Scroll down for the story behind this song.



I wrote this about three weeks ago.  Though composing music is my life, it has never been my livlihood.  So I've spent most of my time doing things other than those I love.

Recently, I've gotten my life together (internally at least) far more than I ever have before.  As a result, I'm allowing myself to put aside the practical from time to time and to embrace the objects and endeavors of my passions.

Hence, this song.  I'm a far better composer than a musician, but perhaps that is due more to the lack of practice (I've gone for years at a time without playing a lick, then maybe playing for half an hour every couple of weeks) than to a lack of ability.  I imagine now that I'm becoming more involved in the craft, we shall see.

        

        

        

I wrote this one when I was 31.  I first became interested in music at age 11 or 12 when my step-father, who played music by ear, bought an old upright "saloon style" piano for our living room so he could practice.  As my mom told it, she was doing dishes in the kitchen and heard a song coming from the piano that she didn't recognize.  She came out to ask my step-dad what it was, and found me playing the piano.

Later, she tried giving me lessons, but I hated them, and that endeavor ended quickly!  But I loved playing, and stole away to the keyboard every chance I got.

Throughout my teenage years I became enveloped by the joy of composing my own songs, but always longed for a way to record them since I couldn't write music.  Eventually, we got a tape recorder, and the very first song I wrote with purpose was recorded as part of the soundtrack for a proposed feature-length animation my parents were creating about my step-dad's experiences as a scoutmaster.

"The Adventures of the Mighty Toad Patrol" never went anywhere, but I still have the full-length program on tape, as well as all the character and scenario sketches that my step-father (also a wonderful artist!) had drawn.

Just after I got married, I started researching the new multi-track tape recorders, specifically by TEAC and AKAI.  (Remember, I grew up before 8-track tapes and cassettes, and CDs weren't even imagined.)  Finally, in at the end of the 70's I saved enough money to get my expensive tape deck (several hundreds of dollars - a chunk of change back then!).  I wrote a number of songs but never did anything with them.

I started messing around with multi-tracks and bouncing mixes back and forth to squeeze additional tracks into the mix.  I had a CZ101 synthesizer from Casio - an analog keyboard that was, I believe, one of the first consumer level off-the-shelf synths ever produced.  I will have mine right here in the living room with me as I type.

It had a wonderful sound and, being analog, was endlessly programmable.  Though it came with a hundred pre-built sounds, each one could be modified, right down to the wave form.  I also still love the bend wheel, which created some amazing effects I was never able to duplicate with any modern digital synth.

But I digress.  Simply, I created a whole collection of original multi-tracked compositions over the years, one of which is the song above.  It was composed about the time the original Miami Vice series was on television, which relied heavily on synth music for the score, and shows that influence.

 

        

I wrote this in one sitting during the contested presidential election of 2000.  In my eternal optimism I gave it a happy ending but alas, such was not to be in the real world.

How the Grinch Stole the Election
                                  
by Doctored Suits

Every voter                                                       
in Sun-ville
Liked counting a lot...

But the Grinch,
Who lived outside of Sun-ville,
Did NOT!

The Grinch hated counting! The whole counting season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that his head wasn't screwed on quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that his style was too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his lead was two precincts too small.

But,
Whatever the reason,
His style or his lead,
He stood on Election Eve, seething with greed,
Staring down from his tower with a sour, Grinchy frown
At the ballots being counted below in the town.
For he knew every Voter in Sun-ville beneath
Was busy now, weaving a victory wreath.

"And they're still counting votes!" he snarled with a sneer.
"Last night was Election! Yet it is still here!"
Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep counting from coming!"

For, tomorrow, he knew all the canvassing boards
Would wake up bright and early. They'd gather in hordes!
And then! Oh, the votes! Oh, the votes! Votes! Votes! Votes!
That's one thing he hated! The VOTES! VOTES! VOTES! VOTES!

Then the folks, young and old, would sit down to a count.
And they'd count! And they'd count!
And they'd COUNT! COUNT! COUNT! COUNT!
They would start on debating, cards punched, poked and creased.
Which was something the Grinch couldn't stand in the least!

And THEN They'd do something he liked least of all!
Every voter down in Sun-ville, the tall and the small,
Would recount the vote, adding in every chad.
Then they'd alter the tally, and that would be bad!

They'd change! And they'd change!
AND they'd CHANGE! CHANGE! CHANGE! CHANGE!
And the more the Grinch thought that the totals would alter,
The more the Grinch thought, "I must make this thing falter!
"Why for fifty-three years I've put up with it now!
I MUST stop recounting from coming!
...But HOW?"

Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE GRINCH
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" The Grinch Laughed into court.
Then he made a quick law suit, the counting to thwart.
And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Grinchy trick!
"With this law suite and plea, They'll elect me and Dick!"

"All I need is a scapegoat..."  The Grinch looked around.
But since scapegoats are scarce, there was none to be found.
Did that stop the old Grinch...? No! The Grinch simply said,
"If I can't find a scapegoat, I'll make one instead!"
So he called on Katherine. Then he called up his brother,
And together they made her the consummate Mother.

THEN He spun up a mess,
And called in the press.
He threw them Harris,
Whom he let them embarrass.

Then the Grinch said, "No Fair!"
And the "suits" started down
Toward the precincts where voters
Counted votes in their town.

Accusations were dark. Rhetoric filled the air.
All the precincts recounted their votes without care
When he came to the first court he found in the square.

"This is stop number one," The old candidate hissed
And he climbed to the stage, legal briefs in his fist.

Then he slid through the loopholes. A rather tight pinch.
But if Clinton could do it, then so could the Grinch.
He got stuck only once, but he bypassed states' rights,
When he stuck his head into some Federal fights,
Where the precincts' recounts were stacked in a row.
"These recounts," he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpalette,
Around the whole process, both supreme and appellate!
Honesty!! Manners! Truth and Fair Play!
Equality! Accuracy! Undermined day by day.
All of these went. Then between judge's mallets,
The butterfly errors were thrown out as bad ballots!

Then he slunk back to Texas. Having hijacked the race!
He side-stepped the airwaves! He tried to save face!
He claimed the high ground, the unspeakable cad.
Yet, that Grinch even took last dangling chad!

Then he stuffed all the votes through the loopholes with glee.
"And NOW!" grinned the Grinch, "I will shackle the free!"

And the Grinch grabbed their freedom, and started to shove
When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.
He turned around fast, and he saw one of the free!
Little I-Don't-Know Who, had not voted, you see.

The Grinch had been caught by this little known faction,
Who'd got off the couch for a piece of the action.
She stared at the Grinch and said, "Candidate, why,
"Why are you hurting democracy? WHY?"

But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!
"Why, my sweet little plebe," the Candidate lied,
"There's a part of the law that is not on my side.
"So I'm taking it back to the courthouse, my dear.
"I'll fix it up there. Then I'll bring it back here."

And his fib fooled the voter. He had soothed all her fears
Then  he sent her to prison for fifty-three years.
And when I-Don't-Know Who turned her back on the pup,
HE went to the courts and screwed the law up!

Then the last thing he took
Was their faith in the system.
Then he went through the loophole himself: he dismissed 'em.
In their lives he left nothing but lies, and that pissed 'em.

And the one speck of truth
The he left in the place
Was too small for even the least dignified race.

Then
He did the same thing
To the other poll places

Leaving truth
Much too small
For less dignified races!

It was nearly December...
All the networks, confused
All the voters, unsure
As his rhetoric oozed,
Through the papers! The news desk! The news magazine!
The internet! TV! Not to mention Katherine!

The Grinch had his agenda laid out on the docket!
The electoral college, snug in his pocket!
"Pooh-pooh to the voters!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming.
"They're finding out now this recount's not coming!
"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
"Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
"The all the voters in Sun-ville will all cry BOO-HOO!"

"That's a noise," grinned the Grinch,
"That I simply must hear!"
So he paused. And the Grinch put a hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the land.
It started out bland. Then it grew and was Grand...

But the sound wasn't weak!
Why, this sound sounded strong!
It couldn't be so!
But it WAS strong! And long!

He stared down at Sun-ville!
The Grinch popped his eyes!
Then he shook!
What he saw was a shocking surprise!

Every Voter down in Sun-ville, the small and the tall,
Was happy without any winner at all!
He HADN'T stopped the recounting from ending! IT stopped!
By itself, when the ratings had dropped!

And the Grinch, with his grinch-lies ice-cold in his mouth,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "What's wrong with the South?
It stopped without law suits! It stopped without lies !
"It stopped without winners, or losers or ties!"

And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe freedom," he thought, "doesn't come from a score.
"Maybe freedom...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

And what happened then...?
Well...in Sun-ville they say
That the Grinch's small outlook
Grew expansive that day!
And the minute his style didn't feel quite so tight,
He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light
And he brought back the ballots! And put them in place!
And he...

...HE HIMSELF...!
The Grinch conceded the race!

        

Scroll down to read the story behind this picture...



Teresa and I lived in Pine Mountain Club, California for about five years ending in 2005.  PMC is a private mountain community in central California in a bowl-shaped valley at 6,000 feet, surrounded by 9,000 foot peaks.  Much of the land is designated as wilderness, and maintained in pristine condition.

This particular photograph was taken in the Fall in a central meadow that acts as a watershed for the surrounding town.  I was attracted by the odd swirl patterns of the grass and reeds and by the color and brightness contrasts between the foreground browns and the background blues.

        

Scroll down for the story behind this song....




Composing music is my favorite means of expression.  And yet, over the years I seem to find less time for this particular endeavor than any other activity.

Recently, there was a lull in business and I thought I'd steal a moment to put some feelings into music.  Teresa was just about to take a shower, so I fired up the ol' keyboard while she did.  When she came out, I presented this rough sketch of a song to share with her the kind of music I was toying with at the moment.

This particular sound is heavily influenced by my recent interest in the work of Tori Amos.  The treble line was added in a separate track extemporaneously, so there are a number of mis-steps and muffed notes.  But, this isn't a finished product - just a an audible page from my composer's sketchbook so I won't forget the musical concept should I ever decide to return and finish the piece.

        

This is a different kind of blog.  While most blogs list entries chronologically to literally provide a "web log" of a person's passions, this blog also removes entries which no longer reflect my passions. 

In this manner, my blog becomes an ever-evolving self portrait - like a constantly changing sand painting that is never the same from one moment to the next.

Most people, especially creative artists, desire almost above all else to have others see them as they see themselves.

Part of what we portray about ourselves is accurate, part wishful thinking, and part intentional omission so that true facts of our past do not color our image with shadings we believe we have left behind.

I am no exception to this desire.  For me, my self-image is fleeting - fluid in the extreme, and so the contents of this blog shall be fluid as well.

When something I post here appears to me to be of lasting interest, it will make its way onto my personal web site, which documents my activities, experiences, considerations, and attitudes both in categories and sequentially, year by year.

And while that site does represent the highlights and flow of journey over time, only this blog expresses the essence of myself in the present.

Judge me by what I've done.

Know me by who I am.

Melanie Anne