Practice, man, practice

I have become a belated fan of Sparks ever since the closing credits of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel season finale, which I wrote about the other day. The song “How Do I Get to Carnegie Hall?” has been an occasional earworm these past few days. OMG, is it catchy.

And how do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, man, practice, on the Steinway, on the Steinway, on the Steinway. It’s the perfect accompaniment as Lenny Bruce’s impassioned exhortation echoes in the mind: “Don’t plan! Work! Just work and keep working.”

Ron and Russell Mael, aka Sparks, have kept working for more than 50 years. Their first album was released in 1971, and over the years they’ve made 23 more studio albums, a live album, a movie soundtrack and a collaborative album with Franz Ferdinand as FFS.

In other words, they just work and keep working. That’s a half-century of practice, man.

“How Do I Get to Carnegie Hall” is on their 19th studio album, Lil’ Beethoven, released in 2002, 31 years after their first effort. Talk about your “overnight success” — two decades after its creation, the song finds its perfect place over the closing credits of a story that involves a legendary performance at New York City’s most prestigious venue.

It’s an inspiring thought. How do you survive 50 years in the music business? Practice, man, practice. Work, and keep on working. And how do you know if one of your songs is any good? Wait 20 years and see.

I am a broken record spitting out the Ray Bradbury quotes: “You only fail if you stop writing.” If you believe in yourself, don’t quit. Just work and keep working, and there’s a good chance, one day, you’ll turn a corner. Robert A. Heinlein’s Rule No. 5 is, “You must keep it on the market until sold.” Well, Sparks just sold a copy of Lil’ Beethoven 20 years after they produced it, and I bet I’m not their only customer.

There’s something to be said about persistence and staying power. How many artists hit a home run in their 19th album?

Seriously now folks

I found this meme the other day. If I can believe the search engines, Mr. Bradbury said this during an interview with Writer’s Digest back in 1976.

Was he, um, serious? I think he was and he wasn’t. Bradbury was not a frivolous guy and tackled serious subjects all the time. But, you know, he had this whimsical air about him all the time.

Maybe I’ll post this meme somewhere that I can see it all the time. When the temptation rises to get all riled up — like most of the time lately — it will remind me there’s so much ridiculous stuff in this world that it pays not to take it so seriously.

Final minute of a lame thriller

“I don’t understand what just happened,” she said, brushing debris from her skirt and tossing her tousled hair in a way that made him happy to be alive just then.

“Henderson did it,” he said.

“Wait, what? He did all of it?!”

“Yep. The murder, the frameup, the theft of the Eiffel Tower, he was behind it all.”

“But his wife was the victim!”

“First one you suspect is the husband.”

“But he was in Jakarta when it all came down! How did he pull it off?”

“That’s where I came in,” said a sudden voice, attached to a menacingly dapper man holding a gun.

“OMG, Henderson! But you just died.”

“No, that was my twin brother, Oleg Henderson.”

“You mean —“ she said.

“Yes, I’m Sven. And now you die — ULK!”

The blade that protruded from Sven Henderson’s chest surprised all three of them. The second twin to die in the last 30 seconds slid to the ground to reveal the grinning face of Graham Fox.

“Graham!” he cried. “You survived the plane crash!”

“Obviously,” grinned Graham. “I’m too tough to die.”

“So the Henderson twins pulled it all off,” she said breathlessly.

“Almost,” he said.

“But they didn’t count on one thing,” Graham said. “You can’t outfox the Fox boys.”

“I guess not,” she said with a fetching smile, “I guess not.”

And they all laughed and linked arms as, somewhere, a crescendo crescendoed.