Tag Archives: Musicals

The Music Man

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Outtakes 187

 

The Music Man

by Cait Collins

 

When someone says, “I’m a writer,” what is your immediate response? Perhaps you ask, “What do you write?” Meaning do you write poetry, science fiction, romance? But what if someone said, “I write songs?”

Song writers, or lyricists, are prolific writers. They pen some of the most beautiful works.

I can’t imagine not having musicals like Carousel. Camelot, Evita, Phantom of the Opera, Cats. And what about the songs of Neil Diamond, Enya, Gordon Lightfoot, Alan Jackson, Toby Keith, Simon and Garfunkel, and Taylor Swift.

Song writers are story tellers. Their works employ some of the same structure as a novelist or screenwriter would use. Think about it. A vocal piece has a beginning, middle, and an end. For example listen to a good old somebody -done –somebody-wrong song. It goes something like this. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, but along comes Mr. Heartbreak and the relationship starts to fall apart. Boy decides he loves the girl enough to let her go. Heartbroken, he watches her marry the other guy. In a three and a half minute song, you have a romantic story of love and loss.

Good song writing contains vivid images, scents, tastes, and touches. The Canadian Railroad Trilogy written by Gordon Lightfoot begins with images of majestic mountains, virgin forests, and builds to the laddies swinging hammers, and the first trains making their way across the country. Close your eyes when listening to a favorite song and “see” the words. View it like a movie short, and you will soon realize the enormous talent and craftsmanship of the writer.

Grizabella remembers a time knowing happiness in Memory from Cats. The Fiddler languishes If I Were a Rich Man. Evita begs Don’t Cry for Me Argentina. And the Phantom composes The Music of the Night. And we all remember the words. We sing or hum along with the singers remembering our own experiences and emotions. Long after the stage lights dim, we remember how lyrics touch us. The songs become a part of us. A tear slips down a cheek, or a smile softens features when we hear the opening notes of a beloved song. And the song writer takes his place among the select who call themselves “writers”.

FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD

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Outtakes 180

 

FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD

By Cait Collins

 

I love the holidays. The hustle and bustle, social events, end-of-the-school-term concerts make me happy. But there is one thing I hate…food, glorious food.

I’m not officially on a diet, but I am trying to watch what and how much I eat. I definitely do not want to gain back the ten pounds I lost last fall. So what do you do when everywhere you look there is food?

It’s so unfair. Your co-workers bring goodies from their kitchens and let you know to help yourself. If you don’t partake, feelings are hurt. However, if I eat, my backside suffers. Is there no middle ground?

This is a sampling of the holiday feasting.

It started before Thanksgiving with a food day at work. I don’t remember the menu, but I do recall the table being overloaded and the team eating from the start of the day to the end of the shift.

Then there was family Thanksgiving at the church building. (The kitchen is bigger than at any of our homes and we can all sit together.) Let’s see, turkey, lots of turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, dressing, salad, pickles, olives, dinner rolls, candied yams, desserts; more food than any of us could or should eat. We all took leftovers home.

December rolled around and the parties started. My sister’s jewelry party provided chips, dips, crackers and cream cheese spread, apple slices, grapes, pineapple chunks.

A shopping trip ended in dinner out with two of my nephews. Shrimp was a great change of pace. The congregation’s holiday adult party was catered. I could not eat everything on my plate. Nor could I sample all the home cooked brunch fare the morning after the party. And we brown-bagged dinner the night we filled the holiday baskets for our shut-ins.

Family Christmas dinner was early so that we could all be together before kids left to spend the holiday with their dads. The scent of Mexican food filled the church fellowship hall as we scarffed enchiladas, tamales, queso and chips, fajitas, and desserts.

The day before my vacation began we celebrated our short association with co-workers from our Manila office. The tables in the conference room were loaded with Mexican food. Everything from queso to taco soup tempted the stomach.

My sisters and I celebrated December birthdays with Cheryl’s famous chicken salad sandwiches, chips, and ice cream. Then I joined my in-laws for filet minion on Christmas Eve. Janet made stew on Christmas day, and New Year’s Eve, we waited for the end of 2014 with snacks and desserts. New Year’s day, I spent quietly eating grilled chicken and black-eyed peas.

Man, was I glad to see the holidays end.

You’d think the New Year would bring an end to the obsession with food. Not so my friends. The food train continues to roll with homemade goodies making their way to the food cube at work. And on Friday, there is another food day.

Mexican food.

Again.

I raise my eyes heavenward. “Please, Lord, make it stop,” I beg. “I’ve had enough of food, glorious food.”

In the musical Oliver, Oliver and his friends sang of Food, Glorious Food because he and the other orphans were starving. I complain because there’s too much of a good thing. The point is anything you dream can be a story.