There is nothing quite like the thrill and terror of opening night. That day when all of the hard work you have been putting in for weeks, and sometimes months, finally comes to fruition. That day when the general public will at last have the chance to see all the wonderful things that you have to offer. That day when you mumble backstage that if you had even had one more rehearsal, it could have been perfect, but now you are out of time. Opening night!
From the moment you step onto the stage, to the final bows, you will finally have the chance to see how everything works in front of a live audience. All of the flaws and kinks in your production will be exposed, as well as all of the triumphs. No more wondering "Will they actually laugh at that cheesy joke?" or "Can they see me in the audience if I have to quickly change pants from here?" It will quickly become very clear what works and what doesn't, and which lucky folks get to see your underwear. On a side note, always wear underwear.
One of the most thrilling parts of opening night is often the last minute changes that come after the final dress rehearsal. There is nothing like going on stage and doing something different for the very first time in front of hundreds (or thousands) or people. You see, all that stuff I was saying earlier about finding out what works is technically supposed to happen during dress rehearsals, but the thing is, it is impossible for that to happen, because if you discover that something does not work during the final dress, and you change it, then when are you supposed to rehearse it? The answer: Opening Night!
Another fun part of opening night, which I sadly cannot enjoy in this particular run that I am involved in now, is when someone in the cast still hasn't quite learned their whole part yet, and so you have the thrill of wondering if they are going to say their line or not, or what exactly might come out of their mouth at any given time. Unfortunately, everyone in my current cast seems to have memorized their parts in advance, and so I will not have the adrenaline rush of standing on stage while someone runs off in the wrong direction yelling someone else's line during an inappropriate scene.
Tonight, I will go on stage, hopefully at the right time, and sing and speak as best as I can, and hope that people like what I am doing. We've run the show what seems like a bazillion times, though it's probably only a dozen or two, and it's finally time to expose ourselves, artistically speaking. Things may go well, or they may go horribly wrong, but that is the joy of live theater. There is a lot of conventional wisdom around concerning when to see shows, although it often does not apply to operas with a only a handful of performances. I will give it to you anyway. They say if you want to see a stale performance by bored performers, go to one of the last couple of performances, and if you want to see a polished and well put together performance, go sometime during the middle of the run. But if you want to see all of the excitement, fear, and possibility of set pieces crashing down and props flying into the audience, then you have no choice. Opening night!
Search Tenor Dad
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Awareness of Poop
I am currently in Florida spending my time as "Tenor," and so there have not been a lot of "Dad" posts in recent weeks. I am, however, excited to share some wonderful news with you. Edward has taken his first step towards the most urgent and important of parenting goals: potty training.
THE ROAD TO POTTY TRAINING: STEP 1 - AWARENESS OF POOP
The first step to solving a problem is, of course, realizing that you have a problem, and we have made a breakthrough! Apparently, the other day, Edward not only pooped in his diaper, but then walked over to my mother-in-law, pointed at his diaper, and then attempted to remove it himself. This was a terrible idea on his part, but still an important milestone.
If he knows that he has pooped, and that steps must be taken post-pooping, then he is one step closer to recognizing pre-pooping signs, and one step closer to modifying the post-pooping steps from "take off my own diaper and widly fling feces about the house" to "wipe butt, flush." I long for the day when this becomes a reality, as diapers are expensive and poop is gross.
Note to Future Edward: Do not be mad that I am discussing such things in public. We all were in diapers once and you have been, as a general rule, way less gross than your sister.
Note to Future Ruby: No, you are not gross. I have no idea where your brother heard that from. We both know he is the gross one.
And so we conclude today's missive, looking with renewed hope toward a future in which I have to touch less poop, and a future in which Edward becomes less and less like a baby and more and more like an independent person. Hmmmm. Actually, maybe I wouldn't mind changing a few more diapers after all.
THE ROAD TO POTTY TRAINING: STEP 1 - AWARENESS OF POOP
The first step to solving a problem is, of course, realizing that you have a problem, and we have made a breakthrough! Apparently, the other day, Edward not only pooped in his diaper, but then walked over to my mother-in-law, pointed at his diaper, and then attempted to remove it himself. This was a terrible idea on his part, but still an important milestone.
If he knows that he has pooped, and that steps must be taken post-pooping, then he is one step closer to recognizing pre-pooping signs, and one step closer to modifying the post-pooping steps from "take off my own diaper and widly fling feces about the house" to "wipe butt, flush." I long for the day when this becomes a reality, as diapers are expensive and poop is gross.
Note to Future Edward: Do not be mad that I am discussing such things in public. We all were in diapers once and you have been, as a general rule, way less gross than your sister.
Note to Future Ruby: No, you are not gross. I have no idea where your brother heard that from. We both know he is the gross one.
And so we conclude today's missive, looking with renewed hope toward a future in which I have to touch less poop, and a future in which Edward becomes less and less like a baby and more and more like an independent person. Hmmmm. Actually, maybe I wouldn't mind changing a few more diapers after all.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
In Disguise: A Video Tale of Die Fledermaus
When I did Rigoletto here in Florida last winter, I had a lot of free time on my hands, and so I created a video tribute to the character of Sparfucile, in the style of Bob Dylan. When I returned in the spring, I decided to do another video, since everybody seemed to enjoy the first one. For this Gianni Schicchi video I went disco, and it was a great success.
Now it seems that it is almost expected of me to make some sort of silly video for the show I am doing, but, since I enjoy it, I really don't mind. Here, in the style of Jimi Hendrix, is my video for Die Fledermaus, which I have entitled "In Disguise." I hope you enjoy it. And if you don't, well, that probably won't stop me from making another one.
Now it seems that it is almost expected of me to make some sort of silly video for the show I am doing, but, since I enjoy it, I really don't mind. Here, in the style of Jimi Hendrix, is my video for Die Fledermaus, which I have entitled "In Disguise." I hope you enjoy it. And if you don't, well, that probably won't stop me from making another one.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
How to Dance Like a Muppet
If you have ever had the pleasure of attending a wedding or other similar event that I am also participating in, then you have probably had the chance to check out my excellent dance moves. As anyone will tell you, what I lack in skill, I make up for in enthusiasm. I will happily try out any dance I ever seen, or even heard of, such as the macarena, the running man, the twist, the chicken dance, the funky chicken, and the chicken macarena.
Although the number of dances I pretend to know is quite large, in general one could describe my dance style as "muppety." This simply means that whenever I get out onto the dance floor, large numbers of people generally inform me that I look like a muppet. Obviously they are all jealous of my fine dancing ability, and so I thought it a kind and generous service to explain to the common folk how they too can dance like a muppet.
Now muppets are part puppet and part marionette, so the trick is to get just the right amount of each into your dance moves. To get the proper arm position, pretend that there is a string attached to each of your wrists. Extend your arms out and let your elbows and hands hang limp, but keep your wrists high. Now waggle your arms about wildly, taking great pains to ensure that each movement originate from your wrists.
Your legs should sort of just dangle there and give the appearance that they are being dragged about the floor, sometimes giving jolted kicks up into the air. This is difficult to accomplish, as you also need your legs to hold you up, so you will want to practice this as often as possible, preferably in a setting that simulates a wedding or a party with large numbers of people. Probably your place of business.
The tricky part of all of this is to remember that there is a hand shoved up your backside controlling your mouth. You don't want to get so limp and noodley that your whole torso becomes jelly. No, you will want a stiffer torso to contrast your flailing limbs. Once you have this going, the last part is the facial expression that completes the package. Open your mouth as wide as possible and bug your eyes out. Perfect. And are you doing the dance moves I taught you? Wonderful! You are now ready to attend any formal event that may require dancing.
The next time you are invited to a social gathering, you can take comfort in the fact that everyone will be impressed with your muppety moves. And remember, acting like a muppet is perfectly fine in many other non-dancing social gatherings, such as jury selection, the checkout line, and church. Good luck, have fun, and I'll see you on the dance floor!
Although the number of dances I pretend to know is quite large, in general one could describe my dance style as "muppety." This simply means that whenever I get out onto the dance floor, large numbers of people generally inform me that I look like a muppet. Obviously they are all jealous of my fine dancing ability, and so I thought it a kind and generous service to explain to the common folk how they too can dance like a muppet.
Now muppets are part puppet and part marionette, so the trick is to get just the right amount of each into your dance moves. To get the proper arm position, pretend that there is a string attached to each of your wrists. Extend your arms out and let your elbows and hands hang limp, but keep your wrists high. Now waggle your arms about wildly, taking great pains to ensure that each movement originate from your wrists.
Your legs should sort of just dangle there and give the appearance that they are being dragged about the floor, sometimes giving jolted kicks up into the air. This is difficult to accomplish, as you also need your legs to hold you up, so you will want to practice this as often as possible, preferably in a setting that simulates a wedding or a party with large numbers of people. Probably your place of business.
The tricky part of all of this is to remember that there is a hand shoved up your backside controlling your mouth. You don't want to get so limp and noodley that your whole torso becomes jelly. No, you will want a stiffer torso to contrast your flailing limbs. Once you have this going, the last part is the facial expression that completes the package. Open your mouth as wide as possible and bug your eyes out. Perfect. And are you doing the dance moves I taught you? Wonderful! You are now ready to attend any formal event that may require dancing.
The next time you are invited to a social gathering, you can take comfort in the fact that everyone will be impressed with your muppety moves. And remember, acting like a muppet is perfectly fine in many other non-dancing social gatherings, such as jury selection, the checkout line, and church. Good luck, have fun, and I'll see you on the dance floor!
Monday, September 26, 2011
Lithuanian Tree Cake
This weekend I had the distinct pleasure of attending the birthday party of one of my favorite people here in Florida, Richelle Mego. It was held at the local Lithuanian Club (every town has one, right?) and featured tons of Lithuanian food, cheeses, beers, and, most importantly, a Lithuanian tree cake.
Now, I know what you are saying. Why would you want to eat a cake made out of a tree? Well, you do have a point, but you should not judge odd customs from other countrys, Lithuanian or otherwise. And besides, this cake is not made out of trees (I don't think...), it just looks like a tree. And no, it does not look like a tree "Ace of Cakes" style. It actually looks like a tree because they cook the darn thing on a spit and as it turns they drip the batter onto it, giving it its tree-like form.
I'm sure your next question is, "Where can I get a tree cake?" and the answer is, you can't. They are from Lithuania. We had to have this one imported. But not from Lithuania, from Racine Bakery in Chicago, which is like Lithuania, but colder. I suppose your next question is, "What exactly does it look like?" Well, it looks like this:
"But wait!" you say. "If it was cooked on a spit, shouldn't the inside be hollow?!" And, of course, you are correct. The inside is totally hollow. You could dump some baking soda in there, pour in the vinegar, and watch as it becomes a Lithuanian volcano cake if you wanted. Don't believe me? Here is photographic evidence:
Ok, it is a little dark in there, but I swear, it's hollow! And now you want to know how it tasted? Well, I'm not going to give everything away! If you want to know how it tastes, attend some sort of Lithuanian celebration! I will say that it was very dense, and full of only things that are very bad for you.
The rest of the party was spent with me dancing wildly and generally crashing about, but that is thematically off topic, as this is a blog about cake. We'll get to the dancing tomorrow.
Now, I know what you are saying. Why would you want to eat a cake made out of a tree? Well, you do have a point, but you should not judge odd customs from other countrys, Lithuanian or otherwise. And besides, this cake is not made out of trees (I don't think...), it just looks like a tree. And no, it does not look like a tree "Ace of Cakes" style. It actually looks like a tree because they cook the darn thing on a spit and as it turns they drip the batter onto it, giving it its tree-like form.
I'm sure your next question is, "Where can I get a tree cake?" and the answer is, you can't. They are from Lithuania. We had to have this one imported. But not from Lithuania, from Racine Bakery in Chicago, which is like Lithuania, but colder. I suppose your next question is, "What exactly does it look like?" Well, it looks like this:
"But wait!" you say. "If it was cooked on a spit, shouldn't the inside be hollow?!" And, of course, you are correct. The inside is totally hollow. You could dump some baking soda in there, pour in the vinegar, and watch as it becomes a Lithuanian volcano cake if you wanted. Don't believe me? Here is photographic evidence:
Ok, it is a little dark in there, but I swear, it's hollow! And now you want to know how it tasted? Well, I'm not going to give everything away! If you want to know how it tastes, attend some sort of Lithuanian celebration! I will say that it was very dense, and full of only things that are very bad for you.
The rest of the party was spent with me dancing wildly and generally crashing about, but that is thematically off topic, as this is a blog about cake. We'll get to the dancing tomorrow.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Three Thai Restaurants
Yesterday was my day off, and so my friend Sandrew and I decided to go out to dinner after a lazy day by the pool. After a short debate, we decided on Thai food and looked up the closest places on the ol' GPS. There turned out to be a good one very close to where we are staying, with great online reviews, so the decision was easily made.
THAI RESTAURANT #1
We pulled into a sketchy looking strip mall and parked in front of what was, according to the internet, the best Thai place in town. Sadly, from the outside, it looked more like a run down opium den of some sort. The windows were all black and, even though the sticker on the door said open, it didn't seem like a very welcoming place. Now, we did not go inside, so perhaps it was very nice in there. Maybe they darkened the windows so that everyone else walking by the sketchy looking strip mall would not see all the nice stuff they had in there and try to steal it. Maybe. But regardless, we never left the car, and instead headed to the second closest place on the list.
THAI RESTAURANT #2
We pulled into the driveway, and right away something seemed wrong. Was it the fact that all of the windows were broken, or was it the lack of a door? Perhaps it was the collapsed wooden fence draped artfully over the side of the building. It could have been the "Closed" sign that hung crookedly from what appeared to be a slightly burnt door frame. No, this place did not seem to be any better than the last place we were at, although at least we could see inside this post-apocalyptic place quite clearly. Better to move on to somewhere else.
THAI RESTAURANT #3
Finally! A place with clear windows that were fully intact! Indoor and outdoor seating! A deck! Delicious Thai food! And after almost an hour of driving, we would have pretty much eaten anywhere that had not fully burned down.
So if you are looking for a recommendation for Thai food in St. Petersburg, FL, my suggestion would be to eat at place #3. And if you can't find it, well, I still have some leftovers that I guess you could have.
THAI RESTAURANT #1
We pulled into a sketchy looking strip mall and parked in front of what was, according to the internet, the best Thai place in town. Sadly, from the outside, it looked more like a run down opium den of some sort. The windows were all black and, even though the sticker on the door said open, it didn't seem like a very welcoming place. Now, we did not go inside, so perhaps it was very nice in there. Maybe they darkened the windows so that everyone else walking by the sketchy looking strip mall would not see all the nice stuff they had in there and try to steal it. Maybe. But regardless, we never left the car, and instead headed to the second closest place on the list.
THAI RESTAURANT #2
We pulled into the driveway, and right away something seemed wrong. Was it the fact that all of the windows were broken, or was it the lack of a door? Perhaps it was the collapsed wooden fence draped artfully over the side of the building. It could have been the "Closed" sign that hung crookedly from what appeared to be a slightly burnt door frame. No, this place did not seem to be any better than the last place we were at, although at least we could see inside this post-apocalyptic place quite clearly. Better to move on to somewhere else.
THAI RESTAURANT #3
Finally! A place with clear windows that were fully intact! Indoor and outdoor seating! A deck! Delicious Thai food! And after almost an hour of driving, we would have pretty much eaten anywhere that had not fully burned down.
So if you are looking for a recommendation for Thai food in St. Petersburg, FL, my suggestion would be to eat at place #3. And if you can't find it, well, I still have some leftovers that I guess you could have.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Should I Shave My Head?
I was not considering the question about whether or not to shave my head until very recently, when the director of the company for which I am currently singing asked me to consider it. Now, independently, we have each come to the same conclusion, which is that I am not going to do it. (Sorry folks). He wants me in a wig, and I want me in my hair, but I would still like to consider the question anyway.
The first thing that I thought of when he brought it up, was "ACK!" The second thing that went through my mind was, "How far am I willing to go for my art?" These types of questions are fun to ponder, until you are suddenly faced with the reality of them. We have all sat around with our opera program buddies and discussed things like whether or not we would ever do on-stage nudity, and other such fun topics, but it is easier to discuss such things in theory than to deal with them in practice.
I decided that I should call my wife, sure that she would say no, and that I would be off the hook for making the decision. Instead, she said something along the lines of "Wow. Hmmmm. That's a pretty big decision. What are you going to do?" This was not the response I was looking for. I figured the next step would be to call my agent, and then she could forbid it.
Before I had the chance to call her, it occurred to me that perhaps she could negotiate more money for me if I did it. This brought about the new thought process of "How much money would it take for me to shave my head?" Would I do it for $100? $500? $1000? Hmmmmm. Is my artistic integrity for sale? But it really would cost me something to shave my head. Audition season starts a few weeks after our show ends, meaning I would have to spend the next month or two of auditions either bald and looking nothing like my head shot, or slightly fuzzy and patchy and looking nothing like my head shot. Then there is always the concern among those of us with thinner hair than we used to have, that it may not all grow back the way we want it to. I really might be giving something up to shave my head, so I would not feel too badly saying that I would need more money.
Of course I know the company is not going to pay me lots more money just to do something they are not sure about anyway (They are in the black for a reason!), so really all of these excuses I was thinking of were really just me trying to get out of doing it, which led me to the conclusion that I really didn't want to shave my head. It gets cold in Vermont! I need my hair!
So, upon much thought and advice seeking, I decided to tell them that I was not going to shave my head, for reasons of looking like my head shot during audition season, and also I just didn't want to. As it turns out, they day I was going to bring it up was the day they introduced me to the wig and makeup people, and told them that I needed a wig for the show, so it was a moot point and I didn't have to mention it after all. But I still feel, at least partially, that I am just being a chicken, and that I ought to give my all for my art form, no matter what it takes. What do you think? Would you have shaved your head? Would you have thought less of me artistically if I had refused, or more of me if I hadn't? This was not covered during my voice lessons.
It's tough being an opera singer.
The first thing that I thought of when he brought it up, was "ACK!" The second thing that went through my mind was, "How far am I willing to go for my art?" These types of questions are fun to ponder, until you are suddenly faced with the reality of them. We have all sat around with our opera program buddies and discussed things like whether or not we would ever do on-stage nudity, and other such fun topics, but it is easier to discuss such things in theory than to deal with them in practice.
I decided that I should call my wife, sure that she would say no, and that I would be off the hook for making the decision. Instead, she said something along the lines of "Wow. Hmmmm. That's a pretty big decision. What are you going to do?" This was not the response I was looking for. I figured the next step would be to call my agent, and then she could forbid it.
Before I had the chance to call her, it occurred to me that perhaps she could negotiate more money for me if I did it. This brought about the new thought process of "How much money would it take for me to shave my head?" Would I do it for $100? $500? $1000? Hmmmmm. Is my artistic integrity for sale? But it really would cost me something to shave my head. Audition season starts a few weeks after our show ends, meaning I would have to spend the next month or two of auditions either bald and looking nothing like my head shot, or slightly fuzzy and patchy and looking nothing like my head shot. Then there is always the concern among those of us with thinner hair than we used to have, that it may not all grow back the way we want it to. I really might be giving something up to shave my head, so I would not feel too badly saying that I would need more money.
Of course I know the company is not going to pay me lots more money just to do something they are not sure about anyway (They are in the black for a reason!), so really all of these excuses I was thinking of were really just me trying to get out of doing it, which led me to the conclusion that I really didn't want to shave my head. It gets cold in Vermont! I need my hair!
So, upon much thought and advice seeking, I decided to tell them that I was not going to shave my head, for reasons of looking like my head shot during audition season, and also I just didn't want to. As it turns out, they day I was going to bring it up was the day they introduced me to the wig and makeup people, and told them that I needed a wig for the show, so it was a moot point and I didn't have to mention it after all. But I still feel, at least partially, that I am just being a chicken, and that I ought to give my all for my art form, no matter what it takes. What do you think? Would you have shaved your head? Would you have thought less of me artistically if I had refused, or more of me if I hadn't? This was not covered during my voice lessons.
It's tough being an opera singer.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
The Difference Between Opera and Operetta
The main difference between Opera and Operetta is, obviously, the letters "ett" inserted into the word, giving Operetta an extra syllable. Upon further analysis, we find that having an "ett" towards the end of a word generally makes it female, such as in the case of "Smurfette," the female Smurf, or in the case of The Chipettes, who are the female counterparts to Alvin and the Chipmunks. When confronted with this undeniable evidence, we can now conclude that an Operetta is a female Opera.
Now, wait a minute, you are saying at this point. What about a dinette set? I don't know what a dinette set is, but they often give them away on game shows, such as "The Price is Right," and they do not appear to be female diners. This is true. Hmmmm, you have me there. Hold on, let me check wikipedia. Ah ha! According to the page on dining rooms, a dinette is an eating space smaller than a dining room, but bigger than a breakfast nook. So there you have it, the difference between a dining room and a dinette.
Huh? Oh yeah, I got sidetracked, that was not the question. Well, okay, let's look at the show I am currently involved in, Die Fledermaus. This show is an operetta. It is very silly, it has sung music as well as spoken dialogue, and we are doing it in English. Now we shall look at the last show I did before this one, La Rondine. That show was an opera, and it had a sad ending and no spoken dialogue to speak of, and we sang it in Italian. It was also a bit longer. So the difference between opera and operetta is that operas are long and sad and in a funny language with no talking, and operettas are short, funny, and in English, with spoken dialogue.
Wait, except that the opera I did before La Rondine was Gianni Schicchi. It was short, funny, and we did it in English. And it was an opera! Rats. Okay, so the basic difference must be that operas are all singing, and operettas have talking in them. But isn't that just a musical then? No, because musicals are not sung by opera singers. So basically an operetta is a musical that opera singers sing. And a musical is an operetta that Broadway singers sing? That doesn't seem quite right either.
Okay, I stand by my original conclusion. An operetta is a female opera. The end.
I shouldn't have let the dining rooms confuse me...
Now, wait a minute, you are saying at this point. What about a dinette set? I don't know what a dinette set is, but they often give them away on game shows, such as "The Price is Right," and they do not appear to be female diners. This is true. Hmmmm, you have me there. Hold on, let me check wikipedia. Ah ha! According to the page on dining rooms, a dinette is an eating space smaller than a dining room, but bigger than a breakfast nook. So there you have it, the difference between a dining room and a dinette.
Huh? Oh yeah, I got sidetracked, that was not the question. Well, okay, let's look at the show I am currently involved in, Die Fledermaus. This show is an operetta. It is very silly, it has sung music as well as spoken dialogue, and we are doing it in English. Now we shall look at the last show I did before this one, La Rondine. That show was an opera, and it had a sad ending and no spoken dialogue to speak of, and we sang it in Italian. It was also a bit longer. So the difference between opera and operetta is that operas are long and sad and in a funny language with no talking, and operettas are short, funny, and in English, with spoken dialogue.
Wait, except that the opera I did before La Rondine was Gianni Schicchi. It was short, funny, and we did it in English. And it was an opera! Rats. Okay, so the basic difference must be that operas are all singing, and operettas have talking in them. But isn't that just a musical then? No, because musicals are not sung by opera singers. So basically an operetta is a musical that opera singers sing. And a musical is an operetta that Broadway singers sing? That doesn't seem quite right either.
Okay, I stand by my original conclusion. An operetta is a female opera. The end.
I shouldn't have let the dining rooms confuse me...
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
But I Only Want One Shirt!
I was informed yesterday that I was required to provide a white v-neck t-shirt for this opera production. I was at my costume fitting, and I was totally unprepared. I didn't have my shoes, I didn't bring any suspenders, and I was certainly not wearing a white v-neck t-shirt. Now, my shoes were at my host house, and the costume folks said they would find suspenders, but the t-shirt was up to me. I'm sure that if I had protested, a shirt would have been provided, but it didn't seem like a big deal, and so I offered to go buy one, and off to the store I went.
I arrived at Target and headed immediately for the toy section, just out of instinct. Once I had finished looking at all of the Disney princesses and Toy Story 3 figures, I made my way to the men's clothing section, where they had a huge selection of t-shirts for me to choose from, and this was where my trouble began.
Now, I only needed one t-shirt, but they do not sell under-t-shirts by the ones apparently. They had packs of 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, and 10 white v-neck t-shirts, and so I figured that if I bought a bunch, I would probably get a better deal, so I went first to the 10-pack.
Ugh. $21.99. I am not spending $22 on a t-shirt for this show. Well, I will just go down to the 8 pack. $17.99. Ok, this is crazy, I will just go get a 2-pack. Wait, a 2-pack is $13.99?! How is that possible!? Oh, I see, it's a "higher quality" shirt or something. Well, okay, I will get a low quality 3-pack. Ah, here it is, the 3-pack is...$13.99?! Fine, I will get the 5-pack! $13.99!!!! Well, how much is the 7-pack?! $13.99!!!!!! No matter how many shirts you get, it costs $13.99! Sure, the 8 and 10 packs were more, but to get 1-7 shirts, you have to pay the same amount of money! And you can't even buy only one shirt anyway!
So I bought the 5-pack, thinking it would be higher quality than the 7-pack, but I would get more shirts than the 2-pack, if that makes any sense. But I have no idea how to judge t-shirt quality anyway, and the whole thing seems crazy to me! Next time, they can buy me the dang shirt.
I arrived at Target and headed immediately for the toy section, just out of instinct. Once I had finished looking at all of the Disney princesses and Toy Story 3 figures, I made my way to the men's clothing section, where they had a huge selection of t-shirts for me to choose from, and this was where my trouble began.
Now, I only needed one t-shirt, but they do not sell under-t-shirts by the ones apparently. They had packs of 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, and 10 white v-neck t-shirts, and so I figured that if I bought a bunch, I would probably get a better deal, so I went first to the 10-pack.
Ugh. $21.99. I am not spending $22 on a t-shirt for this show. Well, I will just go down to the 8 pack. $17.99. Ok, this is crazy, I will just go get a 2-pack. Wait, a 2-pack is $13.99?! How is that possible!? Oh, I see, it's a "higher quality" shirt or something. Well, okay, I will get a low quality 3-pack. Ah, here it is, the 3-pack is...$13.99?! Fine, I will get the 5-pack! $13.99!!!! Well, how much is the 7-pack?! $13.99!!!!!! No matter how many shirts you get, it costs $13.99! Sure, the 8 and 10 packs were more, but to get 1-7 shirts, you have to pay the same amount of money! And you can't even buy only one shirt anyway!
So I bought the 5-pack, thinking it would be higher quality than the 7-pack, but I would get more shirts than the 2-pack, if that makes any sense. But I have no idea how to judge t-shirt quality anyway, and the whole thing seems crazy to me! Next time, they can buy me the dang shirt.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Angry Black Bird
So here I am, in the midst of rehearsals again and, as usual, there is a lot of down time. It's unavoidable. The director will be working with another singer on something, and I will be sitting around doing nothing for ten or fifteen minutes. Well, not nothing. There is one thing I can do to get through these hard times. That thing, obviously, is play Angry Birds. In fact, we all spend a lot of the rehearsal time playing Angry Birds, and so I have created a little tribute to the official pastime of the opera. And yes, I clearly have too much time on my hands.
Friday, September 16, 2011
How Fat Did You Think I Was?
Having arrived now in St. Petersburg, FL for the third time this year, I have naturally made some friends down here, and was very happy to see several people again, and it seemed as though they were happy to see me too. One comment I have received from almost every person around is that I look really good. And not just in a "Hey, lookin' good!" kind of way, but in a more specific "Have you been working out? You've lost weight! You look pretty ripped!" kind of way.
Now, I am certainly not going to argue with anyone about how awesome I look, except that, as far as I know, I look the same as I did before. My muscles seem the same sad size to me, and my stomach seems as large as ever. Now, we have two possibilities here. One is that I have actually lost weight and built up some muscle, and just not noticed. This is, I suppose, possible, on account of the giant baby I carry around every day, and it is often difficult to notice gradual changes when you are there every day with yourself. But the other possibility is that I am the same as I ever was, and people just used to think I was fat and weak.
To be fair here, I was fat and weak, and, to my knowledge, this is a trend that continues to the present day. However, if I have done nothing different, and somehow appear sleeker and more muscular, well, I want to know how I did it, so that I can do more of it and further my visual upgrade. So then the question is, did I look bad then, and now look better, or did I look good then, and now look way better? This bears further investigation.
Regardless of the reasoning behind it, it is nice to hear that I am looking halfway decent, and it does motivate me to actually lose weight and start changing my flab into muscle. Even though I don't look that fat compared to many of my other fellow Americans, I would still like to be healthier. Many people seem to not know how fat they are, perhaps because they only use the comparison method of weight assessment. But that is a topic for another day. For now, I just need to look buff enough that nobody tries to kill me in any more restaurants.
Now, I am certainly not going to argue with anyone about how awesome I look, except that, as far as I know, I look the same as I did before. My muscles seem the same sad size to me, and my stomach seems as large as ever. Now, we have two possibilities here. One is that I have actually lost weight and built up some muscle, and just not noticed. This is, I suppose, possible, on account of the giant baby I carry around every day, and it is often difficult to notice gradual changes when you are there every day with yourself. But the other possibility is that I am the same as I ever was, and people just used to think I was fat and weak.
To be fair here, I was fat and weak, and, to my knowledge, this is a trend that continues to the present day. However, if I have done nothing different, and somehow appear sleeker and more muscular, well, I want to know how I did it, so that I can do more of it and further my visual upgrade. So then the question is, did I look bad then, and now look better, or did I look good then, and now look way better? This bears further investigation.
Regardless of the reasoning behind it, it is nice to hear that I am looking halfway decent, and it does motivate me to actually lose weight and start changing my flab into muscle. Even though I don't look that fat compared to many of my other fellow Americans, I would still like to be healthier. Many people seem to not know how fat they are, perhaps because they only use the comparison method of weight assessment. But that is a topic for another day. For now, I just need to look buff enough that nobody tries to kill me in any more restaurants.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Lost in Translation
Do you remember the other day, when I was telling you about learning the wrong translation of Die Fledermaus? Well, I just wanted to give you all an update on that situation. As it turns out, the whole new translation I re-learned was also completely wrong. Like, the whole thing. All of the lines I learned, despite having the same authors, same publishers, and same copyright dates as the correct lines, are not at all the lines that I will be performing. I have to learn the entire show over again.
At least the musical notes haven't changed. But honestly, I don't know what I am doing writing a blog right now. The show opens in 15 days! And I have to relearn the entire thing! Dozens and dozens of new lines! You are all being very distracting right now. I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow...
At least the musical notes haven't changed. But honestly, I don't know what I am doing writing a blog right now. The show opens in 15 days! And I have to relearn the entire thing! Dozens and dozens of new lines! You are all being very distracting right now. I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
How I Almost Got Beaten Up
So for those of you who don't know, I, like many singers, have a small problem with reflux. I also have some post nasal drip issues that I will not get into here, and when you combine these things with my allergies, well, let's just say that I tend to clear my throat a lot. I think it's less now than it used to be, and I'm working on it constantly, as I am sure it is not good for my voice, but it is what it is. I've been doing it since I was in elementary school, and I have tried diet, medication, and pretty much everything else, to no avail. Sometimes I just have to clear my throat.
So anyway, I was out to dinner with my new friend Sandrew Auvageau, and we were having all you can eat ribs at Sonny's BBQ. As we were finishing our meal, an extremely large gentleman lumbered over and placed his hands on our table as he loomed over us. Just so you have an accurate picture of this man, he had an 80's moustache, was wearing a shirt with no sleeves, and his arms had more muscles than my entire body put together. He was, in a word, terrifying. At first I thought he was going to ask for money or something
He said, "Hey gentlemen, I'm just trying to eat my dinner over here, but someone at this table is hacking, and my friend and I are trying to enjoy our meal. Do you understand me?" Now, at this point I was just staring at him and not saying anything, so he said again, "I'm trying to enjoy my meal. Do you understand me?"
"We're actually just waiting for our check, so we'll be gone in a minute," I said, trying not squeak in a frightened manner.
"Well, I'm going to go back and enjoy my dinner. I hope you understand me," he said in a very threatening way, and he turned to leave. That was when my friend Sandrew decided to give him the finger. Luckily, he noticed at the last second that the man's friend was staring at us, and he managed to turn his finger raising into some other more benign gesture in the nick of time.
I tried very hard not to hack anything in bigfoot's direction, but only out of pure fear. We paid our bill and left quickly, not stopping to look behind us. Sandrew assured me that I had only cleared my throat 3 or 4 times during the meal, and it had not been in a particularly offensive manner, but I still felt a little bad that I had almost gotten us killed. I am not kidding when I say that one wrong move, and I think we would have been receiving beatings in the parking lot.
In other news, I'm not eating at that Sonny's anymore, and I'm going to start working out.
So anyway, I was out to dinner with my new friend Sandrew Auvageau, and we were having all you can eat ribs at Sonny's BBQ. As we were finishing our meal, an extremely large gentleman lumbered over and placed his hands on our table as he loomed over us. Just so you have an accurate picture of this man, he had an 80's moustache, was wearing a shirt with no sleeves, and his arms had more muscles than my entire body put together. He was, in a word, terrifying. At first I thought he was going to ask for money or something
He said, "Hey gentlemen, I'm just trying to eat my dinner over here, but someone at this table is hacking, and my friend and I are trying to enjoy our meal. Do you understand me?" Now, at this point I was just staring at him and not saying anything, so he said again, "I'm trying to enjoy my meal. Do you understand me?"
"We're actually just waiting for our check, so we'll be gone in a minute," I said, trying not squeak in a frightened manner.
"Well, I'm going to go back and enjoy my dinner. I hope you understand me," he said in a very threatening way, and he turned to leave. That was when my friend Sandrew decided to give him the finger. Luckily, he noticed at the last second that the man's friend was staring at us, and he managed to turn his finger raising into some other more benign gesture in the nick of time.
I tried very hard not to hack anything in bigfoot's direction, but only out of pure fear. We paid our bill and left quickly, not stopping to look behind us. Sandrew assured me that I had only cleared my throat 3 or 4 times during the meal, and it had not been in a particularly offensive manner, but I still felt a little bad that I had almost gotten us killed. I am not kidding when I say that one wrong move, and I think we would have been receiving beatings in the parking lot.
In other news, I'm not eating at that Sonny's anymore, and I'm going to start working out.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Die Fledermaus
Die Fledermaus (literally, Batman) is an operetta by Johann "The Other" Strauss, which exactly follows the plot of La Rondine, which, as you may recall, has the same plot as La Traviata, which, as we all know, is really just the same story as Pretty Woman.
Let me sum up the plots of both Die Fledermaus and La Rondine for you quickly. Act 1: Rich people sit around at home before eventually deciding to all go out drinking, separately, and in disguise. Act 2: Everyone is pretending to be someone else and drinking heavily, the chambermaid is wearing her bosses dress, and they mostly recognize each other, but pretend not to. Act 3: We get to see what happens to everyone after one night of major drinking and bad decisions.
So as you can see, they are basically the same show, except that many of the characters' names are different, and they say and do different things, and also one is about a bird and one is about a bat.
The story of Die Fledermaus opens with our hero, Eisenstein, being badly mistreated, in that there is another tenor on stage, singing to his wife. If there is one thing a tenor hates, it is another tenor on stage singing, so Eisenstein comes stomping home, where we learn that he has a terrible lawyer, and must now go to jail. Luckily, his friend Falke comes along and tells him about a great party, so Eisenstein naturally decides to put off going to jail, as there will be an open bar at this party.
Now, some other people are going to the party as well, and if they were tenors I would tell you about them, but as they are not, let's skip to the part where Eisenstein shows up. He is very happy, because the other tenor has now been arrested, and, as such, cannot participate in Act 2. Eisenstein starts looking around for girls to show off his watch to, because back in those days watches were apparently a potent aphrodisiac. Unfortunately for him, his wife is at the party as well, and even more unfortunately, she tricks him and steals his watch. Having nothing else to woo girls with, he decides to end the act and go to jail, where, unbeknownst to him, his arch enemy, the other tenor, is waiting.
Act 3 is mostly a gigantic duel between the two tenors, similar to that battle between Qui Gon Jinn and Darth Maul at the end of The Phantom Menace, except that instead of having to race through corridors and use the force, Eisenstein has to dress up as a lawyer and yell a lot. It's hard to tell if the show ends as a comedy or a tragedy, since our hero does end up in jail. But he also gets his watch back, so I guess it all evens out. The real tragedy is that nothing really bad happens to the other tenor, but I suppose we can only imagine that horrible things happen to him after the curtain comes down.
Thus ends the tale of Mr. Eisenstein, the dashing and brilliant hero of our story. And if you want to know stuff about the other characters, well, go see the show.
Let me sum up the plots of both Die Fledermaus and La Rondine for you quickly. Act 1: Rich people sit around at home before eventually deciding to all go out drinking, separately, and in disguise. Act 2: Everyone is pretending to be someone else and drinking heavily, the chambermaid is wearing her bosses dress, and they mostly recognize each other, but pretend not to. Act 3: We get to see what happens to everyone after one night of major drinking and bad decisions.
So as you can see, they are basically the same show, except that many of the characters' names are different, and they say and do different things, and also one is about a bird and one is about a bat.
The story of Die Fledermaus opens with our hero, Eisenstein, being badly mistreated, in that there is another tenor on stage, singing to his wife. If there is one thing a tenor hates, it is another tenor on stage singing, so Eisenstein comes stomping home, where we learn that he has a terrible lawyer, and must now go to jail. Luckily, his friend Falke comes along and tells him about a great party, so Eisenstein naturally decides to put off going to jail, as there will be an open bar at this party.
Now, some other people are going to the party as well, and if they were tenors I would tell you about them, but as they are not, let's skip to the part where Eisenstein shows up. He is very happy, because the other tenor has now been arrested, and, as such, cannot participate in Act 2. Eisenstein starts looking around for girls to show off his watch to, because back in those days watches were apparently a potent aphrodisiac. Unfortunately for him, his wife is at the party as well, and even more unfortunately, she tricks him and steals his watch. Having nothing else to woo girls with, he decides to end the act and go to jail, where, unbeknownst to him, his arch enemy, the other tenor, is waiting.
Act 3 is mostly a gigantic duel between the two tenors, similar to that battle between Qui Gon Jinn and Darth Maul at the end of The Phantom Menace, except that instead of having to race through corridors and use the force, Eisenstein has to dress up as a lawyer and yell a lot. It's hard to tell if the show ends as a comedy or a tragedy, since our hero does end up in jail. But he also gets his watch back, so I guess it all evens out. The real tragedy is that nothing really bad happens to the other tenor, but I suppose we can only imagine that horrible things happen to him after the curtain comes down.
Thus ends the tale of Mr. Eisenstein, the dashing and brilliant hero of our story. And if you want to know stuff about the other characters, well, go see the show.
Monday, September 12, 2011
10 Years Later
Yesterday was the tenth anniversary of the attacks that occurred on September 11th, 2001. Last year, when I was very new to blogging, I wrote a little bit about my recollections of that day, and some reflections on what it meant to me. Today, I want to talk a little bit about moving forward.
My brother, who served in Iraq shortly after the attacks, has told me before that people should be required to watch the footage of the attacks every day so that we can really remember what happened, and what we should be fighting for. I have actually heard this a lot, from many people, and this makes me very sad, because it means that there is still a lot of pent up hurt and rage festering from that day. Perhaps this is obvious to you. Perhaps it is only natural that we should still feel anger and hate. A terrible thing was done.
I tend to look at our country these days like I would look at any person who has been hurt, or damaged. First and foremost, I feel a great sense of sadness for whatever has occurred, and for whoever is hurting because of it. But secondly, and after we take stock of the hurt, I feel that it is time to heal. I will not deny the feelings of anger felt by so many people, but I will say to you all, well, what are you going to do about it?
Yes, I know. You are going to say that we should kill all the terrorists, etc. But revenge has almost never been a direct route to healing. It is generally a direct route to more trouble. I know it's a hard thing to avoid. "But he hit me first!" is ingrained in our psyches from day one. But does it really make you feel better to hit back? Maybe for a second, but then you have to worry about getting hit again, and again. There is never going to be any peace, or peace of mind while you are both hitting each other. Taking steps to ensure you don't get hit again? Absolutely, but it is a fine line between that rationale and pure revenge, and when you are living in a wounded place of raw hurt, it is often hard to distinguish between the two.
And so I don't think we should all watch the videos of the planes hitting the towers every day, any more than I would advise watching the bombing of Pearl Harbor every day, or certainly any more than I would advise someone who lost a loved one to a drunk driver to watch a video of that every day. It's not healthy, and it's just not going to be productive, except for the purposes of making you more upset, and if you really just feel like being that upset about it, then I would pray that you experience some healing of your own. There are better ways to remember what we lost.
Now, lest you think me too soft on terror, I must remind you of my belief that we should absolutely do whatever we can to ensure that something like that never happens again. And we probably have different ideas on how that should work. But knee-jerk actions taken from a motivation of revenge are not going to make us feel any better, or any safer. I have argued against the death penalty for years, and proponents of it always ask me, "What if it was your family that had been murdered?" And I have only one answer for them. If my family had just been killed, I would fly into an unholy rage, and if the people responsible were anywhere near me, I would probably kill them. But that would not bring my family back, and it would probably just end up making me feel guilty, or even more helpless, having "delivered justice" and now having nowhere to aim the pain that I would still be feeling. But given some cool down time, sitting in a courtroom, I think I would not ask for the death penalty. Now, how could I know this? How could anyone know what they would do in such a situation?
The closest I have ever come to experiencing such a situation, was on September 11th, 2001. Many people actually did lose friends and family members that day, and for them, the grieving is a different process. But for the rest of us, it was like a smack in the face, a punch in the gut, and a kick in the groin, all at the same time. We had been attacked, and something precious had been taken from us. For about a week, I swore I was going to join the army and go overseas and just start shooting whoever might be responsible. My future wife was concerned about this, and told me not to do anything rash or stupid. But man, for a minute there, I was angry and hurt enough to do it. And then I cooled down. There's a reason I try not to say anything to someone when I get really angry at them. I would rather leave the room, because I know I will say something I will regret. Something I really don't mean, just out of anger. And there is a reason there is a waiting period on purchasing guns. And there is a reason that I did not join the army and start shooting people. I would have been miserable. I am definitely not soldier material. I just needed some time before the healing could begin. Yeah, 9/11 still makes me sick to my stomach when I think about it, and yes, I spent yesterday in a bit of a funk, trying to cope with a lot of different feelings. And yes, I am still a little angry. But mostly, I just want to move on. America, it's cool down time. The pain is real, and it will always be there, but we need to start the healing.
My brother, who served in Iraq shortly after the attacks, has told me before that people should be required to watch the footage of the attacks every day so that we can really remember what happened, and what we should be fighting for. I have actually heard this a lot, from many people, and this makes me very sad, because it means that there is still a lot of pent up hurt and rage festering from that day. Perhaps this is obvious to you. Perhaps it is only natural that we should still feel anger and hate. A terrible thing was done.
I tend to look at our country these days like I would look at any person who has been hurt, or damaged. First and foremost, I feel a great sense of sadness for whatever has occurred, and for whoever is hurting because of it. But secondly, and after we take stock of the hurt, I feel that it is time to heal. I will not deny the feelings of anger felt by so many people, but I will say to you all, well, what are you going to do about it?
Yes, I know. You are going to say that we should kill all the terrorists, etc. But revenge has almost never been a direct route to healing. It is generally a direct route to more trouble. I know it's a hard thing to avoid. "But he hit me first!" is ingrained in our psyches from day one. But does it really make you feel better to hit back? Maybe for a second, but then you have to worry about getting hit again, and again. There is never going to be any peace, or peace of mind while you are both hitting each other. Taking steps to ensure you don't get hit again? Absolutely, but it is a fine line between that rationale and pure revenge, and when you are living in a wounded place of raw hurt, it is often hard to distinguish between the two.
And so I don't think we should all watch the videos of the planes hitting the towers every day, any more than I would advise watching the bombing of Pearl Harbor every day, or certainly any more than I would advise someone who lost a loved one to a drunk driver to watch a video of that every day. It's not healthy, and it's just not going to be productive, except for the purposes of making you more upset, and if you really just feel like being that upset about it, then I would pray that you experience some healing of your own. There are better ways to remember what we lost.
Now, lest you think me too soft on terror, I must remind you of my belief that we should absolutely do whatever we can to ensure that something like that never happens again. And we probably have different ideas on how that should work. But knee-jerk actions taken from a motivation of revenge are not going to make us feel any better, or any safer. I have argued against the death penalty for years, and proponents of it always ask me, "What if it was your family that had been murdered?" And I have only one answer for them. If my family had just been killed, I would fly into an unholy rage, and if the people responsible were anywhere near me, I would probably kill them. But that would not bring my family back, and it would probably just end up making me feel guilty, or even more helpless, having "delivered justice" and now having nowhere to aim the pain that I would still be feeling. But given some cool down time, sitting in a courtroom, I think I would not ask for the death penalty. Now, how could I know this? How could anyone know what they would do in such a situation?
The closest I have ever come to experiencing such a situation, was on September 11th, 2001. Many people actually did lose friends and family members that day, and for them, the grieving is a different process. But for the rest of us, it was like a smack in the face, a punch in the gut, and a kick in the groin, all at the same time. We had been attacked, and something precious had been taken from us. For about a week, I swore I was going to join the army and go overseas and just start shooting whoever might be responsible. My future wife was concerned about this, and told me not to do anything rash or stupid. But man, for a minute there, I was angry and hurt enough to do it. And then I cooled down. There's a reason I try not to say anything to someone when I get really angry at them. I would rather leave the room, because I know I will say something I will regret. Something I really don't mean, just out of anger. And there is a reason there is a waiting period on purchasing guns. And there is a reason that I did not join the army and start shooting people. I would have been miserable. I am definitely not soldier material. I just needed some time before the healing could begin. Yeah, 9/11 still makes me sick to my stomach when I think about it, and yes, I spent yesterday in a bit of a funk, trying to cope with a lot of different feelings. And yes, I am still a little angry. But mostly, I just want to move on. America, it's cool down time. The pain is real, and it will always be there, but we need to start the healing.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Music and Fashion
I was watching Project Runway the other night, and one of the guest judges, at some point during the runway show, started making an impassioned speech about how fashion is more than just clothes. Clothes can change the way we feel, and the way we act. What we wear affects us deeply, and to design a brilliant piece of clothing can basically change the world. And I rolled my eyes. Hard.
Just so there is no confusion, I do not care about fashion. At all. If I had my way, I would wear old jeans and a t-shirt with a superhero on it every day for the rest of my life. When I go to things like weddings and concerts, I do not iron my clothes. People are often telling me that I am wearing wrinkly things, and I just shrug and agree with them. I honestly do not care about my clothing. I know that, in a field such as opera, I have to sometimes look nice, and when I do an audition I have to wear (ugh) a tie, but because I have almost no opinion on the matter, I have turned over the decision on what I wear to auditions to my voice teacher, because he cares a lot about what I wear, and I am happy to put on whatever he tells me to. I cared so little about fashion that, when someone who had devoted their whole lives to it tried to explain how important it was, I rolled my eyes at them through the television.
But the next day I started thinking more about what I had seen. I realized that the way that person spoke about fashion was the same way I have heard so many people (myself included) speak about music. What they were saying about clothes was exactly how I felt about music. It is powerful and world changing. It is worth devoting one's whole life to.
Then I started thinking about the people I have met that don't care about music. I can almost never believe them when people tell me they just don't like music. They don't even listen to it in the car? They don't have a CD (or MP3 if you are young and hip, or Record if you are old and hip) collection? They just aren't into music? How can that be? Music gets right into your soul and grabs you and doesn't let you go! It stays with you your entire life! Music brings back memories of specific times, places, and people that are important to us! How can anyone not be into music at all?
Those people have probably rolled their eyes at me. Hard. They probably thought I was some musical weirdo who was wasting my time on something that was not that important. They probably thought about music like I thought about fashion.
Now, I still don't care about fashion. I only watch Project Runway because I like game shows, and Project Runway is basically fashion Double Dare for grownups. But I think I understand it more, and I have decided not to roll my eyes at people with a passion for something. Passion, for anything, is rare, and if you have it, you have it. You have to believe in it, and follow it wherever it will take you. I wish I had more of it sometimes. So whether it's food, fashion, music, art, or dressing up like a anime character and shouting things at your friends in the woods, I hope you will not give up on what you love. There will probably be some eye rolls in your future, but not from me.
Just so there is no confusion, I do not care about fashion. At all. If I had my way, I would wear old jeans and a t-shirt with a superhero on it every day for the rest of my life. When I go to things like weddings and concerts, I do not iron my clothes. People are often telling me that I am wearing wrinkly things, and I just shrug and agree with them. I honestly do not care about my clothing. I know that, in a field such as opera, I have to sometimes look nice, and when I do an audition I have to wear (ugh) a tie, but because I have almost no opinion on the matter, I have turned over the decision on what I wear to auditions to my voice teacher, because he cares a lot about what I wear, and I am happy to put on whatever he tells me to. I cared so little about fashion that, when someone who had devoted their whole lives to it tried to explain how important it was, I rolled my eyes at them through the television.
But the next day I started thinking more about what I had seen. I realized that the way that person spoke about fashion was the same way I have heard so many people (myself included) speak about music. What they were saying about clothes was exactly how I felt about music. It is powerful and world changing. It is worth devoting one's whole life to.
Then I started thinking about the people I have met that don't care about music. I can almost never believe them when people tell me they just don't like music. They don't even listen to it in the car? They don't have a CD (or MP3 if you are young and hip, or Record if you are old and hip) collection? They just aren't into music? How can that be? Music gets right into your soul and grabs you and doesn't let you go! It stays with you your entire life! Music brings back memories of specific times, places, and people that are important to us! How can anyone not be into music at all?
Those people have probably rolled their eyes at me. Hard. They probably thought I was some musical weirdo who was wasting my time on something that was not that important. They probably thought about music like I thought about fashion.
Now, I still don't care about fashion. I only watch Project Runway because I like game shows, and Project Runway is basically fashion Double Dare for grownups. But I think I understand it more, and I have decided not to roll my eyes at people with a passion for something. Passion, for anything, is rare, and if you have it, you have it. You have to believe in it, and follow it wherever it will take you. I wish I had more of it sometimes. So whether it's food, fashion, music, art, or dressing up like a anime character and shouting things at your friends in the woods, I hope you will not give up on what you love. There will probably be some eye rolls in your future, but not from me.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
How Not to Prepare an Opera Role
I am leaving for Florida again in three days. I should, by that time, have memorized my role, one would think. I am close, but thanks to my lack of organization, there have been some challenges.
First of all, there is an issue with my score, in that it has different words in it than my libretto. Now, we are doing this show, originally written in German, in English. This creates the instant problem of multiple translations, which was solved, I had supposed, by the company sending an e-mail out, telling us exactly which translation to use. I have the correct translation, however my score came in two pieces. Since this is an operetta, it employs spoken dialogue as well as the sung bits, and for some odd reason, my score only contains the music. I have a separate book with the full libretto in it, spoken dialogue and all.
I have been learning the music from the music score, and the spoken dialogue from the libretto, and thought it was all fine, until, quite by accident, I realized this week that the sung words in my libretto are often different from what is in my score. Why this should be, I do not know. They are, according to the title pages, the same translation, written by the same folks in the same year. Of course, as it turns out, I have learned all the wrong words, and it is the stuff I was not aware of until this week that I will be performing soon. Very soon.
To add to this confusion, now they want us to sing some of the parts in German, and the rest in English. To be fair, they did tell us about this development like two months ago, but to also be fair, I forgot about it and learned those parts in English anyway. So now I am trying to cram German into my brain where there has been no German previously. And in case I forgot to mention it, my score only has the English version in it.
Friends, this is not a good way to learn an opera. I thought I was doing okay, but thanks to my own moronitude, I am now freaking out about having this ready to go when rehearsals start on Monday. The good news is, we are starting with Act 1, and none of these issues happen in Act 1, so really I have until Wednesday or Thursday to cram this new information. The other good news is, after running the show over and over again for a few weeks, I'm pretty sure I will be good to go on opening night, regardless of what I may or may not have thought I learned by accident.
The point of all of this is, even though I will be fine, it is making for a very stressful week, so when you are learning a role, be organized! Don't make the same mistakes I did, such as learning the show in the wrong language (this is actually the second time that has happened to me...), or learning pretend words from a pretend translation cleverly disguised as the actual translation. No, you must double check everything! And now, if you will excuse me, I have to go learn some music. At least I know all my speaking lines.
First of all, there is an issue with my score, in that it has different words in it than my libretto. Now, we are doing this show, originally written in German, in English. This creates the instant problem of multiple translations, which was solved, I had supposed, by the company sending an e-mail out, telling us exactly which translation to use. I have the correct translation, however my score came in two pieces. Since this is an operetta, it employs spoken dialogue as well as the sung bits, and for some odd reason, my score only contains the music. I have a separate book with the full libretto in it, spoken dialogue and all.
I have been learning the music from the music score, and the spoken dialogue from the libretto, and thought it was all fine, until, quite by accident, I realized this week that the sung words in my libretto are often different from what is in my score. Why this should be, I do not know. They are, according to the title pages, the same translation, written by the same folks in the same year. Of course, as it turns out, I have learned all the wrong words, and it is the stuff I was not aware of until this week that I will be performing soon. Very soon.
To add to this confusion, now they want us to sing some of the parts in German, and the rest in English. To be fair, they did tell us about this development like two months ago, but to also be fair, I forgot about it and learned those parts in English anyway. So now I am trying to cram German into my brain where there has been no German previously. And in case I forgot to mention it, my score only has the English version in it.
Friends, this is not a good way to learn an opera. I thought I was doing okay, but thanks to my own moronitude, I am now freaking out about having this ready to go when rehearsals start on Monday. The good news is, we are starting with Act 1, and none of these issues happen in Act 1, so really I have until Wednesday or Thursday to cram this new information. The other good news is, after running the show over and over again for a few weeks, I'm pretty sure I will be good to go on opening night, regardless of what I may or may not have thought I learned by accident.
The point of all of this is, even though I will be fine, it is making for a very stressful week, so when you are learning a role, be organized! Don't make the same mistakes I did, such as learning the show in the wrong language (this is actually the second time that has happened to me...), or learning pretend words from a pretend translation cleverly disguised as the actual translation. No, you must double check everything! And now, if you will excuse me, I have to go learn some music. At least I know all my speaking lines.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Ruby's Thoughts on School
Yesterday was Ruby's first official day at pre-school. She was excited; I was sad. It went well. She was only there for three and a half hours, and it was only her first day, but I was eager to get her impressions. Here is what I got out of her.
Me: Ruby, did you make any new friends at school today? Who was your favorite kid?
Ruby: Well, it was pretty hard to tell them apart.
Me: I see. Well, what did they look like? What color hair did they have?
Ruby: They all had brown hair that was the same. I was the only blonde one. I am the tallest one too.
Me (thinking): Surely they can't all be short and dark. One of them must look distinctive....
Ruby: Oh, I remember one kid's name. Ben. He's different, because his name is Ben.
Ruby: Hey Dad, do you want to know the two rules of pre-school?
Me: Yes, what are they?
Ruby: The first one is, if you drink water, you have to drink it near your cubby.
Me: Oh, ok.
Ruby: The other rule is, if you are carrying a chair, you have to have one hand on the seat, and one hand on the back.
Me: I see. And those are the only two rules that your school has?
Ruby: Yup. Oh, wait, also there was something about hand washing. Okay, three rules.
Ruby: We had special music time today.
Me: Oh, cool. Did you learn a new song?
Ruby: No, we just pretended to be things that can fly.
Me: Oh, okay. What were you?
Ruby: I was a bird. Actually, all the kids were birds, because the school forgot to teach us about dragons.
Me: So you had a lot of fun at school today?
Ruby: Yes!
Me: And did the teacher say what was going to happen tomorrow?
Ruby(laughing): Oh Dad, how can the teacher know what is going to happen tomorrow?
Me: Well, I mean are you going to have music again, or something else?
Ruby (still laughing): You have to wait for the teacher to think of what to do first, silly!
Me: Did you play on the playground?
Ruby: Yes.
Me: Did you wear you coat?
Ruby: No, Dad! It wasn't even raining!
Me: Okay, well what did you play?
Ruby: Oh, you know, swings, climbed around, slide, pirates, you know.
Me: Pirates? That sounds fun. Who did you play pirates with?
Ruby: Oh, one of those kids.
So there you have it. School from the perspective of a four year old. Hopefully day two goes as well as day one, and hopefully, by the end of the year, she will know at least one other kid's name. You know, besides Ben.
Me: Ruby, did you make any new friends at school today? Who was your favorite kid?
Ruby: Well, it was pretty hard to tell them apart.
Me: I see. Well, what did they look like? What color hair did they have?
Ruby: They all had brown hair that was the same. I was the only blonde one. I am the tallest one too.
Me (thinking): Surely they can't all be short and dark. One of them must look distinctive....
Ruby: Oh, I remember one kid's name. Ben. He's different, because his name is Ben.
Ruby: Hey Dad, do you want to know the two rules of pre-school?
Me: Yes, what are they?
Ruby: The first one is, if you drink water, you have to drink it near your cubby.
Me: Oh, ok.
Ruby: The other rule is, if you are carrying a chair, you have to have one hand on the seat, and one hand on the back.
Me: I see. And those are the only two rules that your school has?
Ruby: Yup. Oh, wait, also there was something about hand washing. Okay, three rules.
Ruby: We had special music time today.
Me: Oh, cool. Did you learn a new song?
Ruby: No, we just pretended to be things that can fly.
Me: Oh, okay. What were you?
Ruby: I was a bird. Actually, all the kids were birds, because the school forgot to teach us about dragons.
Me: So you had a lot of fun at school today?
Ruby: Yes!
Me: And did the teacher say what was going to happen tomorrow?
Ruby(laughing): Oh Dad, how can the teacher know what is going to happen tomorrow?
Me: Well, I mean are you going to have music again, or something else?
Ruby (still laughing): You have to wait for the teacher to think of what to do first, silly!
Me: Did you play on the playground?
Ruby: Yes.
Me: Did you wear you coat?
Ruby: No, Dad! It wasn't even raining!
Me: Okay, well what did you play?
Ruby: Oh, you know, swings, climbed around, slide, pirates, you know.
Me: Pirates? That sounds fun. Who did you play pirates with?
Ruby: Oh, one of those kids.
So there you have it. School from the perspective of a four year old. Hopefully day two goes as well as day one, and hopefully, by the end of the year, she will know at least one other kid's name. You know, besides Ben.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
To Ruby On Her First Day Of School
Ruby, today is your first day of school. By now, I will have already dropped you off in your new school outfit that we picked out, and you will be meeting new people and making your way in the world under the guidance of someone other than me. Partially your teacher, but mostly yourself. Although I will not be there to physically pick you up every time you fall down, I am with you in spirit, and I want to offer this advice to you in hopes that it will help you navigate pre-school and beyond.
Above all else, enjoy it. You will be in school in one form or another for the next 14-18 years. Sometimes enjoying something comes naturally, like with ice cream and mini-golf, but other times enjoying something is a choice that we make. Choose to enjoy school, because it will be a lot easier if you do.
Some people are not going to like you. I know this seems odd, because who on the planet could not possibly like you? I can't picture such a person, but I know that they are out there. Don't concern yourselves with these people. They are not any better or worse than you, but you can't be compatible with everyone. Treat them with respect, and they may come around in the future. If not, who needs them?
If you don't like your snack, trade it with someone else.
You are probably going to be taller than all the other kids. If anyone teases you about this, put something of theirs on a really high shelf.
Never whisper anything to another student that is not going to be hilarious when the teacher makes you repeat it in front of the class.
Remember the golden rule, but also remember that it is not literal. Don't do unto others stuff that you like, but they hate. Not everyone wants what you want, but we all want to be treated with respect.
Memorize quickly which drinking fountains have the best water, and make sure to get some every time you go by. Nothing beats being well hydrated.
If anyone ever tells you that you can't do something because you are a girl, come home and tell me right away. I will then tell your mother, and she will kill them.
If other kids' parents let them do stuff that you are not allowed to do, remember that those kids have bad parents and their houses are probably filled with monsters.
Even though you are going to be better, faster, and smarter than all the other kids, try not to make them feel too bad about it. You will need their support later when you run for pre-school class president.
If I get called in for a disciplinary meeting, it had better be for something awesome.
Finally, always listen to your teachers and do what they say. And never listen to any stories from Grammy about when Daddy was in school.
Good luck. Have fun. The mornings won't be the same without you around. Edward and I will dream of you while we nap. We love you! See you at lunch time!
Above all else, enjoy it. You will be in school in one form or another for the next 14-18 years. Sometimes enjoying something comes naturally, like with ice cream and mini-golf, but other times enjoying something is a choice that we make. Choose to enjoy school, because it will be a lot easier if you do.
Some people are not going to like you. I know this seems odd, because who on the planet could not possibly like you? I can't picture such a person, but I know that they are out there. Don't concern yourselves with these people. They are not any better or worse than you, but you can't be compatible with everyone. Treat them with respect, and they may come around in the future. If not, who needs them?
If you don't like your snack, trade it with someone else.
You are probably going to be taller than all the other kids. If anyone teases you about this, put something of theirs on a really high shelf.
Never whisper anything to another student that is not going to be hilarious when the teacher makes you repeat it in front of the class.
Remember the golden rule, but also remember that it is not literal. Don't do unto others stuff that you like, but they hate. Not everyone wants what you want, but we all want to be treated with respect.
Memorize quickly which drinking fountains have the best water, and make sure to get some every time you go by. Nothing beats being well hydrated.
If anyone ever tells you that you can't do something because you are a girl, come home and tell me right away. I will then tell your mother, and she will kill them.
If other kids' parents let them do stuff that you are not allowed to do, remember that those kids have bad parents and their houses are probably filled with monsters.
Even though you are going to be better, faster, and smarter than all the other kids, try not to make them feel too bad about it. You will need their support later when you run for pre-school class president.
If I get called in for a disciplinary meeting, it had better be for something awesome.
Finally, always listen to your teachers and do what they say. And never listen to any stories from Grammy about when Daddy was in school.
Good luck. Have fun. The mornings won't be the same without you around. Edward and I will dream of you while we nap. We love you! See you at lunch time!
Monday, September 5, 2011
One Year of Tenor Dad
Today is my blogiversary. One year ago today, late in the evening, I decided to start a blog. I was feeling sad about moving to Vermont, spending the Fall in New York, and leaving behind so many people, and so my first post promised to keep in touch with everyone that I would no longer see on a regular basis. I called it "Pilot" because, well, aren't the first episodes of everything called "Pilot?"
I have to say, I think the blog was generally a success. The readership has steadily grown, and I seem to be getting good feedback about it. I'm having a good time, and I think the discipline of writing nearly every day has been good for me. So it's time to celebrate! I will try to cram everything I can into this blog as we look back on a fine year of Tenor Dad!
Look! A cute picture of my kids on a ferris wheel!
Look! A cute video of Edward yelling into a fan!
Look! A haiku about my blog!
Tenor Dad: The Blog
Stories, pictures, videos.
Sometimes amusing.
Look! I am communicating my political views!
Everyone should stop fighting and compromise. The government's job, in my mind, is to protect its citizens, which means that we should all pay a good amount of taxes to fund the military, social programs, and stricter business regulations. I do not think money or the economy should ever come before the health and welfare of any American, even if they are system abusing jerks, like most of us are to some extent, whether we are rich dudes who play with tax loopholes, or poor dudes who don't get jobs because welfare pays more.
Look! A funny parenting anecdote!
Yesterday was Edward's baptism. As luck would have it, it was also the Sunday I was slated to sing during the service (unrelated, I assure you), so I had to arrive doubly early at church to practice my song and to prepare for the baptism. The rehearsal went well, but I noticed that the baptism was not in the bulletin. This was disappointing, because the whole reason you baptize your kid in the first place is so you can put a copy of that bulletin in their baby book.
Ok, there are other reasons too, but I thought I should mention this to the pastor, except I couldn't find him. It was around this time that my mother (on time for the first time in her life) and my sister arrived with their 400 children. The previously empty sanctuary was now filled to the brim with my relatives, so now I had to make sure that they were all here on the correct Sunday, and that we really were doing the baptism that day.
I found the pastor eventually, and he conceded that perhaps they should have printed it in the bulletin, and maybe he should have filled out the baptism certificate, and what was the baby's name again? He and I went down to his office to fill out the paperwork while my wife's side of the family arrived upstairs.
Luckily, the baptism itself went off without a hitch. Even though it wasn't printed, we still got to do it, and Edward looked super cute in his new outfit (especially his little hat). The rain even held off long enough for us to have a BBQ afterwards, so the whole thing can be considered a success. And look at his cute hat!
Phew! That was a lot of blog. I hope I gave you all a taste of what you love about Tenor Dad, and here's to another exciting year! See you tomorrow for the SECOND blog posted on a September the sixth!
I have to say, I think the blog was generally a success. The readership has steadily grown, and I seem to be getting good feedback about it. I'm having a good time, and I think the discipline of writing nearly every day has been good for me. So it's time to celebrate! I will try to cram everything I can into this blog as we look back on a fine year of Tenor Dad!
Look! A cute picture of my kids on a ferris wheel!
Look! A cute video of Edward yelling into a fan!
Look! A haiku about my blog!
Tenor Dad: The Blog
Stories, pictures, videos.
Sometimes amusing.
Look! I am communicating my political views!
Everyone should stop fighting and compromise. The government's job, in my mind, is to protect its citizens, which means that we should all pay a good amount of taxes to fund the military, social programs, and stricter business regulations. I do not think money or the economy should ever come before the health and welfare of any American, even if they are system abusing jerks, like most of us are to some extent, whether we are rich dudes who play with tax loopholes, or poor dudes who don't get jobs because welfare pays more.
Look! A funny parenting anecdote!
Yesterday was Edward's baptism. As luck would have it, it was also the Sunday I was slated to sing during the service (unrelated, I assure you), so I had to arrive doubly early at church to practice my song and to prepare for the baptism. The rehearsal went well, but I noticed that the baptism was not in the bulletin. This was disappointing, because the whole reason you baptize your kid in the first place is so you can put a copy of that bulletin in their baby book.
Ok, there are other reasons too, but I thought I should mention this to the pastor, except I couldn't find him. It was around this time that my mother (on time for the first time in her life) and my sister arrived with their 400 children. The previously empty sanctuary was now filled to the brim with my relatives, so now I had to make sure that they were all here on the correct Sunday, and that we really were doing the baptism that day.
I found the pastor eventually, and he conceded that perhaps they should have printed it in the bulletin, and maybe he should have filled out the baptism certificate, and what was the baby's name again? He and I went down to his office to fill out the paperwork while my wife's side of the family arrived upstairs.
Luckily, the baptism itself went off without a hitch. Even though it wasn't printed, we still got to do it, and Edward looked super cute in his new outfit (especially his little hat). The rain even held off long enough for us to have a BBQ afterwards, so the whole thing can be considered a success. And look at his cute hat!
Phew! That was a lot of blog. I hope I gave you all a taste of what you love about Tenor Dad, and here's to another exciting year! See you tomorrow for the SECOND blog posted on a September the sixth!
Friday, September 2, 2011
How to Keep Your Children Entertained for Hours
Keeping your children entertained so that they do not bite you or damage your furniture is a major concern for parents today, at least in my house, and so when I stumbled across a wonderful new way to occupy the kiddos I felt that I had to share it.
Now, I feel that I should be clear in revealing to you that keeping one kid occupied is a struggle, but it totally doable. The problem comes when you have more than one child. One of your children will likely be somewhat older, while the other one would be younger and at an earlier developmental stage, which means that there are very few things that they can actually do together that they will both enjoy. One of them may enjoy looking at books, the other one might enjoy eating books that their sibling is holding. This can lead to conflict. This problem may be somewhat mitigated if you have twins, but I don't have twins, so I wouldn't know. I can only assume they come with a whole separate set of problems.
So what is this magical activity that can occupy multiple children from incongruent age groups? Well, I could explain it to you, or I could show you this video. Since showing the video requires less typing and overall work on my part, I will do that. Enjoy, parents! And you're welcome.
Now, I feel that I should be clear in revealing to you that keeping one kid occupied is a struggle, but it totally doable. The problem comes when you have more than one child. One of your children will likely be somewhat older, while the other one would be younger and at an earlier developmental stage, which means that there are very few things that they can actually do together that they will both enjoy. One of them may enjoy looking at books, the other one might enjoy eating books that their sibling is holding. This can lead to conflict. This problem may be somewhat mitigated if you have twins, but I don't have twins, so I wouldn't know. I can only assume they come with a whole separate set of problems.
So what is this magical activity that can occupy multiple children from incongruent age groups? Well, I could explain it to you, or I could show you this video. Since showing the video requires less typing and overall work on my part, I will do that. Enjoy, parents! And you're welcome.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Tenor vs. Dad Debate: Spotify
It's time once again for the two halves of Tenor Dad to separate and discuss a subject on which their views differ. Today's subject is the new digital music platform Spotify, which allows you to basically listen to any song ever, whenever you want. And it's free. Are there any cons to this? We will find out.
Dad: Good morning, Tenor.
Tenor: Oh, it's you again.
Dad: Nice to see you too. So Spotify. What do you think?
Tenor: Are you kidding me? I love it! What's not to love? You just go online and listen to whatever you want, whenever you want it! You can't seriously tell me that you are against this!
Dad: No, I'm not against it. I just haven't found it compelling as I had hoped I would.
Tenor: Ok, so what's your problem, besides being lame?
Dad: Well, I think it's designed for people who are sitting at a desk all day, which I am not. I can't listen to it on my phone, unless I pay for it, and honestly, I pretty much have most of the music I like to listen to on my iPod. So, I mean, it's cool, but I just don't use it much.
Tenor: But you can listen to anything! It's a great way to discover new music, or other music by artists you like that you didn't know about!
Dad: Isn't that why we have Pandora?
Tenor: That was a low blow. You know darn well that when you listen to Pandora you can't pick whatever song you like. There's no way to listen to one specific song, or to repeat it forever if you want. Suppose a cool song is not on your iPod, and you want to listen to it a bunch of times. Then what, genius?
Dad: Isn't that why we have YouTube?
Tenor: Well, no. That is for cat videos and embarrassing your friends.
Dad: Look, I agree that Pandora with more control is cool, but the other problem is that there is almost too much music. I don't even know where to start! If I want to listen to something specific, I'll go to iTunes, and if I want to listen to some random new thing, I'll go to Pandora. And on the off chance that the song I want is neither of those places, it is probably on YouTube somewhere. So why do I need Spotify?
Tenor: You can share music with people on Facebook! You can listen to full operas that you are trying to learn! You can do cool searches, like by year or style! The playlist sharing/collaborating is worth the price of admission alone! Which, by the way, I must remind you is FREE! Get off your dang iTunes and move into the future, old man!
Dad: Yeah, yeah, fine. It's cool. It's the best thing ever. I'm sure if I sat at a computer all day I would use it like crazy, but as a stay at home dad, I am running around the house all day, not listening to cool music.
Tenor: Try searching for Mickey Mouse.
Dad: Why? What's that going to do? I...hmmmm. Hey, look! They have every song from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse!
Tenor: I knew you would be excited.
Dad: Okay, I was momentarily distracted, but I can still find all that stuff on YouTube.
Tenor: Oh, get over yourself. This is so much easier. Would you rather search YouTube every time you want to listen to a different Phineas & Ferb song, or have them all there in one playlist?
Dad: Fine, you win. Spotify is useful. But I have had an account for over a month and have opened it three times. The proof is right there. I like it, but it's not the game changer that everyone said it would be.
Tenor: That's because you are lame. That is not Spotify's fault. Do you still write letters to people on paper too?
Dad: Be quiet. I'm trying to listen to Goofy sing Upside Down Cyclin'.
Tenor: Did you just link to Spotify?
Dad: Be quiet.
And there you have it. It is now clear that Spotify is somewhat useful. And it is also mostly for cool people. Hopefully this was informative. And if you are not cool, I apologize. Be sure to tune in next time when we will try to debate something less cool.
Dad: Good morning, Tenor.
Tenor: Oh, it's you again.
Dad: Nice to see you too. So Spotify. What do you think?
Tenor: Are you kidding me? I love it! What's not to love? You just go online and listen to whatever you want, whenever you want it! You can't seriously tell me that you are against this!
Dad: No, I'm not against it. I just haven't found it compelling as I had hoped I would.
Tenor: Ok, so what's your problem, besides being lame?
Dad: Well, I think it's designed for people who are sitting at a desk all day, which I am not. I can't listen to it on my phone, unless I pay for it, and honestly, I pretty much have most of the music I like to listen to on my iPod. So, I mean, it's cool, but I just don't use it much.
Tenor: But you can listen to anything! It's a great way to discover new music, or other music by artists you like that you didn't know about!
Dad: Isn't that why we have Pandora?
Tenor: That was a low blow. You know darn well that when you listen to Pandora you can't pick whatever song you like. There's no way to listen to one specific song, or to repeat it forever if you want. Suppose a cool song is not on your iPod, and you want to listen to it a bunch of times. Then what, genius?
Dad: Isn't that why we have YouTube?
Tenor: Well, no. That is for cat videos and embarrassing your friends.
Dad: Look, I agree that Pandora with more control is cool, but the other problem is that there is almost too much music. I don't even know where to start! If I want to listen to something specific, I'll go to iTunes, and if I want to listen to some random new thing, I'll go to Pandora. And on the off chance that the song I want is neither of those places, it is probably on YouTube somewhere. So why do I need Spotify?
Tenor: You can share music with people on Facebook! You can listen to full operas that you are trying to learn! You can do cool searches, like by year or style! The playlist sharing/collaborating is worth the price of admission alone! Which, by the way, I must remind you is FREE! Get off your dang iTunes and move into the future, old man!
Dad: Yeah, yeah, fine. It's cool. It's the best thing ever. I'm sure if I sat at a computer all day I would use it like crazy, but as a stay at home dad, I am running around the house all day, not listening to cool music.
Tenor: Try searching for Mickey Mouse.
Dad: Why? What's that going to do? I...hmmmm. Hey, look! They have every song from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse!
Tenor: I knew you would be excited.
Dad: Okay, I was momentarily distracted, but I can still find all that stuff on YouTube.
Tenor: Oh, get over yourself. This is so much easier. Would you rather search YouTube every time you want to listen to a different Phineas & Ferb song, or have them all there in one playlist?
Dad: Fine, you win. Spotify is useful. But I have had an account for over a month and have opened it three times. The proof is right there. I like it, but it's not the game changer that everyone said it would be.
Tenor: That's because you are lame. That is not Spotify's fault. Do you still write letters to people on paper too?
Dad: Be quiet. I'm trying to listen to Goofy sing Upside Down Cyclin'.
Tenor: Did you just link to Spotify?
Dad: Be quiet.
And there you have it. It is now clear that Spotify is somewhat useful. And it is also mostly for cool people. Hopefully this was informative. And if you are not cool, I apologize. Be sure to tune in next time when we will try to debate something less cool.
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