Becoming part of the elite.

I have been around quite a number of years, and throughout this period, I have met people starting small companies. The person started energetically and willing to talk and discuss all aspects of his new found interest. These people were approachable and eager to get together. Their offices were small and their staff limited to two or three people. They handled their own mail and they were willing to sweep the floor. I could tell that they had sleepless nights.

Then started the expected growth and the profits trickled in. The old car with scratches here and there was replaced with a more luxurious model. Why the car first? Well, the prospective customers needed to be impressed. Wife and children were still living in the original apartment. Yes, then came the first move into a roomier house in a pricier neighborhood.

This pattern of growth and expansion continued with some of these (mostly) men. The familiar office became too small, and if I wanted to speak to this "successful" individual, I needed to report to the secretary and make an appointment.

Now, twenty-plus years later, this person seems remote, his secretary shields him from "unwanted" intruders, his voice recorder exudes an air of superiority and mail send to his home address is diverted back to the office so as not to have to "waste" time.

That's what happens to people who become "successful". By virtue of becoming part of the business elite, they become disengaged from everything beneath them. It may not become so intentionally, but it happens, and unless told, they will get lost in the clouds of money and the nouveau riche.

Spring time colors and music.

Yesterday, late in the afternoon I was called by Franklin Keel, the prospective Cello Teacher for Grandson Zeppelin, who had two weeks before indicated that he wanted his own cello and that he wanted to continue learning more about the instrument.

OK, Franklin indicated that he could meet with me the next day, and we decided to meet at the Green Sage, a downtown Asheville pleasant place with pleasant food. Around noon time would suit us all. His wife and brand new baby would join too.

I was excited, but now came the biggest "hurdle". How would I get mother Jennifer Murray, alias "Yellow" to agree, because her reputation is not one of going along readily with surprises. First I mailed a text message to Zeppelin - always the best method to reach him (and Jaap, my son), telling him that I wanted to meet him at the Green Sage, that next day, and "by all means bring your Mom!" ...... No answer.

So, I went to bed after setting my cell phone alarm for 6:30 am.

On my way to Asheville, I decided to call "Yellow" directly from the road at around ten. ...... I had to leave a message.

While driving, I noticed the delicate colors of spring time. Soft pink and white of the blossoms along the foot of the highway 74-hills with above it the early, new green barely visible on the trees. I took pictures while driving - yeah, not smart, but the moment was not to be missed. It was flat-out gorgeous.

At 11 am, I text-ed (?) Z. again: "Are you ready for pick-up? I am in Asheville."

Zeppelin: "NO! I can’t go! Call my dad, he'll explain!"

This was promising to become a most difficult visit to Asheville, and I decided to be bold, and I drove up to his mother's address and walked up the steps. A broad smiling Jennifer came out of the front door: "I just received your message. We (she, the other two children and her fiance) can't come, but why don't you take Zeppelin. I think the lessons are a good idea, and the week long camp in June is probably going to work too! See you later. Bye!" Zeppelin was a huge grump and not yet awake: "I don't want to get up. I need my sleep. Go away!"

Well, he said something like that, but after a minute or two hoisted himself off the couch, took a quick shower, and while he slipped on his sneakers he apologized, and said that the plan was actually a "pretty cool" idea.

While we drove through Asheville to our meeting place, we noticed a young man with long, dark hair carrying a huge, aluminum colored cello case trying to cross the street right in front of us. "Ah, that must be him!", and we both waved. The pedestrian smiled back. Minutes later all three of us entered the Sage restaurant. We introduced ourselves, and after ordering lunch (I recommend the place), The musical duo picked a table, while I went back to the car to fill the parking meter with quarters.

While walking down the street I called grandma Clarissa and cheerfully announced: "The essential eagles have landed! Call you later with the details."

Franklin is a cheerful musician, who graduated from the Eastman School of Music. He seemed a good man for Zeppelin, and Z. was willing to commit to a long term Cello learning schedule. We inquired into overnight music camps, and the only one available in the area and easy to connect with is The Asheville Music Camp. The details of this visit are to be conveyed later to Clarissa, and overall the visit was in my book, a great success - an unexpected success. The essential folks for this ambitious plan seem to be "IN". Zeppelin will start lessons on April 19, 2010. Jaap and Zeppelin will pick-up a loan cello from music store "Tempo" in Hendersonville, NC, including all accessories and Suzuki's book #one.

My trip back to Charlotte was also eventful. Heavy rain, thunder and reported, though unseen, tornadoes. On my way up it was all gentle feeling, rolling hills and soft colors. This time, it was thunder, slashing rain storms limiting my average road speed. I experienced many extremes, this eventful day.

In conclusion: Who knows what the musical future holds for Zeppelin and us, spectators. And by the way, on this excursion, Zeppelin was most pleasant and he made plenty of good sense.

End of story, for now!