I been rich an’ I been broke.  Truth be known, I’d rather be rich.  The expression actually goes, “I been rich an’ I been poor…” but I’ve never been poor.  I’ve been broke, but never poor.

The life of an artist is a life of taking chances.  Rarely does one have a regular job.  Making a fixed salary is something that I’m totally unaccustomed to.  I’ve really never experienced it.  I’ve lived a financial roller coaster for a half a century now and learned to negotiate its pitfalls.

Sometimes while developing a musical, creating an album, scoring a movie, etc. one can go for months, years even, and money just does not come in.  It takes about three years to write a musical and get it to the point of production if you’re lucky.  I’ve lived those three years many times and sometimes the show’s a hit and all too often it flops.  When it hits, you can ride on that for a time while you develop the next one, but if it flops…

So I’ve learned to live both ways – rich and broke.  It’s the roller coaster ride of an artist.  Being rich, of course, has its pitfalls too.  In fact, I learned in life that it’s often scarier than being broke.  It comes with a large down side.  It’s full of weird obligations and heady temptations which are often hard to manage.

In a way I’m fortunate to have lived both.  In a strange way the roller coaster ride provides a kind of obtuse balance that if you can step back from, if you can trust that God provides for His children and if you can live within your means, you can live happily ever after.

About 15 years ago when I first met the Missus I was experiencing the crest of the ride.  I don’t remember why, but life was easy and the money was rollin’ in.  At the time she was an opera singer and this lady’s understanding of classical music totally intrigued me.

I grew up a rock n’ roller, a folk musician, a pop artist and classical music was always a distant intrigue.  I was a fan of Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky, but really knew little about the rest of it all.  I thought Julia would get me into opera, but that never really happened because she was on her way out of it looking for something different herself.

One day while crossing 57^th Street in Manhattan we decided to stop in at Carnegie Hall and check out the vibes.  We were glancing through the stacks of promotional materials in the lobby and Julia started pointing out to me coming attractions that she would love to attend – great orchestras and especially great symphonies that she would love to turn me on to.

Like I said, at the time my financial position in life was solid and so we excitedly picked out several series of orchestra performances to attend over the next year and were fortunate, probably because we bought so much, to secure great season seats about 2/3rds back in the center on the main floor – fabulous seats to hear an orchestra.

That year we probably attended 13-15 concerts at Carnegie Hall hearing great orchestras from all over the world play every kind of music imaginable.  For me, it was a musical education that left me spellbound.  The music blew my mind in a way that no other music ever had.

I learned so much about orchestration just watching and listening.  We both would sit and weep at the magic of the greatness of that music and those orchestras in that wondrous hall.

One orchestra began to stand out to me.  The Philadelphia – under the baton of Wolfgang Sawallisch.  They quickly became my favorite.  Why?  It wasn’t because of the music that they played, but because of the way they played anything they tackled.

Truth is, though I had great admiration for the incredible skills of the classical musician, I often had my doubts about many of their connections to the more rhythmic aspects of the music.  Often, though the orchestras performed masterfully, I found their sense of rhythm somewhat lacking.  Coming from the complex anticipatory rhythms of the pop, jazz and rock world, I often found classical music somewhat mushy.

But the Philadelphia was a different story.  They cooked!  When they came to Carnegie, they rocked the house.

For the next three years we bought their season tickets and attended every concert the Philadelphia Orchestra played at Carnegie.  It was my foray into classical music and what an adventure it was.  Sitting in those great seats in that great listening space I was given an incalculable education in music that I shall never forget and one that I have used as a reference point in my music thousands of times over.

When we study art, we study the masters.  We look to the best to see how it’s done.  I had this invaluable opportunity, it came along at just the right time and I was able to take advantage of it and learn greatly from it.  I saw and heard the best play the best of music and soaked it all up from every pore in my body.

I miss the experience terribly.  The roller coaster kept moving and for a while there a roof over our heads and food on the table became the necessities of life.  We lost our season tickets, but not the memory of those incredible nights of music and wonder.  They were timeless adventures that were imprinted indelibly on my brain’s hard drive and in my soul’s center.

I’m going back tonight – to sit once again in that great hall and hear music.  I can’t wait for the hours to pass.  I know I’ll come home with a new vision, a new energy.  It’s not the Philadelphia, but that doesn’t matter.

It’s one of the great things about living in New York.  The wonders of the universe exist just a few blocks up the street.