Fact of the day: I no longer know how to write a capital Y. Every time I need to write one I pause, panic, and eventually draw a high "v" with a stick under it. It looks retarded.
This wouldn't be such an issue except I know for a fact that I used to be able to write them.
What's next?
December 10, 2010
December 8, 2010
All sorts of bassoonery
I went to a concert last night.
No, no, not one of these:
One of these:
I didn't go in with a lot of expectations. Which turned out to be good, because I would have been sorely disappointed otherwise.
The main reason I didn't enjoy this concert was how distracted I was. There were several aspects of the concert that were downright distracting to me.
For instance, the people with the curvy trumpets. What are they doing with their other hand? Do they put it in the trumpet mouth, or is that just an illusion? Also, I'll be straight with you, I don't know what an oboe looks like. But it sounds like a weird looking instrument. So when these guys came out with these giant wood things, I assumed they were oboes. I was later informed that they are, in fact, bassoons. Either way, you can bet none of the players looked as classy as this.
Before last night, if you had asked me to pick a band instrument to be proficient at, it would have been easy. The saxophone. Mostly so I could hang out in blues clubs and tell women I "play the sax". Also, because this guy is awesome:
You'd be surprised at how much of my life has been influenced by the Simpsons. But that's a story for another time.
So, while I've always wanted to play the sax, I find myself wondering if perhaps the bassoon is not my imaginary calling after all. It's bigger, more obscure, and perhaps most importantly, not as important. When the band plays, I can recognize the saxophone. I can recognize the flute and the trombone and the cymbals. But for the life of me I have no idea what a bassoon sounds like. For all I know, these guys could just be chilling in the back for the whole concert, talking about how awesome their bassoons are. (2 points if you get the alliteration on that one)
But, I digress. A man can only talk about bassoons for so long. There was one other aspect of the concert that really peeved my privates (don't ask).
What's with the clapping, guys?
It just keeps going, and going. Not even at the end of the concert, where I can understand giving a general "Right on" to the performers. Nope. After every piece, we feel the need to just clippity clap it up for like 5 minutes. I give a good 10 seconds of clapping, and then sit there awkwardly as everyone is going crazy like they just saw the greatest performance of their life.
But, such is life. Full of mysteries and disappointments. Failures and triumphs.
So it goes.
No, no, not one of these:
One of these:
I didn't go in with a lot of expectations. Which turned out to be good, because I would have been sorely disappointed otherwise.
The main reason I didn't enjoy this concert was how distracted I was. There were several aspects of the concert that were downright distracting to me.
For instance, the people with the curvy trumpets. What are they doing with their other hand? Do they put it in the trumpet mouth, or is that just an illusion? Also, I'll be straight with you, I don't know what an oboe looks like. But it sounds like a weird looking instrument. So when these guys came out with these giant wood things, I assumed they were oboes. I was later informed that they are, in fact, bassoons. Either way, you can bet none of the players looked as classy as this.
Before last night, if you had asked me to pick a band instrument to be proficient at, it would have been easy. The saxophone. Mostly so I could hang out in blues clubs and tell women I "play the sax". Also, because this guy is awesome:
You'd be surprised at how much of my life has been influenced by the Simpsons. But that's a story for another time.
So, while I've always wanted to play the sax, I find myself wondering if perhaps the bassoon is not my imaginary calling after all. It's bigger, more obscure, and perhaps most importantly, not as important. When the band plays, I can recognize the saxophone. I can recognize the flute and the trombone and the cymbals. But for the life of me I have no idea what a bassoon sounds like. For all I know, these guys could just be chilling in the back for the whole concert, talking about how awesome their bassoons are. (2 points if you get the alliteration on that one)
But, I digress. A man can only talk about bassoons for so long. There was one other aspect of the concert that really peeved my privates (don't ask).
What's with the clapping, guys?
It just keeps going, and going. Not even at the end of the concert, where I can understand giving a general "Right on" to the performers. Nope. After every piece, we feel the need to just clippity clap it up for like 5 minutes. I give a good 10 seconds of clapping, and then sit there awkwardly as everyone is going crazy like they just saw the greatest performance of their life.
But, such is life. Full of mysteries and disappointments. Failures and triumphs.
So it goes.
October 5, 2010
August 22, 2010
August 18, 2010
I INVENTED THE PIANO KEY NECKTIE
I'm a big fan of weird inventions. If it weren't for quirky people (read: Japanese) who invent stuff that no one in their right mind would usually use, the world would be a far drearier place.
The world of cleaning is one where weird inventions can flourish. People generally hate cleaning, but are often forced to do it for hours on end (again, this is more a Japanese thing, Americans either hire a foreigner to clean or live in filth). These countless hours of cleaning are inevitably spent trying to think of a better, easier way to do it. This has given rise to several brilliant inventions in the cleaning industry.
Say you're a mother. You have this adorable little baby that crawls around on the floor all day. Child labor laws do not permit you to send them off to the factory (for another 6 months at least), and you're desperate for it to start pulling its own weight.
Your search for a productive infant outlet is over. I give to you... the baby mop.
It looks something like this.
What's that, you say? That looks cruel and hideous? It looks like it should be outlawed? I, too, felt this way once, until I discovered this next photo.
Look at him! Happy (that's the Japanese expression for delight, by the way) and productive. He's going to make his parents proud one day.
Another problem that often ails the world of cleaning is that of old age. Oftentimes, a young girl will work in the cleaning industry from the age of 9 or 10, and not get a pay raise for the next 70 years. As she reaches the twilight of her life, she will start to develop various physical maladies, and become less productive as a cleaner. Because she is still making 80 yen per hour, she has no savings and will starve if she can no longer work.
Now, conventional wisdom would say to let her go, to cull the herd, if you will. But that's what's so great about the Japanese, they go against the grain.
Thus, I give to you, the slipper-broom-dustpan-cleaning-thing.
Just because you can't bend over doesn't mean you can't work.
Man, this was supposed to be a post about neckties, and how they suck. I really need to work on my focusing skills...
The world of cleaning is one where weird inventions can flourish. People generally hate cleaning, but are often forced to do it for hours on end (again, this is more a Japanese thing, Americans either hire a foreigner to clean or live in filth). These countless hours of cleaning are inevitably spent trying to think of a better, easier way to do it. This has given rise to several brilliant inventions in the cleaning industry.
Say you're a mother. You have this adorable little baby that crawls around on the floor all day. Child labor laws do not permit you to send them off to the factory (for another 6 months at least), and you're desperate for it to start pulling its own weight.
Your search for a productive infant outlet is over. I give to you... the baby mop.
It looks something like this.
What's that, you say? That looks cruel and hideous? It looks like it should be outlawed? I, too, felt this way once, until I discovered this next photo.
Look at him! Happy (that's the Japanese expression for delight, by the way) and productive. He's going to make his parents proud one day.
Another problem that often ails the world of cleaning is that of old age. Oftentimes, a young girl will work in the cleaning industry from the age of 9 or 10, and not get a pay raise for the next 70 years. As she reaches the twilight of her life, she will start to develop various physical maladies, and become less productive as a cleaner. Because she is still making 80 yen per hour, she has no savings and will starve if she can no longer work.
Now, conventional wisdom would say to let her go, to cull the herd, if you will. But that's what's so great about the Japanese, they go against the grain.
Thus, I give to you, the slipper-broom-dustpan-cleaning-thing.
Just because you can't bend over doesn't mean you can't work.
Man, this was supposed to be a post about neckties, and how they suck. I really need to work on my focusing skills...
June 7, 2010
Sitting
Everybody has their perfect job. Guidance counselor's sometimes say: "If money wasn't an issue, what job would you see yourself doing." Then, of course, that's the job you should take. That works really great if you have a burning desire to practice corporate law, but not so good if you get your kicks by cleaning up horse poop all day.
Some people have just one dream job. A friend of mine who has recently become a 'follower' on here, (and thus deserves a shout-out), has the dream of being a mattress tester. I wish him luck in this endeavor, and will be greatly impressed if he can make a career out of it.
Myself, I have two dreams, and luckily they are not mutually exclusive. For a long time I have wanted to be a teacher. In recent years I have settled on becoming a high school English teacher, because I've had enough experience in the field to know what a difference a not-shitty teacher can make.
In recent years, or year, I've also decided that I want to carpent. I want to build my own house someday. I just think it would be pretty cool to go home at night, stand in my driveway, look at my house, and think, "That was me."
I think both of these dreams have to do with leaving a mark on the world, with doing something real, and tangible. Creating something that will last. An education does that, obviously, by changing the youth of the future. Not just by teaching them what a badass Shakespeare was, but by changing the kind of people they'll turn out to be.
On the other hand, there's something to be said for a real-life building. Something you can walk around in, have babies in, buy insurance for.
Of course, the best laid plans...
We'll see what happens.
Some people have just one dream job. A friend of mine who has recently become a 'follower' on here, (and thus deserves a shout-out), has the dream of being a mattress tester. I wish him luck in this endeavor, and will be greatly impressed if he can make a career out of it.
Myself, I have two dreams, and luckily they are not mutually exclusive. For a long time I have wanted to be a teacher. In recent years I have settled on becoming a high school English teacher, because I've had enough experience in the field to know what a difference a not-shitty teacher can make.
In recent years, or year, I've also decided that I want to carpent. I want to build my own house someday. I just think it would be pretty cool to go home at night, stand in my driveway, look at my house, and think, "That was me."
I think both of these dreams have to do with leaving a mark on the world, with doing something real, and tangible. Creating something that will last. An education does that, obviously, by changing the youth of the future. Not just by teaching them what a badass Shakespeare was, but by changing the kind of people they'll turn out to be.
On the other hand, there's something to be said for a real-life building. Something you can walk around in, have babies in, buy insurance for.
Of course, the best laid plans...
We'll see what happens.
June 4, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
