Crossroads

A week ago I wrote a post with a pile of tear-soaked kleenexes as I mourned the death of my boss, Jeff. Now, I still mourn, but more than that, I simply miss his presence. I miss my job, I miss the routine that I at first resisted but came to appreciate, and I miss the daily chats my boss and I shared in the office.

The past week seems like an eternity as I sorted through mounds of papers, bills, documents alone in the office. A court-appointed attorney came to take care of client files, but since I was coming into the office everyday anyway, he happily handed over the task of organizing and distributing client files to me, while remaining available for consultation and legal counsel from his own office.

I went to the hospital meet Jeff's daughter for the first time and she lay weak in her hospital bed, fresh out of the ICU. It was hard to meet the precious little 10-yr.-old knowing she and her 3 siblings would never see their dad again.

At the funeral home visitation the next night I stood in line with the gossiping private school clique of parents Jeff would've rolled his eyes at, as I waited my turn to say a final goodbye to him in the open casket. At the funeral I played the emotional piece "Gabriel's Oboe" from the movie "The Mission" and heard sniffles in the audience. The stirring piece was fitting; I had just performed it a few days earlier, the day I heard the news of the accident. The melancholy music, stuck in my head on repeat, had comforted me in the few days afterwards.

So now I have reached another crossroads. I was the secretary/assistant to a self-employed lawyer with his own firm and by losing my boss, I have lost my job. But, in addition to the tremendous support I received from friends and members of church who let me know they were thinking and praying for me, Jeff's friends and clients have been more than supportive of me as well. Some of them even offered to write me a letter of recommendation or talk to someone about a job for me.

I have a new lead in another law firm or two, and because I now have a tiny amount of experience as a legal secretary (5 weeks, to be exact) and enjoy the work so far, have decided to try staying in this field first. As for yoga, I missed the two courses last week because of all the events. Tomorrow starts a new "session", meaning paying for 8 new classes, but unless I'm allowed to make up the 2 classes I missed last week, I think further yoga classes will be on hold until I can secure a new job.

Tomorrow I meet with Jeff's ex-wife in the office, presumably being joined at some point by yet another attorney, one she's hired to help with probate and the execution of the will. (Note: There was no will found which had been updated since their divorce, meaning she remains executor thereof. The children, however, will be the beneficiaries, and not she directly, which his friends were worried about - was a big scandal...). Tomorrow I will find out if she wants me to come into the office anymore to help or if she will take over.

Also, tomorrow I will have to bring up the uncomfortable subject of money. Everyone I've talked to, from our court-appointed attorney to Jeff's businessmen and doctor friends, to my parents, has told me to make sure that I am paid for the last two weeks of work, one being the week before Jeff passed away. I'm hoping Jeff's ex-wife will approach the subject of his estate paying me as it is so awkward to bring up.

Speaking of money matters, I just played a gig yesterday and was paid $45 less than the agreed-upon figure. I debated if I should call and say anything or let it go, but think I will call. After all, it's the difference of $15 for three services. It's just so awkward to bring up and I always feel like a greedy little opportunist when having to address such topics. I guess not awkward enough to drop it, though - every dollar counts these debt-filled days!

In unrelated news, I did something quite out of the ordinary for myself yesterday: I ran my first ever 5k race. Well, calling it a race knowing full well I was not intending to compete is misleading. It was a memorial walk/run for a woman in our community, and more specifically, from our church, who had been hit by a drunk driver while doing one of her favorite hobbies: jogging. The walk/run has taken place the past 3 years to remember her.

Now a day later, my legs are quite sore. I have generally always despised running and after giving it a try at different points in my life, always come back to the same conclusion. It didn't necessarily feel good to run yesterday, though the weather couldn't have been better, but my mom and I determinedly set our slow, but sure pace and made it to the end, feeling quite pleased with ourselves. Once I recover from the pain, we actually intend to try a slightly shortened version of the course and go a little faster to see how far we can push ourselves before collapsing to the ground... But, maybe I'll just stick with yoga.

In Loving Memory

It was my first job as a secretary/assistant to anyone before. It didn't matter; you patiently helped me when I needed it. You thanked me for every letter I typed, for every task I completed for you. You praised me after a hard week, you even talked of putting me in a position of more responsibility beyond the secretary realm: You believed in me in a business world I had never ventured into before.

You took the time to get to know me, you joked and smiled when a situation could've been stressful. You took me out for a weekly drink each Friday after work. You confided in me. You were more than a boss; you were a friend.

Your four young children loved you. I had never met them, but felt like I had from all the stories you told. You were a loving father and it was evident with the smile on your face as you described their individual talents and personalities. Your heart was big; you loved to give.
__________

I don't know if I can go into the office tomorrow sort through files, answer the phone of yet unknowing clients, and try to organize what seems insurmountable. My heart already aches because of your absence. It will still seem surreal and I will forget, thinking you will walk in the door any second. It will truly be one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I will do the work and sit in your office with honor, missing you, thinking of you, only God giving me courage and strength to get through it.

In my eyes and the eyes of your friends, your family, your business colleagues and clients, this is a tragedy. But our time on earth is short; our earthly bodies are temporary. I know God will do good work and show his love even in this hard situation, which he has already begun to do. He will protect and guide your children. You were their earthly father, but he is their heavenly father and he loves them.

Thank you for our five weeks together. It was too short, but I will never forget you. Today at the concert, I played for you.
___________

In loving memory of my boss, Jeff, who tragically died yesterday after losing control of his car. All four children were in the car. One was hurt, but will survive with the others.

The Passive Midwesterner

I rushed to get out of the office early, hoping to still make the 4:05 yoga class. With no more than filing on the schedule today, my boss had given me permission to leave a half hour earlier.

I rinsed out the coffee pot, straightened my desk and locked the door behind me, happy not to have to wait around till the 5:30 yoga class. I still needed to make a important stop at the post office, but after glancing at the clock, figured I could still make it to yoga, if a few minutes late. After finding my car in the parking ramp and swiping my card to get out, I was on my way to the post office in no time.

Once I pushed open the post office door, however, I realized it would take a miracle to make the 4:05 yoga. The line behind a counter of three very slow and very chatty postal workers stretched out in a long snake before me. Resolving to simply relax and take the 5:30 class, I sighed and waited.

Just then a woman in front of me turned around, gesturing to someone. She waved again, and another woman appeared next to her. It looked like they were together, on the same mission, so no one seemed to mind. The situation soon changed, however, after Lady #1 went up to the counter alone and Lady #2 remained in the line for the next available postal worker. I could hear mutterings behind me about "cutting in line." As Lady #2 advanced to the counter, the murmurings grew louder. I turned around to see a woman clearly sharing with a man in line how "rude it is to sneak up in line just because you see someone you know."

I sided completely with this perspective, also finding this to be dubious behavior by the two lady friends and in quite poor taste. But as I was tired and already resigned to the fact I was missing early yoga, I decided not to make an issue of it. Besides, the disgruntled woman behind me would surely speak out...or would she?

In Germany no one has qualms about speaking their mind and 'line cutting' is one of the deadliest sins possible, so such an event would certainly not have been ignored. But the "friendly Midwestern American" mentality of not stirring up trouble, and waiting until the last possible minute to voice an opinion if it could make him or her seem rude or mean, meant the disgruntled woman behind me yakked on an on to her neighbor, but didn't have the guts to simply confront the perpetrator. As I listened the babbling woman, ranting on about the indecency of it all, the words "JUST TELL HER TO HER FACE!" were on the tip of my tongue, but I decided against playing the mediator this time.

Usually I am the one to say something; to keep people in check when something is obviously disruptive to others, or to honk at the many terrible drivers we seem to have in NW Iowa. But today I felt I owed the passive Midwesterners to keep my mouth shut. After all, I had just faced a similar situation myself.

Just as I was driving to the post office, I accidentally drove in one of the confusing "do not enter" driveways going in and out of the parking lot. The little one-way path re-routed me back onto the busy street, where I was subsequently blocking a car from being able to pull in, thus blocking traffic on both sides.

As I sat there, not knowing if I should pull out and cause an accident with the other passing cars or continue to sit there and block cars from both sides, I mouthed a big "SORRY" to both sides and crept out cautiously, forcing cars to either slow down or drive around me as I eventually found the correct entrance. Despite the momentary chaos I had just managed to create, not a single person honked at me. No one even gave me a dirty look (or finger), even if they were muttering, "Just go, idiot" under their breath.

Passivity may be a thorn in the Midwesterner's side in some cases, but when it means being spared by them instead of being yelled at, knowing full well you deserve it, I suppose it isn't such a bad thing after all!

Note: I'm not talking about Chicago or any other big city in the Midwest. I don't know about 'line cutting,' but the drivers there certainly aren't as forgiving!

Whew..

Our symphony concert last night ended a week filled with 15-hour days of work, yoga, and long, intense evening rehearsals. It was great playing all week, but it was certainly strenuous.

Our principal conductor was back for the week of rehearsals after being away at her impressive list of worldwide guest-conducting assignments. Before last week, I had only played principal oboe under her baton once, which was last October. Since then we've had our assistant conductor do all the concerts in between. Feeling more than a little nervous to play Brahms 1 with this conductor-extraordinaire, I came to the first rehearsal with much trepidation. Luckily that feeling passed as the week progressed and I was able to fully immerse myself in the music, enjoying the highly-concentrated rehearsals.

I was also excited to be able to use my new mini-disk recorder to record the rehearsals and hear how I sounded with the orchestra, as a learning tool. So I set up the mini-disk recorder and microphone on a stand in the audience after our personnel manager nicely offered to oversee the equipment during the rehearsal.

After the rehearsal, I was curious and impatient to hear how the recording had turned out, so I quickly retrieved the recorder and put my headphones on to listen. After pressing play, I waited, but there was no sound. How strange. Finally I heard something; it was the faint sound of a distant orchestra far in the background. The orchestra sounded as if it were miles away. Puzzled, I wondered if I had accidentally adjusted the settings wrong, or set the microphone on the wrong angle, but surely that wouldn't made such a difference. I strained to listen to the melodious, yet ever-so-soft strings, pushing the headphones closer to my ears. Just then, I jumped, pulling the headphones away from my ears as I heard myself, the oboe, come in very loud and clear just in time to play the solo in the 2nd movement.

Baffled, I let the other oboist and the personnel manager listen to the strange recording. We all laughed in amazement at the ability of this little machine to zero in on the solo instrument when the rest of the orchestra sounded like it was coming from another room, eons away. My oboist colleague marvelled at the fact the recording even picked up my breath before the solo. How was it possible? Unable to let the mystery go unsolved, once in the car, I put on the headphones again.

Then, I had it. I remembered recording myself at home, playing with an accompanying Brahms 1 CD recording. The volume of the CD I was playing along with had been relatively low, which accounted for the ever-so-distant-sounding orchestra. It was just pure coincidence that the material I had recorded at home happened to be the exact place where our personnel manager had started recording our live rehearsal, throwing us all off. The next night we all had a good laugh about it. While amused, I also felt moderately embarrassed for forgetting about the pre-recorded material and more so, perhaps, for leaving a dead battery in the microphone which meant for none of the rehearsal actually being recorded! Luckily, on the third try and with freshly charged batteries, I was able to record the dress rehearsal.

With the concert last night behind us, the orchestra won't meet again until next month for an all Beethoven event, with our principal conductor back once again to end the season series. I found out last week that there will be an official audition for the principal oboe chair next month as well. I have never officially auditioned for this position and am curious to see what the outcome will be, as well as if any other local oboists will try out.

After debating the pros and cons of staying here versus seriously considering the nanny option, I have come to the conclusion that if I win the job with this orchestra, it may be worth it to stay home for another year. With that, I could continue my day job, while gaining more experience as principal oboist. Not only that, but I have also made it to the sub-lists of South Dakota and Omaha symphonies.

If I tried to start over working as a nanny in some suburb of NYC, who knows what kind of orchestral playing I could find; if there were even any openings in small, project-based type ensembles, or even if the family routine would be conducive to me leaving for gigs once in awhile. As a nanny, I would also have to have an earning potential better than my current job (which isn't great, but a start) to make a move and a new beginning worthwhile. The current musical experience I am gaining here is priceless, but comes with the downside I've always resented about this area: a lack of city life and outdoor, nature possibilities.

This brings back the realization that I might live at home for another year (gasp). Certainly not what I would imagined a year ago, but then, when does life follow a predictable course? Encouraging has been meeting several musicians not much older than myself in the area who have all experienced the same thing I am going through right now: Student debt, day-jobs, and simply waiting for a musical opportunity to come up. All of them have found teaching and playing opportunities, but not without a little patience first.

And with that, I am off to enjoy one of the few warm spring days, meeting a friend for a bike ride. With the weather so fickle this year, even leaving us with a layer of snow this past week, I am ready to take advantage of the sunny, blue skies, sans white fluff...

The Pain of it All

I stretched, I twisted, I breathed deeply...(I pulled a few muscles...)

I ended up signing up for yoga and yesterday was my first class.

I'd never taken yoga before, but as I wrote in the last post, after taking yoga-esque "Healthy Back" and "Breathing and Moving" classes in Berlin, I was fairly prepared for the type of things we did in yoga. It turned out to be a good decision to sign up for the 10-class session. It relaxed me so much that I felt like jelly walking up the stairs of the parking ramp to my car afterwards.
Today, however, I felt the fruits of my labor in the form of barely being able to move my stiff arms... But, I'm going back tomorrow and am excited to make some progress. I'd be especially happy if the muscles in my abs decide to work as hard as my arms and legs.

My life has gone from pretty uneventful to surprisingly full, however I suppose a better word than "full" would be "normal", unless I was just comparing myself to fellow unemployed couch-warmers in the months before my full-time employment.

So while I hadn't worked at my job at the department store selling fine jewelry in almost 2 months, I was called in to close for someone tonight. I am "on call" and get to keep my 25% store discount as long as I am still employed, no matter how few hours a month. So today I worked all day for the attorney, had a quick break involving some puny nuggets at Chick Fillet for dinner, and went on to straighten gold chains and wash glass cases (though I did sell a watch) for the rest of the evening at the mostly-dead department store.

Tomorrow I will continue my yoga-ways by going to class after work and then I will finally be playing my oboe again in a rehearsal for a Easter Sunday church gig. After Easter, next week will start the rehearsals for our next symphony concert where we're playing Brahms 1. Any oboist knows to appreciate the solos in this symphony for principal oboe, as they are also very important excerpts used in many orchestral auditions. Not only is Brahms one of my favorite composers, I am excited about the opportunity to play this piece. I hate to admit that I've turned into a music graduate, 8-5 day-job type who doesn't practice anymore, so I won't. But, I do feel that if I don't make more of an effort to make practicing a part of the new routine, everything I worked so hard for could fade quickly! Luckily after tomorrow there should be plenty of time to get back into shape before the symphony rehearsals begin.

I know in Germany, many orchestras have practice rooms in their Philharmonie/Konzerthaus buildings where their musicians can practice during the day, or teach lessons. The giant building where we perform symphony concerts is right around the corner from my job, and has tons of dressing- and warm-up rooms. I would be curious to find out if I would ever be allowed to practice there during the day, for example, between work and yoga. If even for a half hour, it's better than wasting my time otherwise.

This weekend we had some special guests. Bethany and her boyfriend Jan came to visit us in Iowa. Bethany is studying horn in Hamburg, and Jan comes from Hamburg originally. They're at home visiting her family in Wisconsin, but made the long 8 1/2 hour trip in a rental car to visit for a few days.

The last time I saw Bethany, we were looking for apartments for her in Hamburg in August while she was still sick, but recovering, from her nerve syndrome and was in physical rehab. She had been allowed to leave the clinic for the weekend in order to apartment hunt, but she was still very weak: She had limited feeling in her legs and feet, and couldn't do much physical activity. Since then, she has recovered fully and is doing great which is a real blessing, especially since the doctors didn't know what the outcome would be.

It was really nice to spend time with her again, as well as Jan, and show them a little bit of life in NW Iowa. This included going to the pet store and looking at puppies (now I really am over my puppy obsession), shopping American-style at the mall, eating a tasty Mexican meal, and getting a few drinks at a local dig. It's good to know that the even the ocean can't halt a good friendship.

While the sky pelted us silly with rain and hail all day Saturday (and who'd have known we actually had 2 umbrellas hiding in the trunk), Sunday proved a bit better and so we ventured out for a walk with my parents. Since then, however, winter has come back. It's the beginning of April, but one would never know because of the freezing winds just short of a snowy blizzard. The couple faux warm spring days we had in March were just enough to make us Iowans complain that summer was coming too quickly, so I suppose we all deserve it....