National Punctuation Day

September 24th is National Punctuation Day. This day celebrates the the use of proper grammar. Here's the website http://www.nationalpunctuationday.com/ . They have a punctuation Haiku contest, which I have entered in with relish.

This a Haiku I wrote to honour diversity of punctuation, as it is used most commonly by those of a younger generation.

They’re versatile ;)

Defining :) thoughts, speech and age,

Gracing “texts”—and prose :-)

Bliss

Bliss: n. perfect happiness

At Swing Camp, bliss is falling to sleep with a song you’ve only heard once marching its inexorable way through your brain. Bliss is smiling for no reason, or hugging a complete stranger whom you just met three days ago. Bliss is eating dinner with the leading jazz musicians in Canada and knowing that they think of you as a friend. Bliss is seeing “old friends” that you met at Swing Camp a year ago.

Swing Camp is held at an Anglican retreat center in Sorrento, between Chase and Salmon Arm, about six hours east of Vancouver. People from Alberta, Washington, B.C. and Yukon flock each year to Swing Camp to take part in a bliss filled week of intellectual growth and music—mostly jazz. Its called “Swing Camp”, but its really all kinds of jazz and jazz-like music from the 20’s through the 60’s—and that’s too long a title.

From the horns playing scales at 7:30 AM through the jams ‘till 4:00 in the morning, each day is filled with music. The days started with a rushed breakfast and then a class in the instrument of your choice. My father and I, naturally, chose the Swing Fiddle class, taught by Paul Anastasio. However, there were a multitude of vocal classes, a plethora of guitar classes, and piano, bass, and horn classes too. From the first class, there was a non-stop selection of workshops, classes and jams from which to partake. Most people, actually the sane or amazingly talented (they didn’t need to practice), would swim in Shushwap Lake, nap in the 3:00-4:00 break or rest in any other spare moment. I however, practiced at lunch, the afternoon break and, once, at breakfast. Don’t get me wrong, this was willing, blissful and self-imposed practicing. Bliss.

From 4:00 until dinner there is a class offered called “Band Lab”. Band Lab is the quintessential Swing Camp experience. For me, this class was one of the highlights of Swing Camp. Small, on-the-spot bands quickly rehearse a song and then return to perform it for their peers. It’s a great, opportunity to play in a fully formed band or to play your first solo before an audience of supportive musicians who all know what you’re up against. The audience will cheer no matter what. Each day two “Band Lab tunes” are announced in the morning, with charts available in the Luthier Lounge. This is why, instead of taking breaks during the day, I would practice and study the “Band Lab” songs so that when I performed at Band Lab, it would be the fifth or sixth time I had played a song, not the first.

At the beginning of band lab, each song is performed by the teachers – an impromptu, usually spectacular, often funny performance. In each student’s mind a choice is made, which song do I like the feel of, the lyrics, the melody? Which do I want to play? Of course, for me, an unfamiliar key and chords that are impossible (unless you’re my father) over which to solo, trump an interesting melody and rhythm. Unfortunately the more interesting a Jazz song is, the harder it is to play successfully.

About 80 people attend Band Lab each day. We brave souls sit in sections, waiting to be chosen, organized by our role in a band (lead, rhythm, vocal, percussion, etc.). The violins sit with the other “lead” instruments. Rene Worst, bassist extraordinaire, and the teacher who runs “Band Lab”, then goes section by section selecting instruments to play in each song of the day. Usually the bands are made up of two singers, a couple of leads and rhythm players, one bass and, if lucky, a pianist and percussionist. Once a band is formed they go off and arrange the song (intros, outros, tempo, feel, improvised solos, vocal harmonies…). Usually each band has a teacher to help, prompt creativity and keep everyone on task. At five’ o’clock the bands come back together and perform their arrangement for everyone else.

Some Band Lab performances were beautiful, some were brilliant, and others were funny or cheesy. Some were struggling first attempts to solo. However, in all cases, the performers smiled and had a great time, no matter their skill level—and in all cases performers received huge, enthusiastic appreciation for their effort. I loved standing up there with my band, slightly nervous about my impending improvisation, but knowing that it would not matter if I failed completely. Watching the teachers smile as other bands performed was another highlight. For some, just getting up and quietly chunking in the background is a personal breakthrough. Those people are applauded as much, if not more so, than the brilliant, seasoned musicians. This support for everyone is typical of Swing Camp, and one of the reasons I love it so much.

Tuesday night is the teacher’s concert. Every minute of that evening is filled with blissful music that made the 5-hour concert seem to last only minutes. This really is an amazing experience—for many people the highlight of the week—and alone worth the price of admission. Picture a 5-hour concert by a group of the top jazz musicians in the world, in a small, intimate, outdoor venue… and then getting the next morning for breakfast with those very same musicians.

Thursday night is the student concert. Students put together bands and any student can ask any teacher to back them up. There were student singers backed up by Bill Coon, Rene Worst, and Michael Creber! The M.C.s are fantastic too, with witty hilarious, and sometimes crude, humour. In fact, the idea about Swing Camp “Bliss” was a theme presented at the Student Concert by Terry Hoffman while MC’ing.

Last year at Swing Camp there were only me and two others younger than 20. And last year, I was the youngest participant in the camp. This year, however, there were nine of us younger folks. I was sitting with two new friends on Tuesday night and I decided we would enter in the student concert Thursday evening. Our band would be an all-young person ensemble. My father dubbed us “Swing Camp the Next Generation”. We (that’s the royal we) immediately went out to enlist some more “young-uns”. Leevon (11!) became our bass player, Kayla (18) our singer, Maddie (16) played the French Horn, Alexa (~19) the piano and Chris (~19) was on drums ; I was the fiddle player. We chose the great standard “Fly Me to the Moon”—a song secretly about the America’s race to space.

Our Wednesday practices were hectic. The band was in the key of “C” and Kayla was singing in “G”. The vocal harmonies on the B-part were painful, and wait, where was our ending? I enlisted Reuben (a fantastic teacher) as our coach and we were finally able to play through the entire song. We practiced Wednesday evening, twice on Thursday day and performed that evening. We also had an amazing master class with master musician and teacher John Knowles.

On Thursday evening we performed ninth in the show and wowed the audience with our skills. NOT. But we didn’t train-wreck. And we had a fabulous time. I decided I like performing!

Special thanks to John Knowles and Reuben Gurr, who helped us think and act like a band, not a confused group of musicians who happened to be playing the same song together.

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On the last day of Swing Camp it is impossible to leave without being hugged within an inch of your life in the most wonderful way. Everyone exacts promises to return, vows are made to practice, PRACTICE, PRACTICE! and to write. This is a conversation I eavesdropped on delightedly:

“How are you feeling about entering the real world again?”

“Swing Camp is the real world, everything else out there is a fabrication of our imagination, and as such, only to be tolerated until we can return here next year.”

344 days and counting.

Thanks to Guy Smith, Swing Camp's wonderful photographer, for these photos.