Well, after a long and undeserved hiatus, I come back with another blog for you!
I had a bit of an interesting experience last Friday. I went with some friends to a little get-together at a friend's house. All in all, I had a good time. However, suffice it to say, I partied a little too hard, and I ended up throwing up in this friend's backyard. Twice. Well, I felt absolutely terrible about it. I apologized, insisted I was an awful guest, and apologized some more. Everyone was very understanding about it, however, and in fact, they had encouraged me to throw up, insisting that I would feel better once I did.
The whole thing really surprised me, because the person who was the most upset by what I had done, the person who was most incensed by this breach of etiquette, was me. The one who had committed the breach. And afterward, it got me thinking.
Life is a curious thing. People are curious creatures. The group with whom I was spending time had lived their lives in such a way that throwing up was a relatively common occurrence. They had all experienced it several times themselves. The way their existence was created an environment that sharply contrasted with my own experience. I live in a world where that sort of thing is rare, and when that sort of thing does happen, it is closely scrutinized. And it made me feel incredibly grateful that while I learned my lesson the hard way, I didn't really alienate anyone in the process.
Life is a very curious thing.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Oklahoma!
Well, dear friends, I'm back, and I'm here to bring you a funny story.
I am currently in a production of the classic Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, "Oklahoma!", at the Fishing Creek Playhouse (shameless plug time: go see it, it runs weekends until May 9th, go to http://www.fishingcreekplayhouse.com for tickets). I play the role of "Persian" peddler Ali Hakim, and it's a lot of fun.
Our opening night performance was on Friday, April 2nd, which some of you might also realize is Good Friday. As some of you also might realize, I am the paid bass soloist at my church. So, suffice to say, I found myself in a bit of a bind.
I had organized with the director of the show that I would leave church slightly early, and she would hold the curtain for roughly fifteen minutes. My first entrance in the show isn't until about twenty minutes into Act I, so this was a viable plan.
So, here's the story: At 7:00, the church service starts. It's a lovely service, very solemn, we all contemplate about the Passion, all that good stuff, there's some lovely music, and basically, I don't leave until 7:45. The curtain for "Oklahoma!" is at 7:30. As I said, they were going to hold the curtain. So, I tore out of church, and headed down to the theatre. It took me about ten minutes to get there. Every red light I hit, every person I ended up stuck behind seemed to last an eternity. Finally, I got to the theatre. I ran towards the building, and one of the guys in charge, along with two of the cast, were waiting outside, acting as a sort of pit crew. They strapped my microphone on me, and put as much of my costume on as they could (coat and hat, as it turns out). Ado Annie was almost done singing "Cain't Say No", which is about a minute before I walk on. It's a good thing I was dressed as snappily as I was.
Afterwards, the stage manager told me that when I walked on, everybody on headsets started "giggling like they had just survived a plane crash." Their backup plan was to have one of the backstage crew walk on while the stage manager read my lines from the booth.
If I had arrived one minute later, I wouldn't have made my entrance. Miracles do happen.
I am currently in a production of the classic Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, "Oklahoma!", at the Fishing Creek Playhouse (shameless plug time: go see it, it runs weekends until May 9th, go to http://www.fishingcreekplayhouse.com for tickets). I play the role of "Persian" peddler Ali Hakim, and it's a lot of fun.
Our opening night performance was on Friday, April 2nd, which some of you might also realize is Good Friday. As some of you also might realize, I am the paid bass soloist at my church. So, suffice to say, I found myself in a bit of a bind.
I had organized with the director of the show that I would leave church slightly early, and she would hold the curtain for roughly fifteen minutes. My first entrance in the show isn't until about twenty minutes into Act I, so this was a viable plan.
So, here's the story: At 7:00, the church service starts. It's a lovely service, very solemn, we all contemplate about the Passion, all that good stuff, there's some lovely music, and basically, I don't leave until 7:45. The curtain for "Oklahoma!" is at 7:30. As I said, they were going to hold the curtain. So, I tore out of church, and headed down to the theatre. It took me about ten minutes to get there. Every red light I hit, every person I ended up stuck behind seemed to last an eternity. Finally, I got to the theatre. I ran towards the building, and one of the guys in charge, along with two of the cast, were waiting outside, acting as a sort of pit crew. They strapped my microphone on me, and put as much of my costume on as they could (coat and hat, as it turns out). Ado Annie was almost done singing "Cain't Say No", which is about a minute before I walk on. It's a good thing I was dressed as snappily as I was.
Afterwards, the stage manager told me that when I walked on, everybody on headsets started "giggling like they had just survived a plane crash." Their backup plan was to have one of the backstage crew walk on while the stage manager read my lines from the booth.
If I had arrived one minute later, I wouldn't have made my entrance. Miracles do happen.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Auto-Tune
So, the other day, my sister described a song she heard on the radio as being "very '80s" due to the prevalent use of synthesizers. And it got me thinking.
In the '80s, the use of synthesizers was at its peak, and it has since then, slowly declined in popularity. Sort of.
And, if history is as cyclical as I think it is, and if I'm as good a predictor of trends as I think I am, the same thing will happen with that worst of music devices, Auto-Tune.
See, right now we have all of these artists experimenting with Auto-Tuning, some of whom shamelessly display it (I'm looking at you, T-Pain). And we all bemoan the current state of affairs, wondering why, oh why, do we have to be aurally assaulted by these pseudo-robotic voices? Do we want our "Aughts" culture to be remembered by posterity for, of all things, this musical abortion? Well, I submit to you, that in a few years, this whole thing will die down. Auto-Tuning will still be around, I have no doubt, but it will be nowhere near as ubiquitous as it currently is. In thirty years, we will look back, and hear a song from this era on the radio, and decry it as sounding "so aughts" (or whatever we will refer to the decade as... early 2000s, perhaps? or the "o"s?). I dread this day, the day when my current generation's music is played on the "Oldies" station. But I digress.
Auto-Tuning will inevitably fade to the background, perhaps to be used as mere touching-up, or to achieve a specific effect (i.e. creepy, soulless-sounding singers(which, admittedly, could artistically work, depending on the song)). But, again, great predictor of trends that I am, a great deal of this generation's music will fall by the wayside. We pine for generations past, when there was nothing but good music, while we forget that there was plenty of bad music back then, it's simply that the good stuff survived, while the bad stuff faded into obscurity. One can only hope that the likes of Fergie will become that "faded into obscurity" music.
I have great hope for the future of music. Sort of.
In the '80s, the use of synthesizers was at its peak, and it has since then, slowly declined in popularity. Sort of.
And, if history is as cyclical as I think it is, and if I'm as good a predictor of trends as I think I am, the same thing will happen with that worst of music devices, Auto-Tune.
See, right now we have all of these artists experimenting with Auto-Tuning, some of whom shamelessly display it (I'm looking at you, T-Pain). And we all bemoan the current state of affairs, wondering why, oh why, do we have to be aurally assaulted by these pseudo-robotic voices? Do we want our "Aughts" culture to be remembered by posterity for, of all things, this musical abortion? Well, I submit to you, that in a few years, this whole thing will die down. Auto-Tuning will still be around, I have no doubt, but it will be nowhere near as ubiquitous as it currently is. In thirty years, we will look back, and hear a song from this era on the radio, and decry it as sounding "so aughts" (or whatever we will refer to the decade as... early 2000s, perhaps? or the "o"s?). I dread this day, the day when my current generation's music is played on the "Oldies" station. But I digress.
Auto-Tuning will inevitably fade to the background, perhaps to be used as mere touching-up, or to achieve a specific effect (i.e. creepy, soulless-sounding singers(which, admittedly, could artistically work, depending on the song)). But, again, great predictor of trends that I am, a great deal of this generation's music will fall by the wayside. We pine for generations past, when there was nothing but good music, while we forget that there was plenty of bad music back then, it's simply that the good stuff survived, while the bad stuff faded into obscurity. One can only hope that the likes of Fergie will become that "faded into obscurity" music.
I have great hope for the future of music. Sort of.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Snow
So, it is currently snowing. This irritates me for a number of reasons. See, it just snowed. About fifteen inches, to be precise. I spent all of Saturday and Sunday shoveling this snow away from my driveway, porch, and cars, and clearing a path from my front yard to my back yard. This caused my back and arms much soreness. Now, the powers that be have decided that just as my poor, aching body has recovered from such aggravation, it is time to bring on the pain again. This batch is set to reach approximately ten inches total, which has now invalidated all of my hard work. All that pain was for naught.
Compounding the irritation is the fact that it is forecast to remain below 32 degrees Fahrenheit all week, thus making impossible the chance that some of the snow might melt. This does not please me. Not only will two feet of snow be on the ground, it will stay on the ground, until, I can only assume, April.
However, I do get off of school tomorrow, which is good, because there was a draft of an essay I was supposed to write. I never got around to it.
So, this was my very first blog post. Hate to start on such a downer, but, c'est la vie.
--Preston
Compounding the irritation is the fact that it is forecast to remain below 32 degrees Fahrenheit all week, thus making impossible the chance that some of the snow might melt. This does not please me. Not only will two feet of snow be on the ground, it will stay on the ground, until, I can only assume, April.
However, I do get off of school tomorrow, which is good, because there was a draft of an essay I was supposed to write. I never got around to it.
So, this was my very first blog post. Hate to start on such a downer, but, c'est la vie.
--Preston
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