Best-laid Schemes and Strange Machines

Many of you may be familiar with one of Robbie Burns best known poems, “To a Mouse, on Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough.” This is the poem with the oft-quoted lines “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men/ Gang aft agley.”

I find this poem, especially the last two stanzas (see below), particularly apropos to my current underemployed condition.  I suspect it also speaks for many other over-educated musicians, and in fact for many students just out of grad school whatever their field of study.

So many of us spent years preparing for our chosen path in life, only to find the world changing around us.  It may seem like the world has no place left in it for us, but as I mentioned in my first post, I plan to adapt.  Burns has a point about the advantages the mouse has in our shared situation. It would not hurt to borrow some of the mouse’s advantages-  the future which seemed so certain may now be a complete a complete unknown, but it will not help to fear it.  The unknown can hold good just as easily as bad- in my case, it now appears that it holds a lot of computer science, which for me is a very good thing indeed.

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,A mouse driving a piece of heavy machinery made for grabbing cheese. Another mouse watches.
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

Still thou are blest, compared wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!

 

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Apologies to everyone who is subscribed to this blog!  I recently moved my site to a different server, and somehow managed to spam everyone on my subscription list with a repeat of the first post (picture non-functional).

So far as I can tell, the issue should be fixed now.  Please let me know if you see anything else weird, and very sorry for annoying you all!  Just as a reminder, if you need or want to, you can always unsubscribe (there’s a link in any email you get from the blog).  I hope you don’t have to, of course 🙂

pile of spam with puzzled cat

Aesop Animals

At least some of you have probably noticed that I haven’t posted anything new for a very, very long time.  The reason is that I got a job . . . but not a “good job.”  As you may recall, I define a “good job” as fulfilling three criteria: provides the basics of survival, allows the possibility of retirement at some point, and relates to music. [1]  Well . . . one out three isn’t bad?  Or maybe it is; I now have an adjunct teaching position.  The pay would not keep Dumbo in peanuts[2], there are no benefits, and it eats my entire life.  But it’s a college teaching job, in MUSIC!  Hooray. . . ish.

My dilemma is one of fables.  Specifically, is the operative fable here “a bird in the hand . . .” or “monkey with its hand in a jar”?  Should I cling tightly to my actual teaching job (attractive, since I absolutely LOVE teaching), hoping to use it to somehow gain a better (possibly even survivable) position eventually?  Or do I accept that it is preventing me from doing, well, anything, let go, and step into the great unknown?

I’m getting the impression that I’m the monkey in this fable.

Professor looks to the future with hand stuck in jar labeled "Adjunct teaching"


[2] assuming Dumbo eats only peanuts (about 2000 calories per pound), eats about 30,000 calories a day (African elephants eat about 70,000, Dumbo looks maybe a quarter that size, but flying animals tend to eat more), and I got wholesale prices on peanuts (about $1.30 per pound)  this is literally true.

The Issue of “Background Music”

A particular trial for many over-educated musicians is the ubiquity of background music.  Studying music for ridiculous lengths of time during their formative years can make some musicians so focused on music that they are incapable of ignoring it; for us, there no longer is any such thing as background music.  Any music we hear immediately become our primary focus.  This can make conversations in restaurants difficult. . . and maybe I shouldn’t even talk about elevators.

Many over-educated musicians also have music playing in their heads, pretty much constantly. This can be useful; I recently went on a two-day backpacking trip during which I listened to several bands from a recent Celtic music festival, a selections of Lutheran hymns, and several of the works of Josquin de Prez, all without having to carry an mp3 player.  It can also give one a vacant (or totally nuts) expression that causes social problems, and, as you might imagine, combining the involuntary focus on music with the mental mp3 player can cause even more social problems.

Musician or Crazy Person?

 

Musician or crazy person . . .  who can tell?

Doomed Dinos

I recently read an article comparing trying to become a professor in today’s economy to trying to become a dinosaur when you can see the asteroid coming.*  I found the comparison disturbingly apropos.  As anyone who has tried knows, seeking a professorship in these days of reduced education funding and massive, impersonal online classes ranges from “long shot” to “tilting at windmills.”  If your doctorate is in music, you can slant that toward the windmills.  And yet, like Don Quixote, we keep trying.  Yes, we fight a system that doesn’t even notice our efforts in hopes of a job that probably doesn’t exist, but the key word here is “hope.” Someday, the windmill might really be a giant, and if, by some miracle, we vanquish it, we would find ourselves using our education to do valuable, satisfying, meaningful work, and that would be worth any amount of bruises we get from trying.

Two dinosaurs, one optimistic, one not, with approaching asteroid

 

*Wheeler, David R. CNN Opinion, “Will online classes make professors extinct?” Last modified November 25, 2013. Accessed January 17, 2014. http://www.cnn.com/2013/11/25/opinion/wheeler-tenured-professors/.

The Stigma of Knowledge

A curious thing about being over-educated, or at least over-educated in the liberal arts: it actually hurts your chances of getting a job.  I don’t just mean you may not get a job at your level or in your field; I mean your degree can make it almost impossible to get any job.  Even fast food jobs.  Even jobs normally filled by high school dropouts with criminal records.

At this point, you are probably thinking that, since this is a humorous blog, I am using exaggeration for comedic effect. . . and I like to think it would be still be funny if I were.  But guess what the really funny thing is: I don’t have to.  It actually is close to impossible for someone with a doctorate to get a lower level job.  Apparently, if we can’t find work in our fields we are supposed to sleep in cardboard boxes until we do, or until the student loan people repossess our boxes.

Case in point: a 16 year old without a high school education can get work in food service without great difficulty; I’ve seen it happen frequently.  I have a doctorate, excellent references, and a solid work history, and I can’t get so much as an interview at Starbucks.

This seemed odd enough that I conducted an experiment:

Method

I found a company in my area that was hiring to fill two identical, entry-level positions at separate branches. I had exactly the work experience and other qualifications were asking for (they weren’t asking for much).  I applied for both positions.  Job #1 received a resume listing all my relevant work experience and all my degrees.  Job #2 received a resume that only listed my lower level work and left off all my advanced degrees.

Results

Job #1 never responded.  They didn’t even send me a “sorry- we hired someone else” email.  I had to call them just to find out if they even received my resume, and call again to find out whether they had filled the position.  Job #2 asked me to interview less than three days after I applied.  After I interviewed, they recommended me for a manager position.  (Update- they later found out that I had a doctorate and I never heard from them again).

Discussion

Apparently, being educated makes one a sort of employment leper.  We wander the world hopelessly, with “Ph.D” branded on our resumes that all may know our shame and avoid contamination.

 

Maybe I should start using heavily redacted resumes.

Cartoon about getting a job with a Ph.D

Employer preferences in 2013

The Perilous Pipes: Part II

Volume can be a problem when playing with bagpipes.  Bagpipes are really, really loud, and harps, especially folk harps, are really not loud at all.  At my college, they made the bagpiper play his recital outside due to liability concerns.  In fact, there has been some argument that bagpipes should actually be classed as offensive weapons, and I once read a story about a man who was challenged to a duel and chose bagpipes at 10 paces.  There are different ways to deal with the volume issue; you can amplify the harp, or somehow muffle the bagpipe, or you can use the method a piper I once played with did:

At an outdoor wedding in a gorgeous mountain valley, the bride asked me and the piper, “Angus,” if we could play Amazing Grace together.  We both knew it, of course, but balance was difficult.  I tried playing as loudly as I could, and Angus played as softly as he could, but you couldn’t hear the harp at all.  (In fact, after Angus tried playing next to me, I couldn’t hear much of anything for a bit.)  So Angus tried standing several yards behind me, but the harp was still inaudible to the audience.  After that, Angus told the bride he had an idea.  He took off hiking across the valley and after a while I saw him waving at us from partway up the mountainside, about a quarter of a mile away.  When he saw me looking at him, he started playing, and I joined in.  It balanced perfectly, and it was a good volume for the audience, so he played the whole wedding from there.

swordsman threatens piper, piper blasts swordsman, victorious piper

The Perilous Pipes: Part I

I play a lever harp- also called a folk or Celtic harp.  Historically, Celtic harps were strung with wire or gut.  I’ve strung mine with nylon instead of sheep innards.  I get enough sheep innards just sitting near the haggis at Robbie Burns Night 🙂

People tend to associate bagpipes with Celtic music as strongly as they do the Celtic harp.  Clients planning Celtic themed events are prone to hiring both a harpist and piper, and may even want them to play together- often without advance notice of any kind.  Given the tuning and volume differences, this can be a problem.

Sheep looking at harp with broken string and bagpiper: This could be bad on SO many levels

Gigging Part II: Harps

Gigging presents several challenges in addition to beer (see July 28th’s post).  One of these is the unwieldiness of many instruments and gear.  This can be extreme, and is why roadies exist . . . if we could afford them. As many of my readers have probably gathered, I play the harp: probably the pinnacle of musical unwieldiness.   Today, I will discuss two of the main harp-gigging challenges: doors and llamas (yes, llamas).

First, doors.  Doors and harps don’t tend to get along with each other very well.  The harp I use for most gigs is a folk (lever) harp about 4 feet tall.  Compared to a concert harp, this is nothing, but mostly I’m not comparing it to a concert harp.  Most often, I’m comparing it to the flute, or the clarinet, or any of the other instruments I could have chosen that easily fit through doorways.  There is an effective procedure for getting a harp through a doorway: you use one hand to support the harp’s weight, your other hand to keep the harp from swinging into the jam, your third hand to hold open the door that’s trying to close on you, your fourth hand to keep from stepping on your artistically long skirt- I think you see the problem.

Some gigging venues, however, have no doors to deal with, being, in fact, out-of-doors.  This is where the llamas and other animals comes in.  Flower-filled meadows are understandably popular for weddings, and mean less doors, but animals can be an issue.  I have played a surprising number of  weddings in llama pastures, which are particularly challenging in terms of where you can step.  Also, with outdoor weddings, the guests often bring their dogs.  I am very fond of animals, and they seem to know it, which means they all want to hang out with me, next to the harp.  I played one wedding with a puppy asleep in my lap behind the sound box and a llama looking over my shoulder; I hadn’t the heart to dump the puppy, and the llama wasn’t budging.  In my experience, however, the wildlife most dangerous to a harp is small children running loose after eating enough wedding cake to power a small town.

Despite the bulkiness, there are some significant advantages to playing the harp.  It can be a major selling point, since it is a bit unusual and most people associate harps with beauty, peace, heaven etc. (“of course it sounds good- it’s a harp“).  In fact, people in general seem so taken with the idea of a harp that I sometimes wonder whether I really even need to be able to play- I sometimes get the impression I could just sit there, with a harp, and still provide the atmosphere the client wants.  I suppose that would be an easy job, but I prefer not to feel like an accessory to a piece of woodwork.

There are, of course, other issues associated with gigging with harps: bagpipes come to mind.  But that will have to wait, because this post already too long.  To those of you who actual read this far: Huzzah! You are amazingly cool!

Six armed harpist at door
The insectoid harpist-would life be easier?