, stood tall with muscles bulging from his shirt and a girl always on his side. There was one girl who followed him more than most girls, and her beauty outshone her weird-stalkerish personality. The beautiful girl, Cassidy, also had numerous men on her side, but like most girls, Cassidy enjoyed the chase and went for the only boy in town who didn’t like her: John.

Their conversations took place as follows: “Oh, I am the man and I can do it all!”
“I love you! I love you! Oh, I love you!”
“I don’t care because you are a stalker!”
“I love you! I love you! Oh, I love you! I just want to know one thing!”
“Let me hear it. Just let me hear it!”
“Why don’t you love me?”
“You’re a weird stalkerish freak”
“But I am beautiful and would do anything for you for the rest of time!”
“I don’t know, don’t know, don’t know, don’t know.
“ I love you, I love you!!! I just love you, I love you!”
“I will marry you with one condition: that you don’t stalk me anymore!”
“Ok, I can do that! It won’t be too hard! I’m John’s wife!”

They were soon married, but their egocentric personalities clashed which caused discord and atonal melodic lines.

One day, Cassidy, while on her weekly grocery run, had a terrible daydream when returning from the store. She dreamed of John and having kids but then strife! John was cheating on her with her sister! She ran back to the house, yelled, screamed and hit John with all her might, but he assured that he, in fact, did not love her sister but loved her more than anything, even his muscles. Cassidy kept her promise and did not stalk John anymore. Her sister was ugly anyway. They had ten kids and grew old together. By the time they were eighty, they often reminisced about their younger years, but because they were old and forgot, they often argued about what actually took place. Their one final argument ended both of their lives, but their love still lives on (in crazy young lovers).