GROOVY

Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feeling groovy
Ba da da da da da da, feeling groovy

59th Street Bridge Song by Paul Simon

LET'S FIND THE GROOVE. Tap a foot to the beat. I'm playing around here with a mix of ideas: a musical groove and finding a state of pleasing consistency, a flow, sort of like a needle of a turntable on a vinyl disk, or ink rubbed into an etched incision of a metal plate.

Maybe you've been in the groove before. Here's one way to look at it: Maybe you had a spell where you weren't feeling great, disjointed, bewildered; but now you're getting "back in the groove."

Maybe you've been in a rut before, that ditch of a lifeless routine. I heard someone say that a rut is a "grave with both ends knocked out."

How do you know if you're in a rut or in the groove? If you're in the groove, you're feeling it. At a minimum you're tapping your foot to it (even metaphorically). Because apparently it's part physiological:

The urge to move in response to music, combined with the positive affect associated with the coupling of sensory and motor processes while engaging with music (referred to as sensorimotor coupling) in a seemingly effortless way, is commonly described as the feeling of being in the groove.

In a rut there is no sound, or if there is, it's a hum, a droning, without rhythm or melody and certainly no harmony.

I love jazz. Often people say they don't. I think it's because they can't find the groove. People like a good four-count rhythm with a hefty downbeat: ONE, two, three four. ONE, two, three, four. And repeat.

One of my favorite jazz tunes is Dave Brubeck's "Take Five". It makes a good example of how irritating jazz can feel. It has five beats to a measure. Finding the groove is tricky but so fun when you do. My advice is to pay attention to the rhythm section: the bass, the drums and piano. They will almost always give you the groove. But even if you miss it, it's way more fun than a rut.

As I move closer to retirement, I fear the rut; not the rhythm, but the rut. There's a difference. Here's an example: My Amazing-Missus and I have discovered a little diner where we live. On Monday nights they have half-price burgers. We say to heck with the diet and cardiologist's warnings. She has the old-fashioned w/o cheese and fried okra, I have the ultimate patty melt. So, for now, our Monday rhythm is burgers out, get home in time to watch "The Voice", then she goes off to another room to sew or watch to see if they're going to LOVE IT or LIST IT, I watch what's left of the Monday Night Football game to see which team will WIN IT and which will LOSE IT.

At some point, if at our little diner, we're just stuffing greasy beef and bread down our gullets without even tasting it or enjoying the danger, we've fallen into a rut. If we miss an opportunity to do something else because of the routine, we're in a rut.

I played drums in some fine bands. That included marching in a bunch of parades including one presidential inaugural parade (the one for the infamous Tricky Dick Nixon). During a parade, the drummers never rest. In between songs they play a cadence. It provides the groove allowing the members of the band to march in unison and unity. I can still play the cadences from those days. Those memories are still in my old muscles. We played those over and over and over again. We were in a rut? NOPE. We were in the groove. Heck, we were the groove.

It it's quiet where you are right now, pay attention to the beating of your heart. Concentrate on your breathing; in and out. That is your groove, your cadence. Groovy! Right?

When I was much younger I heard a guy, a guy I had a lot of respect for, say that "maturity is learning to play the hand you've been dealt." That sounded so right to me when he said it, and I accepted it for fact. Now, it sounds like selling-out, or at least, settling; to me.

The thing about being in the groove is that it moves us forward. It's consistent but dynamic. Along with the groove there is a melody and harmonies. AND, there is the chance to ad-lib. You can riff. You can change keys or tempos, but the groove is always there.

I was visiting about these ideas with my oldest son/drummer/art professor. "It's like Intaglio printing," he said.

In Intaglio printing, ink is rubbed into grooves created by etching a design in a plate made of copper, zinc or other materials. Under pressure the paper is embossed into the grooves picking up the ink and producing a range of printed effects.

This picture of grooves being cut and inked; impressions created under pressure to produce a final product which can be replicated over and over, is rich in application to living in the groove.

There is a verse to the Paul Simon song "The Boxer" which didn't make the radio version of the song. It goes like this:

Now the years are rolling by me
They are rockin' evenly
I am older than I once was
And younger than I'll be; that's not unusual
Nor is it strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same

As I'm writing this I'm listening to "Portrait In Jazz" by the Bill Evans Trio. If this blog post doesn't make any sense, play the 6th cut called "Peri's Scope" and see if you don't find yourself in the groove and just a little bit happier.

Here's to a rut-less and groovy day.