Driving home from work tonight, I saw another bagpiper. He was a fireman, of all things, standing in front of his station in the dark and playing away. Another coincidence? He was directly across the street from a park.
These are the moments camera phones were made for. Alas that I cannot afford one.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Thursday is Hell Day.
eh heh. NoUpdate McBaron here. I'm bloody exhausted, but the day was mildly interesting enough to share.
Nemo's Notable Observations Today:
*There was a bagpiper playing his/her heart out in the little "park" (aka empty space with 3 trees and a bench) near the campus. I have seen one or two bagpipers in public before, but this was the first one who was a) not in San Francisco, and b) actually listenable. Bag on, dude.
*Pop Tarts has a new flavor, Strawberry Milkshake. That's right, you'd be EATING a milkshake. In a Pop Tart. That's just weird, man.
*There sure are an awful lot of college whippersnappers this semester (well, I say college). There were kids so young in my geology class that they were only 2 or 3 years old during the Loma Prieta Earthquake. I am officially too old to be going to that school.
*It was amusing to watch the attached-at-both-hips, limb-entangled, can't-let-go-of-each-other-for-two-seconds couple try to figure out how to get into their car without disengaging from their permanent embrace.
*Today was apparently Dumb Pedestrian Day, though I don't recall getting that memo. I lost count of how many dumbfucks kept jaywalking directly into oncoming traffic, also jumping in front of my car for no obvious reason, etc. Not to mention Dumbfuck On A Bike, who, while crossing against the light, decided to perform a badass maneuver, only to end up crashing and asphalt-burning his ugly shirtless ass. Then he held up traffic retrieving his cell phone, wallet, hat, brain, and shoe, with his ugly shirtless buddy on a bike trying to help. Nice move, jerk.
*On a similar note, today was another day when my car was apparently invisible, because other cars were pulling out in front of me, stealing my turn at stop signs, backing into me, and switching lanes on top of me like there was no tomorrow. Another theory is that my car is so freaking awesome that other drivers are hypnotically drawn to steer as close as they can get to my driver's seat, forgetting that two cars do not magically blend together.
*Sitting in classes from 10AM until 7PM is agony on the butt.
*Writing the best essay in history class and having the teacher pass it around as an example for the other students to follow is bitchin'.
Nemo's Notable Observations Today:
*There was a bagpiper playing his/her heart out in the little "park" (aka empty space with 3 trees and a bench) near the campus. I have seen one or two bagpipers in public before, but this was the first one who was a) not in San Francisco, and b) actually listenable. Bag on, dude.
*Pop Tarts has a new flavor, Strawberry Milkshake. That's right, you'd be EATING a milkshake. In a Pop Tart. That's just weird, man.
*There sure are an awful lot of college whippersnappers this semester (well, I say college). There were kids so young in my geology class that they were only 2 or 3 years old during the Loma Prieta Earthquake. I am officially too old to be going to that school.
*It was amusing to watch the attached-at-both-hips, limb-entangled, can't-let-go-of-each-other-for-two-seconds couple try to figure out how to get into their car without disengaging from their permanent embrace.
*Today was apparently Dumb Pedestrian Day, though I don't recall getting that memo. I lost count of how many dumbfucks kept jaywalking directly into oncoming traffic, also jumping in front of my car for no obvious reason, etc. Not to mention Dumbfuck On A Bike, who, while crossing against the light, decided to perform a badass maneuver, only to end up crashing and asphalt-burning his ugly shirtless ass. Then he held up traffic retrieving his cell phone, wallet, hat, brain, and shoe, with his ugly shirtless buddy on a bike trying to help. Nice move, jerk.
*On a similar note, today was another day when my car was apparently invisible, because other cars were pulling out in front of me, stealing my turn at stop signs, backing into me, and switching lanes on top of me like there was no tomorrow. Another theory is that my car is so freaking awesome that other drivers are hypnotically drawn to steer as close as they can get to my driver's seat, forgetting that two cars do not magically blend together.
*Sitting in classes from 10AM until 7PM is agony on the butt.
*Writing the best essay in history class and having the teacher pass it around as an example for the other students to follow is bitchin'.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
"No, ma'am, we're musicians."
Happy Silver Anniversary to The Blues Brothers!!!!
Twenty-five years ago, the cult hit movie The Blues Brothers was released. We watched Jake and Elwood on their "mission from god," rampaging their way through Chicago. They cleverly outwitted cops, got beaten by a nun with a stick, took out a group of Nazis ("I hate Illinois Nazis."), and caused an obscene amount of damage. Most importantly, they exhibited great music, not just playing it themselves, but getting legends such as James Brown ("Do you see the light?"), Aretha Franklin ("You better think about the consequences of your actions."), John Lee Hooker, Cab Calloway ("Boys, you gotta learn not to talk to nuns that way."), and Ray Charles ("Ah, excuse me, but I don't think there's anything wrong with the action on this piano.") in on the act. Singing, dancing, destruction, and stupid, off-the-wall humor; ah, life is good.
My dad's a big fan, so The Blues Brothers was an essential part of my upbringing. Whether or not this was healthy is debatable.
[Nerd note: Trooper Mount is played by Steven Williams, who later plays the mysterious Mr. X on The X-Files.]
The sequel, Blues Brothers 2000, was released in 1998. Again, it displayed some truly excellent music and talented artists (Johnny Lang, BB King, Wilson Pickett, Blues Traveler, Erykah Badu, and returnees James Brown and Aretha), but toned down the insanity and made it a bit more family-friendly. Try as they might, though, it didn't quite measure up (for example, hick white supremasist conspiracy theorists are simply not as funny antagonists as Illinois Nazis driving Pintos). It was a good movie, just not as hilarious as the first one.
Let's leave the last words to the gang:
-"This place has got everything." (Jake, whilst traveling through the mall. Literally.)
-"I'll have some dry white toast."
"And I'll have four fried chickens and a coke." (Elwood and Jake, ordering at the Soul Food Cafe).
-"The Blues Brothers?! Shit. They still owe you money, fool!" (Aretha)
-"Three orange whips." (Mr. Mercer, ordering drinks at the concert.)
-"We're putting the band back together." (Jake)
-"No pharmaceutical product could ever equal the rush you get when the band hits that groove..." (Elwood J. Blues, Blues Brothers 2000)
Twenty-five years ago, the cult hit movie The Blues Brothers was released. We watched Jake and Elwood on their "mission from god," rampaging their way through Chicago. They cleverly outwitted cops, got beaten by a nun with a stick, took out a group of Nazis ("I hate Illinois Nazis."), and caused an obscene amount of damage. Most importantly, they exhibited great music, not just playing it themselves, but getting legends such as James Brown ("Do you see the light?"), Aretha Franklin ("You better think about the consequences of your actions."), John Lee Hooker, Cab Calloway ("Boys, you gotta learn not to talk to nuns that way."), and Ray Charles ("Ah, excuse me, but I don't think there's anything wrong with the action on this piano.") in on the act. Singing, dancing, destruction, and stupid, off-the-wall humor; ah, life is good.
My dad's a big fan, so The Blues Brothers was an essential part of my upbringing. Whether or not this was healthy is debatable.
[Nerd note: Trooper Mount is played by Steven Williams, who later plays the mysterious Mr. X on The X-Files.]
The sequel, Blues Brothers 2000, was released in 1998. Again, it displayed some truly excellent music and talented artists (Johnny Lang, BB King, Wilson Pickett, Blues Traveler, Erykah Badu, and returnees James Brown and Aretha), but toned down the insanity and made it a bit more family-friendly. Try as they might, though, it didn't quite measure up (for example, hick white supremasist conspiracy theorists are simply not as funny antagonists as Illinois Nazis driving Pintos). It was a good movie, just not as hilarious as the first one.
Let's leave the last words to the gang:
-"This place has got everything." (Jake, whilst traveling through the mall. Literally.)
-"I'll have some dry white toast."
"And I'll have four fried chickens and a coke." (Elwood and Jake, ordering at the Soul Food Cafe).
-"The Blues Brothers?! Shit. They still owe you money, fool!" (Aretha)
-"Three orange whips." (Mr. Mercer, ordering drinks at the concert.)
-"We're putting the band back together." (Jake)
-"No pharmaceutical product could ever equal the rush you get when the band hits that groove..." (Elwood J. Blues, Blues Brothers 2000)
Saturday, August 06, 2005
"I'm a rebel; I'm evil. My anti-perspirant is breaking down!"
Feeling a bit bad-ass right now. But I'm almost ashamed to admit why.
I thought it would be a good idea to learn to sew this summer, so I tried to enroll in an adult-ed class ("Sewing 1 - The Basics of Sewing") but it was all filled. I signed up on the wait list, but knew I wouldn't get in. Lo' and behold, the teacher called me a couple days before class and said she had ONE opening. So I signed up. I paid for the class. I expected to be taught to, you know, sew.
First class, I walk in and sit down and not two seconds pass before one of the "advaced" students (read: middle-aged house wives who have nothing better to do than take Sewing 1 over and over again, chat about their kids, and sew up some truly heinous "country crap" creations) pulled out a project to show to her friends. "Look what I finished yesterday! It's for my kitchen!" she squealed, and her friends all cooed in rapture. It was a stuffed cow. And it was wearing a home-made frilly floral dress.
I should have taken that as a sign.
This class gave no informative instruction; we had to pick our own projects and figure them out ourselves. The teacher interacted with us when asked for help. Said teacher was this stuck-up old bat who took a dislike to me the moment I asked her to explain how to hand-baste (I said I can't sew!). After that, she started staring at me strangely after I spoke, then after a long pause she'd say something like "okaaay..." or "right..." or sometimes "I see..." Example: she came to my work table and asked what project I was starting. I happily replied, "It's a simple bag to carry around my knitting projects! It's just a square with two handles" She did the staring thing, then said, "okay...so...it will be just like your purse there." She pointed to a little purse I'd made at home that weekend. "Yep," I replied, smiling, "but it will be bigger, of course." She stared at me like a foreign creature for a moment, then turned and old-lady-shuffled off. (Call me wrong, but I always thought teachers should encourage their students, not turn away in disgust.)
By the third class, I had realized that we weren't being taught anything, and we weren't going to be taught anything. All the sewing info I'd received during those weeks was from my mum, when I'd nag her into showing me something. At the start of that third class, sitting there among boring housewives at least fifteen years my seniors (the other three beginners had dropped out by this time), it suddenly struck me that I was in a sewing circle, a goddamned sewing circle. I was being ignored by a bunch of ugly old ladies with nothing more interesting in their lives than their children. And I was doing nothing there that I couldn't do at home.
I gathered my stuff, stood up, and, giving the teacher a look of disgust, walked out the door.
I just wrote a very nasty letter to the adult-ed chairman.
And it's making me feel like a rebel with a Billy-Idol-sneer. Which is so very sad.
I thought it would be a good idea to learn to sew this summer, so I tried to enroll in an adult-ed class ("Sewing 1 - The Basics of Sewing") but it was all filled. I signed up on the wait list, but knew I wouldn't get in. Lo' and behold, the teacher called me a couple days before class and said she had ONE opening. So I signed up. I paid for the class. I expected to be taught to, you know, sew.
First class, I walk in and sit down and not two seconds pass before one of the "advaced" students (read: middle-aged house wives who have nothing better to do than take Sewing 1 over and over again, chat about their kids, and sew up some truly heinous "country crap" creations) pulled out a project to show to her friends. "Look what I finished yesterday! It's for my kitchen!" she squealed, and her friends all cooed in rapture. It was a stuffed cow. And it was wearing a home-made frilly floral dress.
I should have taken that as a sign.
This class gave no informative instruction; we had to pick our own projects and figure them out ourselves. The teacher interacted with us when asked for help. Said teacher was this stuck-up old bat who took a dislike to me the moment I asked her to explain how to hand-baste (I said I can't sew!). After that, she started staring at me strangely after I spoke, then after a long pause she'd say something like "okaaay..." or "right..." or sometimes "I see..." Example: she came to my work table and asked what project I was starting. I happily replied, "It's a simple bag to carry around my knitting projects! It's just a square with two handles" She did the staring thing, then said, "okay...so...it will be just like your purse there." She pointed to a little purse I'd made at home that weekend. "Yep," I replied, smiling, "but it will be bigger, of course." She stared at me like a foreign creature for a moment, then turned and old-lady-shuffled off. (Call me wrong, but I always thought teachers should encourage their students, not turn away in disgust.)
By the third class, I had realized that we weren't being taught anything, and we weren't going to be taught anything. All the sewing info I'd received during those weeks was from my mum, when I'd nag her into showing me something. At the start of that third class, sitting there among boring housewives at least fifteen years my seniors (the other three beginners had dropped out by this time), it suddenly struck me that I was in a sewing circle, a goddamned sewing circle. I was being ignored by a bunch of ugly old ladies with nothing more interesting in their lives than their children. And I was doing nothing there that I couldn't do at home.
I gathered my stuff, stood up, and, giving the teacher a look of disgust, walked out the door.
I just wrote a very nasty letter to the adult-ed chairman.
And it's making me feel like a rebel with a Billy-Idol-sneer. Which is so very sad.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Ducks!
In springtime Japan, many folks like to throw and attend hanami (cherry blossom viewing parties). Well, I have my own spring tradition: Duck-for-me (baby duck voyeur excursions). I'm not very good at the timing, though; I usually go too early or too late.
But this year I hit it right on the nose! I was awash in fluffy duck cuteness! It's taken me, what, two months to load up the pics, but here's some quackers for y'all.
The park also has a really nice rose garden, so I checked that out too. Despite the fact that three years in the wedding business left me with little excitement for said ceremonies, even I gotta say that this would be a gorgeous place to get hitched.
This shot makes me think of the Secret Garden.
See that lady towards the left of this pic? She and her adult daughter(?) kept giving me dirty looks. I suspect they thought I was a possible pedophile photographing the little kids who were with them. They wouldn't let the kids go into whichever area of the garden I was in at the moment.
The enlightening signs in this park are great. This sign, for example, informed me that I was in the "Rose Garden," which helped dispel my notions that I was in, say, the lake.
But this year I hit it right on the nose! I was awash in fluffy duck cuteness! It's taken me, what, two months to load up the pics, but here's some quackers for y'all.
The park also has a really nice rose garden, so I checked that out too. Despite the fact that three years in the wedding business left me with little excitement for said ceremonies, even I gotta say that this would be a gorgeous place to get hitched.
This shot makes me think of the Secret Garden.
See that lady towards the left of this pic? She and her adult daughter(?) kept giving me dirty looks. I suspect they thought I was a possible pedophile photographing the little kids who were with them. They wouldn't let the kids go into whichever area of the garden I was in at the moment.
The enlightening signs in this park are great. This sign, for example, informed me that I was in the "Rose Garden," which helped dispel my notions that I was in, say, the lake.
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