Surfacing for a gulp of air

It's spring break. I've had zero time to write anything that isn't related to something having to do with assignments due for my classes. However, I have managed to listen to music. I stumbled on this great site: Woodsongs Old Time Radio Hour. I have discovered some really great artists. Not only can you get the full broadcast as a podcast, they archive videos of the show on the web site.

I have manged to keep somewhat informed about the presidential primaries, but I have been so focused on my studies that I just have not had the time nor the energy to remain as absorbed in it as I was over the semester break. Not to mention that we are now down to two democratic candidates, neither of whom are thinking in terms of choosing the candidate who will be most able to defeat John McCain. If the Democratic party would keep that as its focus, then maybe we'd have a chance of keeping McCain out of office, which is what this election pretty much boils down to. As charismatic as Obama is and the one I think who can beat McCain, I don't have much hope that under all the fanfare, he's much different than any other president we've had over the past 40 years.

In the mean time, I am attending the annual conference Mid-Atlantic Region of the American Music Therapy Association (AMTA) in Cherry Hill, NJ (just across the river from Philadelphia) for which I won a scholarship -- my first-ever scholarship. It wasn't a huge one, but it's paying for the conference fee and this year's membership fee for the AMTA.

It's still winter here in Western New York. I did see evidence of crocus or daffodils struggling to break through the frozen ground, so that's a hopeful sign.

I am becoming increasingly disturbed by the growing number of shootings in our colleges and universities and other public places. Why aren't people asking why this is happening? It isn't a matter of gun control. It's a matter of the state of the collective psyche of this country.

The stress and uncertainty of this current time period is much more severe than anything I remember feeling when I was growing up with in the '60s. It makes my connection to music even more important. Many times it is the only place I feel whole. When I listen to the news or am out in the world, I begin to feel fragmented.

I am glad the sun is shining today.