I initially thought of calling this monthly column “A New Yorker in California.” There are multiple differences in communication style between the country’s two farthest edges, and they are exactly...
I am writing this on Easter Sunday. I don’t celebrate this holiday, or any religious observance, but the spirit of the day has me thinking about...
I use this phrase often with my private students. In musical terms, what it means is, you don’t have to do a lot for the new...
I am writing this on January 20, which is the deadline for this month’s Troubadour columns. In fact, the columns are due every month on the...
Boom. December. WTF. How was it for you? It was pretty good here, except for that marauding elephant that entered the room and then pooped all...
When my son was little, he came home from elementary school and started work on a painting he’d learned the technique for in art class. He...
Most of my private students are adults. I greatly respect the humbling impulse to turn ourselves—grown-ass humans—into learners again. In some ways, the process of growing...
Well, twenty-ish, but we’re going with it. Twenty years ago, my decision to quit a Perfectly Good Job and pursue only music-related endeavors culminated in the...
This month marks 25 years since my father died. It is also the month my son—my oldest child—graduates high school. My column this month will be...
