Stephen's Secure Blog #218
These stories about Stephen began was when he was 10 years old, and
moving to a new part of the country to attend a special school for
gifted students, in the 1950's. This was from a time before computers
would fit on a desk, and when people communicated with friends in other
countries by actual letters sent through the postal service. He wrote
225 of them to a friend. He stopped writing to his penpal, but found he
still wanted to record his life, in case he lost his memory again, and
wrote 30 entries in his first logbook. Then he wrote to an artificial
intelligence called Geenee, in the master computer in his school for
gifted students, which he started attending in 2016. Now it's after
2018, and he's continuing to save his memories in a secure blog.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stephen is 16 in this story, in the Fall of year 7 of his special
school.
Stephen's Secure Blog #218 "Imposing Composing"
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Rose, Hawk, and I, arrived early in the morning at the venue. We
helped the staff set up the stage. Then we helped the arriving
musicians set up their stations, and some of their larger instruments.
I helped with their preliminary tuning. I had already told the manager
I would be doing all that, and he was happy to let me. He did visit
often, but just to watch. I had asked him to reserve the tickets for
the dance band. Some of them arrived early, and we let them help. They
already had their instruments in the hotel.
Then the grand piano arrived. It was an old Steinway. I tested it.
The action was off, and the tuning was terrible. A tuning technician
came with it, and he had a lot of problems. He was going to arrange for
another piano to be delivered, when I said, "No, we will fix this one."
I took it apart and showed him what was wrong, and how it should be
fixed, and did that. Then we tuned it. He was amazed I could do that
accurately by ear, without using instruments. Then I played some really
difficult selections on it, and it worked very well. The tuner said
"That was amazing! Your talent is wasted in just instrument repair. You
should perform." Hawk laughed. Rose told him, "Stephen IS the performer
something, he learns ALL about it, and becomes the best at it, who ever
lived. He makes all his own instruments." He said "Wow!" I said to him,
"If you are available, and would like to attend, I could give you a
ticket." He said "Please! I would like that very much!" I did that,
which I had reserved just for that kind of thing, which included Srinoy
and his parents.
Then some people came in and started setting up television cameras. I
went to the manager, and asked him about that. He said "It's not for
live broadcast, but for news coverage." I said "Their equipment is not
just for news, and they are taking up too much room." We went to see,
and he realized I was right. He was reluctant to argue with them, from
his position as the manager of the hotel. Bad publicity would be
harmful. I said "Would you like me to handle it on my own authority?"
He said "If you don't involve me or the hotel, please." I went to the
people there and said, "Who is in charge here?" One introduced himself
and said he was the producer and reporter. I said "What is your purpose
here?" He said "We are setting up for a live broadcast." I said "Who
gave you the authority to do that?" He said "I assume the hotel manager
did. That was arranged at a higher level." I said "He did not. I just
spoke to him. I have complete control over this performance. You will
not broadcast live. Your equipment is taking up too much space, and
looks ugly, at that. Please remove it." He said "I would have to see
the manager." Hawk went to get him, and he said to the producer, "He is
the artist. In exchange for not taking money for this, he has complete
control. If that is interfered with, he will cancel the event." The
producer said, "Thank you for your information. I will check with my
station." He called. I heard that, naturally. Then he said to me,
"Artists need publicity. I don't believe you would cancel the show just
for this." I said "You are correct about not canceling it. I won't need
to. I will allow you two shoulder cameras, battery operated, not live,
and you, and three of your people who will keep out of the way. If all
other equipment isn't removed in fifteen minutes, there will be
consequences. I suggest you get to work, because what I might do might
damage things."
After that time, there was even more equipment. I said to him, "You
were warned. None of your equipment will have power now. Not even your
phones. I suggest you get to work." He tried things, and became very
frustrated. I called his station manager, and explained the problem. He
said he would come right over. Ten minutes later, he arrived. He
shouted at his people. They started removing equipment. He came to me
and apologized. I said "This room just isn't big enough to have all
that here, and still leave comfortable room for the paying audience,
who are NOT expecting a live broadcast." He said "I agree.
Unfortunately for this situation, my reporters are very competitive." I
grinned and said, "I do understand, but I'm a little curious why your
reporter isn't more er, aware of the news your station has been
covering." He grinned and said, "I'll be talking about that to him,
when we get back to the station, AFTER the show. He should have known
who you are, and obeyed you instantly. I thank you sincerely for being
er, not as strong with him as you could have." I said "You're welcome.
I love Thailand and its people, and I would like to continue to favor
this country in some things. Would you like to be more of a part of
that?" He gave me a gigantic grin, and said, "This is more than I dared
hope for. Yes, it would be a great honor!" I said "I don't know how you
can talk like that. Doesn't it hurt?" He laughed, and then said, "I see
the stories about your humor are true." I bowed and said, "Perhaps we
could continue this discussion in your office some time this week." He
agreed. He stayed to manage the crew himself.
I sat for a while with Srinoy and his parents, and Rose and Hawk.
Rose said, "You planned that." I said "Not exactly." She said "If you
are going to be involved directly with the media, Thailand would be the
best choice, because they will treat you more carefully, and with more
reverence, than any other country would." I said "Yes, that was
planned, but not exactly how it happened. I was going to go after it
right after the show, using that as incentive. I don't mind how it
happened, though. Situation Managers need to be flexible enough to
accept events as they happen, and take useful advantage of them." Rose
said to Srinoy, "Another axiom is, never make an enemy you don't need
to. Stephen was justified in doing much worse to the crew, but he
didn't, and instead made a real friend of the station manager, after
letting him handle the problem." I said "Yes. Following the chain of
command is usually the best course of action, to achieve the best
results. But sometimes it isn't, and then you need to remove the
blockage. For instance, in the military, it is often the senior
management who are the least capable of being usefully er, influenced."
They grinned at that.
We all went to a different room, which we were using as a staging and
dressing area, and had lunch served there. Then the musicians of us
played around with some popular tunes and jazz improvisations. The
museum director and his wife came in, and we did some talking. He and I
decided to do a run through of his piece. I had an electric piano
there, and he had brought his flute, naturally. It went very well. Rose
told him about the problem with the reporter, and he grinned a lot. I
poked him and said, "Hey, don't strain your lips!" He tried to push
them back into place with his fingers, unsuccessfully, and made us
laugh. Then they went out into the hotel and shopping mall to look
around. I said "I'm sorry, I can't go with you. I could be recognized,
and that could really disrupt things." Srinoy said "You could use a
disguise." I said "Doing that in front of people could be a little
awkward, and being in charge, I should stay and keep an eye or two on
things." They agreed, and went.
I went to the main room, and sat at the piano, and started playing. I
drifted off into a trance-like state, and music happened like I had
never heard before. After twenty five minutes, I came out of it, and
looked around. Everybody had their jaws hanging open. Even my friends
who had gone out to the mall. They must have come back when they saw in
their viewpoints on me, that I was playing something different. I said
"What are you all looking like that for?" Hawk came to me and said, "Do
you remember what you just played?" I checked and said, "Oh. Just
something I thought up as I was going along." He poked me and said,
"Really. Just that?" Rose came up and said, "That was the most
incredible thing I have ever heard on a piano. It was like you were
your own orchestra, and your hands were really flying. Hawk, check and
see if it's still smoking." He grinned. Then I noticed the station
manager was looking really bad. I asked him about that, and he said,
"We didn't capture it." I said "Don't worry, I'll see you get a
recording of it, after I figure out what all the fuss is about." He
said "You were glowing!" I said "Oh. Did everybody see that?" They did.
I said "Er, what color?" The station manager said, "LIke a rainbow, but
mostly orange." I said "Ah, yes. The color of creativity. Hmm, I'll try
not to do that again." He yelled, "No! Don't say that! Don't ever stop
that! We need it for the world!" Then he covered his mouth in horror,
for speaking seriously out of turn. Rose went to him and hugged him,
and said, "Right. We all agree with you." Hawk said "Makes a good
lightbulb, too." I laughed.
Chad contacted me and said he had a perfect recording of it. He said
other embarrassing things, too. Then I decided to play something safe.
The Volga Boatmen. I played it very slowly. Then a little faster, and
then faster still, until I was really flying, and everybody was
clapping and stomping their feet to the beat. After the dramatic
finish, I said, "Thanks for the accompaniment." They laughed. Somebody
said, "Can you sing?" I said "I haven't done much of that. Rose, would
you kindly take over here?" She sat at the piano, and I said,
"Godfather." She grinned, and started playing the intro, and I
accompanied her on the violin. Then I sang in English, "Speak Softly
Love," with my full ability and emotion. I accompanied the piano on
violin in the middle, and then resumed singing. After I stopped, and
stood up from my bow, there was dead silence. You could almost hear a
pin decide not to drop. Then Hawk said, "Yes, he can sing." Then there
was a lot of applause. I looked at the station manager, and he gave me
a thumb's up. We grinned at each other.
The conductor arrived. Some of his musicians tried to tell him about
what I had been doing, which he had trouble believing. He saw me
grinning at that, and laughed. I wandered over to the harp. The harpist
was not at it, but nearby, looking hopeful. I motioned to the
instrument, and she nodded permission. I sat at it, and puled it to me.
I tested the pedal action. Most people don't know that the harp has a
row of pedals at the bottom, to change pitch in different ways. It's
the only way you can get sharps and flats on it, and you have to be as
fast with your foot as you are with your hand, to play it well. I made
sure it was in tune, and started playing some simple tunes. Then some
more complicated things which were written for the instrument. Then I
did some transpositions on the fly, of some Bach pieces. Then I tried
something I wasn't sure was possible. I created and played my own
transposition and arrangement of Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez,
shortened to ten minutes. It worked.
When I was finished, I bowed to the harpist, and thanked her for the
use of her instrument. There were a lot of dropped jaws again,
specially the conductor's. I said "Did I do something strange again?"
Hawk said "No, you just played something nobody ever heard before on
the harp, an instrument you never played before." I said "But I didn't
light up again, right?" He nodded. I said "Fine then. What shall I do
next? Any ideas?" He said "What about nothing?" I said "I don't do that
nothing thing. Hmm, that didn't work in Thai." I said it again in
English. Then "Next?" He said "Drums?" I went to the tympani. I tapped
one with my fingers, and got an acceptable sound. Then the other. Then
I tapped harder. Then I had all the fingers of one hand on one drum,
and the fingers of the other hand on the other drum, and I started
tapping out different rhythms, using all my fingers individually. I
varied the sound by where on the drums I tapped. I built up some rhythm
sets, and then combined them in different ways, and varied the tempo,
with different kinds of syncopation. Then I made them more intense, and
then a little wild. I was really going at it, when Hawk made a hard
contact and told me to stop. I did.
I looked around, and people were twitching and jumping all over, and
aroused, too. I projected calmness, and they quieted down. I said "To
all, I apologize. I didn't realize I was causing such a disturbance."
Srinoy said "I liked it!" I bowed to him, and he grinned. I said to
Hawk, "You thought that would be safe, didn't you." He laughed and
said, "I was absolutely wrong! That was the most dangerous instrument
you played." I said, moving off the stage, "Drums were our first made
instruments, often used in rituals, and to enhance magic." Rose said,
"All life is rhythm, and drums er, tap into that." I grinned and said,
"Good one! True, though." We wandered into the other room, discussing
the history and evolution of music and its effects on people, with
fellow Guardians, and dance musicians, and then Chad, when he walked
in. The conductor really wanted to be in on that, but had to stay with
the orchestra. I indicated to Srinoy, and he went and told him he would
get a recording of the discussion. He felt a lot better then. We had
supper brought in, and the orchestra came to eat with us.
I told the station manager, "I'll give you HD recordings of
everything, but only on the condition that you only can broadcast ten
to thirty seconds or less of each song, for news purposes." He said
"That's standard practice. I agree." I grinned and said, "You know they
are going to go viral. Make sure your station ID is on them." He said
"Another standard practice, but thank your for your support. It means a
lot to me." I said "But you are not getting the drum solo. Too
dangerous." He said "I have to agree, even though I don't want to. I
will erase the recording." I said "That's alright. I just did that. No,
no methods." He nodded. I said "Other people who try to record my
performance here are going to be a little disappointed." He grinned and
nodded.
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Grant
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