The Sound of Silence

As much as I dislike Valentine’s Day (what could be less romantic than a day that requires one to be so?) I have to say, it’s even worse to spend it apart from the love of your life.

Michelle had no real say in the timing of her trip to see her parents. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity when it came, nor could she choose its timing. It just happens that this has been a particularly momentous week for the family, and it’s a shame she’s not here to share in it.

It’s especially unfortunate since many of the events center around Aly: she got her learner’s permit, got accepted to the college of her choice, and has been assured a place on an archaeological dig in Canada this summer.

One of the events, though, was mine, and I’m pleased to report that it went very well.

public reading of Shy Ghosts Dancing: Dark Tales from Southeast Alaska

"Once, though, she answered, simply: "Michael," and another time, "Shelikof Bay." Mark reads from Shy Ghosts Dancing: Dark Tales from Southeast Alaska at the Northern Lights Showcase (Photo: Aly Zeiger).

The Haines Arts Council’s Northern Lights Showcase last night was a great show! Most of the acts were musical, showcasing some amazing local talent. What tickled me most about the evening were the personal surprises: a favorite Bach prelude performed on concertina and banjo; the city clerk, whose talents I’d heard of, but never heard till last night, singing two particularly favorite songs; another young woman belting out a country classic that I’ve cherished since the death of my maternal grandfather. I also found it pleasing to realize that I recognized two of the three songs from the Tlingit dancers from Klukwan. Perhaps most of all, a performance of a song that our family dislikes so much, we actually get up and turn off the radio whenever it comes on. I still like it less when performed by the composer, but last night, hearing the words clearly, and enjoying the soaring harmonies and accompaniment, we loved it as much as everyone else seems to. They took a dirge and turned it into a glorious anthem.

My place in the program came right after the city clerk. Already keyed up to perform, and well rattled by hers, I climbed on stage and did what I could.

I’d cut my beloved story, Shelikof Bay, to the bone to bring it within the 12 minutes allowed each performer. I had last timed it at a minute to spare. I also noticed that some acts had gone long. No red lights flashed, no hook appeared to drag them offstage. I realized I could take it slow, “chew on the words,” as I told Aly, if I chose.

I have been performing off and on since I was quite young, but it had been a long time up until last night (I won’t count the museum reading, as the audience of one plus staff was far too intimate). Generally, when I’m on stage, I’m focused on what I’m doing too much to enjoy what’s happening. Last night was different. I still adlibbed on automatic, leading me to worry later whether I’d said anything offensive or not—that didn’t change, and probably never will. But, I actually had a few brief moments to gauge the audience, to listen to them. What I heard was silence. I seemed to have their full attention; they seemed to be caught up in the story, waiting to see what came next, caring about what happened. I seemed to be reaching them with the story I wanted to tell. It was very gratifying, as was their applause, and the congratulatory comments from friends and strangers afterward. A storyteller couldn’t ask for more. (You can download a free MP3 version of the full story, recorded at home, from our Website.)

I’d taken Aly out to dinner beforehand, to celebrate her achievements. We left the performance about 10:00 pm and drove home through a white out on drifted roads. Many of our neighbors attended, but they’d lingered afterward longer than we, so we broke trail on the road after a faint, lone trackway turned off. It had run right down the center of the road most of the way. With visibility ending about 6 feet in front of the grill, I worried, until I realized that no one would be heading to town at that time on Sunday night in these conditions. We plowed on through, bundled up, and plowed across the bay to home, a fierce north wind at our backs.

This morning we’ve got 50 knot winds, 10 foot seas, and blasts of sea spray 25-30 feet high. Outside temperature’s 12°F. The best thing I can say about Valentine’s Day is that it means that February, the pale pink month, is half over!

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3 Responses to The Sound of Silence

  1. Dan says:

    I am so glad your daughter did well in getting accepted for the college she wanted to go do. Our daughter Crystal was home schooled also and she too got accepted to the college of her choice. She received an academic scholarship based on her entrance exams. She now works for the State of NC as an veterinarian. Her job is taking care of the wild ponies on NC’s Outer Banks as well as other wildlife. I envy her living on the Outer Banks though. If I could just convince her to buy a larger house to take care of Dad in her old age now. LOLOL

  2. Dan says:

    PS I got so carried away bragging I almost forgot. Most home schooled kids learn so much more than others since they seem to develop a better sense of responsibility and also develop the ability to reason and figure things out themselves with much help or assistance. It makes them more self reliant.

  3. Mark Zeiger says:

    I agree, Dan. That’s apparently why so many colleges have begun actively seeking homeschoolers. They already know how to manage their time and study, a rare skill among most high school graduates.

    I’ve often heard of the Outer Banks, and long to see them some day. Crystal is very lucky to have such a great job, although luck probably had very little to do with it.

    Mark

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