Sometimes, I just don't know what my problem is. I mean, I know what my problem is. Plenty of people have told me what my problem is. And sometimes I have to admit, they have a point.
Why can't I improve myself? I do the same stupid things over and over again that I know are not going to help me achieve any of my life goals. I make the same mistakes, stick to the same patterns, and generally don't seem to care. But I do care.
I really want to fix my issues. Is it that I don't know how? It is just too hard? Am I too lazy or selfish? I honestly don't know why I can't break free of myself and just be better than I am. I am a reasonably intelligent person, and one would think that I could figure out a way to stop doing all the things I would like to stop doing. And yet, here I am. Being myself. Doing all the things, good and bad, that I do.
Now before you all start with the commenting, I just want to say that I am not fishing for compliments here, nor sympathy. I am fully aware of all the awesomeness that I possess. My frustration is not that I suck, just that I don't seem to be able to do anything about that parts of me that do. I know, I know, nobody's perfect. But couldn't I just be a little more perfect? Is that so much to ask?
Externally I'm doing fine, my career seems to be improving and my family is super cute, but internally I feel stalled. I don't need suggestions like "stop being so annoying," "don't be so forgetful," or "try not to be so funny looking." Believe me, I know the what. It's the how I can't seem to figure out. Anyone out there have any tips on meaningful and lasting personal growth? If not, just send cash.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
I Am Serious, and Don't Call Me Shirley
Leslie Nielsen has passed away at the age of 84. Like anyone else who has had an influence on me, this news makes me sad, but also gives me pause to remember the good times that we shared together. Here's one of my favorite memories.
When I was growing up I lived a very sheltered life, pop culturally speaking. My family didn't own a VCR or get cable TV until I was in high school, and really we were only allowed to watch PBS. Kids at school would come in on Monday mornings talking about movies they had all seen, and would just listen in wonder. I wasn't really jealous per say, but I was always interested in this entertainment world that was not a part of my life.
This story begins at Steve's birthday party. I was probably in 5th grade. The most risque thing I had ever seen in my life thus far was ALF. Steve was having a sleepover, and we were going to watch movies, which I was very excited about. Steve's mom, who was the coolest mom anyone ever had, was watching them with us, and we started with The Naked Gun.
From the opening sequence, my life was changed forever. For one thing, there were boobs. I don't think I even knew enough about life to be scandalized by this. For all I knew, every movie had scenes of police cars driving through women's showers. But I knew that I liked it, and the Smurfs were never going to be enough for me. Steve's mom was very helpful as well. Still young enough not to feel embarrassed by my own inexperience, I asked a ton of questions. When Priscilla Presley starts coming down from the attic and Leslie Nielsen gazed up her skirt and says "Nice Beaver!" (to which she replies, "Thanks, I just had it stuffed," and reveals an actual stuffed beaver) I asked why everyone was laughing, and I learned that "beaver" had another meaning. I learned a lot that day.
We followed up that movie with "Airplane" as well as "Airplane 2" (which contains all the same jokes as Airplane 1, only in space!) and Leslie Nielsen became my hero. I still quote those movies more than any others, and I am not overstating things when I say that the trajectory of my life was changed. I watched many more movies at Steve's house, and I learned a lot of things, but I will always remember that first day with great fondness, and I will always have a deep love for all of Mr. Nielsen's movies, even the terrible ones.
My personal sadness when one of my favorite performers dies, is that I will never have the chance to meet them and tell them how much they touched my life in person. Sure, that was probably not going to happen anyway, but now the chance is gone. His time in history has passed. Goodbye old friend, but know that every time I see a stuffed beaver or a giant human sized condom, I'll be thinking of you.
When I was growing up I lived a very sheltered life, pop culturally speaking. My family didn't own a VCR or get cable TV until I was in high school, and really we were only allowed to watch PBS. Kids at school would come in on Monday mornings talking about movies they had all seen, and would just listen in wonder. I wasn't really jealous per say, but I was always interested in this entertainment world that was not a part of my life.
This story begins at Steve's birthday party. I was probably in 5th grade. The most risque thing I had ever seen in my life thus far was ALF. Steve was having a sleepover, and we were going to watch movies, which I was very excited about. Steve's mom, who was the coolest mom anyone ever had, was watching them with us, and we started with The Naked Gun.
From the opening sequence, my life was changed forever. For one thing, there were boobs. I don't think I even knew enough about life to be scandalized by this. For all I knew, every movie had scenes of police cars driving through women's showers. But I knew that I liked it, and the Smurfs were never going to be enough for me. Steve's mom was very helpful as well. Still young enough not to feel embarrassed by my own inexperience, I asked a ton of questions. When Priscilla Presley starts coming down from the attic and Leslie Nielsen gazed up her skirt and says "Nice Beaver!" (to which she replies, "Thanks, I just had it stuffed," and reveals an actual stuffed beaver) I asked why everyone was laughing, and I learned that "beaver" had another meaning. I learned a lot that day.
We followed up that movie with "Airplane" as well as "Airplane 2" (which contains all the same jokes as Airplane 1, only in space!) and Leslie Nielsen became my hero. I still quote those movies more than any others, and I am not overstating things when I say that the trajectory of my life was changed. I watched many more movies at Steve's house, and I learned a lot of things, but I will always remember that first day with great fondness, and I will always have a deep love for all of Mr. Nielsen's movies, even the terrible ones.
My personal sadness when one of my favorite performers dies, is that I will never have the chance to meet them and tell them how much they touched my life in person. Sure, that was probably not going to happen anyway, but now the chance is gone. His time in history has passed. Goodbye old friend, but know that every time I see a stuffed beaver or a giant human sized condom, I'll be thinking of you.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Tongue Twister Parables
I thought I was done converting the words of Jesus into poetry. I had written limericks, haikus, and sonnets. Unless I was going to write a set of epic poems (and who has time for that?) I was out of silly poetic forms to use. That is, until my friend Eric jokingly suggested that I could make the parables into tongue twisters. Ha ha! Well, challenge accepted!
1) Tommy Tucker took a trip to town
Down and dirty dirtbags dumped Tommy down
Passing priest, plus probably prickly people, puttered past
Samaritan suddenly stopped, seeing sick savagery, saving sore sufferer
2) Baby brother bought a bunch of beer and booty
But he blew his big break behaving badly
Baby brother begged begetter for a business billet
Big begetter bade his bootlickers butcher the beefy bovine
But beer and booty bought before made bigger brother bitter
3) Silly shepherd sat shearing sheep
Never noticed now numbered ninety-nine
Luckless loser left the lot looking later for lost lamb on the lam
4) Loaded leader laid out luscious luncheons
Big shot bade his buddies be on board but bad buddies bugged out
Stunned CEO sadly sent servants searching for supper substitutes
Big banquet began by buying bums brunch
5) Prosperous person picked pricey pearl
Same certain somebody sold stuff to secure said stone
Presently, poor person possesses pricey pearl
6) Some silly sower set seeds in soil
Silly sowing saboteur set several sinful seeds in same soil
So simultaneous seeds slowly sprouted, snaking skyward side by side
Since September, solely satisfactory seeds supply sower's sacks
Spurious seeds sit smoldering, scorched in sower's cinders
1) Tommy Tucker took a trip to town
Down and dirty dirtbags dumped Tommy down
Passing priest, plus probably prickly people, puttered past
Samaritan suddenly stopped, seeing sick savagery, saving sore sufferer
2) Baby brother bought a bunch of beer and booty
But he blew his big break behaving badly
Baby brother begged begetter for a business billet
Big begetter bade his bootlickers butcher the beefy bovine
But beer and booty bought before made bigger brother bitter
3) Silly shepherd sat shearing sheep
Never noticed now numbered ninety-nine
Luckless loser left the lot looking later for lost lamb on the lam
4) Loaded leader laid out luscious luncheons
Big shot bade his buddies be on board but bad buddies bugged out
Stunned CEO sadly sent servants searching for supper substitutes
Big banquet began by buying bums brunch
5) Prosperous person picked pricey pearl
Same certain somebody sold stuff to secure said stone
Presently, poor person possesses pricey pearl
6) Some silly sower set seeds in soil
Silly sowing saboteur set several sinful seeds in same soil
So simultaneous seeds slowly sprouted, snaking skyward side by side
Since September, solely satisfactory seeds supply sower's sacks
Spurious seeds sit smoldering, scorched in sower's cinders
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Ruby Every Day
When Simone was pregnant with Ruby in 2006-2007, I saw the short film "Me" in which a girl took a picture of herself every day for three years and set it to music in a rapid time-lapse sort of way. I thought it was pretty cool at the time, and there have since been many imitators online doing similar projects, but one thing I thought about was how she really didn't change that much over three years. She pretty much looked the same at the beginning and the end. But what if you did this with a baby?
I decided to take a picture of Ruby every day, and to try and put together some sort of video which would show an awesome time-lapse progression of a child aging from birth to a year old in mere minutes. This was clearly destined for not working. The problem was not with my resolve, or with my dedication. I actually did take a picture of Ruby every day for a year. What I ran into as I tried to put the video together, was more of a problem with my model.
The girl in the original video took a picture of herself standing in the same spot, with the same expression, every single day, so there was a definite flow to the very similar images. But try telling that to a baby. Some days I could only get a good shot of her sleeping. Some days she would look left, some days right, and other days she would attempt to be as blurry as possible. She did not, at that point, speak English, so it was very hard to communicate my vision to her.
Finally, I altered my vision, and decided to just do a cool montage of Ruby pictures, set to songs about Ruby. I am reminded of this project now, as I attempt to put together a similar video for Edward, and as it will be another 4 or 5 months until that one is done, I will leave you with Ruby's video. Warning: it's kind of long and contains 367 cute pictures of Ruby, so don't feel obliged to watch it, but for those of you who like that sort of thing (Hi Mom), here it is.
I decided to take a picture of Ruby every day, and to try and put together some sort of video which would show an awesome time-lapse progression of a child aging from birth to a year old in mere minutes. This was clearly destined for not working. The problem was not with my resolve, or with my dedication. I actually did take a picture of Ruby every day for a year. What I ran into as I tried to put the video together, was more of a problem with my model.
The girl in the original video took a picture of herself standing in the same spot, with the same expression, every single day, so there was a definite flow to the very similar images. But try telling that to a baby. Some days I could only get a good shot of her sleeping. Some days she would look left, some days right, and other days she would attempt to be as blurry as possible. She did not, at that point, speak English, so it was very hard to communicate my vision to her.
Finally, I altered my vision, and decided to just do a cool montage of Ruby pictures, set to songs about Ruby. I am reminded of this project now, as I attempt to put together a similar video for Edward, and as it will be another 4 or 5 months until that one is done, I will leave you with Ruby's video. Warning: it's kind of long and contains 367 cute pictures of Ruby, so don't feel obliged to watch it, but for those of you who like that sort of thing (Hi Mom), here it is.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Family Pictures
It was soon after I woke up that everything went to hell. We had decided not to put anything on the children, clothes-wise, until we absolutely had to, because it was family picture day. We had an appointment at 12:15, and so were trying to eat a late breakfast, hoping to hold off lunch until after the photo shoot. Nudey Ruby had a banana and baby Edward had milk. Simone was putting Ruby in her tights when I shouted "Wait! She hasn't brushed her teeth yet!"
"Well, I'm not stopping now, we've got one leg in!" Ruby came trotting over to me wearing only her tights, ready for teeth brushing as the baby attempted to set the world drooling record on the couch. At the end, frothy toothpaste was everywhere, just as I had imagined, so we cleaned up and Ruby went back to Mom to get her dress on. I was trying to get Edward ready to go when Simone called out from Ruby's room "Did you print the coupon?"
Of course I had not printed the coupon, so I left Edward half ready and ran to the computer to find the precious 40% off that made the whole day possible. Ruby appeared at this point in her dress, ready to get her coat on. The coupon printed, as we headed over to the door to get Ruby's shoes. "Which shoes is she wearing?" I asked.
"The black ones," said my wife, in a tone that indicated I should not be asking questions I should already know the answer to. "Have you seen my black sweater?" I had not seen her black sweater, and at this point I was in a frantic search for the black shoes. I found one pretty easily, because it had just been thrown at me by my wife, but the other one was nowhere to be found. It was as I was lying on the floor, straining my arm to reach under the bench, hearing crashing and cursing coming from the bedroom, that I started laughing at the absurd irony of it all. I didn't need to be stressed about this, I was just living a classic harried parent picture day stereotype. I got Ruby's coat on, got Edward's coat on, and started looking for both the shoe and the sweater.
It wasn't long before I stopped laughing, because now we were behind schedule and neither the shoe nor the sweater appeared to be anywhere in the house. "Hey," shouted Ruby, "Edward found my shoe!" What was this? Oh yes, the baby somehow was lying on the floor, ignored by all, and he was pointing at Ruby's other shoe. A holiday miracle if I ever saw one. Simone found a different sweater, everyone was dressed, except for Edward who was going to be dressed at the last possible second for security purposes, and we headed out the door and into the car.
We were about ten minutes past the point of no return when Simone asked me "Did you remember the coupon?"
The lady in front of me at The UPS Store was possibly the oldest, slowest person I have ever seen standing upright. She counted out her payment in nickels and pennies (I am not kidding about this) and it seemed like hours until I got up to the counter and asked if I could get online to print out a coupon. It took me about seven seconds, and it cost me exactly seven cents. I rushed back out to the car, coupon in hand, as Ruby loudly sang a mash-up of "Jingle Bells" and "Old McDonald Had a Farm" for the twenty third time.
We made it to the studio at 12:10, starving, frazzled and frizzy. Ruby refused to let anyone touch her hair with a brush, Edward needed a diaper and was still not dressed, and Simone and I were at the end of our ropes. But we worked our parenting magic, and by 12:15 everyone was ready and looking angelic. I walked in and announced our presence proudly. The photographer just looked at me blankly and said "Yeah, well those people over there are the 12:00, and we haven't even gotten to them yet. It's going to be 30 minutes to an hour until we get to you. Do you have a cell phone number?"
We managed to keep ourselves occupied in the toy department for a long time, but Ruby's Christmas list has gotten a lot longer. The photo shoot finally started around 1:00 and when we were done around 1:15 or 1:20 the photographer said, in the interest of time and fairness, that she was going to shoot the 12:30 people, and if we could come back in 15-20 minutes we could choose which photos we liked and all that. I think it was right around that time that my brain completely melted. Candy and potato chips for everyone! We sat on the floor of the K-Mart eating pringles and combos and candy bars, having lost the will to look good, and wishing it was lunch time.
We choose our shots pretty quickly, and decided to head to one of our favorite lunch spots for the best Cuban pork sandwiches on the planet. We got there at 2:00. For some reason our sandwiches were not ready for another 35 minutes, and I have to say, even after everything we had been through, these 35 minutes were the hardest. We were all starving, exhausted, and confused. There was no one else in the deli! How long did it take to make three sandwiches?! And the kicker was, when they finally arrived, the sandwiches were nothing like we remembered. The bread was different, the ingredients were not the same, and I basically wanted to start crying. But I stayed strong and ate my sandwich in sad silence, trying to remember the hilarious irony that I had felt earlier.
We are going to pick up our pictures in two weeks, because apparently that's how long it takes to print digital pictures these days. They'd better be worth it is all I'm saying.
"Well, I'm not stopping now, we've got one leg in!" Ruby came trotting over to me wearing only her tights, ready for teeth brushing as the baby attempted to set the world drooling record on the couch. At the end, frothy toothpaste was everywhere, just as I had imagined, so we cleaned up and Ruby went back to Mom to get her dress on. I was trying to get Edward ready to go when Simone called out from Ruby's room "Did you print the coupon?"
Of course I had not printed the coupon, so I left Edward half ready and ran to the computer to find the precious 40% off that made the whole day possible. Ruby appeared at this point in her dress, ready to get her coat on. The coupon printed, as we headed over to the door to get Ruby's shoes. "Which shoes is she wearing?" I asked.
"The black ones," said my wife, in a tone that indicated I should not be asking questions I should already know the answer to. "Have you seen my black sweater?" I had not seen her black sweater, and at this point I was in a frantic search for the black shoes. I found one pretty easily, because it had just been thrown at me by my wife, but the other one was nowhere to be found. It was as I was lying on the floor, straining my arm to reach under the bench, hearing crashing and cursing coming from the bedroom, that I started laughing at the absurd irony of it all. I didn't need to be stressed about this, I was just living a classic harried parent picture day stereotype. I got Ruby's coat on, got Edward's coat on, and started looking for both the shoe and the sweater.
It wasn't long before I stopped laughing, because now we were behind schedule and neither the shoe nor the sweater appeared to be anywhere in the house. "Hey," shouted Ruby, "Edward found my shoe!" What was this? Oh yes, the baby somehow was lying on the floor, ignored by all, and he was pointing at Ruby's other shoe. A holiday miracle if I ever saw one. Simone found a different sweater, everyone was dressed, except for Edward who was going to be dressed at the last possible second for security purposes, and we headed out the door and into the car.
We were about ten minutes past the point of no return when Simone asked me "Did you remember the coupon?"
The lady in front of me at The UPS Store was possibly the oldest, slowest person I have ever seen standing upright. She counted out her payment in nickels and pennies (I am not kidding about this) and it seemed like hours until I got up to the counter and asked if I could get online to print out a coupon. It took me about seven seconds, and it cost me exactly seven cents. I rushed back out to the car, coupon in hand, as Ruby loudly sang a mash-up of "Jingle Bells" and "Old McDonald Had a Farm" for the twenty third time.
We made it to the studio at 12:10, starving, frazzled and frizzy. Ruby refused to let anyone touch her hair with a brush, Edward needed a diaper and was still not dressed, and Simone and I were at the end of our ropes. But we worked our parenting magic, and by 12:15 everyone was ready and looking angelic. I walked in and announced our presence proudly. The photographer just looked at me blankly and said "Yeah, well those people over there are the 12:00, and we haven't even gotten to them yet. It's going to be 30 minutes to an hour until we get to you. Do you have a cell phone number?"
We managed to keep ourselves occupied in the toy department for a long time, but Ruby's Christmas list has gotten a lot longer. The photo shoot finally started around 1:00 and when we were done around 1:15 or 1:20 the photographer said, in the interest of time and fairness, that she was going to shoot the 12:30 people, and if we could come back in 15-20 minutes we could choose which photos we liked and all that. I think it was right around that time that my brain completely melted. Candy and potato chips for everyone! We sat on the floor of the K-Mart eating pringles and combos and candy bars, having lost the will to look good, and wishing it was lunch time.
We choose our shots pretty quickly, and decided to head to one of our favorite lunch spots for the best Cuban pork sandwiches on the planet. We got there at 2:00. For some reason our sandwiches were not ready for another 35 minutes, and I have to say, even after everything we had been through, these 35 minutes were the hardest. We were all starving, exhausted, and confused. There was no one else in the deli! How long did it take to make three sandwiches?! And the kicker was, when they finally arrived, the sandwiches were nothing like we remembered. The bread was different, the ingredients were not the same, and I basically wanted to start crying. But I stayed strong and ate my sandwich in sad silence, trying to remember the hilarious irony that I had felt earlier.
We are going to pick up our pictures in two weeks, because apparently that's how long it takes to print digital pictures these days. They'd better be worth it is all I'm saying.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thankful
Today is Thanksgiving, and I have a lot to be thankful for. It's not easy trying to forge a career in the performing arts. There aren't a lot of people who can make a living at it full time, and there are even fewer of those people who have the support of a wonderful family behind them. I know people whose parents still tell them to get "real" jobs, and I know many more people who have had relationships fail under the heavy load of constant travel, financial uncertainty and a fluctuating schedule. To have a fantastic wife and two wonderful children behind me makes everything else worthwhile.
When we left Baltimore for Vermont, we did it with no jobs in sight, and mostly blind faith leading us forward. Thanks to extended family we have a place to stay, someone to watch the kids while we are out singing or on job interviews, and loads of encouragement. Thanks just doesn't seem like enough of a word.
I just finished a gig with the New York City Opera. I know, I still can't believe it either! Simone is getting job interviews in a down (but improving!) economy. We randomly found a pre-school down the road that has an opening for a 3 year old, when every other place has a year long wait list. Edward said "da da" yesterday for the first time, as he grabbed my finger. The future is looking bright.
I don't want to kid you all, sometimes I do sit around and mope, feeling broke, talentless, and lost on a sea of hopeless bleak despair. But today, on a day of giving thanks, when I really think about it, I almost can't believe how lucky I am. So thank you friends, thank you family, and thank you God. I am living a truly blessed life and it's only getting better. Happy Thanksgiving.
When we left Baltimore for Vermont, we did it with no jobs in sight, and mostly blind faith leading us forward. Thanks to extended family we have a place to stay, someone to watch the kids while we are out singing or on job interviews, and loads of encouragement. Thanks just doesn't seem like enough of a word.
I just finished a gig with the New York City Opera. I know, I still can't believe it either! Simone is getting job interviews in a down (but improving!) economy. We randomly found a pre-school down the road that has an opening for a 3 year old, when every other place has a year long wait list. Edward said "da da" yesterday for the first time, as he grabbed my finger. The future is looking bright.
I don't want to kid you all, sometimes I do sit around and mope, feeling broke, talentless, and lost on a sea of hopeless bleak despair. But today, on a day of giving thanks, when I really think about it, I almost can't believe how lucky I am. So thank you friends, thank you family, and thank you God. I am living a truly blessed life and it's only getting better. Happy Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Baby Names for the Eviler or Stupider
I really thought I was done with these posts, but it turns out that there are even more ways to mess up your children, name-wise, than I had originally thought. I'm pretty sure this will be the last post of it's kind here at Tenordad.com, even if you keep sending me more names that you hate. Honestly, I'm ok with naming all of your children with the same first letter. Yes, the Duggars took it too far, but in moderation it can be cute. I am also absolutely accepting alliteration. Mandy Moore, you are fine by me.
No, to be truly evil or stupid in the naming of your children, you must do something that will at some point cause them a problem in life, and annoying other people on the internet does not count. That being said, here are the final ways that you can ensure future distress for your children via their names:
11) Naming all of Your Children the Same Thing
"Did I ever tell you that Mrs. McCave had twenty-three sons, and she named them all Dave?" Thus begins a cautionary tale by the late, great Dr. Seuss, which explains better than I ever could why it is a bad idea to name all of your children the same thing. I'll bet there were a lot of awkward silences when this poem was read at the George Foreman household at bedtime.
12) Giving Your Child the Same First Name as Their Last Name
This is apparently not self-explanatory, as I have run into more than one person whose parents actually did the unthinkable and named them something like "Michael Michaels" or "Jeff Jefferson." Are these parents afraid that their child will be too stupid to remember two names? More likely it is the parents who are too stupid to remember two names. I'm sorry Fred Frederickson, but there's nothing you can do now. The worst part is, generally last names that resemble first names are masculine (thanks a lot, history!), so you can't even change it when you get married! Not a lot of "Jane Janeson"s out there. Although in a case where two wrongs might make a right, you could always try out number thirteen on my list...
13) Giving Your Children Names of the Opposite Gender
Ok, look, I know that some names do change gender over time, like Lindsay or Stacey, but why be a pioneer? Pioneer life sucks. You live at the edge of a frontier and either get made fun of, or eaten by a bear. Let's let Sue stay a girl's name, no matter what Johnny Cash song you have heard the title of, but not listened through all the way to the end of. Unisex names are fine, but if you really are sure you are having a girl and want to name her Ruby, because you are a big fan of my blog, and it turns out to be a boy after all, for the love of all that is holy please choose a different name. I will forgive you. Edward is a fine name for a boy.
14) Adding a Letter to a Real Name to Make a New Name
True story, when we lived just outside of DC about ten years ago, our building manager's name was Tangela. Some days I just wanted to call her Angela, and some days I confused her with a small orange fruit. Either way, it was upsetting. I felt that this had to be addressed separately from the "just making up a new name" category, lest you think that you are not really making up a new name if you use a pre-existing name as your base. Let me be crystal clear here: Amanda is a name. Famanda is not a name. That is something you made up, even though it kind of sounds like a name. Other names that you made up and are not really real include Tiffanique, Bevelyn, Angina, and Sqursula.
15) Letting Your Toddler Name Your New Baby
Actually, this goes not only for babies, but for anything. We got a cat from a toddler named "Eyeball." My nieces wanted desperately to name their new baby brother "Princess." Ruby has already named her unconceived baby sister "Pirate Boat." Do you see where I am going with this? The main problem with toddlers, is that they have not read my blog, and thus have no idea what is and is not a good name for a baby. Or a cat. Therefore, it follows that they should not be allowed to name their siblings. When your toddler has a baby of their own, they can name it whatever they want. The beauty of this plan, is that by the time they have a baby of their own, they will most likely not be toddlers anymore, and so will have read my blog. Other possible names for babies that my own personal toddler has come up with are "Pineapple Underpants," "La la blah wah wakka bing bangy blup blup purple head," and "Super Mario."
No, to be truly evil or stupid in the naming of your children, you must do something that will at some point cause them a problem in life, and annoying other people on the internet does not count. That being said, here are the final ways that you can ensure future distress for your children via their names:
11) Naming all of Your Children the Same Thing
"Did I ever tell you that Mrs. McCave had twenty-three sons, and she named them all Dave?" Thus begins a cautionary tale by the late, great Dr. Seuss, which explains better than I ever could why it is a bad idea to name all of your children the same thing. I'll bet there were a lot of awkward silences when this poem was read at the George Foreman household at bedtime.
12) Giving Your Child the Same First Name as Their Last Name
This is apparently not self-explanatory, as I have run into more than one person whose parents actually did the unthinkable and named them something like "Michael Michaels" or "Jeff Jefferson." Are these parents afraid that their child will be too stupid to remember two names? More likely it is the parents who are too stupid to remember two names. I'm sorry Fred Frederickson, but there's nothing you can do now. The worst part is, generally last names that resemble first names are masculine (thanks a lot, history!), so you can't even change it when you get married! Not a lot of "Jane Janeson"s out there. Although in a case where two wrongs might make a right, you could always try out number thirteen on my list...
13) Giving Your Children Names of the Opposite Gender
Ok, look, I know that some names do change gender over time, like Lindsay or Stacey, but why be a pioneer? Pioneer life sucks. You live at the edge of a frontier and either get made fun of, or eaten by a bear. Let's let Sue stay a girl's name, no matter what Johnny Cash song you have heard the title of, but not listened through all the way to the end of. Unisex names are fine, but if you really are sure you are having a girl and want to name her Ruby, because you are a big fan of my blog, and it turns out to be a boy after all, for the love of all that is holy please choose a different name. I will forgive you. Edward is a fine name for a boy.
14) Adding a Letter to a Real Name to Make a New Name
True story, when we lived just outside of DC about ten years ago, our building manager's name was Tangela. Some days I just wanted to call her Angela, and some days I confused her with a small orange fruit. Either way, it was upsetting. I felt that this had to be addressed separately from the "just making up a new name" category, lest you think that you are not really making up a new name if you use a pre-existing name as your base. Let me be crystal clear here: Amanda is a name. Famanda is not a name. That is something you made up, even though it kind of sounds like a name. Other names that you made up and are not really real include Tiffanique, Bevelyn, Angina, and Sqursula.
15) Letting Your Toddler Name Your New Baby
Actually, this goes not only for babies, but for anything. We got a cat from a toddler named "Eyeball." My nieces wanted desperately to name their new baby brother "Princess." Ruby has already named her unconceived baby sister "Pirate Boat." Do you see where I am going with this? The main problem with toddlers, is that they have not read my blog, and thus have no idea what is and is not a good name for a baby. Or a cat. Therefore, it follows that they should not be allowed to name their siblings. When your toddler has a baby of their own, they can name it whatever they want. The beauty of this plan, is that by the time they have a baby of their own, they will most likely not be toddlers anymore, and so will have read my blog. Other possible names for babies that my own personal toddler has come up with are "Pineapple Underpants," "La la blah wah wakka bing bangy blup blup purple head," and "Super Mario."
Baby Names for the Evil or Stupid
More Baby Names for the Evil or Stupid
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Worst Toys Ever Produced
I would like to take a moment to discuss with you what have come to believe with utmost certainly are the worst toys every mass produced for the children of the general public. I am referring, of course, to Silly Bandz. If you have children, you have (or at least have heard of) these "toys." But I don't want you to think I am just being a hater. I have put a lot of thought into what makes or does not make a good toy, and have applied these criteria broadly across a wide spectrum of children's playthings. The results are irrefutable.
1) You Can't Play With Them
Now, I don't claim to know a whole lot about kids today, or what constitutes fun for them, but I'm pretty sure the point of toys is to be played with. "Now Tenordad," you are saying, "Silly Bandz are not toys, they are accessories." Well, that is just false. That's like saying a slap bracelet is not a toy. They sell it in toy stores to little kids. It's a toy.
2) They Don't Look Like Anything
The point of these Silly Bandz (or at least they way they get you to buy thousands of them) is that they are all different shapes. That is the "silly" part I suppose. They come in every shape from water buffalo to Snow White. But the thing is, they all kind of look like deformed amoebas. None of them in any way resemble the items that are advertised on the package. So you can't play with them, and they appear misshapen and deformed. Sounds like a pretty bad toy, right? But wait....
3) They Have the Durability of a Twizzler
These things are very poorly made. I mean, basically they are rubber bands, only instead of a nice strong round shape, they come in crooked, twisted shapes with lots of odd corners and angles, perfect for snapping in half. Just trying to get one on your wrist (which is the end game of this "fun" item) often results in it breaking, your three-year-old crying, and you having to buy more Silly Bandz! WHY!? What evil, extremely rich, sicko came up with this toy?! You can't play with them, they do not appear as advertised, and they break all the time! So naturally....
4) They Are the Most Popular Toy on Earth
Some schools have banned the bandz, due to violence. Kids are fighting over these things! They wear them all the way up to their elbows! They are the prison cigarettes of our public schools! I don't mean to be an alarmist, but this is just disturbing. I could understand kids fighting over something cool, like Thundercats action figures, but attacking each other over the worst toy ever produced?! No wonder the economy is down! People are losing hope for the future of our country, and rightfully so! Someday, the president of the United States of America will be someone who, at one point, probably purchased or traded Silly Bandz.
But my goal is not to judge, or to point fingers. I am but a humble public servant, who has used concrete scientific data to answer the age old question, "What is the worst toy ever?" You may do what you like with these findings. I, for one, am going to go get some Spider-Man Silly Bandz and see how far I can shoot them across the room.
1) You Can't Play With Them
Now, I don't claim to know a whole lot about kids today, or what constitutes fun for them, but I'm pretty sure the point of toys is to be played with. "Now Tenordad," you are saying, "Silly Bandz are not toys, they are accessories." Well, that is just false. That's like saying a slap bracelet is not a toy. They sell it in toy stores to little kids. It's a toy.
2) They Don't Look Like Anything
The point of these Silly Bandz (or at least they way they get you to buy thousands of them) is that they are all different shapes. That is the "silly" part I suppose. They come in every shape from water buffalo to Snow White. But the thing is, they all kind of look like deformed amoebas. None of them in any way resemble the items that are advertised on the package. So you can't play with them, and they appear misshapen and deformed. Sounds like a pretty bad toy, right? But wait....
3) They Have the Durability of a Twizzler
These things are very poorly made. I mean, basically they are rubber bands, only instead of a nice strong round shape, they come in crooked, twisted shapes with lots of odd corners and angles, perfect for snapping in half. Just trying to get one on your wrist (which is the end game of this "fun" item) often results in it breaking, your three-year-old crying, and you having to buy more Silly Bandz! WHY!? What evil, extremely rich, sicko came up with this toy?! You can't play with them, they do not appear as advertised, and they break all the time! So naturally....
4) They Are the Most Popular Toy on Earth
Some schools have banned the bandz, due to violence. Kids are fighting over these things! They wear them all the way up to their elbows! They are the prison cigarettes of our public schools! I don't mean to be an alarmist, but this is just disturbing. I could understand kids fighting over something cool, like Thundercats action figures, but attacking each other over the worst toy ever produced?! No wonder the economy is down! People are losing hope for the future of our country, and rightfully so! Someday, the president of the United States of America will be someone who, at one point, probably purchased or traded Silly Bandz.
But my goal is not to judge, or to point fingers. I am but a humble public servant, who has used concrete scientific data to answer the age old question, "What is the worst toy ever?" You may do what you like with these findings. I, for one, am going to go get some Spider-Man Silly Bandz and see how far I can shoot them across the room.
Monday, November 22, 2010
The Joshua B. Jeremiah Memorial Blog
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together today to think on the sad case of Josh Jeremiah. Let us not mourn him, for can one really be said to be dead, when one has never truly lived? You see, Josh Jeremiah has never actually existed. He is but a phantom, whispering through the winds and wires of the world we call the blogosphere.
Not the real Josh Jeremiah of course. He's alive and well and doing fine. In fact, I had lunch with him yesterday. He was in the cover cast of "A Quiet Place" with me at New York City Opera. However, in blog world, he is a zombie. A vampire. An undead, not being dead, but also not being alive. Josh Jeremiah does not read blogs.
That's fine. I don't actually read blogs either, I'm too busy writing them and singing, and reading bedtime stories, and whatnot. I also am not bothered if you do not read my blog (although I can tell from the look on your face that you do). I write my blog for myself, and for those fine upstanding citizens who want to read it. I don't blog for people who don't want to read it. That would be silly! What a terrible blog that would be. But Josh would come in every morning and tell me how he had not read my blog, like it was a thing. So I wondered, how could I make him read my blog? It became a challenge.
I posted my blog on his facebook wall. He laughed and said "nice try." I got everyone else in the cast to read my blog, and then talk about it at rehearsals. He was not interested. I stole his phone and opened my blog on it, and when he picked it up he threw the phone down like it had ebola, never once glancing at any of the words I had written, lest his eyes burn from their sockets.
Finally, I threatened to write a blog with his name in the title and only write about him and him alone. He laughed and said "I guess it would be pretty weird of me NOT to read it at that point." But I don't think he actually thought I would do it...
Not the real Josh Jeremiah of course. He's alive and well and doing fine. In fact, I had lunch with him yesterday. He was in the cover cast of "A Quiet Place" with me at New York City Opera. However, in blog world, he is a zombie. A vampire. An undead, not being dead, but also not being alive. Josh Jeremiah does not read blogs.
That's fine. I don't actually read blogs either, I'm too busy writing them and singing, and reading bedtime stories, and whatnot. I also am not bothered if you do not read my blog (although I can tell from the look on your face that you do). I write my blog for myself, and for those fine upstanding citizens who want to read it. I don't blog for people who don't want to read it. That would be silly! What a terrible blog that would be. But Josh would come in every morning and tell me how he had not read my blog, like it was a thing. So I wondered, how could I make him read my blog? It became a challenge.
I posted my blog on his facebook wall. He laughed and said "nice try." I got everyone else in the cast to read my blog, and then talk about it at rehearsals. He was not interested. I stole his phone and opened my blog on it, and when he picked it up he threw the phone down like it had ebola, never once glancing at any of the words I had written, lest his eyes burn from their sockets.
Finally, I threatened to write a blog with his name in the title and only write about him and him alone. He laughed and said "I guess it would be pretty weird of me NOT to read it at that point." But I don't think he actually thought I would do it...
Sunday, November 21, 2010
With Ends Like These, Who Needs Frenemies?
So this is my last day in New York. I am driving home to Vermont with Simone to see my children and live a slightly more normalized version of life for a while. This is, of course, an excellent opportunity to reflect back on my time here. What have I learned? What have I accomplished? How much TV did I watch?
One thing I have been thinking about as I wrap up my time here, is my friends. Every time I do a show I make a new set of friends, but invariably there is someone that you do not like, wherever you go in life. I wouldn't say I have any real enemies (if you believe that you are in fact my enemy, please comment below to let me know), but I do have people that rub me the wrong way and with whom I construct an adversarial relationship. These are different, naturally, from my ARCH-enemies, who I truly hate and will eventually destroy. No, these bothersome people are my frenemies.
I am friendly enough to my frenemies (hence the "fr" at the beginning), but I do devote time and energy to thinking about how annoying they are, or how they are preventing me from doing something I want to do. What I realized on this show, however, was that it's really not necessary. After my first week of rehearsals, I made a bold move for me. I decided to really befriend my frenemy. I decided to be really nice to them, to have discussions with them, and to not think about how much they bothered me. And do you know what? It worked! By week two, we were on very good terms, and I didn't find them nearly as annoying. Are they my favorite person in the world? No. Do I hang out with them outside of rehearsal? Never have. But boy, it sure made these last eight weeks a heck of a lot more pleasant.
I've learned a lot of things over the past two months. I've learned not to argue with crazy people on the subway, but it's a lot of fun to watch when somebody else does. I've learned that everything at Big Nick's is delicious, no matter what you order. I've learned that beds > couches > floors. I've learned that food trucks are seasonal, so if you want to seek out 25 specific ones, you should not expect to find the last three of them in November. But maybe the most important thing I will take away from all of this, is that life is better with no enemies in it. And since you can't kill them, just kind of like them instead.
One thing I have been thinking about as I wrap up my time here, is my friends. Every time I do a show I make a new set of friends, but invariably there is someone that you do not like, wherever you go in life. I wouldn't say I have any real enemies (if you believe that you are in fact my enemy, please comment below to let me know), but I do have people that rub me the wrong way and with whom I construct an adversarial relationship. These are different, naturally, from my ARCH-enemies, who I truly hate and will eventually destroy. No, these bothersome people are my frenemies.
I am friendly enough to my frenemies (hence the "fr" at the beginning), but I do devote time and energy to thinking about how annoying they are, or how they are preventing me from doing something I want to do. What I realized on this show, however, was that it's really not necessary. After my first week of rehearsals, I made a bold move for me. I decided to really befriend my frenemy. I decided to be really nice to them, to have discussions with them, and to not think about how much they bothered me. And do you know what? It worked! By week two, we were on very good terms, and I didn't find them nearly as annoying. Are they my favorite person in the world? No. Do I hang out with them outside of rehearsal? Never have. But boy, it sure made these last eight weeks a heck of a lot more pleasant.
I've learned a lot of things over the past two months. I've learned not to argue with crazy people on the subway, but it's a lot of fun to watch when somebody else does. I've learned that everything at Big Nick's is delicious, no matter what you order. I've learned that beds > couches > floors. I've learned that food trucks are seasonal, so if you want to seek out 25 specific ones, you should not expect to find the last three of them in November. But maybe the most important thing I will take away from all of this, is that life is better with no enemies in it. And since you can't kill them, just kind of like them instead.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Mysterious Game
I miss being in an a cappella group. I have been in four or five in my time, and I have never had more fun than when I was arranging music, singing with a group of friends, or just goofing off with them. One day I was driving around with my a cappella friend Ben and we were brainstorming ideas for fun parodies to arrange. Well, we hit upon something genius I thought, and eventually I went home, wrote some lyrics, and arranged the song. It was one of my favorite songs to do, and when we recorded our farewell concert as that group was breaking up, I was really excited about having a copy of it.
Only the sound guy really screwed us. He showed up almost an hour late, forced us to delay the concert, and set up his equipment wrong in the rush. We didn't get a recording of the beginning of the concert, where I had placed the song in the set list. I was furious. I was sad. I was a lot of things, but what could you do, right?
Well, we had also made a fun video for the song that played behind us while we sang it, and because I was bored yesterday, I re-recorded the song and synched it up to the video for nostalgia's sake. It's not my a cappella arrangement, but it's still fun I think. And perhaps it will be only the first of many wonderful board game parodies (a clearly neglected genre). So for your viewing and listening pleasure, I present to you now: Mysterious Game!
Only the sound guy really screwed us. He showed up almost an hour late, forced us to delay the concert, and set up his equipment wrong in the rush. We didn't get a recording of the beginning of the concert, where I had placed the song in the set list. I was furious. I was sad. I was a lot of things, but what could you do, right?
Well, we had also made a fun video for the song that played behind us while we sang it, and because I was bored yesterday, I re-recorded the song and synched it up to the video for nostalgia's sake. It's not my a cappella arrangement, but it's still fun I think. And perhaps it will be only the first of many wonderful board game parodies (a clearly neglected genre). So for your viewing and listening pleasure, I present to you now: Mysterious Game!
UPDATE: If you would prefer to watch it on youtube, it's here.
Friday, November 19, 2010
How to Write a Successful Opera
Yesterday I gave you a few tips on writing a traditional opera, but as I am sure you have now realized, that is neither possible nor lucrative. Instead, you should focus on how to write a successful opera that people will enjoy for years to come. It's easy and anyone can do it!
1) It Should Be Written By Green Day or U2
This is the easy part of writing an opera. Green Day and U2 love writing operas, but people only want to hear their rock music. They are waiting at home by the phone right now, hoping someone will call and ask them to write an opera. Just look them up in the phone book and give them a call. If they are not available, you will have to settle for Justin Bieber.
2) Have a Lot of Intermissions
Everybody knows that you don't make any money from ticket sales. Concessions is where the real profit is hiding! Since you are writing a successful opera, and since success is measured solely by money, the best thing to do is to write a seven or eight act opera, with intermissions between every act. If you can get a 2-1 ratio of intermission to opera, that would be optimal. Remember, intermissions are when people buy the booze necessary to make it through the rest of your terrible show. Not that every show is terrible, I'm just assuming that yours is because you are taking composing tips from a blog.
3) Make 'em Laugh
Nobody wants to drive home from an expensive night out bemoaning their fate, or wiping away running mascara as they sob into a hanky. No, people want to be entertained. They want to feel happy and amused! Make sure your opera is filled with hilarious jokes and one-liners. Include a lot of pratfalls and pies in the face. Basically make it as low-brow as possible. Those snooty "traditional opera" folks will be next door weeping over the fate ofCarmen, Tosca, Mimi, Violetta, while your audience will be snorting beer out of their noses. Also, try to throw in some profanity.
4) It Should Be in English
Do you speak English? No? Then how are you reading this? Oh, someone is reading it for you and translating? Hmmm. Well, that's not my point! My point is, your audience probably speaks English, so if you want the show to be successful, it should be in a language they will understand. Now this is just for a normally successful opera, mind you. If you want your opera to be the most successful opera of all time ever in recorded history, you should write it in Na'vi.
5) You Should Base it on a Popular Film or Television Show
My last, and most important point is this: If Broadway has taught us anything lately, it's that people will go see anything if it based on something they already like. This is wonderful news! It means you can put out pretty much whatever crap you want, and it will be successful, at least short term! Kung Fu Panda the Opera! There, I just gave you a million dollar idea. You're welcome.
So now you have all the tools you will need to be a successful opera composer. I hope you will all put these tips to good use, and please come see the world premiere of my hilarious new show "Two and a Half Men: The Opera" with music by Lady Gaga.
1) It Should Be Written By Green Day or U2
This is the easy part of writing an opera. Green Day and U2 love writing operas, but people only want to hear their rock music. They are waiting at home by the phone right now, hoping someone will call and ask them to write an opera. Just look them up in the phone book and give them a call. If they are not available, you will have to settle for Justin Bieber.
2) Have a Lot of Intermissions
Everybody knows that you don't make any money from ticket sales. Concessions is where the real profit is hiding! Since you are writing a successful opera, and since success is measured solely by money, the best thing to do is to write a seven or eight act opera, with intermissions between every act. If you can get a 2-1 ratio of intermission to opera, that would be optimal. Remember, intermissions are when people buy the booze necessary to make it through the rest of your terrible show. Not that every show is terrible, I'm just assuming that yours is because you are taking composing tips from a blog.
3) Make 'em Laugh
Nobody wants to drive home from an expensive night out bemoaning their fate, or wiping away running mascara as they sob into a hanky. No, people want to be entertained. They want to feel happy and amused! Make sure your opera is filled with hilarious jokes and one-liners. Include a lot of pratfalls and pies in the face. Basically make it as low-brow as possible. Those snooty "traditional opera" folks will be next door weeping over the fate of
4) It Should Be in English
Do you speak English? No? Then how are you reading this? Oh, someone is reading it for you and translating? Hmmm. Well, that's not my point! My point is, your audience probably speaks English, so if you want the show to be successful, it should be in a language they will understand. Now this is just for a normally successful opera, mind you. If you want your opera to be the most successful opera of all time ever in recorded history, you should write it in Na'vi.
5) You Should Base it on a Popular Film or Television Show
My last, and most important point is this: If Broadway has taught us anything lately, it's that people will go see anything if it based on something they already like. This is wonderful news! It means you can put out pretty much whatever crap you want, and it will be successful, at least short term! Kung Fu Panda the Opera! There, I just gave you a million dollar idea. You're welcome.
So now you have all the tools you will need to be a successful opera composer. I hope you will all put these tips to good use, and please come see the world premiere of my hilarious new show "Two and a Half Men: The Opera" with music by Lady Gaga.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
How to Write a Traditional Opera
I am in the process of writing an opera. The problem one faces when writing an opera is determining whether one wants the opera to be traditional, or successful. I have many ideas on this subject and today I will focus on the factors one should consider when writing a traditional opera. I will then follow up with a lesson on how to write a successful opera. Let's begin.
1) It Should be Written By Mozart or Puccini
This is perhaps the biggest obstacle to overcome, as I am assuming that you are hoping for the opera you are writing to be written by yourself. Also, Mozart and Verdi are dead. The easiest way to fix this is to legally change your name. That way, when you publish your finished work, you can truthfully say "A New Opera By Mozart!" or "World Premiere Of Never Heard Puccini Opera!" on your posters. If you don't want to pay the fee for having your name legally changed, you can get around this by writing under a "pen name." When possible, you should also try and name your opera "La Boheme."
2) It Should Be as Long as Possible
A common newbie mistake among opera composers is failing to produce works longer than three hours. Opera is expensive, and when people buy tickets, they expect to be entertained for at least four or five hours. Longer if at all possible. Traditional opera composers use a trick called "theme and variations," and you can too! This simply means that when you have run out of ideas for music, simply take some of the music you have already written and use it again! Just change a little bit, like use different words, and no one will ever notice! The longer your opera is, the more traditional it will be. Just ask Wagner! When he wrote "Lord of the Ring Cycle" he made it so long that it is statistically impossible to experience all of it in one average lifetime. This is why many opera companies do the abridged version of this epic masterpiece. You will often hear the abridged version referred to as "Gianni Schicchi" and it compresses all of Wager's operas into 45 minutes!
3) Everyone Should Die
If any of your characters are still alive at the end of the opera, you are not doing it right. This traditional stems from the cautionary tale of one Jack Rossini. He wrote an opera called "The Barber of Seville" (later remade into the movie "Sweeny Todd") in 1816, in which he failed to kill off all of the characters at the end. Think, then, how horrified he was, when just a few years later, in 1786, Mr. Wolf Mozart wrote an unauthorized sequel called "The Marriage of Figaro." The opera world never fully recovered from this scandal, and to prevent such acts from ever occurring again, it is now traditional to erase any hopes of a sequel with the deaths of all major characters. If you have written yourself into a corner and can't think of any way for your character to die, just have them kill themselves. It's the traditional thing to do.
4) It Should Not Be in English
So many American composers these days are writing operas in English. What a joke! Everyone knows that traditional operas are not written in English. Mostly they are written in Italian, like "Rigoletto" and "Cosi fan tutte," and occasionally we let one slide in German (Die Zauberflöte) or French (La Cage aux Folles), but if you write an opera in English, people will know what you are saying, and they might discover that you don't really know how to write an opera, and that is the last thing you want. The best thing to do, really, is write either in a language that most people cannot speak, like Votic, or else just make up your own language.
5) You Should Have Written it a Long Time Ago
My last, and most important point is this: All of the good traditional songs have already been written. You should have started writing your traditional opera about 250 years ago, and now it is too late. These days anything you write will be "modern opera" and will include things like someone hitting a cymbal as they dip it in and out of a bucket of water. There are only 12 notes and they can only go together so many ways. Face it, you will never write a traditional opera. But there is still hope! You can still write a successful opera. More on that tomorrow.
1) It Should be Written By Mozart or Puccini
This is perhaps the biggest obstacle to overcome, as I am assuming that you are hoping for the opera you are writing to be written by yourself. Also, Mozart and Verdi are dead. The easiest way to fix this is to legally change your name. That way, when you publish your finished work, you can truthfully say "A New Opera By Mozart!" or "World Premiere Of Never Heard Puccini Opera!" on your posters. If you don't want to pay the fee for having your name legally changed, you can get around this by writing under a "pen name." When possible, you should also try and name your opera "La Boheme."
2) It Should Be as Long as Possible
A common newbie mistake among opera composers is failing to produce works longer than three hours. Opera is expensive, and when people buy tickets, they expect to be entertained for at least four or five hours. Longer if at all possible. Traditional opera composers use a trick called "theme and variations," and you can too! This simply means that when you have run out of ideas for music, simply take some of the music you have already written and use it again! Just change a little bit, like use different words, and no one will ever notice! The longer your opera is, the more traditional it will be. Just ask Wagner! When he wrote "Lord of the Ring Cycle" he made it so long that it is statistically impossible to experience all of it in one average lifetime. This is why many opera companies do the abridged version of this epic masterpiece. You will often hear the abridged version referred to as "Gianni Schicchi" and it compresses all of Wager's operas into 45 minutes!
3) Everyone Should Die
If any of your characters are still alive at the end of the opera, you are not doing it right. This traditional stems from the cautionary tale of one Jack Rossini. He wrote an opera called "The Barber of Seville" (later remade into the movie "Sweeny Todd") in 1816, in which he failed to kill off all of the characters at the end. Think, then, how horrified he was, when just a few years later, in 1786, Mr. Wolf Mozart wrote an unauthorized sequel called "The Marriage of Figaro." The opera world never fully recovered from this scandal, and to prevent such acts from ever occurring again, it is now traditional to erase any hopes of a sequel with the deaths of all major characters. If you have written yourself into a corner and can't think of any way for your character to die, just have them kill themselves. It's the traditional thing to do.
4) It Should Not Be in English
So many American composers these days are writing operas in English. What a joke! Everyone knows that traditional operas are not written in English. Mostly they are written in Italian, like "Rigoletto" and "Cosi fan tutte," and occasionally we let one slide in German (Die Zauberflöte) or French (La Cage aux Folles), but if you write an opera in English, people will know what you are saying, and they might discover that you don't really know how to write an opera, and that is the last thing you want. The best thing to do, really, is write either in a language that most people cannot speak, like Votic, or else just make up your own language.
5) You Should Have Written it a Long Time Ago
My last, and most important point is this: All of the good traditional songs have already been written. You should have started writing your traditional opera about 250 years ago, and now it is too late. These days anything you write will be "modern opera" and will include things like someone hitting a cymbal as they dip it in and out of a bucket of water. There are only 12 notes and they can only go together so many ways. Face it, you will never write a traditional opera. But there is still hope! You can still write a successful opera. More on that tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The Latest 25 Mix
I like music. I like almost all kinds of music. I sing opera for a living, but when I'm not on the job I don't like listening to classical music. My iPod is mostly full of what one might hear on the radio. It gives me a nice break from whatever I'm working on. But my iPod is really full. Currently there are 20,907 tracks on it. That sometimes makes it hard to just flip through and find what I want to listen to, so I created a mix of the last 25 songs that have caught my ear. Whenever I add a new song, I delete the oldest one, so I always have a pretty fresh playlist of things I don't have to go searching for. These are not the albums or artists I listen to non-stop necessarily, but rather the guilty pleasures, readily accessible for easy consumption. And now, so that you may properly scoff and judge me: the songs that are currently on my Latest 25 Mix.
1) Break Your Heart, by Taio Cruz (ft. Ludacris) - If I had to pick, I would probably say this is Simone's favorite pop song of 2010, but I could be wrong.
2) Love Drunk, by Boys Like Girls - This song totally rocks when you are out jogging and are kind of pissed at someone.
3) Come on Get Higher, by Matt Nathanson - Some of these songs will have people groaning because they are overplayed on the radio, but I only listen to the radio like once a month, so I never have that problem.
4) Replay, by Sean Kingston - Every time this song comes on, Ruby says "Hey, I think the iPod put this song on because it is about iPods!"
5) Dream On, the Glee Cast Version - I already liked the song, but having Neil Patrick Harris sing it bumped it onto the mix.
6) Fallin' and Flying, by Jeff Bridges - After I saw Crazy Heart I wanted to put all the songs on the Latest 25 Mix, but I try and limit each album to only one or two tracks on the mix. If I want to hear the whole album, I'll just play the whole album, right?
7) California Gurls, by Katy Perry (ft. Snoop Dogg) - This was Ruby's favorite song all summer, so it had to go on the mix. Every time we heard it anywhere she got so excited for the "bikini's on top" song. Now that's good parenting.
8) Second Go, by Lights - This has such a 80's Madonna feel to it, but yet still sounds new and modern. I like it.
9) Your Love is My Drug, by Ke$ha - Ruby's other favorite song of the summer, but lest you think I am once again a bad parent, she thinks the song is called "Get Out of My Truck."
10) Romance (If I Can Get It), by The Nylons - I sang this in college and it took me forever to find the original. Once I did, I could not stop listening to it. What a fun song!
11) Billionaire, by Travie McCoy - I'm broke, so this is fun to sing.
12) Merry Happy, by Kate Nash - I first heard this song on an episode of Community, and was intrigued enough to download her whole album. It's all good, but this one sticks with me.
13) Dynamite, by Taio Cruz - Whenever he sings "Dy-no-mite" I can't help thinking of Jimmy Walker in Good Times. Anybody else have that problem?
14) Half of My Heart, by John Mayer (ft. Taylor Swift) - I'm still not sure why I like this song, but I kind of do.
15) If It's Love, by Train - I hated this song when I first heard it, but somehow every time I hear it I hate it less. Eventually I hated it so little it got put on the mix.
16) Game On, by Felicia Day and the Guild - I love me some nerd rock. Especially Bollywood style.
17) Misery, by Maroon 5 - Ok, so they have never been as good as they were on "Songs About Jane," but I want to keep giving them a chance, and nothing they put out is really bad so.....
18) Kissed It, by Macy Gray (ft. Velvet Revolver) - Was it Bravo, or Lifetime that was running the ads with this song in them? I forget, but the song got stuck in my head, and it's still there.
19) Find My Way, by The Gabe Dixon Band - This, paired with the latest Owl City song (#21), was my theme song for the first month I was in New York. It speaks to both striking out in something new, as well as trying to get home again.
20) Stoned Soul Picnic, by The Fifth Dimension - The first time I ever heard this song was via a fantastic a cappella version by The Princeton University Katzenjammers. Having just discovered the original, I find that I actually prefer the Katzenjammers' version, but either way, this is a song to chill out to.
21) To the Sky, by Owl City - Is it still cool to like Owl City? Because I pretty much love every song this guy has ever written, and his new one, from the Owls of Ga'Hool soundtrack, is no exception. This might be tied with "Hot Air Balloon" as my favorite Owl City song.
22) Everything's Better With Muppets, by Spray - You can't fault the logic of this song.
23) Toxic, the Glee Cast Version - I was so tired of Glee doing American Idol ripoffs, that when I heard this a cappella-ish track I was so excited that I rewarded it with a spot on the mix. Little did I know the joy I would be feeling a few weeks later.
24) A Little Opera Goes a Long Way, by Sky Sailing - This is basically more Owl City, but under a different name. Again, you can't fault the logic, right?
25) Teenage Dream, the Glee Cast Version - Now THAT is some awesome a cappella singing. That's what I've been missing in Glee all season. More episodes like that and maybe the show will be good again.
So there you have it. All the terrible (and wonderful) songs that I like, exposed for all to see. But don't worry. If you hate these songs, they will be gone soon, replaced by something else catchy and mass produced. There's a certain unprintable Cee Lo song that I can't seem to stop singing tonight, so "Break Your Heart" better watch out!
1) Break Your Heart, by Taio Cruz (ft. Ludacris) - If I had to pick, I would probably say this is Simone's favorite pop song of 2010, but I could be wrong.
2) Love Drunk, by Boys Like Girls - This song totally rocks when you are out jogging and are kind of pissed at someone.
3) Come on Get Higher, by Matt Nathanson - Some of these songs will have people groaning because they are overplayed on the radio, but I only listen to the radio like once a month, so I never have that problem.
4) Replay, by Sean Kingston - Every time this song comes on, Ruby says "Hey, I think the iPod put this song on because it is about iPods!"
5) Dream On, the Glee Cast Version - I already liked the song, but having Neil Patrick Harris sing it bumped it onto the mix.
6) Fallin' and Flying, by Jeff Bridges - After I saw Crazy Heart I wanted to put all the songs on the Latest 25 Mix, but I try and limit each album to only one or two tracks on the mix. If I want to hear the whole album, I'll just play the whole album, right?
7) California Gurls, by Katy Perry (ft. Snoop Dogg) - This was Ruby's favorite song all summer, so it had to go on the mix. Every time we heard it anywhere she got so excited for the "bikini's on top" song. Now that's good parenting.
8) Second Go, by Lights - This has such a 80's Madonna feel to it, but yet still sounds new and modern. I like it.
9) Your Love is My Drug, by Ke$ha - Ruby's other favorite song of the summer, but lest you think I am once again a bad parent, she thinks the song is called "Get Out of My Truck."
10) Romance (If I Can Get It), by The Nylons - I sang this in college and it took me forever to find the original. Once I did, I could not stop listening to it. What a fun song!
11) Billionaire, by Travie McCoy - I'm broke, so this is fun to sing.
12) Merry Happy, by Kate Nash - I first heard this song on an episode of Community, and was intrigued enough to download her whole album. It's all good, but this one sticks with me.
13) Dynamite, by Taio Cruz - Whenever he sings "Dy-no-mite" I can't help thinking of Jimmy Walker in Good Times. Anybody else have that problem?
14) Half of My Heart, by John Mayer (ft. Taylor Swift) - I'm still not sure why I like this song, but I kind of do.
15) If It's Love, by Train - I hated this song when I first heard it, but somehow every time I hear it I hate it less. Eventually I hated it so little it got put on the mix.
16) Game On, by Felicia Day and the Guild - I love me some nerd rock. Especially Bollywood style.
17) Misery, by Maroon 5 - Ok, so they have never been as good as they were on "Songs About Jane," but I want to keep giving them a chance, and nothing they put out is really bad so.....
18) Kissed It, by Macy Gray (ft. Velvet Revolver) - Was it Bravo, or Lifetime that was running the ads with this song in them? I forget, but the song got stuck in my head, and it's still there.
19) Find My Way, by The Gabe Dixon Band - This, paired with the latest Owl City song (#21), was my theme song for the first month I was in New York. It speaks to both striking out in something new, as well as trying to get home again.
20) Stoned Soul Picnic, by The Fifth Dimension - The first time I ever heard this song was via a fantastic a cappella version by The Princeton University Katzenjammers. Having just discovered the original, I find that I actually prefer the Katzenjammers' version, but either way, this is a song to chill out to.
21) To the Sky, by Owl City - Is it still cool to like Owl City? Because I pretty much love every song this guy has ever written, and his new one, from the Owls of Ga'Hool soundtrack, is no exception. This might be tied with "Hot Air Balloon" as my favorite Owl City song.
22) Everything's Better With Muppets, by Spray - You can't fault the logic of this song.
23) Toxic, the Glee Cast Version - I was so tired of Glee doing American Idol ripoffs, that when I heard this a cappella-ish track I was so excited that I rewarded it with a spot on the mix. Little did I know the joy I would be feeling a few weeks later.
24) A Little Opera Goes a Long Way, by Sky Sailing - This is basically more Owl City, but under a different name. Again, you can't fault the logic, right?
25) Teenage Dream, the Glee Cast Version - Now THAT is some awesome a cappella singing. That's what I've been missing in Glee all season. More episodes like that and maybe the show will be good again.
So there you have it. All the terrible (and wonderful) songs that I like, exposed for all to see. But don't worry. If you hate these songs, they will be gone soon, replaced by something else catchy and mass produced. There's a certain unprintable Cee Lo song that I can't seem to stop singing tonight, so "Break Your Heart" better watch out!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
How the Cats Got Their Names
When Simone and I lived in a small apartment in Silver Spring, MD, we were not thinking of having any pets. We talked about it of course, but we were both working full time and felt that it would not be fair to any animal to have to be shut up in an apartment all day alone. But then we got the call.
Our friend Kim had a friend who needed to get rid of their cat. It was one of those horrible stories of "new boyfriend doesn't like the cat so it's him or me" and if nobody took in the poor thing it was going to the shelter. We agreed to go see the cat, and for me it was love at first sight. Well, almost sight. The cat ran and hid every time we tried to see it. But I gave Simone my puppy dog eyes and she knew it was a lost cause. We decided to rescue the cat.
Now about that name. This may have to be addressed in a future blog post, but the woman had decided to let her 2 year old daughter name the cat. I don't think that 2 year olds know what good names are, but regardless, the cat's name was Eyeball. Eyeball was a black cat with a big old head and a spiked collar and we came back the next day to pick him up. He was not really that excited about coming home with us, and after he got loose in the car on the way home, he spent the rest of the ride under my seat, with his head poking out between my feet as I was trying to drive. Very distracting.
As first time cat owners we had not thought about things like a cat carrier. We assumed that the cat would be overjoyed to be rescued from shelter life and would not try to claw us to death as we walked it in from the car to the apartment. Oh, how little we knew. Of course by "us" I meant "me," because as Eyeball dug his claws deeper and deeper into my shoulder, my wife walked alongside of us and took pictures and laughed.
Once he was home, we noticed that Eyeball was having a difficult time adjusting to his new home. He seemed a little surly, and clearly not the loving and wonderful "lap cat" that had been promised to us. I suppose there are two ways of looking at this. One is that perhaps he was just taking his time getting used to the new surroundings. Another would be that he was clearly in need of therapy. I won't tell you which side I was on, but I will say that when my wife called the pet psychic, the money did not come from the joint account.
The pet psychic communicated with Eyeball from Vermont through the ether while we were at work, and learned about all of his feline feelings. When we got home, we got the full report. Eyeball did not like his name. He also did not like his spiky collar. It made him feel surly and tough. In fact, he suggested to the pet psychic some names that he would like. Names like Jesse, or Jellyroll. Something playful, and not mean sounding. Well of course that all sounded perfectly reasonable, so in an effort to be supportive, I suggested we give him both of his favorite names, and so Jesse Jellyroll was born. We call him JJ now, or sometimes Mr. J, or sometimes things that I cannot write in a family friendly blog, but I must say, his behavior did improve. We got him a nice hunter green collar with no spikes and called him by his new name. The pet psychic also suggested that we give him chores to do around the house, because he wanted to feel like more a part of the family. We assigned him the jobs of catching bugs and looking out the window for intruders. Now, did his behavior improve over time because he gradually grew more comfortable in his new apartment, or was it because he had a new playful name and did "chores" that he was already doing anyway? That is not for any of us to decide.
When we decided to get a second cat, clearly the name was going to be very important. I did not want this cat ending up in therapy a few years down the road because of its name. We wanted to get a second cat for JJ so he wouldn't be so lonely while we were at work all day, so for Simone's birthday I went down to the shelter and picked out the loudest, most annoying cat I could find. I mean, at the time I thought all the squeaking and jumping about was cute, but I was not thinking long term here.
We thought "Mouse" would be a good name for a cat that squeaked, but I was concerned about the self-esteem ramifications of naming a cat "Mouse." Would it feel inferior to other cats? Aren't cats supposed to chase mice? Would the other cats make fun of it? I felt that a second, more regal sounding name was in order, and so Mousey Lionheart was born.
Now Mousey and JJ are up in Vermont with us. They can't stand each other and have never gotten along, mostly because Mouse likes to torment JJ, and he hates playing and/or having fun. They both like clawing things they shouldn't and peeing in our suitcases so that we can never go anywhere. But whatever their problems are, I feel confident that none of it is from the lack of a good name.
Our friend Kim had a friend who needed to get rid of their cat. It was one of those horrible stories of "new boyfriend doesn't like the cat so it's him or me" and if nobody took in the poor thing it was going to the shelter. We agreed to go see the cat, and for me it was love at first sight. Well, almost sight. The cat ran and hid every time we tried to see it. But I gave Simone my puppy dog eyes and she knew it was a lost cause. We decided to rescue the cat.
Now about that name. This may have to be addressed in a future blog post, but the woman had decided to let her 2 year old daughter name the cat. I don't think that 2 year olds know what good names are, but regardless, the cat's name was Eyeball. Eyeball was a black cat with a big old head and a spiked collar and we came back the next day to pick him up. He was not really that excited about coming home with us, and after he got loose in the car on the way home, he spent the rest of the ride under my seat, with his head poking out between my feet as I was trying to drive. Very distracting.
As first time cat owners we had not thought about things like a cat carrier. We assumed that the cat would be overjoyed to be rescued from shelter life and would not try to claw us to death as we walked it in from the car to the apartment. Oh, how little we knew. Of course by "us" I meant "me," because as Eyeball dug his claws deeper and deeper into my shoulder, my wife walked alongside of us and took pictures and laughed.
Once he was home, we noticed that Eyeball was having a difficult time adjusting to his new home. He seemed a little surly, and clearly not the loving and wonderful "lap cat" that had been promised to us. I suppose there are two ways of looking at this. One is that perhaps he was just taking his time getting used to the new surroundings. Another would be that he was clearly in need of therapy. I won't tell you which side I was on, but I will say that when my wife called the pet psychic, the money did not come from the joint account.
The pet psychic communicated with Eyeball from Vermont through the ether while we were at work, and learned about all of his feline feelings. When we got home, we got the full report. Eyeball did not like his name. He also did not like his spiky collar. It made him feel surly and tough. In fact, he suggested to the pet psychic some names that he would like. Names like Jesse, or Jellyroll. Something playful, and not mean sounding. Well of course that all sounded perfectly reasonable, so in an effort to be supportive, I suggested we give him both of his favorite names, and so Jesse Jellyroll was born. We call him JJ now, or sometimes Mr. J, or sometimes things that I cannot write in a family friendly blog, but I must say, his behavior did improve. We got him a nice hunter green collar with no spikes and called him by his new name. The pet psychic also suggested that we give him chores to do around the house, because he wanted to feel like more a part of the family. We assigned him the jobs of catching bugs and looking out the window for intruders. Now, did his behavior improve over time because he gradually grew more comfortable in his new apartment, or was it because he had a new playful name and did "chores" that he was already doing anyway? That is not for any of us to decide.
When we decided to get a second cat, clearly the name was going to be very important. I did not want this cat ending up in therapy a few years down the road because of its name. We wanted to get a second cat for JJ so he wouldn't be so lonely while we were at work all day, so for Simone's birthday I went down to the shelter and picked out the loudest, most annoying cat I could find. I mean, at the time I thought all the squeaking and jumping about was cute, but I was not thinking long term here.
We thought "Mouse" would be a good name for a cat that squeaked, but I was concerned about the self-esteem ramifications of naming a cat "Mouse." Would it feel inferior to other cats? Aren't cats supposed to chase mice? Would the other cats make fun of it? I felt that a second, more regal sounding name was in order, and so Mousey Lionheart was born.
Now Mousey and JJ are up in Vermont with us. They can't stand each other and have never gotten along, mostly because Mouse likes to torment JJ, and he hates playing and/or having fun. They both like clawing things they shouldn't and peeing in our suitcases so that we can never go anywhere. But whatever their problems are, I feel confident that none of it is from the lack of a good name.
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Quidditch World Cup
For those of you who are muggles (people who have not read Harry Potter) you may not be familiar with the popular sport of quidditch. Even for those of you who love Harry Potter (people who have stood in line for hours in a ridiculous getup to see one of the movies at midnight), the fact that quidditch is now a real sport played by humans might come as a surprise to you. It certainly did to me, even though I count myself in the latter category. What a delightful surprise then, to discover that the Quidditch World Cup was being held just blocks from Lincoln Center this past weekend. I cleared my schedule and headed to the field!
The rules are slightly altered in muggle quidditch, since the wizard version requires a variety of magical objects that do not exist in real life. I will not go over the original rules of quidditch, since all you need to do to figure those out is to read 4175 pages of Harry Potter novels and then spend roughly 9.7 years of your life hotly debating them on internet message boards and chat forums. Simple! I will however, try to explain the rules of what I saw yesterday.
Basically there are 6 players on each team, three hoops on each end of the field, and 5 balls. Each team has a Keeper (goalie), two Chasers (trying to get the ball through the hoops), two Beaters (it's not what it sounds like), and a Seeker, whose job it is to catch the Golden Snitch. Catching the Snitch ends the game and gives your team 30 points. Yes, yes, I know in the books you get way more points for catching the Snitch, but as I already mentioned, I am not discussing the rules of the books, so please be quiet. Shouldn't you already be in line for Thursday midnight anyway?
The five balls are the Quaffle, which you want to toss through the hoops for 10 points each, and three Bludgers. These are the balls that the Beaters peg at you as hard as they can. Man it looked fun to be a Beater. Basically it was like one-sided dodge ball, and if you get hit with a Bludger, you have to go back and tag one of your hoops before you can resume play. Oh, and of course there is one more ball - The Golden Snitch. Did I mention that the Snitch is a person? A person dressed all in yellow running around the field with a tennis ball strapped to their belt. The Snitch's job is to not let the Seekers grab their ball. And one more thing: every player has a broomstick between their legs and thus has to play the whole game one handed! A better name for this game would have been "One-handed Rugby with Sticks."
Here is a photo of one team preparing for the start of the match. You can see their hoops, and their broomsticks on the ground. Also, most teams were in ridiculous costumes, which was also awesome. Many of them had capes, or goggles, or funny names written on their jerseys. All of them were clearly having the time of their lives.
The announcers were clearly having fun as well. We had color commentary that ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous. They let the crowd know not to worry about being seen, because the field was invisible to muggles and all they would see was a quilting bee and also suddenly remember that their oven was on at home. At one point one of the announcers switched completely to Parseltongue, for the non-English speaking wizards in attendance.
The games were really fun to watch, and it made me wish I were playing rather than just watching The best part was clearly the Snitch, because he could do whatever he wanted. Generally he would run off the field and into the crowd and hide for the first half of the game. During one match I saw, the Snitch ran over to the supply tent, grabbed a referee shirt and came back to the field in disguise. No one noticed until he took off the shirt and revealed his snitchiness on the field, and the crowd went wild.
Some matches lasted over 20 minutes, and some as short as 90 seconds. In fact, I took a video of a whole game. It was very short. I suppose it depends on how fast your Snitch is.
The World Cup final match was played between Middlebury College and Tufts University. It was really no contest. Middlebury had invented the game as it is currently played, and they were the only ones not wearing goofy outfits or smiles. They clearly took this very seriously, and it showed. After about ten minutes the score was 80 to 20, with the Snitch nowhere in sight. Suddenly, having previously disappeared, the Snitch burst back onto the field, but with him he had 10-12 other Snitches, all forming a tight circle of defense around him. As the Seekers approached the clump, the Snitches burst forth and scattered all over the field. Decoys were everywhere! No one could tell which one was the real Snitch! Seekers darted this way and that, flying through clouds of yellow, trying to make out the real target. Eventually the false Snitches left the field and the Seekers were free to chase the Snitch as they saw fit. The Tufts Seeker spent his time body checking the Middlebury Seeker to the ground every time he got close to the Snitch. Everyone knew that if the Seeker was caught then Tufts would lose, no matter who caught it, because they were more than 30 points behind. After Middlebury scored twice more with the QuaffleMiddlebury Seeker, knocking him to the ground, and grabbed the Snitch ball for Tufts, ending the game with a score of 100-50. I think it was about saving face at that point.
And so ended another great year of quidditch. Almost 50 teams from all over the world (well, ok, one from Canada)came to compete for the title, and they did not disappoint us. Until next year, I leave you with this thought: anybody want to start a quidditch team with me?
To learn more about muggle quidditch, please visit www.internationalquidditch.org
The rules are slightly altered in muggle quidditch, since the wizard version requires a variety of magical objects that do not exist in real life. I will not go over the original rules of quidditch, since all you need to do to figure those out is to read 4175 pages of Harry Potter novels and then spend roughly 9.7 years of your life hotly debating them on internet message boards and chat forums. Simple! I will however, try to explain the rules of what I saw yesterday.
Basically there are 6 players on each team, three hoops on each end of the field, and 5 balls. Each team has a Keeper (goalie), two Chasers (trying to get the ball through the hoops), two Beaters (it's not what it sounds like), and a Seeker, whose job it is to catch the Golden Snitch. Catching the Snitch ends the game and gives your team 30 points. Yes, yes, I know in the books you get way more points for catching the Snitch, but as I already mentioned, I am not discussing the rules of the books, so please be quiet. Shouldn't you already be in line for Thursday midnight anyway?
The five balls are the Quaffle, which you want to toss through the hoops for 10 points each, and three Bludgers. These are the balls that the Beaters peg at you as hard as they can. Man it looked fun to be a Beater. Basically it was like one-sided dodge ball, and if you get hit with a Bludger, you have to go back and tag one of your hoops before you can resume play. Oh, and of course there is one more ball - The Golden Snitch. Did I mention that the Snitch is a person? A person dressed all in yellow running around the field with a tennis ball strapped to their belt. The Snitch's job is to not let the Seekers grab their ball. And one more thing: every player has a broomstick between their legs and thus has to play the whole game one handed! A better name for this game would have been "One-handed Rugby with Sticks."
Here is a photo of one team preparing for the start of the match. You can see their hoops, and their broomsticks on the ground. Also, most teams were in ridiculous costumes, which was also awesome. Many of them had capes, or goggles, or funny names written on their jerseys. All of them were clearly having the time of their lives.
The announcers were clearly having fun as well. We had color commentary that ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous. They let the crowd know not to worry about being seen, because the field was invisible to muggles and all they would see was a quilting bee and also suddenly remember that their oven was on at home. At one point one of the announcers switched completely to Parseltongue, for the non-English speaking wizards in attendance.
The games were really fun to watch, and it made me wish I were playing rather than just watching The best part was clearly the Snitch, because he could do whatever he wanted. Generally he would run off the field and into the crowd and hide for the first half of the game. During one match I saw, the Snitch ran over to the supply tent, grabbed a referee shirt and came back to the field in disguise. No one noticed until he took off the shirt and revealed his snitchiness on the field, and the crowd went wild.
Some matches lasted over 20 minutes, and some as short as 90 seconds. In fact, I took a video of a whole game. It was very short. I suppose it depends on how fast your Snitch is.
The World Cup final match was played between Middlebury College and Tufts University. It was really no contest. Middlebury had invented the game as it is currently played, and they were the only ones not wearing goofy outfits or smiles. They clearly took this very seriously, and it showed. After about ten minutes the score was 80 to 20, with the Snitch nowhere in sight. Suddenly, having previously disappeared, the Snitch burst back onto the field, but with him he had 10-12 other Snitches, all forming a tight circle of defense around him. As the Seekers approached the clump, the Snitches burst forth and scattered all over the field. Decoys were everywhere! No one could tell which one was the real Snitch! Seekers darted this way and that, flying through clouds of yellow, trying to make out the real target. Eventually the false Snitches left the field and the Seekers were free to chase the Snitch as they saw fit. The Tufts Seeker spent his time body checking the Middlebury Seeker to the ground every time he got close to the Snitch. Everyone knew that if the Seeker was caught then Tufts would lose, no matter who caught it, because they were more than 30 points behind. After Middlebury scored twice more with the QuaffleMiddlebury Seeker, knocking him to the ground, and grabbed the Snitch ball for Tufts, ending the game with a score of 100-50. I think it was about saving face at that point.
And so ended another great year of quidditch. Almost 50 teams from all over the world (well, ok, one from Canada)came to compete for the title, and they did not disappoint us. Until next year, I leave you with this thought: anybody want to start a quidditch team with me?
To learn more about muggle quidditch, please visit www.internationalquidditch.org
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Robbing the Casino
It was a chilly November day in Manhattan. Adam was standing outside the bank on a cell phone call with his mother. Suddenly, through the crowd, he saw a strangely familiar face. "Mom, I'll call you back," he said, abruptly hanging up the phone. He put his phone away as the tall gentleman walked towards him. "Ed Parks," Adam said with a grin, "how the hell have you been?"
It had been over two years since Adam had seen Ed, having parted ways after a summer together at the Music Academy of the West, and they were both thrilled to be reunited. "Dude, we have to get together," decided Ed after several minutes of awesome fist bumps. "What are you doing tomorrow?"
"I have an audition at noon," Adam told him, "but we could have lunch, or dinner later if you want."
"Awesome. I have a rehearsal tomorrow, but I'll call or text you and we can meet up. Now call your mother back." Ed walked off again, disappearing into the crowd of Friday evening commuters, but he had left behind an air of excitement and, although Adam didn't know it at the time, danger.
Saturday morning Adam woke up to find a text from Ed on his phone asking to meet at 5 pm. He wrote back that this was fine and set about getting ready for his audition. The audition came and went and, as Adam sat at home writing his blog, the phone rang. It was Ed. Apparently Ed's rehearsal had been cancelled and no one had thought to mention this to him, so he was now in the city a bit earlier. It was 3:30. Well, this was an occupational hazard of being an opera singer, and Adam agreed to head out immediately.
Ed was waiting by the fountain at Lincoln Center, his eyes and his cowboy boots gleaming with the promise of fun and trouble. "So, have you ever been to the ESPN Zone?" asked Ed. Adam shook his head. "Dude, it's awesome! We're going there!" They hopped a subway to Times Square and when they arrived, the ESPN Zone was all boarded up. "What the...!?" Ed turned to Adam and said simply, "So, have you ever been to Dave and Busters?"
It was still early when they walked into the Dave and Busters on 42nd Street, so they decided to start with some games before dinner. Little did they know at that time that dinner would not be for another four hours. The gaming floor was run like a Vegas casino, but instead of money, the people were after tickets. Cups and buckets filled with tickets were closely guarded by soccer moms and toddlers alike, and watching over them all were the pit bosses, who settled ticket disputes, refilled the machines, and made sure people were behaving themselves.
After a few games of Skee-ball and some "Big Jackpot" games that were clearly unwinnable, Adam and Ed spotted a game that looked a little more promising. This game involved pulling a handle that, when released, would pop a ball up towards a row of tubes and then down onto a bumpy floor spattered with differently scored holes. The object was to get the ball through one of the tubes, and/or into one of the holes. At the bottom of the board was the set of "Zero" holes that would yield no points. The big jackpot was 1000 tickets, but there were also tubes for 500, 250 and 100 tickets. After the 6-10 tickets per game of Skee-ball, this seemed like a better proposition. It also seemed like a skill based game that one could improve on, rather that the random "hit a button" jackpot games. They guys grabbed two stools and sat down to play.
At first they just couldn't believe how easy the game was. Adam's first shot in scored them 250 tickets. "Dude," Ed said, very impressed, "how did you make that shot?"
"I don't know," said Adam, equally impressed with himself. "I didn't think I got it in the tube. Let me try it again." Another shot, bouncing off the tube and into the zero hole, and another 250 tickets. "Oh my God, you just have to bounce it off the tube to get the points!" Adam exclaimed as he readied another ball. This one bounced off the tube, but flew to the other side of the game box and slipped into a zero hole. No points. "Wait, what happened?" It was at this point that the boys discovered the glitch in the game.
The zero hole on the right side of the machine was coded incorrectly. Instead of giving a zero score, it rewarded the player with 250 tickets. Every time. Well, Ed and Adam just went crazy at this point. It was not difficult at all to toss the ball into the far right zero hole. Almost 4 out of every 5 balls gave them 250 points. Suddenly they were winning tickets faster than the machine could spit them out. "Dude, slow down!" laughed Ed, "I can't keep up!"
Adam and Ed switched back and forth, taking turns shooting the ball and collecting the mountain of tickets that was quickly piling up on the floor. And not only were they gathering a huge number of tickets, but they were attracting a crowd. People wanted to know how they were doing it, and they wanted to get onto that game. There was cheering and shouting when the machine ran out of tickets and an employee had to be called over to refill the dispenser.
When their play cards ran out of money, Adam kept collecting tickets while Ed went to put more money on the card. As soon as he was back they started playing again. When all was said and done, they had won 9,961 tickets. Feeling triumphant they went to trade their winnings in for a prize, but discovered that they didn't have quite enough to get anything good. "Ed, we have to go back to the machine," Adam whispered.
But when they returned to the game, there was an out of order sign on it. Ed had been sure that the pit bosses were watching them, and this proved it. They knew something was up. Our heroes moved on to other games, but nothing was winning them tickets like before. That's when they saw someone working on the game. The case was open and the man was throwing balls through various tubes, but he seemed confused. Eventually, he closed the case, took away the out of order sign, and walked away. Adam and Ed looked at each other, and then slowly walked back to the game.
Not even daring to believe, Adam slowly pulled back the handle and let the ball fly. It slid into the zero hole and, with a ding, the game started spitting out 250 tickets. "Play it cool," Ed cautioned. "Don't look, but that guy over there is watching us." They were only 500 tickets short of a good prize, so Adam pulled back the handle again. A miss. The ball flew into the 10 point hole. Ed quickly stuffed the 250 tickets into his jacket pocket as the pit boss called another man over and pointed at the two guys at the glitchy machine. Adam was getting nervous. Ball 3 was another miss, but the next two balls hit right where he wanted them to, and the machine started whirring away again. "Come on man, we need to get out of here," insisted Ed and they both stuffed tickets into their pockets as fast as they could.
Just as they were leaving the game, the pit boss walked over with a thick notebook in one hand and a key chain in the other. Adam and Ed traded in their tickets at the desk and exchanged them for a Wii Sports Resort game (only 10500 tickets!). They watched in terror and amusement as the man with the notebook kicked some little kids off of the game and opened it up again. He clearly knew something was wrong, but still hadn't figured out what, and his eyes were on Adam and Ed.
Game in hand, the guys rushed out of Dave and Busters completely exhilarated. They knew that they had gotten away with something, but they also knew that they had spent almost $100 in tokens for a $50 video game, so who was the real loser here? Either way, the heady rush of success and escape consumed them as they headed for the nearest steak house. Since only one of them could keep the game, the other one was buying dinner.
They never went back to that Dave and Busters again, but to this day, they both look over their shoulder from time to time, and wonder if someone, somewhere, is watching them.
True story. And I got to keep the game!
It had been over two years since Adam had seen Ed, having parted ways after a summer together at the Music Academy of the West, and they were both thrilled to be reunited. "Dude, we have to get together," decided Ed after several minutes of awesome fist bumps. "What are you doing tomorrow?"
"I have an audition at noon," Adam told him, "but we could have lunch, or dinner later if you want."
"Awesome. I have a rehearsal tomorrow, but I'll call or text you and we can meet up. Now call your mother back." Ed walked off again, disappearing into the crowd of Friday evening commuters, but he had left behind an air of excitement and, although Adam didn't know it at the time, danger.
Saturday morning Adam woke up to find a text from Ed on his phone asking to meet at 5 pm. He wrote back that this was fine and set about getting ready for his audition. The audition came and went and, as Adam sat at home writing his blog, the phone rang. It was Ed. Apparently Ed's rehearsal had been cancelled and no one had thought to mention this to him, so he was now in the city a bit earlier. It was 3:30. Well, this was an occupational hazard of being an opera singer, and Adam agreed to head out immediately.
Ed was waiting by the fountain at Lincoln Center, his eyes and his cowboy boots gleaming with the promise of fun and trouble. "So, have you ever been to the ESPN Zone?" asked Ed. Adam shook his head. "Dude, it's awesome! We're going there!" They hopped a subway to Times Square and when they arrived, the ESPN Zone was all boarded up. "What the...!?" Ed turned to Adam and said simply, "So, have you ever been to Dave and Busters?"
It was still early when they walked into the Dave and Busters on 42nd Street, so they decided to start with some games before dinner. Little did they know at that time that dinner would not be for another four hours. The gaming floor was run like a Vegas casino, but instead of money, the people were after tickets. Cups and buckets filled with tickets were closely guarded by soccer moms and toddlers alike, and watching over them all were the pit bosses, who settled ticket disputes, refilled the machines, and made sure people were behaving themselves.
After a few games of Skee-ball and some "Big Jackpot" games that were clearly unwinnable, Adam and Ed spotted a game that looked a little more promising. This game involved pulling a handle that, when released, would pop a ball up towards a row of tubes and then down onto a bumpy floor spattered with differently scored holes. The object was to get the ball through one of the tubes, and/or into one of the holes. At the bottom of the board was the set of "Zero" holes that would yield no points. The big jackpot was 1000 tickets, but there were also tubes for 500, 250 and 100 tickets. After the 6-10 tickets per game of Skee-ball, this seemed like a better proposition. It also seemed like a skill based game that one could improve on, rather that the random "hit a button" jackpot games. They guys grabbed two stools and sat down to play.
At first they just couldn't believe how easy the game was. Adam's first shot in scored them 250 tickets. "Dude," Ed said, very impressed, "how did you make that shot?"
"I don't know," said Adam, equally impressed with himself. "I didn't think I got it in the tube. Let me try it again." Another shot, bouncing off the tube and into the zero hole, and another 250 tickets. "Oh my God, you just have to bounce it off the tube to get the points!" Adam exclaimed as he readied another ball. This one bounced off the tube, but flew to the other side of the game box and slipped into a zero hole. No points. "Wait, what happened?" It was at this point that the boys discovered the glitch in the game.
The zero hole on the right side of the machine was coded incorrectly. Instead of giving a zero score, it rewarded the player with 250 tickets. Every time. Well, Ed and Adam just went crazy at this point. It was not difficult at all to toss the ball into the far right zero hole. Almost 4 out of every 5 balls gave them 250 points. Suddenly they were winning tickets faster than the machine could spit them out. "Dude, slow down!" laughed Ed, "I can't keep up!"
Adam and Ed switched back and forth, taking turns shooting the ball and collecting the mountain of tickets that was quickly piling up on the floor. And not only were they gathering a huge number of tickets, but they were attracting a crowd. People wanted to know how they were doing it, and they wanted to get onto that game. There was cheering and shouting when the machine ran out of tickets and an employee had to be called over to refill the dispenser.
When their play cards ran out of money, Adam kept collecting tickets while Ed went to put more money on the card. As soon as he was back they started playing again. When all was said and done, they had won 9,961 tickets. Feeling triumphant they went to trade their winnings in for a prize, but discovered that they didn't have quite enough to get anything good. "Ed, we have to go back to the machine," Adam whispered.
But when they returned to the game, there was an out of order sign on it. Ed had been sure that the pit bosses were watching them, and this proved it. They knew something was up. Our heroes moved on to other games, but nothing was winning them tickets like before. That's when they saw someone working on the game. The case was open and the man was throwing balls through various tubes, but he seemed confused. Eventually, he closed the case, took away the out of order sign, and walked away. Adam and Ed looked at each other, and then slowly walked back to the game.
Not even daring to believe, Adam slowly pulled back the handle and let the ball fly. It slid into the zero hole and, with a ding, the game started spitting out 250 tickets. "Play it cool," Ed cautioned. "Don't look, but that guy over there is watching us." They were only 500 tickets short of a good prize, so Adam pulled back the handle again. A miss. The ball flew into the 10 point hole. Ed quickly stuffed the 250 tickets into his jacket pocket as the pit boss called another man over and pointed at the two guys at the glitchy machine. Adam was getting nervous. Ball 3 was another miss, but the next two balls hit right where he wanted them to, and the machine started whirring away again. "Come on man, we need to get out of here," insisted Ed and they both stuffed tickets into their pockets as fast as they could.
Just as they were leaving the game, the pit boss walked over with a thick notebook in one hand and a key chain in the other. Adam and Ed traded in their tickets at the desk and exchanged them for a Wii Sports Resort game (only 10500 tickets!). They watched in terror and amusement as the man with the notebook kicked some little kids off of the game and opened it up again. He clearly knew something was wrong, but still hadn't figured out what, and his eyes were on Adam and Ed.
Game in hand, the guys rushed out of Dave and Busters completely exhilarated. They knew that they had gotten away with something, but they also knew that they had spent almost $100 in tokens for a $50 video game, so who was the real loser here? Either way, the heady rush of success and escape consumed them as they headed for the nearest steak house. Since only one of them could keep the game, the other one was buying dinner.
They never went back to that Dave and Busters again, but to this day, they both look over their shoulder from time to time, and wonder if someone, somewhere, is watching them.
True story. And I got to keep the game!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Ruby's Little Sister
Ruby does not have a little sister, she has a little brother. I guess that's the problem. You see, Ruby really wants a little sister. In fact, not only does she want a little sister, but she has already decided that one is on the way. And she has named this baby "Pirate Boat."
It started out as "Pirate Ship," but it has since morphed into "Pirate Boat," and she talks about her all the time. She has even gone so far as to tell me that we need to make a list for Santa for Pirate Boat so that she can get presents this year. I told Ruby that we were not currently expecting any more children, but she would have none of it. She told me that she had met Pirate Boat in Mommy's tummy when she was in there and they had spoken many times, and she knows that eventually Pirate Boat will come out.
Mommy does not seem as excited about the idea of a Pirate Boat coming out of her as Ruby does. In fact, Mommy told Daddy that no more children of any sort will be coming out of her unless Daddy gets a real job. And even then we are only talking in the "maybe" category. This is fine with Daddy, by the way. Daddy wanted three or four kids, but that was before he HAD kids. Two kids often seem to Daddy like three or four kids, so it's a win-win for everyone. Except for poor Ruby who doesn't have a little sister.
But even if we did at some point decide to have another child, I feel like I recently read on some blog somewhere that "Pirate Boat" would not be a good name. I'm pretty sure that name breaks rules #2, #3, and #9. And possibly #7, that would be determined later I suppose. So Ruby, if you are reading this in twenty years, I'm sorry that we (I hope) did not have a little girl named Pirate Boat for you to play with, but if it makes you feel any better I also do not have a Playstation 3 and Mommy does not have a week at the spa, so we are all going through life a little wanting. And also, you are not getting double presents this year for your pretend sister. Nice try.
It started out as "Pirate Ship," but it has since morphed into "Pirate Boat," and she talks about her all the time. She has even gone so far as to tell me that we need to make a list for Santa for Pirate Boat so that she can get presents this year. I told Ruby that we were not currently expecting any more children, but she would have none of it. She told me that she had met Pirate Boat in Mommy's tummy when she was in there and they had spoken many times, and she knows that eventually Pirate Boat will come out.
Mommy does not seem as excited about the idea of a Pirate Boat coming out of her as Ruby does. In fact, Mommy told Daddy that no more children of any sort will be coming out of her unless Daddy gets a real job. And even then we are only talking in the "maybe" category. This is fine with Daddy, by the way. Daddy wanted three or four kids, but that was before he HAD kids. Two kids often seem to Daddy like three or four kids, so it's a win-win for everyone. Except for poor Ruby who doesn't have a little sister.
But even if we did at some point decide to have another child, I feel like I recently read on some blog somewhere that "Pirate Boat" would not be a good name. I'm pretty sure that name breaks rules #2, #3, and #9. And possibly #7, that would be determined later I suppose. So Ruby, if you are reading this in twenty years, I'm sorry that we (I hope) did not have a little girl named Pirate Boat for you to play with, but if it makes you feel any better I also do not have a Playstation 3 and Mommy does not have a week at the spa, so we are all going through life a little wanting. And also, you are not getting double presents this year for your pretend sister. Nice try.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Be Afraid For Your Children
If there's one thing I want to do as a parent, it's to minimize the amount of negative feelings that my children experience. Basically, I want them to be happy. Everyone is going to feel pain, anger, jealousy and fear in their lifetimes, and my goal is not to avoid those things all together, but rather to help them deal with those feelings so that they can effectively deal with them and keep negative emotions to a minimum.
Things like anger, frustration, or jealousy are not that hard to deal with because they can usually be explained away in a way that makes sense, at least to my children. "Well, yes that boy has a balloon and you don't, but you have an ice cream and he doesn't, and besides you have a balloon at home." Problem (usually) solved. But fear is a tricky emotion to deal with, because fear is often irrational.
When people make decision based on fear, the outcome is almost never what they were hoping for. They lose sight of the big picture and only focus on very selfish "here and now" factors. But try and explaining that to a three year old! I found that my general method of explaining things was not working with Ruby when she was afraid of something. So I came up with a new plan.
Whenever Ruby was afraid of something, I would pretend to be even more afraid of it. In fact, I would take it to such extremes as to be afraid of nearly everything around me. Generally this produced hilarious results and Ruby would end up laughing too hard to be scared. I would decide I was terrified of chairs and, upon seeing a chair, run to hide behind another chair, only to realize I was touching a scary chair! And so and so forth. By the end of it, Ruby would be explaining to me why things were not scary.
One of Ruby's favorite things to do for a long time was to get out her doctor's kit and give me a check-up. She would go through all the items in the order in which they were attached to the kit, starting with the blood pressure, and ending with the shot. Every time we play that I game and try and hide from the shot. She will say to me "Oh Dad, it's not as bad as that!" and give me the shot, at which point I will say "Waaah, waaaahhhh!" and she will laugh. Then when I give her the shot she just smiles and says, "See? It doesn't hurt!" Then, when we went in for her 3 year check-up at the real doctor, she had to get a shot. I went right back into game mode and told her it would really hurt and she would say "Waaah, waaaahhhh!" and she just laughed. The doctor came, gave her the shot, and smiled the whole way through.
Maybe she will grow up thinking I am a big wimp. Actually, that is pretty accurate, so nevermind. But my point is, that if I can spare her some fear, and if I can show her that the world is not a scary place, but an exciting place filled with challenges instead of obstacles, that I am happy to play scared on her behalf. And parents, this trick also works with eating scary vegetables too. You're welcome.
Things like anger, frustration, or jealousy are not that hard to deal with because they can usually be explained away in a way that makes sense, at least to my children. "Well, yes that boy has a balloon and you don't, but you have an ice cream and he doesn't, and besides you have a balloon at home." Problem (usually) solved. But fear is a tricky emotion to deal with, because fear is often irrational.
When people make decision based on fear, the outcome is almost never what they were hoping for. They lose sight of the big picture and only focus on very selfish "here and now" factors. But try and explaining that to a three year old! I found that my general method of explaining things was not working with Ruby when she was afraid of something. So I came up with a new plan.
Whenever Ruby was afraid of something, I would pretend to be even more afraid of it. In fact, I would take it to such extremes as to be afraid of nearly everything around me. Generally this produced hilarious results and Ruby would end up laughing too hard to be scared. I would decide I was terrified of chairs and, upon seeing a chair, run to hide behind another chair, only to realize I was touching a scary chair! And so and so forth. By the end of it, Ruby would be explaining to me why things were not scary.
One of Ruby's favorite things to do for a long time was to get out her doctor's kit and give me a check-up. She would go through all the items in the order in which they were attached to the kit, starting with the blood pressure, and ending with the shot. Every time we play that I game and try and hide from the shot. She will say to me "Oh Dad, it's not as bad as that!" and give me the shot, at which point I will say "Waaah, waaaahhhh!" and she will laugh. Then when I give her the shot she just smiles and says, "See? It doesn't hurt!" Then, when we went in for her 3 year check-up at the real doctor, she had to get a shot. I went right back into game mode and told her it would really hurt and she would say "Waaah, waaaahhhh!" and she just laughed. The doctor came, gave her the shot, and smiled the whole way through.
Maybe she will grow up thinking I am a big wimp. Actually, that is pretty accurate, so nevermind. But my point is, that if I can spare her some fear, and if I can show her that the world is not a scary place, but an exciting place filled with challenges instead of obstacles, that I am happy to play scared on her behalf. And parents, this trick also works with eating scary vegetables too. You're welcome.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
An Ode to Trying to Take a Shower
An Ode to Trying to Take a Shower
A is for Adam who's in the B bath.
C him D do it. E everyone laughs.
Now he F fumbles G groping for soap
H ha ha ha I J just meant a joke.
K is for kids who L like to intrude.
M m-m-might they N not know that's rude?
Ohhhhhhhhhh,
P is for please, Q quick leave me alone.
R Ruby S stop, T throw me a bone.
U leave, I'm V very W wet.
Xcept, Y not? I'm as clean as I'll get.
I guess I'll shower when they are eighteen.
Till then I'll be Z zero percent clean.
A is for Adam who's in the B bath.
C him D do it. E everyone laughs.
Now he F fumbles G groping for soap
H ha ha ha I J just meant a joke.
K is for kids who L like to intrude.
M m-m-might they N not know that's rude?
Ohhhhhhhhhh,
P is for please, Q quick leave me alone.
R Ruby S stop, T throw me a bone.
U leave, I'm V very W wet.
Xcept, Y not? I'm as clean as I'll get.
I guess I'll shower when they are eighteen.
Till then I'll be Z zero percent clean.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Due Date
Last night my mother volunteered to take the kids for the night so Simone and I could go out to the movies, and then come home and sleep through the night without interruption. I had just flown in from New York, and it was a little sad to see the kids again and then say goodbye right away, but hey, uninterrupted sleep! We had dinner at my Mom's circus house and then headed out to the movie theater.
There were a lot of good choices, but I had already seen the Owls of Ga'Hool and Megamind, so we settled on a grown-up movie. We went to see Due Date. SPOILER ALERT: I am now going to describe my general feelings about the film "Due Date" and, while I will not use a lot of specifics, if you don't wish to know anything at all about the overall nature of the film, you should stop reading right now and go out and see Megamind, which was fantastic.
Due Date was an okay movie. It was funny, very funny, at times, but not as spectacular as I had hoped, given how much I had enjoyed The Hangover. There were moments when I was laughing out loud, but it sometimes veered too far into territory that I will call "Guy Gets Repeatedly Crapped On" territory. For some reason, I do not enjoy movies where the main character meets up with some weirdo who repeatedly ruins their life for the whole movie in supposedly hilarious ways and then at the end they are all friends. It's funny for a few minutes, sure, but I always just end up feeling bad for the guy, and furious hatred for the weirdo. Whenever the movie comes to it's "Oh, now I understand why you are so weird, so I like you," moment, I cannot forgive the weirdo. This is why I did not enjoy films like "The Cable Guy," "You, Me and Dupree," and much of "Dinner for Schmucks."
Actually, I liked "Dinner for Schmucks" okay, and I liked "Due Date" okay, and here's why: About halfway through "Due Date" the tables turn and Robert Downey Jr. starts doing mean things to Zach Galifianakis as well. I have no problem with a movie where two people are being mean to each other and then make up at the end, because hey, sometimes people are mean to each other and then make up. As long as both of them have done something horrible, my senses of cinematic right and wrong are satisfied. I can even stand for someone to do one terrible thing to someone and then try and make up for it, because that's life, isn't it? But for one guy to repeatedly crap all over and destroy another guy's life for 90 minutes and then just get forgiven at the end? Ludicrous.
I know that maybe I should be more forgiving, but if some stranger cost me my house, my job, my girlfriend, my friends, and my family, I would not hug it out at the end. I would punch them in the teeth. I don't care how goofy/stupid/adorable they are. That scenario is not "Due Date" specific, but that's how films of this type usually go. For me, "Due Date" redeemed itself and became a movie that I do not hate because both characters had some issues, but it really wasn't as hysterical as I wanted it to be.
I guess if I could go back in time, I would probably buy a bunch of copies of Action Comics #1 and seal them up perfectly, buried in a box with recent winning lottery numbers written on a note beside them. And also on the note, I would tell myself that "Due Date" might be a rental, but still worth seeing.
There were a lot of good choices, but I had already seen the Owls of Ga'Hool and Megamind, so we settled on a grown-up movie. We went to see Due Date. SPOILER ALERT: I am now going to describe my general feelings about the film "Due Date" and, while I will not use a lot of specifics, if you don't wish to know anything at all about the overall nature of the film, you should stop reading right now and go out and see Megamind, which was fantastic.
Due Date was an okay movie. It was funny, very funny, at times, but not as spectacular as I had hoped, given how much I had enjoyed The Hangover. There were moments when I was laughing out loud, but it sometimes veered too far into territory that I will call "Guy Gets Repeatedly Crapped On" territory. For some reason, I do not enjoy movies where the main character meets up with some weirdo who repeatedly ruins their life for the whole movie in supposedly hilarious ways and then at the end they are all friends. It's funny for a few minutes, sure, but I always just end up feeling bad for the guy, and furious hatred for the weirdo. Whenever the movie comes to it's "Oh, now I understand why you are so weird, so I like you," moment, I cannot forgive the weirdo. This is why I did not enjoy films like "The Cable Guy," "You, Me and Dupree," and much of "Dinner for Schmucks."
Actually, I liked "Dinner for Schmucks" okay, and I liked "Due Date" okay, and here's why: About halfway through "Due Date" the tables turn and Robert Downey Jr. starts doing mean things to Zach Galifianakis as well. I have no problem with a movie where two people are being mean to each other and then make up at the end, because hey, sometimes people are mean to each other and then make up. As long as both of them have done something horrible, my senses of cinematic right and wrong are satisfied. I can even stand for someone to do one terrible thing to someone and then try and make up for it, because that's life, isn't it? But for one guy to repeatedly crap all over and destroy another guy's life for 90 minutes and then just get forgiven at the end? Ludicrous.
I know that maybe I should be more forgiving, but if some stranger cost me my house, my job, my girlfriend, my friends, and my family, I would not hug it out at the end. I would punch them in the teeth. I don't care how goofy/stupid/adorable they are. That scenario is not "Due Date" specific, but that's how films of this type usually go. For me, "Due Date" redeemed itself and became a movie that I do not hate because both characters had some issues, but it really wasn't as hysterical as I wanted it to be.
I guess if I could go back in time, I would probably buy a bunch of copies of Action Comics #1 and seal them up perfectly, buried in a box with recent winning lottery numbers written on a note beside them. And also on the note, I would tell myself that "Due Date" might be a rental, but still worth seeing.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Recording My First Commercial
Saturday night, when I walked out of the theater after seeing "Avenue Q," I had a message on my phone. It was from one of my colleagues at City Opera telling me to call him immediately. The message was an hour old, but I called back as I walked through Times Square. My friend asked me if I wanted to make some good money for a little bit of work. Of course that sounded horrible, but since he was a friend I said I would try and make it work.
I dug through my coat for a pen and scribbled down a date, a time, a name, and a phone number on my "Avenue Q" program as I knelt in the middle of the Times Square sidewalk, to the annoyance of the other pedestrians. I was told to call the number in the morning and we could work out the details then. All I knew was that it was a new commercial for J.G. Wentworth and they needed a tenor.
A quick trip to youtube when I got home revealed this ad, so I had some idea of what I was in for. I called in the morning and they asked me to come in Tuesday. I mentioned that I was supposed to be flying to Vermont, and they very kindly switched my time to Monday so I could still go home for a few days. I had no idea what to expect, but I was excited!
On Monday I took a bus out to New Jersey and walked into the voice-over studio ready to go. The actors had already filmed their scenes and it was my job to sing over them, making sure my voice matched what their lips were saying. Luckily the actors had done a great job of over-pronouncing their lines and it was pretty easy to match up the sound to the video. We did a few takes of every line to be sure that at least one would be great, and sometimes I even had to sing over myself, as I played three different characters in the commercial and sometimes they all sang together. My characters were: guy in the shower, mechanic, and new dad at the hospital. I tried to change my voice a little for each one, although it's sometimes hard to do that when you are trying to also sing well.
The whole thing took about an hour and when it was done I was dropped off at the bus station again for my trip back to the city. They told me the commercial could start airing in as little as two or three weeks, and when it does, and I can find it online, I will certainly let you know. Until then, I'll just blog about other stuff.
I dug through my coat for a pen and scribbled down a date, a time, a name, and a phone number on my "Avenue Q" program as I knelt in the middle of the Times Square sidewalk, to the annoyance of the other pedestrians. I was told to call the number in the morning and we could work out the details then. All I knew was that it was a new commercial for J.G. Wentworth and they needed a tenor.
A quick trip to youtube when I got home revealed this ad, so I had some idea of what I was in for. I called in the morning and they asked me to come in Tuesday. I mentioned that I was supposed to be flying to Vermont, and they very kindly switched my time to Monday so I could still go home for a few days. I had no idea what to expect, but I was excited!
On Monday I took a bus out to New Jersey and walked into the voice-over studio ready to go. The actors had already filmed their scenes and it was my job to sing over them, making sure my voice matched what their lips were saying. Luckily the actors had done a great job of over-pronouncing their lines and it was pretty easy to match up the sound to the video. We did a few takes of every line to be sure that at least one would be great, and sometimes I even had to sing over myself, as I played three different characters in the commercial and sometimes they all sang together. My characters were: guy in the shower, mechanic, and new dad at the hospital. I tried to change my voice a little for each one, although it's sometimes hard to do that when you are trying to also sing well.
The whole thing took about an hour and when it was done I was dropped off at the bus station again for my trip back to the city. They told me the commercial could start airing in as little as two or three weeks, and when it does, and I can find it online, I will certainly let you know. Until then, I'll just blog about other stuff.
Monday, November 8, 2010
TeaHarmony
The LGBT community has been in the news a lot lately, with the "It Gets Better" campaign and the ballot initiatives, but we haven't heard as much from the LGBTea community...until now. Many of you will probably say that you don't know anyone who is LGBTea. Some of you will even claim not to know what it stands for (Ladies Gettin' Busy with Tea). But it is time for the excuses to stop. In 2010 America, women should be allowed to show their love for tea openly. To that end, my good friend Kirsten has created a powerful video, showing how beautiful a love for tea can be.
You can view that video here. Go ahead. View it. I'll wait. You see, the important thing about this video, is that not only does it shine a light on the historically ignored teamosexuals, but it is also Kirsten's chance to find out more about the rich cultural history of her new partner, Oolong. This video is part of a contest in which the winner will receive an actual internship working with tea. They will travel the world to where the tea is grown and harvested. The secrets of tea will be revealed to them!
A worthy cause, I think we can all agree. And, dear friends, it won't cost you a dollar to help this oppressed minority. All you need do is watch the video. Possibly leave a warm and supportive comment. Maybe click the "like" button to show your support of this brave video. Perhaps you are a little tea-curious yourself, but have never felt that there was anyone who would understand. Well, the time for despair is over! Watch this video! Share this video with your friends! Make Kirsten's dreams come true, and maybe your own in the process. Thank you Kirsten, and thank you all for offering your support. Together, we can make a difference!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZStvqgsU-s
You can view that video here. Go ahead. View it. I'll wait. You see, the important thing about this video, is that not only does it shine a light on the historically ignored teamosexuals, but it is also Kirsten's chance to find out more about the rich cultural history of her new partner, Oolong. This video is part of a contest in which the winner will receive an actual internship working with tea. They will travel the world to where the tea is grown and harvested. The secrets of tea will be revealed to them!
A worthy cause, I think we can all agree. And, dear friends, it won't cost you a dollar to help this oppressed minority. All you need do is watch the video. Possibly leave a warm and supportive comment. Maybe click the "like" button to show your support of this brave video. Perhaps you are a little tea-curious yourself, but have never felt that there was anyone who would understand. Well, the time for despair is over! Watch this video! Share this video with your friends! Make Kirsten's dreams come true, and maybe your own in the process. Thank you Kirsten, and thank you all for offering your support. Together, we can make a difference!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZStvqgsU-s
Sunday, November 7, 2010
My Sex Life
I am writing this to let you all know, in no uncertain terms, that I am not allowed to blog about my sex life. Instead, I will tell you all about the lovely brunch I had yesterday. What's that? You feel cheated? Well, would you still feel cheated if I told you it was a SEXY brunch? See, that's more exciting, right? I mean, I don't want to say how sexy it was, but all three ladies at the table had tasted my bacon by the end of the meal, if you know what I mean. And I mean that I could not finish all of my omelette and bacon because there was a lot of it, so my friends helped me out. But that is a story for a less sexy blog.
My friend Eric is town for the weekend visiting me, and we decided to have brunch with our friend Claire. Somehow our friend Astrid got invited, which was super exciting, as I have not seen her in almost two years, and then Claire invited our friend Grace to the brunch. Three ladies, one brunch? Now it was starting to get exciting.
When we arrived at the restaurant and sat down for our meals, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. And by "sexual tension" I mean "delicious cinnamon raisin bread." It was delightful. Soon after, it got very steamy in there, due to the coffees arriving and producing a lot of steam. I'm telling you, this was the sexiest brunch ever. The conversation quickly took a turn for the sexy, as we discussed such titillating items as what we had been up for the past few years, and if we were or were not enjoying our food.
Okay, okay, it was not really a sexy brunch. The sexiest thing that happened was Claire and Astrid showing us pictures of their slutty Halloween costumes, and Astrid's wasn't really that slutty, and I'm not allowed to blog about Claire's, so there isn't much to tell there. But I did have a very nice time, and after all, isn't that what sex is all about? Well, sex and just about everything else. Okay, nevermind.
My friend Eric is town for the weekend visiting me, and we decided to have brunch with our friend Claire. Somehow our friend Astrid got invited, which was super exciting, as I have not seen her in almost two years, and then Claire invited our friend Grace to the brunch. Three ladies, one brunch? Now it was starting to get exciting.
When we arrived at the restaurant and sat down for our meals, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. And by "sexual tension" I mean "delicious cinnamon raisin bread." It was delightful. Soon after, it got very steamy in there, due to the coffees arriving and producing a lot of steam. I'm telling you, this was the sexiest brunch ever. The conversation quickly took a turn for the sexy, as we discussed such titillating items as what we had been up for the past few years, and if we were or were not enjoying our food.
Okay, okay, it was not really a sexy brunch. The sexiest thing that happened was Claire and Astrid showing us pictures of their slutty Halloween costumes, and Astrid's wasn't really that slutty, and I'm not allowed to blog about Claire's, so there isn't much to tell there. But I did have a very nice time, and after all, isn't that what sex is all about? Well, sex and just about everything else. Okay, nevermind.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
The Food Trucks of New York - Part 7
Oh Lord, how many food trucks can there possibly be? Will this guy ever write about something that is not about food or trucks (or pants)? Yes, I hear you people, but we are so close! The home stretch! As of this writing, I have only three trucks left to find on my list! Hooray! So let's get to it.
20) Red Hook Trucks
This was my farthest venture out so far. Way out in Brooklyn at the Red Hook Ball Fields there are four or five food trucks. I only ate at one of them, and I don't know if they are related or not, but they were one item on the list, so I ate one item: a huarache. What is a huarache? Well, look at the picture. It is kind of like the fried taco trough, except less fried. It definitely was humongous, and delicious. I was very happy with my lunch, and also happy that I had made it out there on the last day of their season. I almost missed this one! Who knew that food trucks were seasonal?
I hopped a train back to Manhattan, and then hopped a flight to South Hero, Vermont, where, as far as I could tell, there were no food trucks. This was a dark time in food truck hunt history. Luckily for you lucky readers, I am now back in New York, where I quickly found one of the trucks that had eluded me five times prior.
21) The Steak Truck
Man, that Steak Truck is never there! I have looked for it so many times! But finally, success! I got a cheesesteak, and it was wonderful. But you don't have to take my word for it. I was late for a voice lesson, so I jumped in a cab with my sandwich, and it was all the cab driver could talk about the whole ride.
Cab Driver: "That looks like a good sandwich."
Me: "Yes, it's very good."
CD: "Where did you get it?"
Me: "The Steak Truck."
CD: :You got from a truck?!"
Me: "Yes."
CD: So what, it was like $7, or $8?"
Me: "No, it was $4."
CD: "WHAT!? $4?! You got that delicious sandwich from a truck for $4?"
Me: "Yes."
CD: "You must be in finance."
The cab driver and I went on to discuss the finer points of Five Guys and Nick's Burgers and Pizza, and after he dropped me off he told me what a pleasure it was to chat with me, and again how good my sandwich looked. I didn't know if he just wanted a bite of it or what, but he was not getting a bite. It was just too yummy, and also I don't share food. Although I am going to brunch with my friend Claire today, so I'm sure she will manage to steal SOMEthing off of my plate. *shakes fist at Claire*
22) Patacon Pisao
After the Steak Truck and my voice lesson, I hung around to wait for my friend Eric to arrive. He's spending the weekend with me, coming to see the opera, going to brunch, and generally having fun. His bus arrived at 11 pm and so, for extra fun, I decided we would go up to Washington Heights to find another exciting food truck. I had been to this truck once before, but it was closed. Silly me, I misread the hours. The internet clearly states that it is open from 7-6, and I ASSUMED, like an idiot, that it meant 7 am to 6 pm. Oh no. This truck is only open in the middle of the night, in a neighborhood that is....a little far from me. So you can see why I waited for Eric to come and be my bodyguard.
Sadly, the subway trains do not enjoy moving in a timely manner at midnight apparently, so it took us a while and several transfers to get there. Luckily, once we got there we got to enjoy a very nice patacone, which is meats and cheeses and vegetables inside of two fried plantains.
It was good, but not three hours in the middle of the night good. We got home at 3 am. And now we have to go have brunch. I guess I should shower. I must sign off, but take heart good people, there can only be one more food truck blog! Soon our exciting journey will be ended, but until then, stay hungry!
20) Red Hook Trucks
This was my farthest venture out so far. Way out in Brooklyn at the Red Hook Ball Fields there are four or five food trucks. I only ate at one of them, and I don't know if they are related or not, but they were one item on the list, so I ate one item: a huarache. What is a huarache? Well, look at the picture. It is kind of like the fried taco trough, except less fried. It definitely was humongous, and delicious. I was very happy with my lunch, and also happy that I had made it out there on the last day of their season. I almost missed this one! Who knew that food trucks were seasonal?
I hopped a train back to Manhattan, and then hopped a flight to South Hero, Vermont, where, as far as I could tell, there were no food trucks. This was a dark time in food truck hunt history. Luckily for you lucky readers, I am now back in New York, where I quickly found one of the trucks that had eluded me five times prior.
21) The Steak Truck
Man, that Steak Truck is never there! I have looked for it so many times! But finally, success! I got a cheesesteak, and it was wonderful. But you don't have to take my word for it. I was late for a voice lesson, so I jumped in a cab with my sandwich, and it was all the cab driver could talk about the whole ride.
Cab Driver: "That looks like a good sandwich."
Me: "Yes, it's very good."
CD: "Where did you get it?"
Me: "The Steak Truck."
CD: :You got from a truck?!"
Me: "Yes."
CD: So what, it was like $7, or $8?"
Me: "No, it was $4."
CD: "WHAT!? $4?! You got that delicious sandwich from a truck for $4?"
Me: "Yes."
CD: "You must be in finance."
The cab driver and I went on to discuss the finer points of Five Guys and Nick's Burgers and Pizza, and after he dropped me off he told me what a pleasure it was to chat with me, and again how good my sandwich looked. I didn't know if he just wanted a bite of it or what, but he was not getting a bite. It was just too yummy, and also I don't share food. Although I am going to brunch with my friend Claire today, so I'm sure she will manage to steal SOMEthing off of my plate. *shakes fist at Claire*
22) Patacon Pisao
After the Steak Truck and my voice lesson, I hung around to wait for my friend Eric to arrive. He's spending the weekend with me, coming to see the opera, going to brunch, and generally having fun. His bus arrived at 11 pm and so, for extra fun, I decided we would go up to Washington Heights to find another exciting food truck. I had been to this truck once before, but it was closed. Silly me, I misread the hours. The internet clearly states that it is open from 7-6, and I ASSUMED, like an idiot, that it meant 7 am to 6 pm. Oh no. This truck is only open in the middle of the night, in a neighborhood that is....a little far from me. So you can see why I waited for Eric to come and be my bodyguard.
Sadly, the subway trains do not enjoy moving in a timely manner at midnight apparently, so it took us a while and several transfers to get there. Luckily, once we got there we got to enjoy a very nice patacone, which is meats and cheeses and vegetables inside of two fried plantains.
It was good, but not three hours in the middle of the night good. We got home at 3 am. And now we have to go have brunch. I guess I should shower. I must sign off, but take heart good people, there can only be one more food truck blog! Soon our exciting journey will be ended, but until then, stay hungry!
The Food Trucks of New York - Part 1
The Food Trucks of New York - Part 2
The Food Trucks of New York - Part 3
The Food Trucks of New York - Part 4
The Food Trucks of New York - Part 5
The Food Trucks of New York - Part 6
Friday, November 5, 2010
More Baby Names for the Evil or Stupid
A short time ago I wrote a post in which I gave suggestions to evil or stupid people in the area of baby names. Dear, dear readers, I regret to inform you that I have given you only half of the truth. It has come to my attention that there are several categories of names that are quite evil or stupid that had simply slipped my mind. Please accept my sincere apologies, and I hope that with these new ideas, you will be able to scar your child for life the way that you always wanted to. And if, for some reason, you have named your children these things and are still of the belief that you are neither evil nor stupid, well, I'm just the messenger here. And I think we all know what NOT to do to messengers, right? Right....?
If you need a refresher course on the first five ways to poorly name your children they can be found here.
6) Giving Your Child's Name Random Apostrophes
This is just plain evil. There are only two reasons that a name needs an apostrophe. First, it is in place of other letters, as in the popular name "The O'Reilly Factor." This is, of course, an abbreviated form of the full name "The Oh, I Guess Nothing Else Is On, I'll Watch Reilly Factor." The other reason is to indicate a glottal stop, as in the popular baby name T'Pau, although this is a very ethnic name, so you probably shouldn't name your child T'Pau unless you are at least 50% Vulcan. But even if you do have a name with a legitimate apostrophe, you probably shouldn't use it. My wife has an apostrophe in her last name, and she's pretty much given up on anyone pronouncing it correctly. And filling out forms and applications for things? Forget about it! Rare is the computer program that will take an apostrophe in the name field, so we often just leave it out. Adding in extra punctuation is just evil. Some good examples of names of this type are "Sha'niqua," "Shani'qua," and "Sha'ni'qua."
7) Naming Your Children After the Place in Which They Were Conceived
First of all, ew! No kid wants to think about being conceived. Most of us go through life hoping that our parents never actually had sex at all and we are either clones or created by the Holy Spirit. The last thing young "Brooklyn" needs to find out is that they were named after a place that their gross old parents did it. I get it, some places really are names, so maybe you think you can sneak it through, but don't! It will come out eventually, so if you are really set on the name "Virginia," for freak's sake, do not have sex in that state! Other names in this category include "Denver," "Lincoln," "Chrysler," and "Kitchen Table."
8) Giving Your Child an Ethnic Name With an "American" Spelling
This terrifying trend was only recently brought to my attention. Look, I know when people were coming though Ellis Island, a lot of names got Americanized because people could not spell or hear correctly, and they were all super racist. Are you super racist? Can you spell? Can you hear correctly? Then why would you name your daughter Waneeta? So she will fit in? Come on now. There are not a lot of Hoolios running around. It doesn't make them fit in, it just makes them even weirder. If you want your kid to fit in, name them "Bill" or "Samantha." There are almost unlimited bad possibilities in this category, some of which are "Paydroe," Fronswah," and "Nuh-Click-sow."
9) Naming Your Child a Phrase or Sentence
People, please be careful with your last names. Much the way that if one's last name is "Lincoln," one should not name their son "Abraham," if one's last name is "Dover," one should not name their son "Ben." Yes, it's funny on The Simpsons, but think about the poor, real-life "Amanda Huggenkiss"s. Their whole lives are walking punchlines. I am quite happy with the name "Adam," but I would be much less happy if my last name were "Upp." Think of the children! And almost making a phrase to be cute is even worse. If your last name is "Tastic" do not name your daughter "Fran." Other merciless names of this kind are "Sandy Beach," "Billy Clubb," "Ima Hoar," "Candy Cain," and "Walter Nate Universe."
10) Naming Your Child Something Sexually Explicit
You know, words change meanings over time. I know this. You know this. We both know Dick was once a very popular and socially acceptable boy's name. But now it means penis. As much as you try and tell yourself that it is also a name, I know you are thinking of a penis when you say it. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that "Dick" is not the name of your son, it is the name of what you are for giving your son that name. Yes, yes, it's a shame. Some perfectly good names are ruined now. But what's done is done. And if you come from another culture, but are planning on staying and living in an English speaking area, just do some research. If I moved to Nepal and found out that "Fred" meant blow job, I would probably not name my son Fred if I planned to raise my son in Nepal. Therefore, names like Asram, and Shitij might not be the best idea here. Other names to avoid are "Gaye," "BJ," "Hyman," and "Vas Deferens."
Hey, that reminds me, we had a substitute teacher when I was growing up named Gaye Butts. I could not make this up. And the thing was, it was her MARRIED name. She took her husband's last name and became Gaye Butts. Ladies - I'm all for tradition, but there are times when you should keep your last name. But that's a post for another time.
If you need a refresher course on the first five ways to poorly name your children they can be found here.
6) Giving Your Child's Name Random Apostrophes
This is just plain evil. There are only two reasons that a name needs an apostrophe. First, it is in place of other letters, as in the popular name "The O'Reilly Factor." This is, of course, an abbreviated form of the full name "The Oh, I Guess Nothing Else Is On, I'll Watch Reilly Factor." The other reason is to indicate a glottal stop, as in the popular baby name T'Pau, although this is a very ethnic name, so you probably shouldn't name your child T'Pau unless you are at least 50% Vulcan. But even if you do have a name with a legitimate apostrophe, you probably shouldn't use it. My wife has an apostrophe in her last name, and she's pretty much given up on anyone pronouncing it correctly. And filling out forms and applications for things? Forget about it! Rare is the computer program that will take an apostrophe in the name field, so we often just leave it out. Adding in extra punctuation is just evil. Some good examples of names of this type are "Sha'niqua," "Shani'qua," and "Sha'ni'qua."
7) Naming Your Children After the Place in Which They Were Conceived
First of all, ew! No kid wants to think about being conceived. Most of us go through life hoping that our parents never actually had sex at all and we are either clones or created by the Holy Spirit. The last thing young "Brooklyn" needs to find out is that they were named after a place that their gross old parents did it. I get it, some places really are names, so maybe you think you can sneak it through, but don't! It will come out eventually, so if you are really set on the name "Virginia," for freak's sake, do not have sex in that state! Other names in this category include "Denver," "Lincoln," "Chrysler," and "Kitchen Table."
8) Giving Your Child an Ethnic Name With an "American" Spelling
This terrifying trend was only recently brought to my attention. Look, I know when people were coming though Ellis Island, a lot of names got Americanized because people could not spell or hear correctly, and they were all super racist. Are you super racist? Can you spell? Can you hear correctly? Then why would you name your daughter Waneeta? So she will fit in? Come on now. There are not a lot of Hoolios running around. It doesn't make them fit in, it just makes them even weirder. If you want your kid to fit in, name them "Bill" or "Samantha." There are almost unlimited bad possibilities in this category, some of which are "Paydroe," Fronswah," and "Nuh-Click-sow."
9) Naming Your Child a Phrase or Sentence
People, please be careful with your last names. Much the way that if one's last name is "Lincoln," one should not name their son "Abraham," if one's last name is "Dover," one should not name their son "Ben." Yes, it's funny on The Simpsons, but think about the poor, real-life "Amanda Huggenkiss"s. Their whole lives are walking punchlines. I am quite happy with the name "Adam," but I would be much less happy if my last name were "Upp." Think of the children! And almost making a phrase to be cute is even worse. If your last name is "Tastic" do not name your daughter "Fran." Other merciless names of this kind are "Sandy Beach," "Billy Clubb," "Ima Hoar," "Candy Cain," and "Walter Nate Universe."
10) Naming Your Child Something Sexually Explicit
You know, words change meanings over time. I know this. You know this. We both know Dick was once a very popular and socially acceptable boy's name. But now it means penis. As much as you try and tell yourself that it is also a name, I know you are thinking of a penis when you say it. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that "Dick" is not the name of your son, it is the name of what you are for giving your son that name. Yes, yes, it's a shame. Some perfectly good names are ruined now. But what's done is done. And if you come from another culture, but are planning on staying and living in an English speaking area, just do some research. If I moved to Nepal and found out that "Fred" meant blow job, I would probably not name my son Fred if I planned to raise my son in Nepal. Therefore, names like Asram, and Shitij might not be the best idea here. Other names to avoid are "Gaye," "BJ," "Hyman," and "Vas Deferens."
Hey, that reminds me, we had a substitute teacher when I was growing up named Gaye Butts. I could not make this up. And the thing was, it was her MARRIED name. She took her husband's last name and became Gaye Butts. Ladies - I'm all for tradition, but there are times when you should keep your last name. But that's a post for another time.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Home on the Strange
After being in New York for over five weeks, I finally went home on Halloween. The only trouble was, I had never been there before. While I was away, my family had moved from Baltimore City to South Hero, Vermont, on the Lake Champlain Islands to stay with my wife's sister. They had just bought a new place with a small apartment on the side, so it worked out perfectly. I helped pack, I helped load the truck, but I had never actually been to the new place, so it was a little odd.
I flew into Burlington, which I had not flown into in probably ten years. If I flew to Vermont from Baltimore, I took Southwest into Albany and someone picked me up, but usually we just drove. Jet Blue, however, does offer cheap tickets from JFK to Burlington, so I arrived in an airport that looked nothing like it did ten years ago. They had built a new terminal, everything had been renovated, and it didn't feel the same to me. Luckily my family was there to greet me, and that felt great.
We drove through South Burlington, where I grew up, and much of it was still familiar. We stopped at Zachary's for pizza, and suddenly I felt like I belonged. This was where I was from. This town had a feeling of home in it somewhere. But then we got back on the road and started driving north. Just over twenty miles up and across the land bridge we came to our new house.
It was small. Much smaller than I had originally envisioned. Of course it was only temporary until we could find our own place, but for now the walls were lined with piles of boxes, some half-opened and rooted through, some tipped over. There was no place to put anything, so it was all out. And this was only half our stuff! The other half had been moved to my sister's basement for storage. I did not recognize this place. I recognized the TV, and shelves of DVDs. I recognized our dishes and our couch. Yes, there were things here that I knew, but, like a dream, a little off, and out of place.
As I settled in with my family, I came to realize that not only was the place different, but along with change of location came change of routine. The daily habits were slightly different. I felt lost and confused. None of these new things were bad, the house suited our needs very well, and the routines suited the house, it was just that I hadn't been there to help form them. It was all foreign to me. I felt like a stranger in my own home.
At this point I began to wonder why I ever thought being an opera singer was such a great idea. I was missing things! Edward can get up on all fours now! Soon he will be crawling. Ruby drew all over her wall in crayon! I didn't get to yell at her. Suddenly the glamorous life of a traveling musician didn't seem so appealing to me. I wanted to stay with my family.
Days progressed and I gradually became more comfortable in the new environment, as one is wont to do. On Tuesday, we all drove into town to go to Costco. We picked up pictures from the photo counter, we looked at all the Christmas toys that are already on display, we ate pizza and sausages, and we generally had a fun time. And it felt more like home at Costco than it had felt anywhere else that trip. We all slipped right back into our old ways of being, having cheap lunch at Costco. We might as well have been in Baltimore again. It was wonderful.
So what do I take away from all this? Am I just a city person now, uncomfortable out in the country and only truly happy at giant warehouse locations? Do I just need more time to adjust? Should I get rid of most of my stuff? Probably. But the worst part about it was, just when I was starting to feel at home in my new home, I got on another plane headed back to New York.
I flew into Burlington, which I had not flown into in probably ten years. If I flew to Vermont from Baltimore, I took Southwest into Albany and someone picked me up, but usually we just drove. Jet Blue, however, does offer cheap tickets from JFK to Burlington, so I arrived in an airport that looked nothing like it did ten years ago. They had built a new terminal, everything had been renovated, and it didn't feel the same to me. Luckily my family was there to greet me, and that felt great.
We drove through South Burlington, where I grew up, and much of it was still familiar. We stopped at Zachary's for pizza, and suddenly I felt like I belonged. This was where I was from. This town had a feeling of home in it somewhere. But then we got back on the road and started driving north. Just over twenty miles up and across the land bridge we came to our new house.
It was small. Much smaller than I had originally envisioned. Of course it was only temporary until we could find our own place, but for now the walls were lined with piles of boxes, some half-opened and rooted through, some tipped over. There was no place to put anything, so it was all out. And this was only half our stuff! The other half had been moved to my sister's basement for storage. I did not recognize this place. I recognized the TV, and shelves of DVDs. I recognized our dishes and our couch. Yes, there were things here that I knew, but, like a dream, a little off, and out of place.
As I settled in with my family, I came to realize that not only was the place different, but along with change of location came change of routine. The daily habits were slightly different. I felt lost and confused. None of these new things were bad, the house suited our needs very well, and the routines suited the house, it was just that I hadn't been there to help form them. It was all foreign to me. I felt like a stranger in my own home.
At this point I began to wonder why I ever thought being an opera singer was such a great idea. I was missing things! Edward can get up on all fours now! Soon he will be crawling. Ruby drew all over her wall in crayon! I didn't get to yell at her. Suddenly the glamorous life of a traveling musician didn't seem so appealing to me. I wanted to stay with my family.
Days progressed and I gradually became more comfortable in the new environment, as one is wont to do. On Tuesday, we all drove into town to go to Costco. We picked up pictures from the photo counter, we looked at all the Christmas toys that are already on display, we ate pizza and sausages, and we generally had a fun time. And it felt more like home at Costco than it had felt anywhere else that trip. We all slipped right back into our old ways of being, having cheap lunch at Costco. We might as well have been in Baltimore again. It was wonderful.
So what do I take away from all this? Am I just a city person now, uncomfortable out in the country and only truly happy at giant warehouse locations? Do I just need more time to adjust? Should I get rid of most of my stuff? Probably. But the worst part about it was, just when I was starting to feel at home in my new home, I got on another plane headed back to New York.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)