Values Hold True...Until They Don't

VALUE 1: Parking is not paying for.

Scene: 8:00 AM in Boston's Back Bay, Liz is on her way to work.

"I WILL NOT put my car in a parking garage," Liz says aloud, imagining you all nodding. 

An empty parking spot is up ahead. A smile formulates. Endorphins are ready to be released like a flock of wild white doves into a beach sunset. 

And then, another car pulls into it. 

You can imagine how that feels. Yes you can. 

"I WILL NOT put my car in the parking garage," she says louder and pulling a U-turn. 

Ten minutes later...

"I WILL NOT BE DENIED," she screams, winding around the block again.  

20 minutes later...

Liz walks out of parking garage, $26 poorer, shrugging.

VALUE 2: Buying locally is the right thing to do. 

Scene: 9:00 AM in the indy coffee shop a few steps away from Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts, downstairs from Liz's office.

"Oh hey, I'm sorry to bother you again,” Liz said to a mohawked, nose-pierced barista. “But I think I ordered a large latte, and my reusable mug is less than half full here..."

"It only comes in one size.”

"Oh, right. I understand. But um, I actually order this like several times a week, for $4.75 each time, and they have always filled it up to nearly the top, I'm not thinking like...the ENTIRE mug to be full, but like, um..."

"IT ONLY COMES IN ONE SIZE," lady replies before turning around and storming off. 

Liz smiles, flips around to see who witnessed that humiliation, and declares proudly, “From now on, I will just go to Starbucks!”

VALUE 3: Healthy stuff will solve some of the world's major problems.

Scene: 12:00 PM at Whole Foods.

Liz buys a $9 bottle of vegan Hemp milk with Himalayan salt and Green algae extract, imagining you all applauding next to cuddly farm animals. 

After one sip, she decides that this actually won't do ____ to solve ____. 

She declares, "From now on, I'll just stick to cheaper and more filling candy bars." 

CONCLUSIVE OVERARCHING AND AMBIGUOUS BUT THOUGHT-PROVOKING THING THAT SUMS IT UP: It's not only knowing when to give up, but why. 

Scene: The next day, these three values all come up again in the same exact courses of action. And yet still, Liz holds true to them like there's no tomorrow.  

[mic drop]

The Good Fight

It isn't my usual style in this medium to take on politics or big controversial world issues. But I am trying it out. After recent world events, this is my way of carefully inserting my filtered voice into the global internet shouting match.

The only other time I've really stated political views was in conjunction with my trip to Israel in 2009. (Read that here.)

A few years ago, my favorite phrase to use was "Fightin' the good fight!" when people asked me how it was going. It always got a good response. But nowadays, my feelings about that phrase have gone from delighted to disturbed.

Humans were created with a desire to create conflict, therefore fight, and therefore win.

Terrorists cause unwarranted pain on innocent civilians because they are "fighting" for their particular beliefs.

Non-terrorists people of the world "fight" back by living their lives, not letting fear prevent them from going about their normal routines.

Both sides think they are right in the process of fighting.

While it seems clear to each side who is right and who is wrong, violence often leaves no choice in how to handle it, except to fight.

But isn't the point, in the end, for everyone not to have to fight?

So I wonder, without any particular religious context, what it would look like to just stop fighting. People helping each other more? Welcoming in those who need help without question? Doing more yoga? Eating vegetarian? Creating more art?

By asking these questions with no real answers, maybe I'm a pacifist. Maybe I'm weak. I don't know. One thing I do know is that being a musician makes real sense in times like these.

I'll end with more questions then.

Can you win without fighting?

Has peace ever existed?

And all in all, what really is the good fight?

The 'Burbs

So, the other night, I was out for a walk in our charming little New England town with my newly-acquired husband. It was an end-of-summer night, the kind where the air is soft and calm, the temperature is perfect after coming down from a warm day. The humidity is no longer oppressive, but rather like a calming ether. It was a night that feels like sand slipping through your fingers. They are numbered, and for that they are all the more special.

We got ice cream cones and walked. All around us were sweet families with children, or elderly couples who are likely on the other side of fulfilling careers and successfully-launched offspring. People were happy and smiling, and therefore were happy to be among such functionality and peace among humanity.

AND THEN, as often happens, admiration turned into intimidation and then self-deprecation. Lots of these people probably got together after meeting in Harvard's Extra-Special Overachievers Super Duper Honors Society for People Who Do Everything Exactly Right Club. They probably eat strictly organic all the time, which is how their skin glows. They are maybe even the donors who keep our arts organizations running. They are all on the same landing path in life. They've made it.

Not like us.

As we often acknowledge, we are outliers in this picturesque town. In a place where everyone seems to have "landed," we are the "in betweeners." And further, we're not so sure we'll end up like them. We exude confidence and royalty, but are really still just two kids trying to figure it out.  

We stopped in front of a store window of real estate listings, and pointed out the obvious flaws in the $2,000,000 "fixer upper." I knew in my gut that there have to be downsides to that kind of life. We just couldn't articulate it.

I knew in my gut that we'll one day settle and find our own actual home; that we'll be hosting dinners, fencing off bunny rabbits, getting our kids music lessons straight out of the womb, and all the things we assume these "have it together" people do.

I knew, and know, in my gut, that we'll figure it all out, that WE'LL ACHIEVE THE PERFECT STABLE LIFE WITHOUT ANY FLAWS OR PROBLEMS EVER AT ALL. We just don't know how quite exactly yet.

Or that we haven't already done it.

While pontificating on this together, we made the journey back home. The lanterny lights faded as we grew closer to our destination. Soon, the only real light was from the full moon.


SUDDENLY, an animal scurried in front of me. I jumped three feet in the air and screamed in bloody horror. I assumed it was a monster out to eat me. It stopped in its tracks, and I saw it was a baby bunny rabbit. After a staring contest, he peacefully hopped into the bushes. I knew in my gut that it was judging me (and laughing). I just couldn't prove it.

So then I peered up, and spotted a couple of little faint stars. I knew in my gut that there were more stars all around. I just couldn't see them. Before opening our front door, I tilted my head back and cast a pleading stare into the stratosphere. I thought questions like, Who am I? Where am I going? Where did I put my Sephora lip gloss?  I leaned into the feelings. The ache of adulthood. The struggle with the "in between." The unknown. And gratitude too. I searched for what I knew was there but couldn't see. I expressed non-religiously (but spiritually) that I have faith.

Michael patiently stared at me, waiting to go inside. Then he too gave an upward glance to the sky, and then back to me. I put my arm around his shoulder and gripped it like the jaws of life.

“I have faith,” I said aloud this time. “Say you have faith.”

He obeyed, like every good new husband does.

"Faith in...?" 

"I don't know," I replied. "And everything."

We repeated it, and then chanted it, peppering it with humor covered by deep knowledge that this is no joke at all.

The clouds moved in. 

Then, something poked its head out of the bushes and said, "Welcome to the 'burbs, guys. This is real life out here."

I ran inside screaming. Balancing my crazy with calm, Michael followed me in smiling. We proceeded forth into the future, nurturing the home we have already made together, no matter where it leads.

ASCEND-izzle

So many CD's. So little time.

My musicalizzle identitizzle is like a kaleidoscope yo. I be a ballin' finger-lickin' different thang from every last angle. I’ve morphed from performa ta mackdaddy ta noize advocate, n' all of tha above at different moments up in time.

In addition, as mah mackdaddys can probably confirm, I be a lil' bit of a different breed yo.

I channeled Jizzy Hendrix when playin fast runs up in the hood of that Mozart concerto. I’ve made Greek Mythologizzle "hip." I write quirky blogs as another artistic outlet. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I even dabbled up in standup comedy.

Some playas would say "just make up yo' mind."

I say, "where’s tha funk up in that?" In other lyrics, I don't give a ___ how.

Along tha trip of tryin ta figure up who/what I am, I’ve been deeply hyped up by happenings up in society. Outdated joints, bankruptcies, n' negativitizzle up in tha noize ghetto have tainted mah inspiration ta *just* perform. .

(One thang I decided ta do bout that, cough cough, is create dis crib.)

In mah struttin game though, I’ve been lifted by playin up in nuff freshly smoked up settings, wackly moved n' well traveled by providin noize fo' weddin ceremonies, energized by mah private hustlas, n' motivated most of all by just playing, up in any capacity, every last freakin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! My trip fo' a one identitizzle is ongoing.

Amidst all dat melodrama, I recorded "ASCEND.".

By brangin together composers n' peeps whoz ass is mah playas, showcasin they noize up in a freshly smoked up way, n' bustin a legacy, mah mad drama went away fo' realz. All dat mattered was tha music.

What made tha experience even mo' meaningful is dat each collaborator has similar multiple identitizzles yo, but noize is tha thread dat tizzles them, n' us, all together n' shit. Our collaboration on dis project reminded mah crazy ass of why I be a musical dude no matta how tha heck much tha meanin of dat chizzles.

On April 26th up in Boston, I invite you ta join me as I officially "release" dis mixtape wit a live performizzle celebration.

If you don't live up in Boston, I be bout ta be streamin live biaaatch! Link ta be announced soon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Listen ta excerpts n' learn mo' at www.elizabetherenberg.com.

I hope you gonna feel lifted. Y'all KNOW dat stuff, homedawg! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. I shizzle have.


Elizabeth Erenberg has engaged crews lil' n' oldschool as a gangsta, baller, n' advocate fo' noize fo' realz. As a bangin' flutist, she performs regularly as a gangin' freelancer all up in New England, holdz a private teachin basement up in tha Boston area, n' up in has recently busted out "ASCEND," a cold-ass lil commercial recordin of freshly smoked up noize fo' flute n' other instruments by livin composers. In 2014 dat thugged-out biiiatch co-founded Musicovation.com, a online forum all bout tha positizzle n' innovatizzle noize industry news. Right back up in yo ass. Biatch be also tha Boston Marketin & Communications Manager fo' tha NPR program n' nonprofit organization, From tha Top. Elizabeth holdz degrees from tha New England Conservatory n' Universitizzle of Oregon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. www.elizabetherenberg.com.

To see the actual English version of this blog, click here.

Thanks, gizoogle.

Shovels

In the days of my youth, I really knew how to shovel into that dry, caked over Southern California dirt, and make great castles with mud created from imported ground water. 

Little Liz, 4ish, with the prized possession. Aw.

Today, I really know how to shovel into that dirty, heavy, iced over snow. I also know how to dig down into my soul and find the true meaning behind meaningless gibberish. That's why you love this blog.

Shoveling, winter...those are themes I've discussed a lot before (here and here and here and here and here and here)...

Birdies

You may have noticed (or not) that I changed the layout of this blog to birds. There is a good reason for that.

I chose it at random.

Sometimes change is just nice. As long as you can control the circumstances, the impact, the temperature, and every other factor for your own personal comfort, change is definitely nice.

So, you put on your dark green facial cream, get in your fuzzy kitty pajamas, climb into your snuggie with a glass of warm milk, and flip on ABC Nightly News. Diane Sawyer takes your hand and is about to lead you into the rolling hills of dreamland. Just then, a curtain is violently ripped to the side.

OMG. It is your Creative Genius. He steps out, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, and looms over you.

Creative genius says: "Let's roll."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Let's roll."

You sit up.  "I'm sorry? NOW you're ready to roll? I've been trying to coax you out all day. I don't have time for this right now. I need my beauty sleep to prevent premature wrinkles!"

"Fair enough," he replies. "I'm heading back in." [draws curtain]

You scramble out of bed, reach forward through your snuggie sleeves, and grab him.
"WAIT! Fine. Let's roll."

Creative genius smiles maniacally.


The two of you hit it off again like no time was lost. You feed him treats, he lets you pet his ears. When he is especially pleased with your productions, he'll sit on your lap.

Through thick and thin, one thing is for sure. He is always right. You'll do whatever he says without question.

Now that I've made that cryptic introduction about "you," I will share my latest adventures.


1. I have released my first commercial music album! It consists of new classical flute music by composers who are all a) still living, and b) good friends/mentors of mine, and c) really, really great musicians with their own Creative Geniuses. Appropriate for the new background of this blog, it has a bird on it.

Check it out on iTunes.

2. I started a new website called Musicovation, which is about positive news in the music world. I invite you, my little chicklets, to contribute/recommend/suggest stuff for it. 

3. I delved into a new world. Drum roll.....

Standup comedy.

So.


I may not be perfect (just kidding),

I may not be a man,

and, yes, I may not have even had a Bat Mitzvah...


But ALL THIS (i.e. that, above...all that above), my chirping little birdlets, is good for me. It can also be good for you. Beginning requirements are: willingness to fail, cynicism at one or more elements of the world, and sense of humor.


How do I have time to do regular life things? you may be wondering.

No idea.

Perhaps you will now infer (correctly) that the above mentioned things are where the little birdie in my heart is really flying to right now. Creative Genius confirms this as yes.

Don't worry though, my fresh-baked little muffins. I always land on my feet after taking flight.

Fly, little birdie. 

Fly. 

Half a Maraton

I hate this. This is good for me. Running is a metaphor for life. It keeps me moving, out of ruts, continuously going forward. It forces me to be in the moment yet keep my eye on the goal. It makes me feel powerful. It is the bomb.

Oh look, the beach.

 

Am I hallucinating? MUST GO FASTER!

This is the mile 7 marker! Say what? I am only already just past halfway! This sucks I'm doing great! And these folks demonstrate the best of humanity by giving out free sips of Gatorade and packets of astronaut-style goo.

The runners thank these volunteers by tossing their trash along the road.  Yay for exercise, so screw the earth?

Hungry?  Have a snickers.  (Seriously, next time I'm bringing a Snickers.)

Next time I'm also dressing up more for the occasion, like this chick.

Now that I'm at the finish, I shall sprint, looking forward to how much my body will hate love me for it tomorrow. I'm taking suggestions on captions for this picture.

1. Get outa my way! Nobody's around! That's good right?
2. Thank goodness this is over! This is was so great and now I'm DONE!

Please leave more captions in the comments.

***

Wow, that was amazing. Awesome. So fun. Only good feelings!!
Thank you to my friend Rachel being one of my inspirations to run. This is my second half marathon, but she runs them all the time.

The end of this past season of The Bachelorette really sums up how I feel about this experience:

Now onto the next race. Want to join me? I do recommend this, believe it or not.

Also believe it or not, I'm going to do the FULL MARATHON

...as soon as I eat this entire box of cheez-its.