AfrikaBurn

AfrikaBurn

Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God – Kurt Vonnegut

Novel experiences are exercises for our brains. And Burning Man, the art-centric city that springs up every year in Nevada's Black Rock Desert, is teaming with them. But after fifteen years of burning, one runs the risk of getting burnt out. Rituals and traditions are important, and so is novelty. That's one reason I started attending more regional burns towards the end of the pandemic. Utah's Element 11 was first. Element 11 is eerily reminiscent of the flagship Nevada happening, except that its significantly smaller size allows one to easily find friends or reunite with new acquaintances. Florida's Love Burn is the polar opposite of the big burn, as it borders a beach and Amazon Prime delivers to the gate.

AfrikaBurn, one of the largest regional burns on Earth, had been on my radar for years. It always seemed exotic and otherworldly, and I honestly wasn't sure if I'd ever make the pilgrimage. When my Love Burn camp Cymatica started planning to attend, though, I began fantasizing about the possibility. I'd never been to Africa, and this seemed like the perfect chance to rectify that. Because fellow monochrome and part-time Cape Town resident Yellow Randolf is an AfrikaBurn vet, I consulted him for guidance. Synchronistically, Randolf's friends were involved with a theme camp planning to bring a literal ton of oranges to the burn. The fruit was being donated by Citrusdal, South Africa's biggest citrus-producing region. The camp's name? Ambient Naartjie. “Naartjie” is the the Afrikaans word for a soft, loose-skinned tangerine or mandarin orange. Talk about dustiny.

So how was it? A cascade of synchronicities led to singing the mantra “Baba Hanuman” with ukulele accompaniment for a spontaneous yoga class on day one. And magic continued to transpire from that point forward. I led a rousing “Hakuna Matata” singalong at a French music bingo dance party. Got goosebumps as the burning Tree of Stories kicked up a parade of dust devils. Co-facilitated singalongs with fellow Coloradan Danny Fantastic at ABnB. Was transported to the big burn via Monolink's set at Ubulanti. Serenaded my lovely German neighbors at Ambient Naartjie. Basked in sunset vibes at Mad Hatters Village. And was blown away by the musicality of Forefathers Ensemble's Friday night sound journey.

Color me grateful for new friends and memories.

Images: Lara De Wet

"Under the Eclipse" Release Recap

"Under the Eclipse" Release Recap

Those of you who weren't able to attend my “Under the Eclipse” music release party last Thursday have been asking how it went. Because I refuse to oversimplify such a significant life event – and it was too overwhelming to answer everyone individually – I'll attempt to paint a picture below :)

Invisible City's Clubhouse headquarters hosted the release. Located in a charming old factory in the heart of Denver's Santa Fe Arts District, the IC Clubhouse is a bohemian abode decorated with large plants, treasures from around the globe and salon style seating. Navel oranges brightened the space for the night and copies of my career-encapsulating recent Denver Westword feature were on hand. Friends and family filtered in as DJ Ginger Perry dropped ear worms from Stevie Nicks, Bowie, Qveen Herby and more. Reunions transpired and hugs were shared. Fancy cocktails were imbibed and laughter permeated the room. My dad told his favorite singing telegram story ad nauseam. ‘Twas a vibe.

The evening culminated with a music trio performance featuring vocalist Lex Alvis, guitarist Andy Babb and yours truly. Lex and I – LexaPeel for short – prepared a three-song set of comedy country covers involving costume changes, props and humorous banter. Little did we know that the first number, an innuendo-laden ditty from the mockumentary Walk Hard, soundtracked my step-brother Woody's proposal to his wife Mackenzie. And they were both present, likely delighted by the synchronicity of seeing people close to them performing a tune carrying such special significance. It wouldn't be the end of making people feel special.

Birthday grams are a singing telegram artist's bread and butter. And this telegram artist knows a dozen or more birthday numbers. But none are quite like “Birthday Medicine,” the tune we're releasing Friday, April 19 at my Archipelago-hosted Unbirthday Party and 20th “Singaversary” - 20 years of singing telegram deliveries. With Lex's birthday on the horizon, it was only fitting that we performed a rendition of it in her honor. I lit the candle protruding from a Scotcheroo treat Lex had concocted herself, and we waltzed our way through the medicine circle-originating birthday meditation. You're a gift to this earth. Bless the day of your birth. The most recognized song in the English language — “Happy Birthday” — can't hold a candle to “Birthday Medicine.”

The moment of truth had arrived. While Lex helped me into an orange fur coat, I shared the origin story of “Under the Eclipse” with those in attendance. Yes, there was a Craigslist ad involved. And no one really knows whether the ad author fathered an eclipse baby with a stranger he met on the classified ads site. Some speculate that he was a internet prankster instead. Either way, the mystery author probably doesn't realize someone wrote a song about his banana nuts personal ad yet. A song that Andy, Lex and I dutifully played for the devoted friends and family who'd come out to support us that night. The song culminated with a singalong. Gimme your lips. Gimme your hips. Under the eclipse.

Keep your eyes peeled for the Rocco Tortorella-edited music video, featuring footage from Brad Bingham, Thor Wixom and Rocco himself :)

Image: Daniel McEnrue Photography
Wardrobe Support: Shannon Ryan
Event & Sound Support: Debjit
Artwork: OjerOmyO

Best for Colorado

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Best for Colorado

Best for Colorado is a statewide initiative founded and spearheaded by the B Corp movement to bring together a coalition of businesses, nonprofits and government groups to encourage and empower all Colorado companies to be the best for Colorado’s workers, communities and the environment. Launched in June 2017 at The Governor’s Mansion, the landmark program invited 500 Colorado companies to complete the Best for Colorado Challenge. Best for Colorado enlisted Custom Singing Telegrams to concoct a theme song for the program launch. CST owner Orange Peel Moses penned a derivative of Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s “Takin’ Care of Business” for the occasion - see lyrics below :)

Jobs that are worthy of this state
let's create 'em, make 'em great
Build and strengthen our communities

Colorado deserves it,

Colorado, let's preserve its
environmental integrity

Challenges, they are a facing
Colorado's population
Business can address 'em head on, it's true

Business practice improvement
let's support leaders who do it
and encourage others to follow suit



Taking care of business (every day)
Taking care of business (every way)

taking care of business (that is right)

Taking care of business and working overtime

Work out

What's your company's impact?
take the challenge, get the facts
you can do it all on our website

Any company can do it
any biz can join the movement
doesn't matter its sector or size

80 B Corps in this state
B Corps are leading the way
using business as a positive force

it is time to get to work
Build, recruit, support, mentor
Then next year, we'll give out some awards

Best for Colorado

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Neighborhood Builders

Neighborhood Builders

Neighborhood Builders is a Bank of America program that awards financial aid to deserving nonprofits. Denver’s Prodigy Coffeehouse was chosen to receive a $200K Neighborhood Builders grant in 2021. Bank of America enlisted Custom Singing Telegrams to break the incredible news. CST owner Orange Peel Moses penned a derivative of Queen’s iconic “We Are the Champions” to communicate the one-of-a-kind announcement - see lyrics below :)

At Prodigy, coffee is served
by young adults
from Northeast Denver

Kind staff on hand to show them the ropes
Youth building skills, confidence and wellness
Filled with dreams and hopes

Neighborhood Builders, you are
And we want to help you go so far
Neighborhood Builders
Neighborhood Builders
Congratulations, here's a check for 200K

Image: Giorgio Trovato / Unsplash

Baby Sloffee (Grateful Dead Derivative)

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Baby Sloffee (Grateful Dead Derivative)

At a bluegrass fest, that is where we met
You were drunk and lost and also alone
You were in distress, like a shit-faced damsel
I rescued you and now look where we are

To Pigskin, I gave in, winning isn't so bad
Down dog style, I got you to try it
Speaking of pups, when Hobo went missing
We trekked for miles, and three solid days

Happy anniversary
We are checking things off
Our rain check list

Quarantine with you hasn't been that bad boo
We can lamp all day and all through the night
You are cuter than a baby sloth, you
took me to a donkey sanctuary

We have off-roaded, at the Top of the World
A Trumper we call “Come on” helped us up
Florida, New Orleans and Alabama
Iron Bull football, survived a blizzard too

Maybe one day, we'll have a threesome
with the gal who barbecues at Rancho
And I'll write a book of rednecky things you say
'It duttin' matter, I like 'em skinny'

La dee da da da,
We go where we go
Da da da, da da, da da da da da

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Casting Call: Holiday Acts

Casting Call: Holiday Acts

Citric Acid Arts is currently casting ambient street entertainers to perform non-denominational holiday acts between December 19-24 (excluding December 22) in Vail, Colorado. Performance hours are 3:30-5:30 pm. Lodging would be the performer’s responsibility. Interested acts should submit photos and/or hosted video of their act, along with resume, insurance, rates and availability to yello@orangepeelmoses.com with the subject “Vail: Full Name.”

Voila! It Was You

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Voila! It Was You

In nearly twenty of years of delivering singing telegrams, I've performed for thousands of recipients. And I’ve composed personalized lyrics for many, including recent customer-turned-recipient Jimmie Brown (below). Jimmie is the first recipient to wax poetic about her point-of-view experience. Behold her French-infused “Voila! It Was You” :)

You slipped in the door, I hadn’t a clue
And then when I turned — voila! it was you
With guitar and grin and jaunty beret
It’s Monsieur l’Orange, all ready to play
I sat open-jawed, with my mouth all askew
As my family high-fived at their big birthday coup

Your French serenade was la creme de la creme
With random French phrases adroitly tossed in
You strummed and you sang with gusto and mirth
And led in the toast to the day of my birth
Complete with my very own “La Vie en Rose”
With personal lyrics that you had composed

The whole celebration was tres magnifique
Pulled off with aplomb and with nary a squeak
(With one small exception and narrow escape
when 85 candles ignited the cake)
So merci beaucoup to the whole sneaky crew
My fabulous family and fabulous you

Zheemie aka Jimmie Brown

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Albuquerque Ambush

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Albuquerque Ambush

Hot air balloons inspire a sense of childlike wonder in Shannon Ryan. Albuquerque’s Balloon Fiesta has been on her bucket list for nearly a decade. Currently living part-time in New Mexico's balloon capital for a travel nurse contract, attending the 2023 edition was a no-brainer. And because her enthusiasm is contagious, I couldn't resist joining her for the adventure. Serendipitously, I booked a singing telegram there mere days before “balloonatics” would converge en masse.

Betty aka Mechante (French for “naughty”) was the telegram recipient. She was celebrating an impressive milestone – ninety years on this sphere. When one of the senders – a French enthusiast named Jimmie – celebrated her own fiftieth, Betty performed a French chicken routine at the party. As a callback to that skit, I assembled my own French chicken look for Betty's bday gram. No, it's not a mascot-style chicken suit. But the hodgepodge styling adds to the comedy of the bit, and keeping my face exposed is better for both singing and expression.

Delivery day involved performing in two different states in the same twenty-four hour period. I rocked a midday party in Parker (Colorado), flew to Albuquerque mid-afternoon and Lyfted to Betty's garage - my staging area for the evening’s surprise. The moment of truth had arrived. I sauntered into Betty's living room with my six-string and rocked my way through tunes including “The Naughty Lady of Shady Lane” and “Older Women,” Ronnie McDowell's ode to experienced lovers. Then I performed “Spring Chicks are Overrated,” a poem Jimmie composed for the occasion, and clucked an onomatopoeia version of “Happy Birthday.”

”Spring Chicks are Overrated” (An Excerpt)

Spring chicks are overrated -
give me a lusty hen
whose feathers still get ruffled,
though she’s molted now and then
Her wattles may be sagging
and need a tiny tuck
But, frankly, if they’re dragging,
she doesn’t give a cluck

Poem: Jimmie Brown
Image: Lee Higbie
Gratitude: Shannon Ryan & Poppa Peel

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20 Years on Stilts

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20 Years on Stilts

Halloween 2023 will mark my twentieth year atop stilts. It's a mind-boggling milestone, even for someone who's spent most of his adult life looking down on people. It's wild that I even arrived here. I didn't grow up in a family of sideshow performers. Kumquat me went to a circus once, but I'm not even sure I encountered a stiltwalker before becoming one myself. So how did I end up on height enhancements? Make yourself comfy, it's story time.

If what's left of my memory serves, it's early 2003. I'm occupying dance floor real estate at a Denver club when Jennifer Avalon scouts me for a dance team she's assembling. Kevin Larson's Rise Nightclub opens a few months later, and I'm shaking my peach alongside breakers, poppers and go-gos. I finance my Burning Man ticket with the money I make dancing four or five consecutive nights. Halloween creeps up. Jenn pops a question that radically changes my worldview, “So, do you wanna get on the stilts tonight?” Life begins outside your comfort zone, right? I say yes and strap on the drywall stilts stashed in the green room closet. I spend most of that maiden voyage fondling the walls (emotional support architecture?). Spoiler alert: I don't die.

Twenty years ago, there weren't many stilt performers in Denver. So I get other gigs here and there. In 2005, I get cast in a circus show at Six Flags Elitch Gardens. The show runs nearly every summer night, so I enlist an understudy from the Rise team: Nate Leite. Veteran fire dancer Melinda Rivers teaches us some rudimentary fire spinning for the role. Inspired by Dark Crystal Landstriders and Broadway Lion King giraffes, Nate proposes a four-legged stilt creature the following year and lands the lead stilt role. I become Nate's understudy and we start walking on all fours via modified crutches and jumping stilts. At one point in the show's choreography, we even carry one of the dancers on our backs for a short distance.

The intervening seventeen years have been unquestionably elevated by countless high points.

— Cosplaying characters like Buddy the Elf, Jack Skellington, the Mad Hatter, Slender Man and the White Rabbit

— Performing with world-renowned EDM artists like Kaskade and Deadmau5 – the latter straddled my saddle backstage at Miami’s Ultra Music Festival – and bouncing around the court of current NBA champs The Denver Nuggets

— Strapping on height enhancements in Canada, China, Costa Rica, India, Japan, Mexico and all over the U.S.

— Auditioning for America's Got Talent and nearly stilting in a Stephen King-inspired TV show

— Filming an EDC China festival trailer in Shanghai and an iPad ad in New York (after discreetly peeing on a tree backstage:)

— Greeting Cirque du Soleil fans - astride a tall bike - at opening night of Luzia’s Denver run

— Walking in NYC Pride Parade two days after Supreme Court green-lights gay marriage

— Dancing the Electric Slide, hoisting babies in the air, juggling fruit, hula hooping and making hermaphroditic mermaids out of orange peels

— Landing on front pages of publications including The Aspen Times, The Denver Post, El Universal, Instagram and Vail Daily and appearing in Atlanta Magazine, High Times, LA Weekly, KMGH and The Washington Post

What a long, strange...stilt walkers generally sidestep the next word in that well-known Jerry Garcia quote. Halloween — and my twentieth stiltversary — is creeping up. How and where should I celebrate my milestone? Follow me on IG @orangepeelmoses and comment below - I’m gifting a stilt performance to the person with the winningest answer (travel expenses excluded).

Image: Bennett Sell-Kline / Insomniac Events

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Zaddy

Zaddy

When your main hustle is surprising humans, there are inevitably surprises in store for you too. Sunday was one such occasion.

A singing telegram booking agent texted me:
“Are you available to serenade a 12 year-old girl?”

I was. Said agent asked for age/gender appropriate song suggestions. Taylor Swift maybe?

The bday gram booked. And the recipient got an instant sex change – she was now a he. And his name was allegedly Zaddy, a name I'd only encountered in the context of age gap flirtation.

Zaddy (noun): a sexually attractive man, especially an older one who is fashionable or charismatic

Two adult males were standing outside the delivery location as I pulled into the complex. I parked on the street and unloaded my guitar, iPad and music stand. Dressed to the nines in my go-to tuxedo, I sauntered up to the “My Two Dads” duo.

If what's left of my memory serves, the man on the left thanked me for coming. I assumed that the adolescent recipient was waiting inside. “This is my 12 year-old son,” he said, motioning to the beer-drinking man standing beside him.

Role play: it's not just for singing telegram artists. Recipients can play too.

The Doll Movie Song

The Doll Movie Song

Number two?! Shit, that’ll do. Custom Singing Telegrams alum and “Butterflies” remixer Joman just dropped a Barbie-inspired earworm and it’s thumbed down a pink convertible straight to the top of iTunes’ Comedy Singles chart. “The Doll Movie Song” pokes fun at Barbie haters who felt emasculated by the film’s feminist messages. Will it dethrone comedian Kyle Gordon’s Eurodance sendup “Planet of the Bass?” Give Apple ninety-nine cents and let’s see how the cookie crumbles.

Rainboo

Rainboo

Rainboo, that is you
bringing color to my life like ya do
Please don’t ever dim your light, that’d be cruel
Rainboo, Rainboo

Rainboo, you’re my muse
Never been so damn inspired, yes it’s true
Your electric soul, it’s fire - gives me juice
Rainboo, Rainboo

Moose Knuckles

Moose Knuckles

Meet Moose Knuckles. Moose recently roasted an Aspen, CO resident named Chris. Chris is a [mostly unsuccessful] hunter, armchair recording artist (at best) and investor of family Coke money. At the request of his longtime buddy, I penned a musical roast to the tune of “Baby It's Cold Outside,” a song Chris once passably covered with duet partner Annalisa Bone (his single-use recording alias was Matador). Moose is sporting a multi-colored coat, a mini harmonica and a target on his chest to illustrate the lyrical jab I made about Chris's hilarious lack of hunting success.

“A meditating, multi-colored coat clad, harmonica-playing, target-wearing moose and you'd still miss!”

In case there was any question, Chris, I'm never going home with you.

Birthday Scavenger Hunt

Birthday Scavenger Hunt

A birthday can be celebrated in myriad ways. And as a singing telegram artist who often gets the distinct privilege of participating firsthand, I'm here for it. Follow me down the rabbit hole, and allow me to tell you a tale :)

Following a recent musical delivery as The White Rabbit, I presented the recipient with a popup book. The book described the scavenger hunt that Pam, the bday gal, was invited to embark on. The book’s initial clue led Pam to a nearby puzzle box filled with hand-carved figures. The handmade box contained “Alice dollars” and another clue. The custom currency was legal tender at Black Box Bakery, where another box awaited. This second box contained a tabletop “Drink Me” coffee puzzle, which, upon completion, sent Pam to Ziggi's Coffee. The coffee purchased with Alice dollars came with a cryptex. The tiny Mad Hatter's hat inside contained a geo-location, which led Pam to her final gift in Lakewood Heritage Park.

The takeaway? Never settle for a mere sheet cake. If Sean Rice can lead Pam on the adventure described above, your friends and family can do better ;)

Nothing Compares 2 Booster

Nothing Compares 2 Booster

It's been 438,000 hours and 18,250 days
Since his birth, I did the math, hey hey hey hey
Hot-wired golf carts when he was teen aged
With co-conspirators, hey hey hey hey
Abandoned carts once the joyrides were done
In the lake, pool and elevator
Delinquents were whisked off to a prison
but they were just visiting with Scared Straight
(an at-risk youth program)

No one, Booster, no one compares 2 u

Secret Oktober was the boy band
that he was a member of
They were not the best band in the land
But warmed up Salt N Pepa once (push it, push it real good!)
'You're My Only Lover' was their tune
There are only two chords
I could have penned this to it but you
Y'all would've been so bored, bored, bored

Not a d!ckhead, but was a deckhand
For a big @$$ antique ship
Was in entourage of a gay man
Said gay Brit was rich
Booster busked in London for six months
Was he turning tricks?
In Italy, Booster lived with monks
Killing goats, but celibate? Imagine it...celibate?!
(On a related note, Stephinity may be the only gal here he hasn't slept with)

Learned Kung Fu that Bruce Lee invented
A black belt in masturbation?
Still fathered two boys, but killed one kid
The lactose allergic one
Booster fed a Cheeto to said kid
(to be fair, who knew Cheetos contained bona fide cheese?)
Medics revived his son
Ice cream, in his kid's eye, Booster dripped
Son looked like an alien, alien, alien
(If Booster ever teaches Parenting 101, warn EVERYONE you know to steer clear)

The mushroom chocolates in the icebox
Loki ate a few
When, daily, Booster was smoking pot
Didn't notice his son was too
Five bucks, to a kid, that is a lot
So sand, Loki consumed
Liam and Loki were sparring off
Spoken: Booster gave up trying to stop 'em, said, 'Just don't kill him dude'

This one time at Burning Man, this fucking guy
This guy fucked a dolphin (don't ask me)
Swore brownies were micro-dosed just right
Made partygoers sick
Litter boxes won't do for this guy
In toilets, his cat shits
Once drew a face on his bare behind
Smoked a lit cigarette with it – LIT, LIT

Cinnamon Swallowsworth is his drag name
Looks good in a dress
There's a meme with his doppelganger
It says, 'Your pussy is wet'
Fantasizes about becoming mist
And being inhaled by a lady
Caite, she calls Booster her little bitch
Bat calls him Shaman Shady

Casting: Character Actors

Casting: Character Actors

Citric Acid Arts is casting character actors to play crazy sports fans for summer sports events. Interested actors can email headshots, resumes, reels et cetera to yello(at)orangepeelmoses(dot)com.

Image: Newsday

Earth Day Playlist

Earth Day Playlist

Earth without art is “eh.” Click on the image for an Earth Day playlist featuring Kacey Musgraves, Radiohead, Talking Heads, Eddie Vedder, Marvin Gaye, Pixies, The Beatles, Peter Gabriel and more..

Big Prankster Energy

Big Prankster Energy

Singing telegrams would not be nearly as impactful without the element of surprise. My customers and I go to great lengths to ensure recipients won't be expecting a costumed musician to suddenly appear at their home, office or restaurant table. So, even when the message is sincere or sweet, there's always a bit of prankster energy involved. But some customers like to amplify the trickster aspect. Dressed as a rodeo clown, I once walked into a kitchen where a client and her neighbors were gathered and removed a vegetable from the fridge – without acknowledging a soul. “Is anyone else seeing this?” asked one perplexed witness. I attended a Deadhead wedding and wrangled a high five from a groom who'd left high five hopefuls hanging for five whole years. I've impersonated cops, a cockroach, customers, a health inspector, Rick Astley (for IRL Rick Rolls), a Jehovah's Witness and even recipients themselves.

While pranks are fair game all year round in the singing telegram world, some customers like to punk the people they love on April Fool's Day. I once strolled into a Middle Eastern eatery, clad only in a towel (a callback to an awkward encounter with the recipient's barber), and sang Bryan Adams for a befuddled restaurateur. The fake patient I channeled in 2023 takes the cake, though. Make yourself comfortable, it's story time:)

Isaac, a bald Denver dentist who treats a wide variety of patients, was the target recipient. His office had recently received a set of fake teeth in the mail from a sender who identified themselves as “M. Gilbert.” The prankster customer, Isaac's girlfriend, enlisted me to play Mike Gilbert, a patient with dentophobia (a fear of dentists), peladophobia (a fear of bald people) and photophobia (an allergy to sunlight and bright flourescent lights). Isaac's staff, who were all in on the joke, scheduled Gilbert for a midday appointment. I began brainstorming wardrobe possibilities for my unique character.

The prankster's holiday arrived. Clad head to toe in a ski mask, goggles, a coolie (the conical Asian sun hat) and mostly black, I walked into the dentist’s office and checked in for my fake appointment. I handed the receptionist a bag of costumes and wigs, in hopes that Isaac would consider disguising himself to ease two of Gilbert's biggest fears – dentophobia and peladophobia. “Is it cold outside?” asked another patient in the waiting room, confused by the weirdo in the ski mask and goggles (as if there'd been a microburst since he was outside last). A staff member called my pseudonym and escorted me into a small consultation room within earshot of the front office. Leaning into the character, I tipped my sun hat low in the front, imagining Mike wouldn't risk eye contact with Isaac – especially if Isaac wasn't wearing a wig or a costume.

The moment of truth was upon me. Isaac, wig-free and with dentist tools around his neck, stepped into the room and sat down. “What's going on?” Isaac asked. “I'm not sure how much your staff told you about me, but I have a debilitating fear of dentists. So it's really important that you not act like a dentist,” I replied, stuttering slightly. “Did you get the teeth I sent you?” referring to the fake teeth his office had recently received in the mail. When Isaac said he hadn't, I showed him the plaster teeth I'd brought as a prop.

Isaac was buying the act. I asked him if he could sing to me – to soothe my nerves – while he examined my teeth. He wouldn't, but he was willing to refer me to a dentist that could (singing dentists are a thing?). I suggested that I could sing to myself instead. Isaac excused himself, and I could hear him whispering with his staff nearby. I couldn't make out much, but I sensed he didn't want to examine such a strange patient. A staff member came in and whispered, “I have to pretend like I'm talking to you right now. He wants to send you elsewhere, but I'm gonna tell him you insist on being treated here.” The prank was going swimmingly.

Isaac had made his aversion to treating me clear. We collectively decided it was time for the big reveal. “If you see him walk by, just start singing,” suggested the staffer I'd been interacting with. When Isaac appeared in the open doorway, I stood up and began puppeteering the plaster teeth as I sang Weird Al's U2 derivative “Cavity Search” a capella.

Listening to the Muzak
hearing people scream
sitting in the waiting room
reading crappy magazines

With a toothache
this is it, pal
root canal

My molars are impacted
I’m getting gum disease
Gonna need some fillings
Got twelve cavities

Can ya help me?
Have mercy
Doctor please!

Isaac was either confused or speechless while I was singing. But upon finishing the above portion of the tune, I started laughing. Isaac finally realized what was happening and joined me. Everyone who'd been involved in the stunt, including Isaac's nearby girlfriend, was laughing at that point. “Mission accomplished” would be an understatement.

Click on the image and scroll down for smart phone captures of the grand finale :)

This Is Your Brain on Music

This Is Your Brain on Music

Only relatively recently in our culture, about 500 years ago or so, did a distinction arise that cut society in two, forming separate classes of music performers and music listeners. Throughout most of the world, and for most of human history, music making was as natural an activity as breathing and walking – and everyone participated. Concert halls, dedicated to the performance of music, arose only in the last several centuries. 

For his doctoral degree at Harvard, anthropology professor Jim Ferguson performed field work in Lesotho, a small nation completely surrounded by South Africa. There, studying and interacting with local villagers, Jim patiently earned their trust, until one day he was asked to join in one of their songs.

“I don't sing,” Jim said in a soft voice.

The villagers found his objection puzzling and inexplicable. The Sotho consider singing an ordinary, everyday activity, performed by everyone – young and old, men and women – not an activity reserved for a special few. 

Our culture, and indeed our very language, makes a distinction between a class of expert performers (the Arthur Rubensteins, Ella Fitzgeralds and Paul McCartneys), and the rest of us. The rest of us pay money to hear the experts entertain us. Jim knew that he wasn't much of a singer or dancer. And to him, a public display of singing and dancing, implied he thought himself an expert. 

The villagers just stared at Jim and said, “What do you mean you don't sing?! You talk?!”

It was as odd to them as if I'd told them I couldn't walk or dance, even though I have both my legs. Singing and dancing were a natural activity in everybody's lives – seamlessly integrated, and involving everyone. As in many of the world's languages, the Sotho verb for singing (ho bina) also means to dance. There is no distinction, since it is assumed singing involves bodily movement.

A couple of generations ago, before television, many families would sit around and play music together for entertainment. Nowadays, there is a great emphasis on technique and skill, and whether a musician is “good enough” to play for others. Music making has become a somewhat reserved activity. The rest of us listen.

-excerpt from This is Your Brain on Music by Daniel J. Levitin

Airplane Serenades

Airplane Serenades

While queued for my Southwest Airlines flight checkin last night, an airline employee called me out on the intercom for wearing four hats stacked like Russian nesting dolls (the most affordable way to travel with multiple hats). The pilot, who happened to be nearby, then took a selfie with me. On the plane, one of the flight attendants asked about my ukulele, implying she was a fan of the late Hawaiian singer and ukulele player Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. I pulled the instrument out, she introduced me over the intercom as “Orange peel moses” and I proceeded to croon a verse of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” The airplane hilarity didn't end there. A crew member announced it was a passenger's birthday upon landing. When said passenger indicated she was the bday gal in question, I pulled my uke out again and sang the first verse of Stevie Wonder's “Happy Birthday.” Fellow passengers joined in for the chorus :)