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The Music in my Mind

Michael Leave a comment

I can’t wait for spring. I really need a new diversion. This winter I’ve spent a lot of time in front of the keyboard. Not this one typing out these missives. The musical one. It’s a diversion that I’ve spent more time with than I have in years. But then, I have more time now than I’ve had in years. I have to do something with it.

I fiddled with the piano for the first time about 55 years ago. You’d think with all that time I’d be pretty good at it. Honestly I’m just ok. I know how to play the notes but that’s not the same as how to make the music. It must have been about 54 years ago that I said to myself, “Self,” I said, “you should take up the tuba where you only have to play one note at a time to be good.” Even back then I recognized the limitation of my short and uncoordinated fingers.

Instead of seeking out a used tuba to practice on (which in hindsight was a good thing I didn’t since most of the helicon style tuba are larger than me) I gravitated to musical styles that didn’t require 14 notes played to be played in unison.

Over the years I got very good at plinking out one or two notes with my right hand and running scales with my left, all the while filling in three or four other instruments’ parts in my mind. And as long as I was alone I was pretty darn good. So good that all I needed was the melody to a song and some time to noodle around until I was able to figure out what chords went with it. Then I could amuse myself for hours rarely ever striking more than 2 or 3 keys at once.

But then I came across that song in my head that try as I might I couldn’t find the right tones on my own. So I broke down and bought sheet music for it. And there they were. The notes that I was looking for. Lots and lots of notes. More of them on ledger lines than on the staff proper. Written in the key of A Flat. In 6/8 time. Allegretto. And that’s just how it sounded in my mind.

It was just that my body wanted to play it in the Key of C in common time and a bit more ritardando. Just like me. <Sigh> I can’t wait for spring.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Spring Up To Research

Michael Leave a comment

Remember that Saturday night last fall when an extra hour was tossed out there to be used as we pleased? Maybe you used it sleeping, maybe you saw half a movie, perhaps you spent 60 minutes on a midnight shopping spree. It could be that you were ahead of the curve and drank like you meant it. Whatever you did with it, they want it back this Sunday morning.

A good number of Americans on Monday will be desperately trying to remember if they changed their clocks early Sunday morning and if they did it the right way. For us that would be ahead an hour thus making 2am actually 3am without even having to say “abracadabra.” However, I’m guessing that most of us will be muttering “Spring Ahead, Fall Back” or “Spring Forward, Fall Behind” before, during, and after the un-ceremonial clock setting.

About 70% of the world’s citizenry will be similarly mumbling something sometime this spring as we move into or out of Daylight Saving Time. A big chunk of those mumblers will be somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere but there are quite many of them south of the Equator also. Between now and early May people around the globe will be waking up some random Monday wondering if they will be on time for work.

As near as I can tell from my online research, there are no countries that lie on the Equator observing any sort of time change. To be thorough about this I am willing to accept the challenge and spend a summer sailing to as many tropical islands as possible to confirm this hypothesis limited only by the funds available to me through grants, endowments, and/or crowd funding.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

In Like a Lyin’

Michael Leave a comment

March may traditionally come in like a lion but the first week of this month had me thinking of all the official lies we have had forced upon us. Damn those government bureaucrats. They’ve taken four shots per bottle away from us in the name of world-wide conformity and nobody has said a thing about it. Clearly I am talking about the metric system. Either that or else clearly, I’ve completely lost it this time.

Once upon a time, in fact once upon the 1890s as the temperance movement was gaining ground, laws were being passed to permit sales of alcohol by bottles “to go” rather than by the drink “for here” to discourage people from drinking outside the home and thus appearing drunk in public. Better to be drunk in front of family I suppose. Anyway, the lowest legal amount one could sale for removal from the premises was four-fifths of a quart, aka 25 2/3 ounces or one fifth of a gallon. Thus a fifth was born.

Then, once upon another time, this one in fact once upon the mid 1970s, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms further reduced that commercial package to a standard volume of 750ml, a loss of an additional 7ml. Why, after three-quarters of a century of people losing almost 6 ounces of good whiskey per bottle did the aforementioned bureaucrats see fit to lop off enough to make for a full four shot loss (based on a 1-1/2 ounce shot)? Because President Gerald Ford signed the Metric Conversion Act and ATF wasn’t going to be remembered as slackers when people looked back during the next century to see how terrific life became because of the metrication of America. (And now when somebody brings up Gerald Ford’s accomplishments as President, you’ll have something to contribute.) (You’re welcome.)

That’s why every year when I hear somebody trot out that old saw “March, in like a lion, out like a lamb” (guffaw, guffaw), my brain translates that to “in like a lyin’” you-know-what and mourns the loss of all that good bourbon.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Who Paid You Today?

Michael Leave a comment

I was reading about the top employers in each state – because I have that kind of time. A pattern showed up and to be honest, I’m not sure if it’s a disturbing pattern or patently disturbing.

Two are two business types that are the dominant employers in these United States. Those are universities and their affiliated healthcare systems, and Wal-Mart. You say you’re sick of hearing about Wal-Mart. That’s ok because there are plenty of hospitals out there to take care of that for you.

Where are the entrepreneurs who are not relying on your health insurance or your paycheck from those relying on your health insurance?  There are in the far reaches of the country. In Alaska, the Anchorage Airport ranks number one. It is also number one in the world for floatplanes. Pratt and Whitney dominates employment in Connecticut. That’s where they make airplane jet engines that all of the Boeing employees use to make it the top employer in Washington. Maine’s biggest human resourcer is the Hannaford supermarket chain. Food is also big in New Jersey where the ShopRite subsidiary Wakefern Food Corp. hires more Jersey boys and girls than any other in the state. Nevada has the country’s biggest share of gambling revenue and the MGM Grand hires the most employees in that state.

In a few states health care manages to lead employment figures without a university feeding their researchers. Those are Delaware, Rhode Island, Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Colorado, and Utah.  Kansas, Hawaii, Wisconsin, Nebraska, and New York have university systems without affiliated hospitals.  Those guys should get together or risk going through the record books with asterisks next to them.

Clearly I have too much time on my hands.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Lizing Leapards

Michael Leave a comment

It’s nice to know that there are some things you can absolutely count on. At least you can count on them once every 4 years or so.

Every 4 years we’ll show off a national spectacle, some would say a national embarrassment, and try to elect a President. We know that’s really not real. Whoever is to be the next President has already been decided. Eventually the marketing department will let us in on it too.

Every 4 years we show off a worldwide spectacle, some would say a spectacular spectacle. That would be the Olympics, or as those marketers would prefer, the Games of the XXXI Olympiad. (And you thought Roman numerals only use was in counting Super Bowls. Ha!) Of course that is presuming Brazil gets a handle on the Zika virus.

Every 4 years we also show off the Winter Olympics. But not this year. Used to be that we held summer and winter games in the same year but then somebody (probably one of those marketing groups) decided it would be better for the world to split them up. We still hold the Winter Olympics (officially the Olympic Winter Games) every four years but not for another two of them.

Every 4 years FIFA holds the World Cup Finals round. This isn’t that year. There are preliminary games scheduled last year, this year, and next year. The next finals round will be in 2018.

Every 4 years I start a new blog. Actually I started this blog 4 years and 4 months ago. So if I was to start a new blog it would be a quadrennial-triannual event. That’s too confusing. And even though there have been drastic changes in my life over the last 4 years and 4 months I think this blog still serves its purpose. (If you, like me, are unsure of that purpose check out Blog Post #1 Really? Real Reality? November 7, 2011.)

You might say that it suits me. I’ll keep this one.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Yes, It Is a Number – A BIG Number

Michael Leave a comment

I had a terrific post ready to upload but then that old lady happened. It was supposed to be about getting older but how everyone says, “Hey, it’s just a number.” In a way, this post is still about that. Let me start at the beginning.

I was at the store just as the heavens opened with a good old-fashioned downpour. Hundreds of gallons of water poured out of the sky every minute. And that was at its slowest. Then, it stopped. As quick as it started it just stopped. Unpredictable spring weather. I hobbled my way to the car, loaded up the groceries, backed out of the space, and turned toward the exit.

And there she was. Marching down the middle of the road, head bent over, shuffling in that gait you have to be around 90 to master, was that old lady. She was every one of 90 years, not looking left, nor right, nor straight ahead. She looked nowhere and at nothing. And she headed straight for me.

The last place I wanted to see her was splayed across my hood as some macabre ornament. But she continued heading straight for me. I mean straight. She didn’t veer a fraction of a degree to either side. She was walking right to me. The impact was going to crush her. Her bones were going to drop out of her skin and she was going to collapse in a heap like a worn out building imploded to make way for a new one. I would be guilty of running over an old lady. And I was stopped!

I had to warn her. I tried to connect with her telepathically telling her to look up. Either I didn’t get through or she just ignored my call because she kept her head down and kept on coming. I rolled down the window and waved furiously. She walked on. I called to her. “Yo, Lady!” Nothing. Finally I decided she had left me no choice. I had to use my horn. I had hoped to avoid that. I was certain that the sudden honk would startle her into a heart attack and then I would be guilty of oldladycide.

As gently as I could, I pushed down on the horn button in the steering wheel and was awarded with a short “…beep…..” Still nothing. To myself I said, “Self, give it to her,” and smashed down on that picture of a horn and let go with a “HOONNNNKKKKKKKK!”

Finally, just steps away, she looked up, saw me sitting there, snarled at me (yes, snarled), then flipped me the bird.

Oh it’s a number all right.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Different Potpourri du Different Jour

Michael Leave a comment

Yesterday completed the year-long fundraising effort by Penn State’s Pan-Hellenic Council to benefit the Four Diamonds Fund at Hershey Medical Center children’s cancer unit – or more lovingly known by the PSU crowd as “Thon.” The pinnacle event is the weekend long dance marathon with the fundraising reveal wrapping up the festivities. This year Thon raised over $9.77 million dollars for the charity, still the world’s largest student run philanthropy. Thon typically runs on about a 4% administrative cost. That means that 96 cents of each one of those dollars goes to the charity. Compare this to the American Cancer Society, no slouch in fund-raising themselves, who manage to work on about 84% costs netting their charity efforts 16 cents for each dollar raised. It would do us well to remember that the student can sometimes be the teacher.

I was standing in the super market line and saw this blurb on one of the magazines that festoon the check-out lines. “Lose weight and gain height with new diet!” It went on to claim one could lose 5 pounds in weight and gain 2 inches in height in the first week. It could just be me but I’m suspecting some monkey business with those figures. I think it is quite possible to lose 5 pounds in a week but I can’t figure out any diet that adds heights, unless it’s to eat anything but eat it while being stretched on a rack.

Speaking of diets, a different cover screamed at me that I could lose weight just by cutting out sugar. I’ll remember that while I’m gorging on french fries and cole slaw while scarfing up double bacon cheeseburgers and washing it all down with several bottles of beer. If figure if I do that 4 or 5 times a week I can positively disappear by the end of next month.

Speaking of french fries, shouldn’t it really be frenched fries referring to manner in which they are cut. What became of the “ed?” I wonder if that was what the potato lost when it eliminated sugar from its diet.

And speaking of nothing that we’ve already spoken of, Spring is really around the corner. It was a balmy(!) 55 degrees this afternoon and I spotted my first non-fat guy wearing shorts. There is no surer sign that spring is here.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Does “NEW” Hate You Too?

Michael Leave a comment

Is it just me? I hate new stuff. No, I don’t live in the past. No, I don’t get buyer’s remorse. No, I’m not anti-progress. (Would that be antigress?) It’s that new stuff hates me so I just return the sentiment.

Let me start from the beginning. I got a new pan couple of weeks ago. I needed a good, all-purpose, use for anything, go from stove top to oven, can’t hurt it no matter how hard you try pan. So I got one. A top ranked, best buy, do it all carbon steel pan. It does everything it should do. It seasoned easily. Nothing sticks to it. Its construction was clearly well thought with a welded handle so there are no interior handle rivets and that handle is a perfect length and angle so it fits comfortably on top of the stove or inside the oven. It’s everything I wanted – and it hates me. It heats much faster than my old pan so I burnt everything I put into it for the first three days. It’s not too heavy but heavy enough that when I was using an older smaller pan and flipped an omelet I over compensated for the weight I didn’t have at the end of my arm and ended up having to clean half-cooked egg off of a textured ceiling. (While we’re at it, I hate textured ceilings also.)

Give me another two or three weeks and I’ll love my new pan but right now it hates me so I hate it. And I figured out I go through this with everything. I’ll get a new TV and I spend the first month with it adjusting the audio and picture settings. I got a new keyboard and experimented with every tone, tempo, and special effect before finally settling on the default settings. My new car is coming up on two years old and I still haven’t found just the right position for the seatback. New shoes – soles are too slippery. New book – pages stick together. New tablet – reset bookmarks. New pen – it’s probably easier to never write again! Seriously, is it just me?

Antigress? I think I’ll submit that as my nomination for best new word of 2016. I should start using it more now sto that by December I’ll be more comfortable with it.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

 

Potpourri du Jour

Michael 1 Comment

I had a heck of a time figuring out what to write for today’s post. Not because the possibilities were endless, let me tell you. In truth, they were somewhat limited but terribly diverse.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, or as some people prefer, St. Valentine’s Day. One would think referring to the Saint (or Saints if you wish since there were actually three of them) gives the holiday more credence. This is both true and misleading. The Roman Catholic Church removed St. Valentine Day from its calendar in 1969. They are still Saints, just not with a specific feast day. Thus yesterday officially was Valentine’s Day.

The fact that those guys were real people who were canonized has made Valentine’s Day a holiday non-grata in some parts of the world whatever you want to call it. There are places where Christian traditions are seen as contrary to other religions and religious traditions.  You’d also think that the church and state separatist nuts in the U.S. would also prefer plain Valentine’s Day to St. Valentine’s Day and perhaps they do because you never hear anything about the ACLU suing anybody over giving away cards and chocolate without a Saint being involved. Then again they seem to get just as drunk as every else on St. Patrick’s Day so who knows what they think.

Another one of potential topics for today is the abrupt end of commercialism of holidays including Valentine’s Day. We might have a 10 or 12 week marketing run-up to the holiday but once it gets here, it’s done for. Just a day before television, radio, print, and electronic ads touted candies, flowers, fruit, jewelry, even pizza for the one you love. Today those same ad spots were pushing life insurance, disposable diapers, tires, and toilet cleaners.  After noon you couldn’t even find a decent rom-com without downloading it from a ppv service. Where did the love go?

Another possible topic for today’s post is another American holiday that isn’t – Presidents’ Day. Officially today is Washington’s Birthday. Even though was have a firm date for George’s birth, February 22, we don’t celebrate it then because the Uniform Monday Holiday Act of 1968 pushed four federal holidays (Washington’s Birthday, Memorial Day, Columbus Day, and Veterans’ Day) from their fixed day designations to specific Mondays thus ensuring at least 4 three day weekends for federal workers. (Which calls to mind, how many people work for the federal government? About half of them. Ha, ha, ha! Geez, I crack myself up!)

Anyway, when that happened although nobody of any importance, certainly nobody in Congress, changed anything else about Washington’s Birthday. Still, all of a sudden it became Presidents’ Day. Some people claimed it was the perfect time to recognize the contributions of all of the U. S. Presidents and their accomplishments. If you ask me, I think the only President we ever had who was really cognizant of his responsibility to the country and its citizens was George Washington. Everyone who came after has been less respectful than the one before until we have now reached the pinnacle of disrespect by being given the choice between one to the current crop of Democrat idiots versus one of the current crop of Republican idiots. And they expect us to make that choice without throwing up all over the ballot.

Now that I’ve given this all some thought I don’t think any of these are worth the effort. Good thing today’s culture makes disdain so effortless.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Milk and Bread and Toilet Paper – Oh My

Michael Leave a comment

A week ago I was writing about a restaurant with a sign up that said “Patio Open.” This week, that patio is covered with snow. There are times I truly hate February. But I have my milk, bread, and toilet paper so I know I’m set for the rest of the month.

I’m sure there are super-markets across the country, no, across the world that are overrun with mad shoppers a flake short of looters hoarding all the milk, bread, and toilet paper at the first hint of a storm. But here we can actually walk that particular cat back to a real crisis – sort of.

It was in 1950, the day after Thanksgiving. The forecast was dire, 12 inches of snow over the next 24 hours. The weathermen (remember, 1950, no weatherwomen then) were wrong. Over three feet fell over those 24 hours. Over the next few days the locals dealt with it. The snow came, emergency services served, and people existed on their Thanksgiving leftovers.

The weekend came and went and so did the leftovers. Probably because of those leftovers, the city grocers had fairly well stocked shelves come Monday. So well stocked they were that one of the local papers headlined how well things were going with “City’s Food Supply Is in Good Shape.” The story was slugged “There Is Plenty for Everybody…” That was a relief, but rather short-lived. The article’s second sentence began, “Milk was the one shortage that has hit all sections…”  The sentences that followed noted specific abundances, praised workers who showed up, and in general commented positively on how there is still plenty of food for everybody. Except for that milk thing. Oh, and bread which had been “doled out in some stores.” Remember, 1950. World War II rationing wasn’t that long ago. “Doled out” did not conjure up images of “plenty for everybody.”

Then to make matters worse the story continued that heads of families should buy “only what you need on a day-to-day schedule in order to have enough of everything to go around.” That doesn’t sound like “plenty for everybody” at all. No sir, not at all.  No milk, no bread and here are families who just spent a weekend of every meal that included leftover turkey gravy. And those were some big families (remember, 1950, baby boomers). If they needed enough of anything to go around it was going to be toilet paper. And it was going to be soon!

Ever since then, no matter what the forecast, if there was any snow in it then as God as our witness we will NEVER run out of milk, bread, or toilet paper! And that’s why today when I stopped in the bakery for a loaf of bread all that was left were a few mini-Italians and a couple donuts. The little cooler had no milk and they don’t even sell toilet paper. And yes, yesterday’s forecast called for 1 to 3 inches by tomorrow.

Fortunately I really don’t drink much milk. I myself am a mini-Italian so I was quite satisfied with the available bread. Since the inception of places like Sam’s and Cosco I can open my own toilet paper franchise.

The donuts? They were a plus. I figure you can never have too much of anything with sprinkles, and if I didn’t buy them somebody else would.

I can hardly wait for the next snowfall.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?