I can't believe it. Except for editing, the dastardly exam is finished. Roughly 60 pages, computer-generated graphs on each page in color, lots of calculus mumbo-jumbo...100 hours of effort from the group and we're done!
Suh-weet!
Bedtime!
9.30.2007
9.25.2007
State Fair Album
Here's the rest of the not-snarky album from the State Fair...don't steal them, but look your fill!
Here's one that I played with...what do you think?
Here's one that I played with...what do you think?
These videos are hysterical!!!
Birds!
My private message to the creator: What's with the birds already? Why are they evenly spaced on the wire? And why don't they fly past 36th Street?
Last night, I sallied forth from my cave o' calculus-based economics (yes, I'm still working on the exam) to purchase sustenance (read: MEAT!) from wally world. The parking lot of the mall and Wal-Mart were swarmed under by black birds (sorry, ornithology is NOT my forte), and I felt like someone out of Hitchcock's movie dodging divebombing birds. I'm talking not a few birds that seemed to converge, I'm talking every black bird in a four-state region converged. On my way home, I was stopped at a red light and was looking about at the overhead wires that were COVERED in birds...each one evenly-spaced from the others. (What causes that?!?)
Obviously the birds weren't indigenous to Oklahoma: as a new bird would land on the wire, the others would scoot over like little dominoes to make room and to re-align themselves. Had they actually been native to Oklahoma, the incoming birds would have circled indefinitely until one bird looked like it was ready to take off, then five birds would swarm the empty spot while the other birds were oblivious and didn't make room for the new bird. Additionally, native birds would have failed to signal their imminent landing and have squawked self-righteously at the birds who did obey the rules of the skywire.
Another question: why were all the birds east of 36th Street? Is there an invisible bird net that I missed? Seriously! Once I made it past the birds on a wire at 36th and Main, I was home free. Not a bird to be found for miles.
Someone has a sick sense of humor.
Last night, I sallied forth from my cave o' calculus-based economics (yes, I'm still working on the exam) to purchase sustenance (read: MEAT!) from wally world. The parking lot of the mall and Wal-Mart were swarmed under by black birds (sorry, ornithology is NOT my forte), and I felt like someone out of Hitchcock's movie dodging divebombing birds. I'm talking not a few birds that seemed to converge, I'm talking every black bird in a four-state region converged. On my way home, I was stopped at a red light and was looking about at the overhead wires that were COVERED in birds...each one evenly-spaced from the others. (What causes that?!?)
Obviously the birds weren't indigenous to Oklahoma: as a new bird would land on the wire, the others would scoot over like little dominoes to make room and to re-align themselves. Had they actually been native to Oklahoma, the incoming birds would have circled indefinitely until one bird looked like it was ready to take off, then five birds would swarm the empty spot while the other birds were oblivious and didn't make room for the new bird. Additionally, native birds would have failed to signal their imminent landing and have squawked self-righteously at the birds who did obey the rules of the skywire.
Another question: why were all the birds east of 36th Street? Is there an invisible bird net that I missed? Seriously! Once I made it past the birds on a wire at 36th and Main, I was home free. Not a bird to be found for miles.
Someone has a sick sense of humor.
9.22.2007
Another State Fair
...and more pictures to boot. Here are a few of MANY that I took tonight. Enjoy.
(yes, the snarky ones will be up in a separate post...)
How many times in my life will I get to take pictures of feathers?
From the outside looking in
I Want to be Just Like My Daddy...
Lonesome
(yes, the snarky ones will be up in a separate post...)
How many times in my life will I get to take pictures of feathers?
From the outside looking in
I Want to be Just Like My Daddy...
Lonesome
9.21.2007
Life
I may be sparse in blogging over the next few days. Life is getting in the way. Too much to do, too little time. This "to do" involves unpacking an apartment, getting ready for the big bell gig, and finishing a 50+ page ECON exam.
Stay tuned!
Stay tuned!
9.20.2007
Ride the SLUT
Hah! Seattle has unveiled plans for a new trolley system. 60 million dollars, serving 1.3 square miles.
WOOT!
And it's name? The South Lake Union Trolley. Obviously a well-thought-out name.
The South Lake region of Seattle is in the geographic center of town, and includes many of the older homes in the Cascades neighborhood. One gentleman who hails from my blessed state now lives in Seattle and has devised a plan to profit from the stupidity of the local g-slugs.
Go visit him and buy a t-shirt.
So many tasteless jokes that I could offer, but we all know that I'd never stoop that low. *cough*
And according to the guy, the new name being considered due to the unfortunate acronym is the Seattle Streetcar...um, SS? The last time the SS put people on trains, the outcome was less than desirable.
WOOT!
And it's name? The South Lake Union Trolley. Obviously a well-thought-out name.
The South Lake region of Seattle is in the geographic center of town, and includes many of the older homes in the Cascades neighborhood. One gentleman who hails from my blessed state now lives in Seattle and has devised a plan to profit from the stupidity of the local g-slugs.
Go visit him and buy a t-shirt.
So many tasteless jokes that I could offer, but we all know that I'd never stoop that low. *cough*
And according to the guy, the new name being considered due to the unfortunate acronym is the Seattle Streetcar...um, SS? The last time the SS put people on trains, the outcome was less than desirable.
On ethics
In today's world, it seems that there are people with ethics, and there are people with ethics. You know who I'm talking about. The people you encounter on a regular basis whose personal morals loosely resemble those of a used car salesman. Or a loan shark. Or your great-uncle "Little Joey." Since this particular ethical breach could earn this person a lifetime enrollment on my personal if-the-Mafia-came-to-my- door-taking-requests hit list, it is only fitting to dub this person as "The Weasel."
The Weasel is a real estate agent. Recently, her nefarious dealings have included screwing her best friend out of her house. No, really. The friend was going to be foreclosed upon, and they struck a handshake deal (it's hard to shake hands with a snake as you will see) that the friend would deed the property, valued at roughly $25K, to The Weasel, make payments to her for it, and after the financial situation had gone away, The Weasel would sell the house back to the friend at a small percentage profit for her trouble. Easy, right?
Wrong. When the time came to sell the house back to the friend, The Weasel got a crooked pal to reassess the house to be worth just shy of $80K. (Understanding this house is approximately 1000 sq. feet in a bad part of a bad little town...and our big house in the nice part of town just barely cleared $80K...) Since the friend was having trouble making the $25K, she ended up living in one of our rental houses (she is the assistant to the lawyer I used to work for, and a friend of the family) when someone else bought her house and The Weasel had her evicted.
Fast forward to last Friday.
Ma gets a phone call from a random town resident asking whether she should take the money to her or to The Weasel to get the quit claim deed. Ma asks, "What money?!? What deed?!?" and finds out that apparently The Weasel sold this woman and her husband one of our vacant lots. In April. They had given The Weasel a $300 commission for the lot, along with $100 monthly payments since APRIL, and Ma and I had yet to see a penny. Ma asked her if there was a contract on the lot, and the girl said there was, to which Ma told her that it must be fraudulent since she had not signed a contract on that lot, especially with The Weasel, since the lot was actually listed with another realtor. The girl said that she had her receipts that were received in exchange for the payments that specifically state the money was going toward the purchase of our lot. Hmm.
Ma calls The Weasel to see what was up, and this was roughly the conversation that ensued:
Not ten minutes later, our friend from the law office (yes, the one The Weasel screwed) calls and says, "Well, I hear The Weasel is at it again." Apparently the people buying the lot went to the attorney complaining about Ma and I because we were reneging on our contract to sell the lot. Friend knew that this didn't sound like our normal M.O. and called to find out what happened. Ma roughly told her what she told The Weasel (as in every other statement was "There is no contract!") and finally the people understood that we'd sell them the lot if they would give us the full amount (they have the money on hand) and start the whole process over. They went ape because they thought they'd lost their money to The Weasel.
Not my problem. Either way it goes, we get rid of the lot and get our money in exchange. But I'd sure like to be a fly on the wall when the paralegal and the couple sue the pants off The Weasel in the kangaroo court that the AD Judge (another business acquaintance that knows my family VERY well) runs in the blessed little town.
Let the games begin.
The Weasel is a real estate agent. Recently, her nefarious dealings have included screwing her best friend out of her house. No, really. The friend was going to be foreclosed upon, and they struck a handshake deal (it's hard to shake hands with a snake as you will see) that the friend would deed the property, valued at roughly $25K, to The Weasel, make payments to her for it, and after the financial situation had gone away, The Weasel would sell the house back to the friend at a small percentage profit for her trouble. Easy, right?
Wrong. When the time came to sell the house back to the friend, The Weasel got a crooked pal to reassess the house to be worth just shy of $80K. (Understanding this house is approximately 1000 sq. feet in a bad part of a bad little town...and our big house in the nice part of town just barely cleared $80K...) Since the friend was having trouble making the $25K, she ended up living in one of our rental houses (she is the assistant to the lawyer I used to work for, and a friend of the family) when someone else bought her house and The Weasel had her evicted.
Fast forward to last Friday.
Ma gets a phone call from a random town resident asking whether she should take the money to her or to The Weasel to get the quit claim deed. Ma asks, "What money?!? What deed?!?" and finds out that apparently The Weasel sold this woman and her husband one of our vacant lots. In April. They had given The Weasel a $300 commission for the lot, along with $100 monthly payments since APRIL, and Ma and I had yet to see a penny. Ma asked her if there was a contract on the lot, and the girl said there was, to which Ma told her that it must be fraudulent since she had not signed a contract on that lot, especially with The Weasel, since the lot was actually listed with another realtor. The girl said that she had her receipts that were received in exchange for the payments that specifically state the money was going toward the purchase of our lot. Hmm.
Ma calls The Weasel to see what was up, and this was roughly the conversation that ensued:
Ma: "Did you sell our lot?"OMG. Could The Weasel really be so stupid to not see any ethical implications to taking money without a contract?!?
TW: "Yes."
Ma: "Is there a contract?"
TW: "Yes."
Ma: "Is there a reason that I've not seen the contract I've supposedly signed?"
TW: "It's in my desk drawer. I was planning to bring it over." (When???)
Ma: "You do realize that the lot is listed with someone else, therefore you can't sell it, right?"
TW: "But it's already sold!"
Ma: "But there's no contract!"
TW: "I have the money too. It's on top of the contract in my desk drawer." (Why???)
Ma: "But there's no contract!"
TW: "Well, I was planning to give you the money when I gave them the contract."
Ma: "But there IS NO CONTRACT!"
TW: "Sure there is. It's in my desk drawer!"
Ma: "You can't sell a lot that's listed with someone else."
TW: "I probably shouldn't have taken the commission."
Ma: "YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TAKEN ANY MONEY! THERE IS NO CONTRACT!"
Not ten minutes later, our friend from the law office (yes, the one The Weasel screwed) calls and says, "Well, I hear The Weasel is at it again." Apparently the people buying the lot went to the attorney complaining about Ma and I because we were reneging on our contract to sell the lot. Friend knew that this didn't sound like our normal M.O. and called to find out what happened. Ma roughly told her what she told The Weasel (as in every other statement was "There is no contract!") and finally the people understood that we'd sell them the lot if they would give us the full amount (they have the money on hand) and start the whole process over. They went ape because they thought they'd lost their money to The Weasel.
Not my problem. Either way it goes, we get rid of the lot and get our money in exchange. But I'd sure like to be a fly on the wall when the paralegal and the couple sue the pants off The Weasel in the kangaroo court that the AD Judge (another business acquaintance that knows my family VERY well) runs in the blessed little town.
Let the games begin.
9.19.2007
International Talk Like a Pirate Day
Today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Make me proud.
~~~
This day gives me unequivocal license to tell this joke as many times as possible without repercussions.
*ba doom ching*
~~~
This day gives me unequivocal license to tell this joke as many times as possible without repercussions.
A pirate walks into a bar. Normal looking pirate, he is...hook on the hand... eyepatch... ship's steering wheel attached to the groin?
He goes to the bar, hoists himself (and the wheel) onto a barstool, and orders a drink. The bartender asks if he knows that he has a steering wheel tied to his groin, to which the pirate replies,
"Aargh. I know, matey. Drives me nuts."
*ba doom ching*
...and now for what you've all been waiting for...
My life since Friday has been crazy. Less polite people than I would have called it something along the lines of "Mongolian clusterfsck." I don't even know where to start...
Yesterday was the state ceremony that I work on, and it went off without a hitch, except for me running over my foot with a loaded cart and taking half the skin off my heel...but that's another problem entirely.
I'm not sure where to even start with the posting of the weekend's events, other than doing shorts on each story with their own "title." So here goes:
~~~
Jailbait
So my mom's friend pulls up to the house with his 16' trailer to help me move. He can't stay, as his kids are showing cows at the state fair, but just as he arrives and gets things around my "brother" pulls up behind him, talking on a cell phone. No big deal. Wait. Cell phone? On Saturday? At this hour?!?
He gets out of the truck, walks over to me and says, "Crap. My [real] brother is in the Bugscuffle County Jail. I've gotta go bail him out." I do a 180 turn and hollered over to my mom's friend, (whose primary job is a bail bondsman), "Hey! Bubba! We need your help!" ...in 25 years, the first time I've had to ask to use his services...we ended up not needing them, but still. I must say that of all the times that Sparky could have landed himself in a situation from which he needed sprung, his timing is impeccable.
Manuel
Many people were in attendance for my move. 11 people total helped me move, and I'm here to tell ya, I'm in their debt. No way would I have made it through the weekend without them.
One such person was Manuel. He showed up at my new apartment just after we got there. It was a matter of logistics that brought him around--you know how it is--you're on the top floor, the hammer is on the bottom floor and you're holding a half a dresser with nowhere to go...then *da dum* Manuel to the rescue. Just yell for Manuel and Sparky et al. comes a-running.
Manuel Labór...don't leave home without him.
Tho when you're a thoprano that lithpth, you look like an flaming imbethile in front of your peerth...
My friend and I went to eat Saturday night, and she told me of a friend who is getting an advanced degree in singing ... and she has a lisp. Um, has anyone ever thought to tell the woman that she won't be able to pay the rent by singing opera with a lisp? Change careers, lady!"Treeth on the mountainth"??? Any other aria that has an "s" anywhere in it? Prithleth. :-)
~~~
The Phone Call
We all know of Angelique (from whom I received an incredibly bizarre email that I will share later), but on Saturday I got a call from another family friend who wants me to do some handbell work for his church. Come to find out, he's now a she. What is this with my acquaintances?!?
~~~
Tonight when I get home, I'm going straight to bed. I deserve it.
9.17.2007
Hi, I'm a drummer.
This was a post in draft form for the last week, but technology has thwarted my plan again. So here's the post that should have gone up last week, and eventually, hopefully, there will be a rockin' video to accompany it.
There will be several posts on the topic of yesterday's activities, and as I am working on getting them up (there will be snark, commentary, and pictures, so keep an eye out!) I will leave you with this amazing piece of drum-ness. Listen for the bass drum rolls for the second half of the video that he maintains with his feet while his hands go wild.
Rocks my world, Tris does.
9.13.2007
Look who waltzed in...
or "ZOMG!"...
or "What to do when a shemale surprises you at work" ...
Well? What do you do? Me? I performed trout mouth.
Yes, trout mouth. You know it. It's that feeling where your jaw is locked in a full open position while flapping, making you loosely resemble a beached whale.
I was calmly working at my computer (yes, doing ACTUAL work) thinking to myself, "Self, you really need to update your blog." Then that little voice in my brain said, "We would, but there's been precious little to blog about other than how to pack a box."
Anyone who knows me that this internal conversation was the beginning of the end. Just as I got to "...box" my office door opened, and--
It's a bird!
It's a plane!
It's---
Angelique!
In person! In my office! Yes, I took those photos ladies and gents! Parading all over the office.
*I want that waistline. Damn him/her.
or "What to do when a shemale surprises you at work" ...
Well? What do you do? Me? I performed trout mouth.
Yes, trout mouth. You know it. It's that feeling where your jaw is locked in a full open position while flapping, making you loosely resemble a beached whale.
I was calmly working at my computer (yes, doing ACTUAL work) thinking to myself, "Self, you really need to update your blog." Then that little voice in my brain said, "We would, but there's been precious little to blog about other than how to pack a box."
Anyone who knows me that this internal conversation was the beginning of the end. Just as I got to "...box" my office door opened, and--
It's a bird!
It's a plane!
It's---
Angelique!
In person! In my office! Yes, I took those photos ladies and gents! Parading all over the office.
*I want that waistline. Damn him/her.
9.10.2007
Assorted Midway Photography
Here are a few pics that I took on the Midway of the Kansas State Fair. I was playing with my camera settings, so the blurry ones are just for color, but I thought they were cool enough to put up here just to remind you of your youth... ;-) (Click on the photos for full size.)
Chicago Concert/State Fair Commentary
Mom, Dave, and I went to Kansas yesterday afternoon to see Chicago play at the Kansas State Fair...WOW, what a time (take that for what you will...). On a S2C scale, I give them a 9.25. The first half of the concert was shaky, but without Jimmy there (he and Walt both had subs playing for them), some of the energy (or maybe the pelvic thrusting that gives the band a pop) was AWOL. After the sun went down, and the sound issues were resolved, they rocked the Grandstands!
The concert venue (aka STATE FAIR) was even more bizarre than I expected. The fair (though it was a state fair) was in a small town and seemed to resemble a county fair more than what one would expect. This man's attire seemed to sum up the event:
The people there seemed to have all their teeth, but seemed to be a little off-kilter (of course I didn't photograph the "normal" ones...there's not a good story there!)...
This car (what do you call this? A car-saic?) was at the entrance to the state fair...notice the skinny markers that run along the indentions in the bumper...
There were only about 2,000 people at the concert, and we sat right in front of the sound booth, so the view was good (except for this...the couple in front of us):
Hmm, maybe their hair attracted them to the other...just bad.
Here are some random band shots that were pretty decent:
Tris Imboden
Bill Champlin
Keith Howland
Jason Scheff
Full stage shot of Free
The concert venue (aka STATE FAIR) was even more bizarre than I expected. The fair (though it was a state fair) was in a small town and seemed to resemble a county fair more than what one would expect. This man's attire seemed to sum up the event:
The people there seemed to have all their teeth, but seemed to be a little off-kilter (of course I didn't photograph the "normal" ones...there's not a good story there!)...
This car (what do you call this? A car-saic?) was at the entrance to the state fair...notice the skinny markers that run along the indentions in the bumper...
There were only about 2,000 people at the concert, and we sat right in front of the sound booth, so the view was good (except for this...the couple in front of us):
Hmm, maybe their hair attracted them to the other...just bad.
Here are some random band shots that were pretty decent:
Tris Imboden
Bill Champlin
Keith Howland
Jason Scheff
Full stage shot of Free9.08.2007
Incoherence
I know that I've been uncharacteristically lacking in snark on ye ole blog here of late, but I've been taking out frustrations on moving boxes. I'm moving next weekend, and the remainder of this weekend will be spent sleeping, packing, playing in church, and road tripping to see Chicago (yes, again) at the Kansas State Fair. WOOT!
More posted on Monday.
Have a splendiferous weekend. No, really.*
*Oh, and beat the hell out of Miami. Boomer Sooner!
More posted on Monday.
Have a splendiferous weekend. No, really.*
*Oh, and beat the hell out of Miami. Boomer Sooner!
Wherever you are in life...
Here's a song for you (you may even know that I'm talking to you. Yes, you.)...if you ever drop by.
9.06.2007
Saying Goodbye to a Master
Luciano Pavarotti died this morning. Although the mortals are crying, the angels are singing. I can think of no better homage than this woman has written. Read, listen, and remember.
Nessun Dorma
Nessun Dorma
9.05.2007
*BRAIN BLEACH ALERT*
There's a first time for everything.
I must admit that last night was the first time I'd ever seen someone who could use their ass for a carpenter's square. The mullet just adds class.
Don't eat at Taco Bell. This could be you.
I must admit that last night was the first time I'd ever seen someone who could use their ass for a carpenter's square. The mullet just adds class.
Don't eat at Taco Bell. This could be you.
9.04.2007
A moment of *profound* introspection
Some people would call my bluff on this whole post, but you and I know who you are and just shut it, OK?
With a loud voice that is usually talking/singing/inflicting wisdom upon others, sometimes it is missed, but as a musician, usually my soul speaks loudest through song. The tonality and timbre wrought by my hands speak louder than my voice, and tell more about me than my snarky anecdotes.
Usually weather is a moderate determinant of my mood/choice of music, and the change from summer to fall always makes me maudlin. Autumn is my favorite season--the crisp air, the bite of the clear, cold evenings before they become the norm, the unshakable feeling that another year is marching to a close (usually without me)--the former make me happy, and the latter makes me sad. I spend a great deal of time/energy between October and December contemplating meaning, purpose, and idealism. Several who know me well have noted the difference in my attitude in the fall, going into the holidays, and have mentioned it. Now it's (sort of) explained.
This morning, I was driving to work through the early-morning pre-autumn haze zoning to a soundtrack that in turns seems to be rousing or soothing depending on the situation. Those that know me well would recognize the soundtrack; those who don't would likely not understand. This morning, one song in particular spoke to me as purely as if it were my own. It echoed my feelings toward the day -- toward the season. The keening wails at the beginning, countered by pure melodic tonality. The shape of the melody, while using rhythm to suspend reality and forward motion. The subtle fading from tonality back into the sighs and wails, and the gradual slip into the next movement, characterized with a swell to a boys choir and complete timbre and quality change through a pipe organ hymn. Fantastic stuff, that.
When I get home, I may post the song. If not I'll let you live in wonder. It doesn't really matter all that much which song it is--I'm sure that each of you have a song that is the same to you.
With a loud voice that is usually talking/singing/inflicting wisdom upon others, sometimes it is missed, but as a musician, usually my soul speaks loudest through song. The tonality and timbre wrought by my hands speak louder than my voice, and tell more about me than my snarky anecdotes.
Usually weather is a moderate determinant of my mood/choice of music, and the change from summer to fall always makes me maudlin. Autumn is my favorite season--the crisp air, the bite of the clear, cold evenings before they become the norm, the unshakable feeling that another year is marching to a close (usually without me)--the former make me happy, and the latter makes me sad. I spend a great deal of time/energy between October and December contemplating meaning, purpose, and idealism. Several who know me well have noted the difference in my attitude in the fall, going into the holidays, and have mentioned it. Now it's (sort of) explained.
This morning, I was driving to work through the early-morning pre-autumn haze zoning to a soundtrack that in turns seems to be rousing or soothing depending on the situation. Those that know me well would recognize the soundtrack; those who don't would likely not understand. This morning, one song in particular spoke to me as purely as if it were my own. It echoed my feelings toward the day -- toward the season. The keening wails at the beginning, countered by pure melodic tonality. The shape of the melody, while using rhythm to suspend reality and forward motion. The subtle fading from tonality back into the sighs and wails, and the gradual slip into the next movement, characterized with a swell to a boys choir and complete timbre and quality change through a pipe organ hymn. Fantastic stuff, that.
When I get home, I may post the song. If not I'll let you live in wonder. It doesn't really matter all that much which song it is--I'm sure that each of you have a song that is the same to you.
9.02.2007
Life is grand
79-10 and new footwear. Does life get better than this?
...and I was there all the way to the fabulous end, baby!!!
Now I sound like a man, and I'm sure that my voice will return by Friday. In time to be lost again at next week's game. Woot! Maybe I should take this opportunity to take a temp job with a 1-900 number... ;-)
Oh, and on a side note, the shoes are MINE (along with three other not-quite-so-fab pairs and an incredible purse)!
...and I was there all the way to the fabulous end, baby!!!
Now I sound like a man, and I'm sure that my voice will return by Friday. In time to be lost again at next week's game. Woot! Maybe I should take this opportunity to take a temp job with a 1-900 number... ;-)
Oh, and on a side note, the shoes are MINE (along with three other not-quite-so-fab pairs and an incredible purse)!
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