Good morning, all! I am off my sleep schedule and not happy about it. I've also paid all my bills and purchased the CAMELOT CD from the big check that finally arrived yesterday, and I'm broke again. Oy! I'm sure the stress over this check has been a big part of the sleeping problem, but I am going through a period of slow work and little income. This is the first year in some time that my phone's not ringing with either an inquiry or a job. Both Gregg Edelman and Brent Barrett contacted me earlier in 2011 about work - a couple of charts for Gregg for a benefit and Brent wanted his Christmas charts for less than 10 players turned into charts for pops symphonies - but nothing's happened. Liz Callaway had asked me about expanding a 15-player chart for "Being Alive" for a pops concert, and after I'd begun the work, she cancelled it because she'd decided that simply increasing the number of string parts would do. It may save her money but it certainly does no good for me having the arrangement credit on what I consider a lousy solution. 40 strings playing parts written for originally seven players and ignoring the fact there are no brass players except for one trumpet is not a good solution.
So, let's see what fresh hell the day brings, shall we? I'm off to the library. I didn't get there yesterday, and I have more meds waiting at the pharmacy.
DR John G, I was unlucky enough to see the original Public Theatre production of "The Human Comedy" for three reasons: my friend the late Ken Bryan was in it, I like a lot of Galt McDermott's music, and the reviews had been excellent. It was one of the worst pieces of crap I've ever seen, with about half of a good cast (the real stinkers were the boy from FRIGHT NIGHT and Gordon Connell), and too large a band playing too loudly in too small a space. The first trumpet shrieked nothing but high notes, with a few so high that only dogs can hear them, till I thought I'd go deaf. It stank. The movie cannot be as bad. The story was, too me, typical William Saroyan paddlin' maudlin home.
