I was at the Ciaramella concert Sat. night, had my loud band withdrawal exacerbated and am inspired to play more, And I’ve been thinking about this piee of Beck’s.
There’s a problem in that, even within my discipline, I spread myself way too thin. I’m a composer, I play half a dozen early winds, I have a church singing job, I occasionally get inspired to work on fiddle tunes on my mandolin. I can’t prioritize, even though I “should”, because it’s all way too cool.
But what’s killing me is the farm…the 2 1/2 hr per day commute, and all the time planting and harvesting. It’s not that I don’t enjoy it, because I do. But in terms of income, it makes no sense. Even the crappy pay of music returns more. Why am I out here, doing what I do, if it’s not the highest use for my time?
If this were the 1950s or earlier, when we had the blessings of at least less screwed government, the answer would be simple: I’m nuts. It’s a little more complex now. I’m out here as part of a rational plan. At some point Real Soon Now, the cities will become uninhabitable, and the economy unsustainable. When that happens, I’ll be prepared…I’ll be out of the city, have land, and know a little what to do with it. I will be “less than I could have been”, perhaps; maybe Western Civilization will deprived of x number of masterpieces (or messterpieces). But I and my loved ones will exist.
That’s what “rational economic planning” looks like, in the absence of a rational economy. And It’s not like I’m the first to experience it. Think of any number of German musicians during the 30 Years War (Schütz did better than most.). Or the guys in Europe 70 years ago who had to choose between America and the concentration camp. Nothing to be done but suck it up and get busy. And get the product out there…there won’t be a midnight knock, because no-knock raids are all the rage.
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