year of the accordion – Page 2

Well, it’s certainly not the year of social media. I don’t have time for social media. Or I don’t prioritize it, I should say. What I have left is the blog that I’ve had since 2008 or 2009… don’t remember. Sadly, I meant to return to jilldomschot.com after killing it, but it was purchased by an Asian company and is parked with what appear to be Chinese words on it. So, while I’ve been blogging for over ten years, the blog has had peaks and valleys, and I’ve lost a lot of content. Not that I care really. Most of my posts were throwaway, trying to meet post quotas while following my interests at the time. I have some sadness over losing my 18th century historical content, but it does not go deep.

I’ve determined this to be the year of the accordion because it’s what I value at the moment. I don’t mean that I don’t value God, family, work, etc. Those are on another tier of value. When I was in my late thirties, I used to read a blog written by a British lady who had dedicated her forties to learning to play the accordion and to doing the other things she’d put off as a younger person. It was called Rainbows and… I can’t remember. I believe she also gardened and wrote poetry or did photography. I wish I could find her blog again, but alas, I don’t have a blogspot follow widget any longer. How time marches on. Her blog inspired me to dedicate my forties to several goals. Being that I will turn fifty in 2023, I’d like to assess how far I’ve gotten.

My goals were these: learn the accordion, write and publish a science fiction novel, and finish a mechanical engineering degree. Let’s start with the accordion.

When my husband bought me my Hohner, I had just turned forty, and it was therefore our 20th anniversary. We were a little drunk at the local pub, and he bought it from his phone, just like that. At first, I found it a little difficult to learn. The typical norteño accordion is a diatonic, with different notes played squeezing in vs pulling out. I went through the tutorial books that came with the accordion, one of which taught reading music in a handful of lessons before forcing the student to suddenly read it with no help. I have had little formal musical education. While I know the music system, I never learned to read music well enough to use as a guide for songs. I looked for other ways to learn my instrument but ended up leaving the accordion in Socorro when we moved to Roswell. This was no slight toward the accordion. I moved over here before the rest of the family and brought almost nothing with me, not even my books. At some point, I went back for the accordion and still did not play it for some time because I was busy and overwhelmed. Finally, I decided I would dedicate a half hour a day to really learning the instrument. You know the rest of the story, I think. Just as I was familiar and proficient enough to play my instrument sans craning my neck to look at the buttons while I played scales and songs, it was destroyed in a car accident, and I had to learn the feel of a new, slightly bigger Gabbanelli. I’ve since doubled my practice time. Have I learned to play the accordion in my forties? Yes, but there isn’t a magic line to playing an instrument, is there? In a year’s time, I will play it better than I do now. And a year after that…

Did I publish a science fiction book? Sure, a jokey one called The Minäverse and then one about the Roswell aliens called Order of the PenTriagon. I doubled my goal regarding that, and I somehow managed to do it while working full-time. This is where my forties began to blur into desperate attempts at achieving my goals in whatever manner possible. On my days off or before my shifts, I would take classes at the community college and stop at the local coffee shop to work for a while on my books. I did not, however, achieve the degree. There isn’t a full university here, in any case, but I still tried to scrap it all together. I even considered finishing a math associates degree and taking a welding course. But the welding course was very expensive and seemed an impossibility while working. The last attempt I made at this goal was to sign up for online classes in January 2020, but I had a strange feeling in my gut that it would be a bad idea to use my savings on these classes, and I dropped them at the last minute. When the Covid shutdown hit, I lost my work and didn’t have money coming in for months. I was a contract and freelance laborer by that time, and while I’d heard I could go before a hearing to get the Covid unemployment for this kind of work (I had several friends who successfully achieved this), I chose to wait until people stopped being ridiculously afraid and depressed and send work my way again. I could understand the tutoring and substitute teaching disappearing, as schools were closed and parents were afraid to have people come to their houses. But losing the editing I didn’t really understand. I had a number of books scheduled during this time, but the authors couldn’t concentrate to write, I guess. They were depressed and distracted. I tend to throw myself into work to avoid depression, but not everyone operates that way.

The upshot is, people can make all the plans they want, but life throws you the unexpected. For example, when I turned forty, I didn’t expect to move to Roswell, of all places. And while science fiction predictions have often become real, it’s difficult to ascertain which will and which will not turn into reality. The world wasn’t ready for the absolute ridiculousness of 2020 and beyond. So, that’s where I sit. I don’t know that I’m going to make any life goals or dedicate my fifties to anything. I’m just going to keep going and putting work in, as work is what I do; it’s what I’ve always done. Perhaps I will dedicate the coming decade to trying to hear God’s voice better and living in his will. Meanwhile, I’ve been learning a song on the accordion called Corrido de Juanito. It’s a very sad song by Calibre 50. I might or might not have posted the video before.

I don’t make them, though they are, I’m sure, worthwhile if you have the gumption to carry them out. On the other hand, I’ve made all manner of resolutions to keep on moving forward, no matter how tired and listless I feel. There’s no choice but to do that. There’s no point in sitting around waiting to find out if something is meant to happen by design or fate.

Do you remember that old movie Stranger Than Fiction? As a writer of fiction, I enjoyed the concept of that movie quite a bit, in a which an author is writing people into existence. After her hero realizes he’s a book character, an English professor — a professor with an expertise on the phrase Little did he know… — recommends that he sit around and do nothing all day to find out how much free will he has according to the story world. Alas, a wrecking ball destroys his apartment, suggesting his deck is stacked. Rather than allowing this deterministic universe get the better of him, he chooses to live in a way he’d never allowed himself to live before. E.g., he learns to play the guitar and falls in love. Of course, this being an old movie, spoilers don’t matter, right? Ultimately, he chooses to live the purpose he was written for and sacrifice his life to save a little boy.

The author realizes that she’s unwittingly become a monster and decides that it would be wrong to kill off a man who’s willing to sacrifice his life for others. Therefore, she changes the ending of her story, despite that it ruins the great artistic aesthetic of the work. Movies like this are rare, which is why it stuck with me. It’s philosophical, it’s fundamentally pro-life, it’s funny, and it has a happy ending.

But mostly, I don’t want to be the person who waits for fate to bring her a wrecking ball. For that reason, I should make resolutions, but I’m sorry; I’m just too busy. My list is already full. If fate, that is, God, wants me to do more, he’s going to have to make that clear.

On the other hand, it’s the tradition to have a New Year’s song, which is, fatefully, whatever comes on the radio as the clock strikes midnight. Who listens to the radio these days? We used to in the car on the way back from Albuquerque after our New Year’s Eve movie (LOTR and The Hobbit trilogy kept us going for a lot of years.) I do listen to the radio, though. I have a radio app on my phone. To stay awake, we were watching a movie called Alpha (highly recommend). As it approached midnight, I put in my earbuds and tried to find a channel that wasn’t playing ads. My husband had fallen asleep despite the film, and it was obvious I had to find a song on my own.

Finally, just before it was too late, I clicked on a Tejano station, which began to play Un rinconcito en el cielo. I smiled at the accordion intro. You see, when I first explored Norteño by listening to the Mexican stations coming out of Albuquerque, that song had taken my breath away. I fell in love with the accordion, and there was no going back. This song was how it started, and now I can play it on my very own Gabbanelli. I’m happy and grateful my New Year song is this one. It puts a positive spin on my year. This might sound superstitious to some people, but it’s really not. It’s a game, and not so very different from choosing a word to be the theme of the year, except I let the radio choose it for me. Whatever the case, I must find inspiration in it. Let me tell you, it’s not easy to find inspiration in all songs. I cringe when I consider my New Year song could have been from a country station if it hadn’t been playing ads. Maybe if Garth Brooks sang Standing Outside the Fire it might be inspirational. But what are the odds of that? Then again, what are the odds of music existing at all unless there’s a creator? I don’t know. It’s kind of difficult to create a set of odds with an infinite God as the one given.