Stamina is still somewhat of an issue for me. Yesterday I was spending time with someone at work trying to figure out a problem on his computer. I had a lot of other things going on as well. So, I was under a bit of stress. We were both sitting at the work bench and I rested my head on my hand and took this big long sigh. He told me I looked tired. I told him, "Right now, it's a bit tough. I have to conserve my energy." I used to wonder how long this would continue, but that too is a part of me that has changed. Perhaps it's better just to list them out...

1. I don't take anything at all for granted now because I know it could all end in the blink of an eye. That means me. It's ok though. I'm happy and I've found the most important thing one can have in life: love. I have no regrets.
   
2. I don't live for my job any longer. Much of my responsibility has been outsourced. I'm sure the company did that to protect themselves as well. But, it's allowed me to do what I'm able to do without sacrificing my well being.
3. I've stopped worrying about when I will get more stamina back. It will happen when if happens. If it doesn't, I'll do what I can to keep what I have. I'm not going to worry about it. Why worry about something you have little control over? I'll try to build it up the best I can, and that will have to be good enough.
   
4. My focus is on my body. To that end, I've drastically cut back on drinking, especially hard liquor. It's been replaced by the likes of pomegranate juice, Greek yogurt (sounds gross, but I love the texture), coffee, no more soda, very little meat. In fact, I'm practically vegetarian now and strangely enough, I don't miss meat much. There are so many amazing recipes that are vegetarian.
   
5. Focus on blood levels. Last blood test was out of the park for low cholesterol. Doctor was impressed and I wasn't even trying to get the cholesterol low. I was just doing my normal everyday diet.
   
6. I'm very grateful that I have a job! I am happy they kept me through all of this. But, in this economy, who knows what will happen. I've stopped worrying about that because I cannot effect the outcome.
7. Stress not! If I'm confronted with too much stress, I take a time out and walk away. If someone starts getting under my skin at work and I feel my blood pressure rising, I turn right around and walk away from the situation. I'm in control.
8. Total loss of interest in politics or social issues. That includes groups that seem to like to take my money to support "our issues", but never get anything done. I think all politicians are self centered worthless beings who only care about their own self interests and getting reelected, which is why our government is no longer working.
9. FINALLY, a loss of interest in writing. It's not that I don't like to write, but it's not a priority any longer, but don't give up on me. I'm working on that. Perhaps smaller, but more frequent updates? Maybe it's depression. I have quite a bit of that going on lately, but it's not going to stop me. But, I still have my bad days like everyone else I guess.

Those are just a few of the things. I do still drink wine, and in the evenings, I still have a bit of single malt Scotch once in awhile, but I've largely laid off martinis. Maybe I grew out of them. I learned an interesting tidbit on alcohol. Not only is it high in calories, but it also triggers a reaction in the body to stop burning fat. So it's a double whammy for weight gain. When I read that, my feeling was, "Screw that!"

The other thing I miss is having people over for dinner. Last Sunday, we had a few friends over for the first time since my operation last June. I still love doing it, but evenings can be a challenge for me, energy wise. So, we just have to plan it out a bit more. We prepare things that can be made ahead of time and serve things that don't take a lot of last minute preparation. Energy output done quickly just wipes me out. I guess I'm disappointed that I'm not bouncing back faster. I have to keep comparing where I am now to where I was a few months ago, so I can see progress.

Anyway, that's the update. I hope to write more soon.

On June 5th, I went in for double bypass heart surgery. It would seem that I have the same condition that took my father's life way back in 1961. But in 2009, medical advances have made it possible to save my life.

What followed the operation was a long recovery that was painful and slow. But every single awful thing in life has a silver lining. In my case, that lining was made of gold. This is what came out of this experience I had...

1) I'm lucky to be alive. I thank my doctor for this who, on a hunch, sent me for tests that proved that I was not suffering from asthma, but something far more dangerous. If he had not done that, the specialists said that there was an 80% chance that I would be dead within three years.

2) I'm lucky to have had so much support during this time. Our parents (Kent's folks) have been amazing. They flew out to stay with us for two weeks after I was released from the hospital. Kent has been there the whole time. I have no idea how I would have made it through all of this without my family.

3) I'm not alone. Aside from my family, I received no less than 100 cards and several hundred emails wishing me the best during a difficult time.

The hard part now is to try to find myself again. My body is different, and it feels different. I still tire easily and there's only so much I can do in a day. Yes, it's VERY frustrating. But, I'm trying, and part of that is going to the gym. I'm trying for no less than three times a week, and hopefully more. It's hard to do because I see all around me these young guys who run for almost an hour hardly breaking a sweat. And here I am on my treadmill, walking fast with a slight incline for no more than 30 minutes with a maximum heart rate that can go no higher than 125. That's all. And after that's done, I'm pretty much out of energy for the rest of the day. I'm told that recovery takes a full year, so I guess by next summer I'll know what my permanent condition will be.

Kent leaves for South Africa again this coming Sunday. He will be gone for two and a half weeks. The last time he was in South Africa, he ended up coming home early so I could have my operation. This time, I'm a bit apprehensive at being home completely alone for that long, but this will be a test. I need to know I can do this.

So, life goes on and I'm happy to put 2009 behind us. It's been the worst year of my life, but that means 2010 will surely be better! And who knows, talk of marriage for us is in the works.

Finally, I want to offer congratulations to gay couples in New Hampshire. As of today, in their state, they are equal to straight couples in their state. As of today, gay couples in New Hampshire have access to marriage. Congrats guys and gals!

I'm not saying the concert did not have flaws. There were some, particularly in the Tchaikovsky Fifth Symphony. The program...

• Bedřich Smetana - "Vltrave" ("The Moldau") from Má vlast ("My Fatherland")
• Jean Sibelius - Violin Concerto in D minor, Op. 47
• Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky - Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64

Bedřich Smetana - "Vltrave" ("The Moldau") from Má vlast ("My Fatherland")
This work has always been one of my favorites. The technical problem with this work is that it is more often than not, taken for granted. And, it's performed as such. People think it is a beautiful peace, but there is much darkness and turbulence in this work. And most orchestras gloss over this like it means nothing. Last night, I could hear all of this darkness in stunning clarity with these dark passages rippling through the orchestra without hiding their face to us. This is thanks in no small part to the conductor (I'll get to him in a minute) who paid particular attention to these important elements. And when the light of the sun triumphed over this darkness, it was simply breathtaking. Everything is a comparison to the other and when the sun came out, the excitement that this orchestra gave with this conductor at the helm sent shivers up my spine. The work has a lot of nationalism in it, or pride of country. And I found myself feeling that.

Jean Sibelius - Violin Concerto in D minor, Op. 47
This was an odd experience for me. Right after the Smetana, room was made for Leonid Sigal, the orchestras concertmaster, to perform the Sibelius Violin Concerto. But then they brought out a stool where he would play. They then secured the stool with weights on the feet of the stool. I was thinking, "How strange. He isn't seriously going to sit down and play this work." We all got quiet, and when he came out, he was holding his violin and bow in one hand, and limping out with a cane in the other hand. The stool it seems was to give him something to lean on. There was an injury to his leg and after he secured the cane to the back of the stool, he took his bow. You could see on his face that he was clearly in pain. I thought to myself, "This isn't a good sign. He shouldn't be up there."

Let me make one analogy of the Sibelius Violin Concerto, and something that Beverly Sills said once about "mad scenes" in opera. She was asked about mad scenes. She mentioned scenes in early opera that had some mad scenes, mad scenes in verismo opera where the lead character will go mad, and then she said, "... and then, there's Lucia", referring Lucia di Lammermoor, by Gaetano Donizetti. She put Lucia in it's own category because as she put it, Lucia didn't go mad, she was mad, and had this profound condition from start to end.

I mention this because this is exactly how I feel about the Sibelius Violin Concerto. In the violin literature, there are many violin concertos from the Classical era (1750 to 1820)* that offer their fair share of difficult passages. And then there are the concertos from the Romantic era (1820 to 1920)* that concentrate more on the virtuosity of the violinist. And then, there's the Sibelius, this concerto that towers over the others. It's not the virtuosity of the piece, it's simply to be avoided. In opera, you make a choice. The singer can be extremely virtuostic in terms of sheer notes in a given passage (for example coloratura, which emphasizes lightness, dexterity, and the higher range), or, darker heavier roles, such as Puccini, Verdi, or Strauss. In these works, the sacrifice of the fast moving passages for the singer, are gone. The reason, weight. The weight of the work, both emotionally and on the voice itself, sacrifices dexterity. So too is it with the Sibelius... kind of. The problem is, Sibelius doesn't sacrafice either. It's all there, passages that are just beyond human endurance, and emotional weight in the form of anguished dark moods. You will find hints of sunshine in this work, but it never wins.

In other words, it takes a toll on the violinist both technically and emotionally. Jascha Heifetz approached this work with the technical skill of a surgeon. Technically placed perfectly, yet leaving me unmoved. So last night, I was wondering how Hartford's Leonid Sigal was going to perform this work with his injury. It wasn't long into the work that I realized that he was using the pain to his advantage. The virtuosity was there, and the suffering on his face, from either the music or the pain, was genuine, and they worked with each other. It was an amazing experience to see. He didn't muddle his way through the work, he conquered it. And it was followed by a thunderous standing ovation. This was "our Lenny" after all, and I'm proud that he is with us in Hartford.

Pyotr Ilyish Tchaikovsky - Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64
This work is close to my heart. When I was a young lad way back in 1973, I had the wonderful opportunity to tour Europe after I was accepted into America's Youth In Concert. This symphony was one of the works we performed. It was the last work we performed in New York City together, before I said goodbye to so many wonderful friends that I made on the tour. So for years, I went without listening to this work. But now, I'm ok with it. It was performed well, with a few exceptions. I noticed this in the third movement mostly with the very fast spiccato in the strings. They weren't quite together. They had the work under their fingers, so I believe this was a fault of the conductor through these passages. And it was only a couple of passages that I noticed this.

The second movement with the towering horn solo was magnificent. In fact, through this symphony, I must say that what really came through was the the great wind and brass sections of this orchestra. Honestly, they sounded like the renowned brass section from the Chicago Symphony. I put this squarely on the shoulders of the guest conductor last night. Far too often do conductors with string backgrounds (the guest conductor is a violinist) diminish the brass players as though they are second class to strings. You do this at your peril in music. It's a strict partnership and yet, you'd be surprised at how many conductors out there just don't get that. Concerning the second movement, the only criticism I have is that it was a bit too dry, or metronomic, for me. There are times in this movement that you break tempo and let the moment play out. I felt that a few opportunities were missed by "moving on" too quickly, when we should have stayed and savored the moment a bit more.

All in all, I was satisfied with this performance. It wasn't perfect. There were some flaws, but I felt the conductor added much welcomed interest in exposing inner passages here and there that are often just glossed over in recordings. He's on the right path. Those aren't just notes. They are COLOR!

About the conductor, Andrew Grams
The Hartford Symphony is searching for a new conductor. As such, different concerts feature different conductors. So far, Mr. Grams is my first choice. He brings to the podium a youthful energy, respect and appreciation for all sections of the orchestra as equals in a partnership, and his technique is precise and well executed.

I was able to attend his pre-concert talk at 7:00. Most conductors want to talk about the music that will be performed, and how it effects them. Not Mr. Grams. He was more interested about us, the audience, the community, and where we would like to see the Hartford Symphony go in this time of it's life. He made it clear that if he was selected, he would be much more interested on our feedback and what we wanted from the symphony. With that, he said, without that you will never be truly part of the life of this symphony. Brutally honest, and, he's right!

As for the music, he talked very briefly about it but then said (and I'm paraphrasing), "These are well known works. I have my feelings about them, but that's not important, and I'm sure most of you have lived with them through your lives. Each of us must listen to them and hear them in our own ways. And hopefully, I can bring something new to this experience for you." He then opened it up for questions from us. This never happened before. One question that caught my attention was this, "By doing works that are so well known to all of us, aren't you playing it safe by choosing those?" He answered that he didn't get to pick the program with the exception of the Smetana. The program was planned by the Board of Directors with the Sibelius and the Tchaikovsky. He pointed out that guest conductors rarely get to pick the compositions performed for any given orchestra. But they asked him to pick a piece that "wasn't too long." Perhaps this was a test from them to see what he would marry these two works with. He finally also mentioned regarding the question of "playing it safe", that by performing well known works, he confronts people who know these works, and that can be a double edged sword. Very true.

I'm glad I made this effort to drive to Hartford through a snow storm. I got there a bit cold and weary as it was snowing out, bought a glass of wine, took it to my seat with me (yes, they let us do that), and listened to Smetana's The Moldau in a live performance, as I sipped a nice Merlot.

* Note that these date ranges are approximate. You will find that among different sources, they will vary somewhat.

First and foremost, Kent. He is the most amazing human being I know. He was with me through all the bad stuff and continues to be an anchor for me since my operation in June. It hasn't been easy for us, but we've always had each other.

Mom and Dad. They came out last June to help us through everything. At the time I didn't want them to come, but I didn't realize what I was up against. I don't know what we would have done without them.

Austin, my friend who lives in Boston. When I had my angiogram, Kent was in South Africa for a month. Austin came down from Boston to take me to the hospital for the procedure. We have a very solid friendship, but I want him to know that I don't take his generosity for granted. It's good to have a friend you can count on.

Various people at work. I've received a lot of support from people at work. It's honestly been a surprise to me because I didn't think many people at work cared, but the outpouring of support from my coworkers, and especially my boss and management in general, has been overwhelming.

Dawn and Catherine, the RN's at my cardiac rehabilitation program. I thank them for being relentless in pushing me to get stronger. Each session is more difficult than the last and it's been grueling. But, it's paid off. I have more stamina now and probably am in better shape than before the operation.

All the people who sent me cards and well wishes during my recovery. There were hundreds of them - cards and emails. I kept them all to remind me that there are so many people who care.

Tomorrow, we will go to spend our Thanksgiving at Mystic, Connecticut. We stay at the Inn at Mystic, and will have dinner at the Flood Tide Restaurant. They make a great dinner, just like home cooking, and a lot less work. We always have a good time there. We'll come home on Friday and spend a quiet weekend together.

I have a lot to be thankful for.