Stacy Horn

Something happened yesterday that almost makes me believe in fate. I’m struggling with this section about Frank Damrosch, who started something called the People’s Singing Classes in 1892, in order to teach music to working men and women in New York City. Then I remembered that last year, I did a lot of research into New York in 1892. I realized that all that research gives what Damrosch did context. It really shows why those singing classes were such great thing (it was a rough year for anyone who wasn’t rich in New York). And I picked 1892 more or less out of a hat! Woohoo!

Every once in a while I take pictures of the people crossing the street on the opposite side from me. It just amazes me how many millions of people whose lives I cross, people I will never meet, never get to know.

Hello people I’ll probably never see again!

I’m struggling with a section that shouldn’t be so hard, but it is. My response? Goof off. I read an interesting but morbid article about what is being revealed as the Andes melt. Next I’m going to watch a PBS documentary about the 1918 flu epidemic. Yeah, I’m definitely on a morbid streak this morning. Maybe it’s Jack Lalanne dying.

I’m trying to write a short piece about Frank Damrosch. Anyone with good Frank Damrosch stories, please email me. I’m looking at you Juilliard graduates.

Here’s Buddy. Who has cancer (in keeping with the morbid theme). He’s fine though. For now.

The Harvard Glee Club performed last night at Grace Church. If I didn’t have a cat on me I’d run and grab the program to list my favorite pieces. I remember one was a Bruckner, and another was a Leonard Bernstein piece about the lonely men of Harvard, which he wrote while a student. He was briefly the accompanist for the Glee Club, but was fired after four weeks. Imagine!

At the end they invited all the Harvard Glee Club alumni in the audience to join them to sing Harvard football fight songs. Men of all ages came up out of the audience. I almost cried, there was something very sweet about it. During one song there was a call and answer thing, the men would sing something and women in the audience would call out “Radcliffe, Radcliffe.” I remembered when I worked for Harvard after graduating (from Tufts) I envied the strong community they had, and I felt it last night. It was really nice.

Anyway, I tried three different settings on my camera and none worked. This was the best of the lot, but everyone has these light reflecting devil eyes thing. This was at the end, when the alumni joined them.

SPOILER ALERT: Last night was the finale for the tv show Medium. I loved the Ghost and Mrs. Muir ending. It’s almost embarrassing how you come to care about tv characters, but I did love the Dubois family and it’s sad that I’ll never see another minute of them again. The show almost got too scary for me at times, but all the family scenes were just so real and endearing. Goodbye and thanks for a great show.

Anthony Hopkins’ face looming above … Park Avenue, I think it was. Imagine if this were your face. This was HUGE (I was very far away).

This week, I’m not even looking east, the direction of my dentist’s office. Yesterday was supposed to be the day I’d take it easy, my reward for enduring all the dental nightmares. And what happens? I had to go back to the dentist and endure more nightmares. Shudder.

So I’m heading to the dreaded dentist office and police lights start flashing and sirens go off … from within a taxi! They’re going undercover in taxis now! I didn’t notice it at the time, but it looks like this cop is covering his face like I’m the paparazzi, which I guess I kinda was.