Beyond comprehension...

Words 83 · RF@80.

Photo: Robert’s notebook. The Crimson ProjecKt 2004.

Rising at 06.35, a reflective reading over coffee. This reminded me of many reflective reading-hours beginning the day in various locations around the world. This morning, for some reason, I found myself revisiting reflective periods as a younger player in France. There was magic available, in addition to the remorseless grinding of the road, in those less professional days. Management cared little for the working players’ grind: when travelling, they flew at the front end of the plane & stayed in Hotels Very Acceptable. The Double Standard was evident early on.

Associatively, I recalled comments made to ET from the Boston critic & writer Michael Bloom in 1993, criticising my reference to management only ever arriving at capital cities (I have yet to meet a manager visiting in Youngstown, Ohio, for example) and Fripp’s hard-done-by tone. Michael proffered the opinion that the proper place of management was in the office, doing deals. How little Michael knew of EG, how little he knew of the industry’s underside, despite his I am not clueless claim. And what did Michael know of the deals EG were doing, back in the home office? So much for the commentary of intelligent & relatively well informed journalists, for whom the actuality of the player’s professional life is, very likely, beyond comprehension; as it would be for any decent person. I do not claim decency, but comprehending this life I find a stretch.

Now playing, a Purcell Fantasia. This is not music that entered our world driven by a commercial imperative.

[Excerpt from RF’s Diary – November 30th. 2004]

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