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Monthly Archives: July 2025

Saxophone Lessons

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Downtown Cleveland When I Was Young

At the time I agreed to take saxophone lessons, not only did I not know what a saxophone was, but I had no idea I would have to spend hours each week “practicing.” I wanted to play a trombone, but the music store salesman saw the look in my parents’ eyes and said something to the effect that I had the wrong kind of teeth for blowing into a trombone. It worked: He made the sale.

My music teacher was Jack Upson, who had a studio on East 4th Street, almost in the dead center of the postcard image above. (The tall building was the Terminal Tower, at that time the tallest building in the U.S. outside of New York City.)

Every week, I took the 56A bus downtown. It let me off at Prospect and Ontario. From there, I walked two blocks or so to Jack Upson’s studio.

Truth to tell, I never liked the saxophone as a musical instrument. The moisture from my mouth formed a gooey discharge that made the reed of the sax very mucky after a while. What I did enjoy was being downtown on my own. I would eat lunch at Woolworth’s lunch counter, walk around a bit, and hang out at Schroeder’s book store on Public Square.

I started playing the sax at age nine and quit at age eighteen, when I went out of town to college. Seeing that my parents weren’t there to force me to practice, I just quit playing altogether. I was no good at it anyway; and it was no fun playing an instrument only because my mother and father liked it. More importantly, I didn’t like it.

Pain(e)sville

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Writer Harlan Ellison (1934-2018)

He’s from the same part of the world from which I hail. Painesville, the county seat of Lake County, is some 30 miles northeast of Cleveland. He has been called a science fiction writer, a designation which he (rightfully) hates. It’s more speculative fiction, with an emphasis on the short story form.

The man from Painesville was known for being something of a pain. His obituary in the Los Angeles Times remarks:

Over the years, Ellison has been described as fiercely independent, vengeful, sardonic, opinionated, confrontational, foul-mouthed, petulant, infuriating, defiant and a general all-around nuisance—as well as engaging, gregarious, funny, fastidiously organized and generous to his friends.

By his own measure, he was “a hard pill to swallow.”

He is gone, with all his objectionable behavior, but his stories remain. And they are well worth reading. I suggest you try one of the following collections:

  • I have No Mouth and I Must Scream (1967)
  • The Beast That Shouted Love at the Heart of the World (1969)
  • Approaching Oblivion (1974)
  • Deathbird Stories (1975)
  • Shatterday (1980)

You might also want to try reading the sci-fi story collection he edited in 1967 entitled Dangerous Visions.

Although he will be remembered as much for being a prickly character as a brilliant writer, I think that over time the latter will replace the former in the estimation of readers.

Certain

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Daily writing prompt
List 10 things you know to be absolutely certain.
View all responses
  1. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  2. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  3. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  4. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  5. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  6. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  7. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  8. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  9. Nothing is absolutely certain.
  10. Nothing is absolutely certain.

Fun With Sharks

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Great White Shark

It all started last year when the National Geographic Channel put on their annual SharkFest. There s something so beautiful, yet so menacing about these predators of the sea that I am enthralled.

When I first moved to Los Angeles, I used to love going to the beach and going in the water. Some ten years ago, I stopped going—mostly because the ocean was getting more polluted, and my blepharitis began bothering me increasingly during the summers.

Although I never encountered a shark in the water, I was always conscious of the life in the ocean. There were all the large strands of kelp and, from time to time, dead fish.

I live only two miles from the beach, but I have yet to visit the sands of Santa Monica Bay this year. When it gets hot, I do go to Chace Park in the Marina to enjoy the sea breeze while picnicking and reading. There I get the smell of the sea and also get to watch the sea lions and gulls the alight on the shore.

As for the sharks, I would rather see them on television. No in-person shark encounters for me!

Dropping Off to Sleep

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Before I retired, I had difficulty falling asleep. That was primarily because, in all my jobs, my bosses were megalomaniacs who were experts at fomenting stress in their work force.

Then something interesting happened. It suddenly became cheap and easy to go downtown. The opening of the Expo Line (now the E-train) from Santa Monica to the L.A. Financial District. I wasted no time in getting a senior citizen TAP card, which meant I could whiz downtown in 45 minutes for a mere 35¢ each way.

One Thursday, I went to the Central Library at 5th & Spring Streets. I noticed that there was a free half hour mindful meditation session at 12:30 PM in one of the two meeting rooms. I attended and suddenly things seemed to change for the better in my life. I was still working, but it was apparent that the accounting firm would close at year’s end.

It suddenly became easier to fall asleep. Martine usually fell asleep around 11:00 PM, and I followed a little more than an hour later. I still chewed a 3 mg Melatonin tablet, but I started to fall asleep by using mindful meditation. I started off with three deep breaths, followed it up with an inventory of my body, from the blepharitis in my eyes to my tendency to develop ingrown toenails. Next, I would concentrate on my breaths and incorporating the outside sounds of traffic and aircraft.

Usually, I would be out within 30 minutes. Sometimes it would take longer; sometimes, shorter. I had difficulty only if I had a long drive ahead the next morning, which wasn’t often.

The key: With mindful meditation, I have a way of neutralizing stress.

Forest Road 300

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The One Major Part of Arizona I Have Not Visited

I am fairly familiar with the desert portions of Arizona, with the sole exception of Phoenix, which I have little interest in visiting. One non-desert part of the state I would like to see is the Mogollon Rim, which runs for some two hundred miles (322 km) as a series of high cliffs in the east central part of the state.

Running along the rim is Forest Road 300.. According to an article in Arizona Highways:

Measured in thousands of feet and hundreds of miles, it’s [the Rim] a massive wall of rock that begins near Arizona’s border with New Mexico and stretches diagonally across most of the state. Through the lens of a camera, a set of binoculars or your own baby blues, the views from the top of the Rim are stunning, and on a clear day, you can see all the way to Mount Lemmon.

The vistas steal the show, but there’s a lot to see along Forest Road 300, which can be approached from the east, near Woods Canyon Lake, or from the west, just north of Strawberry. This listing is written from the west, and it begins with an uphill climb through a thick pine forest—the Mogollon Rim is home to the world’s largest stand of ponderosas. After 1.2 miles, FR 300 intersects what used to be the General Crook Trail, a historic wagon route that was used in the 1870s and 1880s to provide logistical support for General George Crook in the U.S. Army’s war against the Apaches.

From reports I have heard, the road is being paved, to the accompaniment of complaints from the 4×4 community. I don’t know if my Subaru is up to a long isolated ride on an unimproved dirt road, but I’m willing to give it a try.

I hope that Martine and I can pay a visit to the Rim and various other parts of the state early this autumn.