MCI

0730

It's a Friday yet again. I have a hard time getting out of bed, so I go on my phone to practice speaking Japanese on Mango. I can say, "Nice weather today isn't it?"

0820

I'm looking at my Canon F1. I just got it from my friend J. I was thinking that I could take photos of my day with 35mm film. It would be cool in theory, but it takes a lot of time and elbow grease and guessing to make photos in the darkroom. I'm obsessed with the practice, but it is a slow iterative process. I want a chill weekend, so I leave the camera at home. My iPhone 14 is pretty good, anyways.

0843

I'm standing at Broad and Spruce in front of Loch Bar, waiting for the 32 bus to work. This bus is really spotty, and as a good Philadelphian, I have a healthy distrust of Septa's schedule. I check the Septa website to do a live track of the 32. I always do the same Google search entry: "Septa 32 Live." It's on its way today, and on time, too, it'll be a good day.

0846

I find myself staring out the window at people passing by on the street. I always have the same very naive thought: There are so many people here. I wonder how many I've seen day after day, but just have never recognized?

0853

I'm at work. I go to my desk. I say "Good Morning!" to C., M., S., and P. Where my desk is, I am seated perpendicular to a bunch of LPs of German operas by Richard Strauss and Richard Wagner, conducted by former Nazi supporters, like Karl Bohm and Herbert von Karajan. I always reflect on them, because it is one of those questions like, "Can we separate the artist from the person?" that we mostly pose to abusers these days. Since the classical music world is quite German, there's this long word I learned about from reading Gunter Grass's Im Krebsgang ("Crabwalk") that I always remembered from over a decade ago when I was an English major at Temple: Vergangenheitsbewältigung, which basically means a work that contends with the past. I don't listen to these conductors anymore really. My musical diet is more like Sabrina Carpenter, Otoboke Beaver, DJ Love (a fellow Filipino and Visayan like me), and this UK band called King Hannah. It's Friday morning.

1205

I take my lunch at Reading Terminal Market. I got paid today, so I'm celebrating. I do the same thing each time: I get a pork sandwich with provolone and a Coke from Dinic's. The lines at Dinic's aren't as insane as it used to be when I first started coming here on my own in 2008. Thank God that Reading Terminal has these stand-up tables outside now. I hate trying to find a seat in the dining area; I always feel so stupid and desperate, especially when my lunch break is only an hour long. Outdoors is a good idea, and I eat my sandwich in tranquility while a street performer is singing her own version of Sixpence None the Richer's "Kiss Me." I still prefer the original recording, but sometimes a copy is not as bad as the original.

I take a selfie and send it to my youngest sister. The text reads, "Do I look happier?" I changed my look a little with this mustache and slight goatee thing that I copied from Toshiro Mifune. I believe I'm entering my "Cool Asian" era, as much as someone who wears Ralph Lauren oxford shirts and khakis can. Maybe one day I'll get sleeve tattoos, but then I'll have to be cut as hell. One self-improvement at a time!

1229

"One loveboat please!" I ask. It's a smoothie with bananas and raspberries. The fruits are all seasonal here. I wish I could make smoothies at home, but I like the ritual of coming to this smoothie joint in Reading Terminal. 

1255

I don't usually walk back to work while passing through Logan Circle, but earlier this morning, I realized that summer was dwindling away. On my walk, I noticed that the quality of light was dimmer than usual. We had passed the solstice, so this would make sense. I took this photo of these shoes and the fountains. I thought maybe it wouldn't be a cliched photo of the city. I work on the photo file on my phone in Lightroom. I want it to look like a scene from Amelie, but slightly sinister like a David Lynch movie. Where are the children to whom these shoes belong to? (They're obviously outside of the shot.)

1352

I have to do this training about chemicals. I don't think I work with chemicals here, except for an alcohol spray when I clean my glasses. 

I like the partition. I rarely decorate things, so it's been fun using the thermal printer to make cheap decorations. There's two scenes from Wim Wenders's Paris, Texas and Wings of Desire; there's the world's largest paper cup; an old photo of K. and me in Belleville, Paris, at the start of a night and morning of drinking; and a print of Ellsworth Kelly's "Seine," which is usually on display at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, but I think at the time of writing it is not on display. It's on loan. To whatever museum has it, I'd like to formally declare: Return it now, please! 

I love Ellsworth Kelly's art, but it mostly reminds me of the cherished interactions I had with my friend G.'s late mother Cecile. We were at the Centre Pompidou Museum and she'd ask me if I knew this painter or that painter. I mostly said no, and I felt bad that I was generally ignorant. But I did know Ellsworth Kelly, which I was proud of. She also asked me if I watched the show "Pretty Little Liars," one of her favorites, but I can't say that I had alas.

Anyways, always read the labels when handling chemicals. Check.

1521

I wish I could write at the typewriter like this one. My fingers get messed up after a while. 

1522

I've been watching this documentary of Garry Winogrand during my lunch breaks this past week. I like his photography, but I also am really lucky that I'm not as obsessive as he is. I've been trying to wean myself off of energy drinks, but it's hard. I ordered Celsius Peach Vibe from Dollar General, only because it's twenty cents cheaper than the other ones.

I put in my timecard for the week. We have to use military time.

1647

Thirteen minutes to close. I always look at this copy of Al Blatter's Instrumentation and Orchestration. Al's my friend and he encouraged me when I became a musicologist. I learned a lot from him and he complimented my conducting when I first started out a decade ago. He said to me once, "I was impressed with what you could do."

1709

I left work 14 minutes ago and we're all waiting for the bus together. It's pretty hot out and I like how this photo has the three of us in a kind of triangle of waiting.

1722

The 33 is stupidly crowded, so I jump out in front of the Four Seasons. I figured that I'll catch the regional rail to Temple from Suburban. I feel dumb that my finger is in the shot, but it's nice to see things like that, because I'm still learning and I'm still making mistakes, which is alright. 

I wonder what it would be like to eat at Jean Georges. I remembered that Taylor Swift would eat there. I also remembered my friends used to work there. I imagined how I'd feel to work there, knowing that every day at every Jean Georges location in the world, the menu is exactly the same and the food has to be executed the same, regardless of location. It's like classical music: An orchestra must play a Beethoven symphony exactly as Beethoven envisioned it, regardless of where they are in the world. It is a little boring, right? It'd still be nice to eat there, though.

I think I see my friend's husband, D., working in Vernick. I'd like to eat here too one day. I only have like two friends who'd be interested in this kind of haute cuisine though.

1724

The only self-portrait in a mirror I'll take is when my own image is slightly obscured. You can see my Amoeba bag, which always gains attention. People ask me which location I go to. I say, "I go to the one in LA. I've never been to the others." I bought this bag on opening day when Amoeba moved from one part of Hollywood Boulevard to a more touristy part. I remembered waiting in line, getting an Amoeba hand fan, and plugging my ears from the revving sports cars.

1729

This portal from the Comcast Center to Suburban Station is magical to me. I have a hard time fathoming it.

1732

I'm catching any train going to Temple. I remember coming to Suburban Station for the first time when I was a little kid in the '90s. The platform is exactly the same as back then. Maybe the fonts changed though; they use Gill Sans now, which makes me think that Suburban is like a London Underground wannabe. 

1748

I'm at Temple and there's "Mazur" Hall. I hate that the school changed the name. It will always be Anderson Hall, much like the Trenton Line will always be the R7, Jefferson Station is Market East, the Fashion District is the Gallery, and Philadelphia Mills is the Franklin Mills Mall. I used to have an office there on the 9th floor next to Samuel R. Delany's office. I used to read his email printouts to the editor from The Paris Review for his famous Art of Fiction Writing issue. My late friend Josh Lukin still has his office door decorated as he left it in 2019. Part of me wants to see it again, but sometimes it's better to let things go. I think I'm in that stage of grief about my friend: acceptance.

1753

I always associate the Tyler School of Art with Lena Dunham's mom, Laurie Simmons. Also, there's too much light out, but I love these lights: I call them the lightsaber lights.

1754

I've been coming to Presser Hall for Friday night orchestra rehearsals for years. Here I am again, same as it ever was. 

1850

Rehearsal is at 730PM, so I mess around in a practice room. I had recorded myself doing an atonal improvisation on "Summertime" and I composed this little fragment that I'll probably use for a chamber work I'm composing for a children's storytime I'm doing. I like the motif's dissonance.

1935

Here I am playing second trumpet to Prokofiev's Lieutenant Kije. The last time I played this work was literally a decade ago, but I was playing the first part then, and I was in the California desert going to grad school. I messaged my friend B. to tell him that it's weird to play this without him in the viola section. I feel like I'm covering musical territory that I've been over a million times over, but I like playing my part just the same. I have a handful of solos and it's nice to play with my friend, K.

1943

K. replicates the sound of playing a trumpet far away with a green Crown Royale bag. Usually trumpeters use the purple one, not for any sound reasons, but that's the more widely available variety of cognac. The green bag is a nice touch. 

2033

I'm a little annoyed that these penciled markings are here in the part. I flub my solo a few times, before I figured out how to ignore the handwriting. I wish someone had erased these markings!

2214

T. and I are hungry before we go out drinking at Solar Myth. We go to Raising Canes and order chicken sandwich combos. The music isn't as loud as it usually is here. There's all this Temple memorabilia around, and it reminds me that there's a little plaque to Elon Musk at the Penn location. I wonder if it ever occurred to anyone working there to maybe take it down?

2255

The BSL stopped running for some reason. We end up changing our plans, and instead we walk to Lorraine's. I like these foggy lights. 

2320

It's not a busy night tonight and the TV is showing old episodes of the Japanese version of Iron Chef. An ad for Cheaters comes on and the folks next to us shout out how much they love the show. I am aching for a Cape May IPA and a citywide. I still feel a little hungry, so we order Lorenzo's to eat in the bar. The sauce is less sweet, thankfully. It tastes great now.

2359

A Citywide for this long day.

MCI (he/him) is a Filipino American film composer, writer, and civil servant from Port Richmond. He was the first music historian laureate of the Cité Internationale des Arts. He once made David Lynch laugh. Occasionally, he hosts a classical radio show at WKDU 91.7FM, and he is the assistant conductor of the Lower Merion Symphony.