Gina Harris's Blog, page 108
January 26, 2018
Concert Review: Trans-Siberian Orchestra
I attended the concert in Seattle on Thanksgiving weekend.
Before my computer issues, I had thought that I might write about the concert as a Christmas attraction - since there are annual tours - and put it on the travel blog instead. Then, as I was trying to keep things going on the dying laptop, I thought I do a regular concert review, until everything gave out and there was no blogging for a month.
The thing is, they are kind of different, and though I had never seen them before, there were probably things about this year that were different. Plus I really want to gripe about the venue.
So I am going to go over the musical part today, and focus on the venue tomorrow.
I was thinking more about how the performance would go because of found Paul O'Neill's death. Some people had been wondering how that would change things. I was thinking that it was probably more like touring with a Broadway show than being in a band. Changes would be fairly normal in that context.
However, he must have been a guiding influence. How much of this year's show had he arranged? How will it affect future shows?
Still, during the concert itself I could see interactions on the stage that were very much traditional rock performance. Yes, there is a plot, and a backup orchestra and narrator and a lot of other things to make it different, but there are still guitarists and vocalists and percussion playing off of each other. Except that apparently O'Neill was on the East Coast tour and I was watching the West Coast group, so that could have been another source of difference there.
It may make the most sense to decide that TSO are their own thing, with elements that are familiar from other performing arts combined in their own way. A lot of the differences that I had thought could come into play might only be noticed by fans.
As it was, this concert seemed to combine parts of older tours and albums. There was a plot, but There was stuff before it and through it and around it that did not necessarily seem to relate to the plot. Apparently the previous show it was based on was a "Best of" show, so that makes sense.
That is speaking only of the first TSO show, because after that there was a short break and then another full performance. I had thought that was Savatage, but apparently it is still TSO.
I had known that was a thing, but I had assumed that the Savatage performance would be more stripped down. Somewhat, but not really. There was still video and orchestral accompaniment, and moving stage equipment and there were pyrotechnics. To be fair, lots of rock bands do those things. It kind of begs the question of why to have both shows, but maybe they just like it that way. Or maybe they need the break and that's a convenient excuse to give one. Maybe it is a way of segregating the definitely Christmas from the less necessarily Christmas.
All of this is a lot about my thoughts, and not really my feelings, which it is only fair to give. The truth is, my feelings are mixed.
There is a lot of spectacle there, and they go all out in putting on the show. When I considered putting the show on the travel blog, it made sense as a Christmas attraction. There are people who go to see The Nutcracker every year, but there are also people who see it as a thing to do sometimes, or at least once, and I can totally imagine having the same attitude for TSO.
They are pretty bombastic, which is not my favorite thing, but must be popular based on how many movies end up going that way. At the same time, it seemed odd to me how saccharine some of the spoken content was. Still, that may accurately describe a lot of Christmas. I mean, they teamed up with Hallmark Channel, so maybe it all fits.
That's not in any way calling them bad. Listening to their music as I write this is fine. I just don't know that I am ever going to crave listening to them again, and that's fine. If you like them, I hope you get to see them and that the changes don't take anything away from it for you.
Different strokes and all that.
http://www.trans-siberian.com/index/home
https://www.facebook.com/groups/427391627368686/
Before my computer issues, I had thought that I might write about the concert as a Christmas attraction - since there are annual tours - and put it on the travel blog instead. Then, as I was trying to keep things going on the dying laptop, I thought I do a regular concert review, until everything gave out and there was no blogging for a month.
The thing is, they are kind of different, and though I had never seen them before, there were probably things about this year that were different. Plus I really want to gripe about the venue.
So I am going to go over the musical part today, and focus on the venue tomorrow.
I was thinking more about how the performance would go because of found Paul O'Neill's death. Some people had been wondering how that would change things. I was thinking that it was probably more like touring with a Broadway show than being in a band. Changes would be fairly normal in that context.
However, he must have been a guiding influence. How much of this year's show had he arranged? How will it affect future shows?
Still, during the concert itself I could see interactions on the stage that were very much traditional rock performance. Yes, there is a plot, and a backup orchestra and narrator and a lot of other things to make it different, but there are still guitarists and vocalists and percussion playing off of each other. Except that apparently O'Neill was on the East Coast tour and I was watching the West Coast group, so that could have been another source of difference there.
It may make the most sense to decide that TSO are their own thing, with elements that are familiar from other performing arts combined in their own way. A lot of the differences that I had thought could come into play might only be noticed by fans.
As it was, this concert seemed to combine parts of older tours and albums. There was a plot, but There was stuff before it and through it and around it that did not necessarily seem to relate to the plot. Apparently the previous show it was based on was a "Best of" show, so that makes sense.
That is speaking only of the first TSO show, because after that there was a short break and then another full performance. I had thought that was Savatage, but apparently it is still TSO.
I had known that was a thing, but I had assumed that the Savatage performance would be more stripped down. Somewhat, but not really. There was still video and orchestral accompaniment, and moving stage equipment and there were pyrotechnics. To be fair, lots of rock bands do those things. It kind of begs the question of why to have both shows, but maybe they just like it that way. Or maybe they need the break and that's a convenient excuse to give one. Maybe it is a way of segregating the definitely Christmas from the less necessarily Christmas.
All of this is a lot about my thoughts, and not really my feelings, which it is only fair to give. The truth is, my feelings are mixed.
There is a lot of spectacle there, and they go all out in putting on the show. When I considered putting the show on the travel blog, it made sense as a Christmas attraction. There are people who go to see The Nutcracker every year, but there are also people who see it as a thing to do sometimes, or at least once, and I can totally imagine having the same attitude for TSO.
They are pretty bombastic, which is not my favorite thing, but must be popular based on how many movies end up going that way. At the same time, it seemed odd to me how saccharine some of the spoken content was. Still, that may accurately describe a lot of Christmas. I mean, they teamed up with Hallmark Channel, so maybe it all fits.
That's not in any way calling them bad. Listening to their music as I write this is fine. I just don't know that I am ever going to crave listening to them again, and that's fine. If you like them, I hope you get to see them and that the changes don't take anything away from it for you.
Different strokes and all that.
http://www.trans-siberian.com/index/home
https://www.facebook.com/groups/427391627368686/
January 25, 2018
Band Review: Songs That Need To Be Sung
I don't actually know whom I'm reviewing.
I was followed by Trebol@LarryCandeli. There were links to songs, so I assumed I had a musician or a band. Not the first time.
There does not appear to be a band called Trebol (which I had thought might be a word play on "treble"). The video links are for a Youtube channel called Songs That Need To Be Sung, which also has a Facebook page.
That is also the name of one of the songs, which confused me for a while, and led me to prefer the other song, "Shut It Down". However, the song "Songs That Need To Be Sung" does give the best explanation for the motivation behind the group and the channel -- that this is a time when protest is needed, and music is an important method of protest.
That is not unreasonable. I know of at least one other entity doing that the Twitter account Songs of the Resistance: https://twitter.com/Songs2Resist2
Songs That Need To Be Sung is different in that rather than merely highlighting songs, they are creating their own. That is ambitious, which may explain why so far there are only two. They are good songs on their own, feeling like an update of the types of protest songs that we remember from the late 60s and early 70s, but it may not be sustainable without bringing in other artists.
I do not know if the Larry Lobert credited on the songs is the Larry Candeli who followed me, and it may not matter. I can only give you what I have.
https://www.facebook.com/larrylobertchrisstoddard/
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8YUfnTy8qfN7tZe4jiFczw
https://twitter.com/LarryCandeli
(Meanwhile, I continue my experiment in capitalism.)
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
I was followed by Trebol@LarryCandeli. There were links to songs, so I assumed I had a musician or a band. Not the first time.
There does not appear to be a band called Trebol (which I had thought might be a word play on "treble"). The video links are for a Youtube channel called Songs That Need To Be Sung, which also has a Facebook page.
That is also the name of one of the songs, which confused me for a while, and led me to prefer the other song, "Shut It Down". However, the song "Songs That Need To Be Sung" does give the best explanation for the motivation behind the group and the channel -- that this is a time when protest is needed, and music is an important method of protest.
That is not unreasonable. I know of at least one other entity doing that the Twitter account Songs of the Resistance: https://twitter.com/Songs2Resist2
Songs That Need To Be Sung is different in that rather than merely highlighting songs, they are creating their own. That is ambitious, which may explain why so far there are only two. They are good songs on their own, feeling like an update of the types of protest songs that we remember from the late 60s and early 70s, but it may not be sustainable without bringing in other artists.
I do not know if the Larry Lobert credited on the songs is the Larry Candeli who followed me, and it may not matter. I can only give you what I have.
https://www.facebook.com/larrylobertchrisstoddard/
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8YUfnTy8qfN7tZe4jiFczw
https://twitter.com/LarryCandeli
(Meanwhile, I continue my experiment in capitalism.)
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
January 24, 2018
Heart failure
Some of my greatest learning periods have accompanied loss.
I was thinking about that a while back. I remembered the hard lessons that came when my ability to earn a good living took a hard crash and when my normally cheerful nature disappeared. Things that would have been plenty hard on their own were worse because I had taken them for granted. I'd thought they were parts of me, so when they were gone I questioned what I had left.
Remembering that - in this era of hard times - I had to wonder what else might go. I did not think of writing, though that was a thing, but I did identify something that would be an issue.
My natural tendency is to love. It's not just that I believe it's right, but it flows for me. It is usually easy for me to like people and see the good in them and to be happy for them. I thought that might be the most key part of my identity, as well as a key part of my faith. Losing that would be a problem. I tried thinking about prevention or safeguards, and the only thing I came up with was that if I felt my love slipping I better pray.
It slipped.
It was probably happening before I noticed it. Where I first started noticing it was listening to a friend who has had her own hard times, but things are starting to get better. I found myself less happy for her. There was just such a hole inside from wondering when my turn would be.
The last time I remember feeling jealousy was around 1997. I must have really backslid to be facing it again all these years later.
You would think that having thought about the possibility and potential strategies in advance should help. but I didn't really pray about it that much. There were so many other things that I needed to pray for - things that dominated my brain - that it was easy to forget.
Still, there was a level on which I was trying to keep love alive, and I didn't recognize that right away either. This Christmas I found myself with a strong desire to bake for our neighbors.
I have had two other rounds of Christmas baking. Five years ago it was geared toward people from church, and the time before that (possibly ten years ago, but I am not sure) was for friends. It's not that I only do Christmas things every five years, but big rounds of baking are rare.
Another thing that I lost on my computer was my recipe file. When everything was down there wasn't even a way to look up recipes. Still, between recipes on packages and recipes that are simple enough that I remember them (and also buying one container of dough), I made cookies: chocolate chip, oatmeal butterscotch, peanut butter (with and without chocolate kisses), and brownies. Because out of the fifteen houses on our block, only four are dog-less, I also carried along a bag of dog treats.
The reason I know that the last time I baked was five years ago is because it was Sandy Hook. The local shooting here and then the much worse shooting there had cast a pall over the year, and I instinctively felt that my answer was to cook and deliver it away.
I didn't know why I felt so strongly that I needed to take plates to our neighbors, then I started to think that maybe it was to lift the gloom of this rotten year.
It could also have been to connect. There were some good visits. There were some where I made Mom come because I knew there would be visiting and she needed it too. Maybe it was to let the neighbors know that we can be there for them. I don't know. It was just what needed to be done.
Maybe I needed to know that I am still capable of giving and doing. Anything but money, anyway. I took a backpack of leftover emergency supplies downtown too. No, there's not much I can do for the homeless, but they can use those things better than I can.
(Of course, as I left the group I was talking to, I saw a city worker with a trash can, and suddenly felt disapproved of, but maybe that was my imagination. If not, that problem is the system, not me.)
And maybe I should start praying more about that. However, I must also admit that a later failure of love was very helpful.
I hope to write about that Monday.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
I was thinking about that a while back. I remembered the hard lessons that came when my ability to earn a good living took a hard crash and when my normally cheerful nature disappeared. Things that would have been plenty hard on their own were worse because I had taken them for granted. I'd thought they were parts of me, so when they were gone I questioned what I had left.
Remembering that - in this era of hard times - I had to wonder what else might go. I did not think of writing, though that was a thing, but I did identify something that would be an issue.
My natural tendency is to love. It's not just that I believe it's right, but it flows for me. It is usually easy for me to like people and see the good in them and to be happy for them. I thought that might be the most key part of my identity, as well as a key part of my faith. Losing that would be a problem. I tried thinking about prevention or safeguards, and the only thing I came up with was that if I felt my love slipping I better pray.
It slipped.
It was probably happening before I noticed it. Where I first started noticing it was listening to a friend who has had her own hard times, but things are starting to get better. I found myself less happy for her. There was just such a hole inside from wondering when my turn would be.
The last time I remember feeling jealousy was around 1997. I must have really backslid to be facing it again all these years later.
You would think that having thought about the possibility and potential strategies in advance should help. but I didn't really pray about it that much. There were so many other things that I needed to pray for - things that dominated my brain - that it was easy to forget.
Still, there was a level on which I was trying to keep love alive, and I didn't recognize that right away either. This Christmas I found myself with a strong desire to bake for our neighbors.
I have had two other rounds of Christmas baking. Five years ago it was geared toward people from church, and the time before that (possibly ten years ago, but I am not sure) was for friends. It's not that I only do Christmas things every five years, but big rounds of baking are rare.
Another thing that I lost on my computer was my recipe file. When everything was down there wasn't even a way to look up recipes. Still, between recipes on packages and recipes that are simple enough that I remember them (and also buying one container of dough), I made cookies: chocolate chip, oatmeal butterscotch, peanut butter (with and without chocolate kisses), and brownies. Because out of the fifteen houses on our block, only four are dog-less, I also carried along a bag of dog treats.
The reason I know that the last time I baked was five years ago is because it was Sandy Hook. The local shooting here and then the much worse shooting there had cast a pall over the year, and I instinctively felt that my answer was to cook and deliver it away.
I didn't know why I felt so strongly that I needed to take plates to our neighbors, then I started to think that maybe it was to lift the gloom of this rotten year.
It could also have been to connect. There were some good visits. There were some where I made Mom come because I knew there would be visiting and she needed it too. Maybe it was to let the neighbors know that we can be there for them. I don't know. It was just what needed to be done.
Maybe I needed to know that I am still capable of giving and doing. Anything but money, anyway. I took a backpack of leftover emergency supplies downtown too. No, there's not much I can do for the homeless, but they can use those things better than I can.
(Of course, as I left the group I was talking to, I saw a city worker with a trash can, and suddenly felt disapproved of, but maybe that was my imagination. If not, that problem is the system, not me.)
And maybe I should start praying more about that. However, I must also admit that a later failure of love was very helpful.
I hope to write about that Monday.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
January 23, 2018
Technical difficulties
Before I got knocked off-line, my final post had been "Underground - Becoming radicalized". That could have sounded ominous in a way different than the reality.
My desktop PC - which I use for everything - gave out two days before that. It just died with a PXE error, and trying to correct the boot order didn't work. Trying to reinstall the OS also did not work. Trying to access the hard drive separately via another computer? Nope, not working.
I tried to keep things going with my laptop, a Chromebook that I had bought in 2012. It was out of support, but I only used it for travel. I typed my blogs on it, and chose the daily songs based on what I remembered of what was coming up. I thought maybe I could do Christmas songs for a while, until I figured something out. Then the Chromebook died.
That wasn't a new issue. Periodically it would freeze, and then I would have to remove the battery, wait, put it back in and restart. That didn't work this time.
My brother loaned me his laptop, so I tried keeping at it, and then that one froze. I flipped it over to take out the battery, and it had screws keeping it in.
Sometimes you need to give up.
I later discovered that I just had to let the battery drain all the way on the Chromebook, so part of my problem was my habit of keeping things charged. For the Toshiba, I could not find a tiny Phillips screwdriver, but I made a tiny flat head work, and I kinda-sorts have two working laptops now, as long as I don't push my luck. Before that, though, it was hard.
A few months ago I came really close to losing Comcast, until my sister paid the bill. That is phone, television, and internet for us. My cell phone was already gone, so the landline is the only way of reaching me now, and without cable that would make keeping my mother entertained harder, but what was hurting the most was the thought of losing internet. I thought about the human connection, the news, the music, and simply having any access to the outside world. Care-taking can be very isolating. I thought about it and it was agonizing.
This was so much worse.
If we had lost internet, I still would have been able to write. I wouldn't have been posting new blogs or submitting screenplays, but at least I could still have written in my journal. I could still have the creative outlet that works best for me.
I'm not good at writing by hand. My hand cramps up after a very short while, and even before that it is too slow. I have a lot of pent-up thoughts to get out. That month without an outlet was hard. Even when no one is listening, I need to be able to say it.
It still is not smooth sailing. My brother's laptop had an expired copy of Office 2016. I tried putting in my license, but that's for an older copy. I tried reinstalling my software, but I can't get the CD drive to work. (The Chromebook doesn't even have a CD drive.) I am using Wordpad, but then if you save in Rich Text File it tells you that is Word and it's expired again. A friend suggested Open Office, and I guess I should look into that.
I need to check out Amazon Studio's version of screenwriting software too. I could probably find my Final Draft license in e-mail, but that is also older, and this is an older laptop that is only borrowed. Nothing is ideal right now.
But at least I am able to write something again. I wrote out all my feelings in a new journal file, and now they are coming out in the blog, just like old times, except without all my files.
That could be worse. Because I publish so much of what I write, I think the only creative (maybe some day could make some money) projects that are truly gone are about three chapters each for the next novels in each series. Otherwise, screenplays are up on Amazon Studios, books are on Kindle Direct Publishing, and short stories and poems have mostly been blogged. The notes I use to keep names and dates straight are gone, but that can be reconstructed.
Journals going back to 2000 and special projects are gone. Writing them the first time was most important, so maybe that's okay.
Musically it's hard. I have been able to recreate, for the most part, which reviewed bands still need a song of the day and which bands still need to be reviewed. There are probably gaps. Also, the sound quality seems a lot worse on the Toshiba. I hooked up the same speakers, but I don't think the sound card is very good. Is it even ethically proper to still try and review bands with diminished sound quality? I could still make this week work, because I had been listening to two back before the second crash, but beyond that I am not sure.
I cannot recreate my Emo notes, and that is frustrating. I mean, someday I hope a professional can recover the files, but that takes money I don't have. And maybe some luck.
Obviously, I see the importance of backing up in a new light. I've never not been able to get files off the old drive before, but that's probably because it was different parts that failed.
All of that combined is why yesterday I wrote about what I intend to write rather than what I will write. I still have lots to say, and I need to write at least some of it, but maybe not in the blog. Maybe I can maintain a journal, but only manage that. Maybe I can manage screenwriting again, and have time for that, but only for that. Maybe there's a long hiatus on reviewing bands.
All of those things fill different roles for me, so any of them would be a loss, but there has been loss. Loss is nothing new here.
So it comes back to that decision: when do you fight harder, and when do you give up?
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
My desktop PC - which I use for everything - gave out two days before that. It just died with a PXE error, and trying to correct the boot order didn't work. Trying to reinstall the OS also did not work. Trying to access the hard drive separately via another computer? Nope, not working.
I tried to keep things going with my laptop, a Chromebook that I had bought in 2012. It was out of support, but I only used it for travel. I typed my blogs on it, and chose the daily songs based on what I remembered of what was coming up. I thought maybe I could do Christmas songs for a while, until I figured something out. Then the Chromebook died.
That wasn't a new issue. Periodically it would freeze, and then I would have to remove the battery, wait, put it back in and restart. That didn't work this time.
My brother loaned me his laptop, so I tried keeping at it, and then that one froze. I flipped it over to take out the battery, and it had screws keeping it in.
Sometimes you need to give up.
I later discovered that I just had to let the battery drain all the way on the Chromebook, so part of my problem was my habit of keeping things charged. For the Toshiba, I could not find a tiny Phillips screwdriver, but I made a tiny flat head work, and I kinda-sorts have two working laptops now, as long as I don't push my luck. Before that, though, it was hard.
A few months ago I came really close to losing Comcast, until my sister paid the bill. That is phone, television, and internet for us. My cell phone was already gone, so the landline is the only way of reaching me now, and without cable that would make keeping my mother entertained harder, but what was hurting the most was the thought of losing internet. I thought about the human connection, the news, the music, and simply having any access to the outside world. Care-taking can be very isolating. I thought about it and it was agonizing.
This was so much worse.
If we had lost internet, I still would have been able to write. I wouldn't have been posting new blogs or submitting screenplays, but at least I could still have written in my journal. I could still have the creative outlet that works best for me.
I'm not good at writing by hand. My hand cramps up after a very short while, and even before that it is too slow. I have a lot of pent-up thoughts to get out. That month without an outlet was hard. Even when no one is listening, I need to be able to say it.
It still is not smooth sailing. My brother's laptop had an expired copy of Office 2016. I tried putting in my license, but that's for an older copy. I tried reinstalling my software, but I can't get the CD drive to work. (The Chromebook doesn't even have a CD drive.) I am using Wordpad, but then if you save in Rich Text File it tells you that is Word and it's expired again. A friend suggested Open Office, and I guess I should look into that.
I need to check out Amazon Studio's version of screenwriting software too. I could probably find my Final Draft license in e-mail, but that is also older, and this is an older laptop that is only borrowed. Nothing is ideal right now.
But at least I am able to write something again. I wrote out all my feelings in a new journal file, and now they are coming out in the blog, just like old times, except without all my files.
That could be worse. Because I publish so much of what I write, I think the only creative (maybe some day could make some money) projects that are truly gone are about three chapters each for the next novels in each series. Otherwise, screenplays are up on Amazon Studios, books are on Kindle Direct Publishing, and short stories and poems have mostly been blogged. The notes I use to keep names and dates straight are gone, but that can be reconstructed.
Journals going back to 2000 and special projects are gone. Writing them the first time was most important, so maybe that's okay.
Musically it's hard. I have been able to recreate, for the most part, which reviewed bands still need a song of the day and which bands still need to be reviewed. There are probably gaps. Also, the sound quality seems a lot worse on the Toshiba. I hooked up the same speakers, but I don't think the sound card is very good. Is it even ethically proper to still try and review bands with diminished sound quality? I could still make this week work, because I had been listening to two back before the second crash, but beyond that I am not sure.
I cannot recreate my Emo notes, and that is frustrating. I mean, someday I hope a professional can recover the files, but that takes money I don't have. And maybe some luck.
Obviously, I see the importance of backing up in a new light. I've never not been able to get files off the old drive before, but that's probably because it was different parts that failed.
All of that combined is why yesterday I wrote about what I intend to write rather than what I will write. I still have lots to say, and I need to write at least some of it, but maybe not in the blog. Maybe I can maintain a journal, but only manage that. Maybe I can manage screenwriting again, and have time for that, but only for that. Maybe there's a long hiatus on reviewing bands.
All of those things fill different roles for me, so any of them would be a loss, but there has been loss. Loss is nothing new here.
So it comes back to that decision: when do you fight harder, and when do you give up?
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
January 22, 2018
Down and out
I'm not sure if I'm all the way back.
Technical and life issues made blogging a challenge. It still is, actually, but I intend to write more about the technical and writing issues tomorrow. Today is more about how it fit in with the other challenges.
On Cyber Monday the price of a book I had wanted went down from $11.99 to $3.99. I arranged to give cash to my sister to buy it through her account, but Amazon is weird about e-books and it accidentally went on her work card, and I had to call to get the transaction canceled after lots of online attempts and it was very frustrating. I missed my window of opportunity and the next day the price was back up.
I was utterly destroyed by this $8 difference, but as wrecked as I was, I knew it was excessive. I had always been planning on paying the $11.99 at some point. I think there were three factors, though one of them stood out more to me as I was trying to be rational about 8 bucks.
The factors I see more clearly now are the humiliation about needing help from other people to make a simple purchase (which made it going wrong worse), plus all of the effort of trying this part of the site and then that part and then waiting on hold. Time and energy are precious to me and I spilled plenty of both on that attempt to save a small amount of money.
For back then when it was fresh, what stood out most was knowing that the less you have the more precious everything becomes. That is not just for possessions like books, but for "wins" -- for the sheer ability to want something and successfully get it.
Something else had been rankling from a week before. There was a karaoke night scheduled. I love karaoke, and I don't get to do it that often, so I was really looking forward to it. We were helping my brother move in the afternoon. but he thought that would take an hour in the afternoon. Okay, I know things like that are likely to take longer than you would think, but I didn't allow for all of the things that would go wrong, and how late we would be. I didn't make it.
That shouldn't have been overwhelming in itself -- it's just one night -- but there was no knowing how long it would be until the next one. It's worse in that now there is another one. It's for February which is a very short gap, so that should be good, except that I find I can't RSVP.
It's not my certainty that I am no fun anymore (based on the stress I feel when asked how I am and the weird reactions I get when I can't answer like a normal human being). I also have this nagging fear that something else will come up. I will think I am going and be wrong again, and space is limited so it matters.
Certainly plenty of things have gone wrong over the last two years, but my hesitation to commit to fun may have been exacerbated on Boxing Day.
I wanted to go see Christmas Lights. I convinced my sisters to go to Maddax Woods, and they had even agreed to go to the Victorian Belle, though that fell through (that's its own frustrating story there). Realistically I thought there were two things I could bus to, that were still open after Christmas. I had someone to stay with Mom. I had the bus fare and admission for the Grotto, and a route that would take me to there and Peacock Lane. I just didn't count on the weather.
It wasn't bad over here, but far on the East side of the river, the wet had refrozen. I started to worry a little at the 82nd Max station, but that wasn't too bad. Getting off the bus, though, a small walk to the corner became really dangerous. I was so close, but there was no way I could get there without falling. At least it didn't feel like I could. Maybe that was just intuition preventing me from risking it all for nothing, because when I got home I learned that they had closed due to the weather anyway. I had not known that when I left two hours earlier.
And that is how long it took to get there, so that was a lot of time on TriMet for a whole lot of nothing, except for remembering how many others have it worse. On the way back I saw a woman cradling a teddy bear like an infant. I guess it could have been worse, because I think she was using it to calm herself, with some success, but it felt like there was a deep hurt behind that. Then we passed people lining up outside a shelter for food, and I saw a man head under a footbridge to take shelter for the night. I guess it might offer enough of a screen that no one would try to rob him or tell him to move along, but you can't tell me that it's not cold and damp.
I suspect that seeing those things should have reminded me that I don't really have it so bad, but I still felt terrible about my own problems, to which there was added a reminder that I am a selfish monster for caring about my petty problems, and also a sadness for them, and my own inability to help.
Speaking of things that should be helpful or inspiring but just made me feel worse, some people did help me.
Birthday fundraisers have become a Facebook thing lately. I have at times thought about crowdfunding, but I could never bring myself to do it because there is always Puerto Rico, and homeless people, and people who are unemployed and have kids. But when my computer died, I posted that if I were going to do a birthday fundraiser it would be for me, and I included my Paypal.
Three people gave to me. That was good of them, and it was touching, but it was also just another reminder of how pathetic and miserable this is. I used to be the helper! And it should be a reminder that we all have our up times and down times, and if some people are helping then it must follow that some people need help, or at least can use help, but that is not how it feels.
I took down my birthday. First of all, you can't set up a fundraiser for yourself via the normal Facebook process; there has to be an existing charity. So, even if I had felt capable of shaking down my friends, I couldn't do it that way. Mainly, though, I could not bear the well wishes, and thanking people or liking the posts and all of that acting like there is something to celebrate.
Birthday wishes are big for me. I try and never miss them. I have kept sending other people wishes, and for the people who knew the date anyway and messages (I also shut down posting on my timeline) I thanked them, but the normal thing would have kept me cringing all day, or off Facebook, except then it would just be there the next day. That was what I did to stay functional, even though doing it seems to indicate a certain emotional frailty.
At least I am no longer seeping stress out my back. (That is a different story, perhaps too gross for sharing, but it was a big factor in not being able to tell people I was fine.)
Anyway, that's an overview of what has been going on. I intend to write more tomorrow, as I said, but it might not happen. A lot of the past month or so has come down to questions of what is a sign to fight harder and what is a sign to give up. On the 30th I tried the Grotto and Peacock Lane again, and that time it worked. I still haven't RSVP'd for karaoke. The value of blogging should be made more clear tomorrow, but sometimes you have to give up valuable things too.
However, I will be putting my Paypal link at the bottom of every post.
I have thought about putting ads on the pages many times, especially lately. It seemed likely that I would just slow the page down for everyone and pick up 40 cents out of it; what would be the point? I could never bring myself to do a paywall, even if I had a big enough audience to make it worthwhile. I know what it's like to be the person locked out.
But if there has been some value in my words, and if you have the desire and ability to give, yeah, I will remind you that there is a way.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
Technical and life issues made blogging a challenge. It still is, actually, but I intend to write more about the technical and writing issues tomorrow. Today is more about how it fit in with the other challenges.
On Cyber Monday the price of a book I had wanted went down from $11.99 to $3.99. I arranged to give cash to my sister to buy it through her account, but Amazon is weird about e-books and it accidentally went on her work card, and I had to call to get the transaction canceled after lots of online attempts and it was very frustrating. I missed my window of opportunity and the next day the price was back up.
I was utterly destroyed by this $8 difference, but as wrecked as I was, I knew it was excessive. I had always been planning on paying the $11.99 at some point. I think there were three factors, though one of them stood out more to me as I was trying to be rational about 8 bucks.
The factors I see more clearly now are the humiliation about needing help from other people to make a simple purchase (which made it going wrong worse), plus all of the effort of trying this part of the site and then that part and then waiting on hold. Time and energy are precious to me and I spilled plenty of both on that attempt to save a small amount of money.
For back then when it was fresh, what stood out most was knowing that the less you have the more precious everything becomes. That is not just for possessions like books, but for "wins" -- for the sheer ability to want something and successfully get it.
Something else had been rankling from a week before. There was a karaoke night scheduled. I love karaoke, and I don't get to do it that often, so I was really looking forward to it. We were helping my brother move in the afternoon. but he thought that would take an hour in the afternoon. Okay, I know things like that are likely to take longer than you would think, but I didn't allow for all of the things that would go wrong, and how late we would be. I didn't make it.
That shouldn't have been overwhelming in itself -- it's just one night -- but there was no knowing how long it would be until the next one. It's worse in that now there is another one. It's for February which is a very short gap, so that should be good, except that I find I can't RSVP.
It's not my certainty that I am no fun anymore (based on the stress I feel when asked how I am and the weird reactions I get when I can't answer like a normal human being). I also have this nagging fear that something else will come up. I will think I am going and be wrong again, and space is limited so it matters.
Certainly plenty of things have gone wrong over the last two years, but my hesitation to commit to fun may have been exacerbated on Boxing Day.
I wanted to go see Christmas Lights. I convinced my sisters to go to Maddax Woods, and they had even agreed to go to the Victorian Belle, though that fell through (that's its own frustrating story there). Realistically I thought there were two things I could bus to, that were still open after Christmas. I had someone to stay with Mom. I had the bus fare and admission for the Grotto, and a route that would take me to there and Peacock Lane. I just didn't count on the weather.
It wasn't bad over here, but far on the East side of the river, the wet had refrozen. I started to worry a little at the 82nd Max station, but that wasn't too bad. Getting off the bus, though, a small walk to the corner became really dangerous. I was so close, but there was no way I could get there without falling. At least it didn't feel like I could. Maybe that was just intuition preventing me from risking it all for nothing, because when I got home I learned that they had closed due to the weather anyway. I had not known that when I left two hours earlier.
And that is how long it took to get there, so that was a lot of time on TriMet for a whole lot of nothing, except for remembering how many others have it worse. On the way back I saw a woman cradling a teddy bear like an infant. I guess it could have been worse, because I think she was using it to calm herself, with some success, but it felt like there was a deep hurt behind that. Then we passed people lining up outside a shelter for food, and I saw a man head under a footbridge to take shelter for the night. I guess it might offer enough of a screen that no one would try to rob him or tell him to move along, but you can't tell me that it's not cold and damp.
I suspect that seeing those things should have reminded me that I don't really have it so bad, but I still felt terrible about my own problems, to which there was added a reminder that I am a selfish monster for caring about my petty problems, and also a sadness for them, and my own inability to help.
Speaking of things that should be helpful or inspiring but just made me feel worse, some people did help me.
Birthday fundraisers have become a Facebook thing lately. I have at times thought about crowdfunding, but I could never bring myself to do it because there is always Puerto Rico, and homeless people, and people who are unemployed and have kids. But when my computer died, I posted that if I were going to do a birthday fundraiser it would be for me, and I included my Paypal.
Three people gave to me. That was good of them, and it was touching, but it was also just another reminder of how pathetic and miserable this is. I used to be the helper! And it should be a reminder that we all have our up times and down times, and if some people are helping then it must follow that some people need help, or at least can use help, but that is not how it feels.
I took down my birthday. First of all, you can't set up a fundraiser for yourself via the normal Facebook process; there has to be an existing charity. So, even if I had felt capable of shaking down my friends, I couldn't do it that way. Mainly, though, I could not bear the well wishes, and thanking people or liking the posts and all of that acting like there is something to celebrate.
Birthday wishes are big for me. I try and never miss them. I have kept sending other people wishes, and for the people who knew the date anyway and messages (I also shut down posting on my timeline) I thanked them, but the normal thing would have kept me cringing all day, or off Facebook, except then it would just be there the next day. That was what I did to stay functional, even though doing it seems to indicate a certain emotional frailty.
At least I am no longer seeping stress out my back. (That is a different story, perhaps too gross for sharing, but it was a big factor in not being able to tell people I was fine.)
Anyway, that's an overview of what has been going on. I intend to write more tomorrow, as I said, but it might not happen. A lot of the past month or so has come down to questions of what is a sign to fight harder and what is a sign to give up. On the 30th I tried the Grotto and Peacock Lane again, and that time it worked. I still haven't RSVP'd for karaoke. The value of blogging should be made more clear tomorrow, but sometimes you have to give up valuable things too.
However, I will be putting my Paypal link at the bottom of every post.
I have thought about putting ads on the pages many times, especially lately. It seemed likely that I would just slow the page down for everyone and pick up 40 cents out of it; what would be the point? I could never bring myself to do a paywall, even if I had a big enough audience to make it worthwhile. I know what it's like to be the person locked out.
But if there has been some value in my words, and if you have the desire and ability to give, yeah, I will remind you that there is a way.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
January 2, 2018
Thank you for your patience
I had posted on Facebook and Twitter, but if there is anyone reading the blog who did not see it, I have been having big computer problems with only intermittent connectivity. That will be its own post, and I hope soon.
December 20, 2017
Underground: Becoming radicalized
That title may seem a little scary. It is not completely intentional, but it seems like the best title. Maybe that will make sense by the end.
I've written about fear and choice, but not all choices are made by fear.
In "Minty" Harriet Tubman talks about her escape, and coming back to get her husband, who did not want to go. Other people did. She had been thinking about her family, but that was a limited vision, and she realized that and began to free many.
When Noah and Rosalee make it to John and Elizabeth's, family information comes out that was not expected. John learns that Rosalee is his niece. Rosalee learns that her brother Sam is dead.
Maybe it's important that Sam is her half-brother. Maybe her father would not have hung his own son to gain political points at a rally and show that he was sufficiently tough on slavery. As it was, it was one of the most horrifying images of the series, and it was irrevocable.
As Noah and Rosalee lay together, processing her grief for Sam, but no doubt also thinking of all those lost along the way, she says that none of us are free until all of us are free.
Noah being captured not long after may reinforce that, as well as finding out that she is pregnant. Her determination to free her remaining family and her fear of not being able to leads to some questionable decisions, but she's right. If the people you love are in captivity, your caring for them becomes another bond.
Regardless of what wrong decisions she makes, her decision to train with Harriet is an admirable one. Even if she does it because of her family, it does not change that the help she gives to others extends beyond them.
Noah is angry at her concealing the pregnancy, and he has a point, but he also cannot resist the call. He cannot deny Harriet's words when she appeals to him, and he cannot deny the need of another man to be reunited with his family.
Maybe it's not just our own family that matters, or maybe at one point you realize we are all family.
It is possible to deny caring for others. You can kill your soul to the point that you will rush through a viciously misanthropic tax bill and lie about it being a gift. You can narrow your focus to where you believe that everyone else is lazy and worthless but you (maybe including you, on some level), and you will keep accepting pain as long as it gets spread around to those bad ones.
You can do that, but it's evil, and it kills joy, and it scorches land that should be beautiful and live-giving. And it kills joy.
There is a lot of pain in caring about everyone, but there is joy in it too, and comfort, and moments of triumph.
It is technically radical, because it means you want to take the oppressive structures and tear them up by the roots. Doing that requires being radically honest, including with and about yourself, so you will notice if your plans end up leading to more destruction. Therefore it also requires being radically caring and radically kind.
The details may vary in how we get there, but there shouldn't be any doubt as to destination.
I've written about fear and choice, but not all choices are made by fear.
In "Minty" Harriet Tubman talks about her escape, and coming back to get her husband, who did not want to go. Other people did. She had been thinking about her family, but that was a limited vision, and she realized that and began to free many.
When Noah and Rosalee make it to John and Elizabeth's, family information comes out that was not expected. John learns that Rosalee is his niece. Rosalee learns that her brother Sam is dead.
Maybe it's important that Sam is her half-brother. Maybe her father would not have hung his own son to gain political points at a rally and show that he was sufficiently tough on slavery. As it was, it was one of the most horrifying images of the series, and it was irrevocable.
As Noah and Rosalee lay together, processing her grief for Sam, but no doubt also thinking of all those lost along the way, she says that none of us are free until all of us are free.
Noah being captured not long after may reinforce that, as well as finding out that she is pregnant. Her determination to free her remaining family and her fear of not being able to leads to some questionable decisions, but she's right. If the people you love are in captivity, your caring for them becomes another bond.
Regardless of what wrong decisions she makes, her decision to train with Harriet is an admirable one. Even if she does it because of her family, it does not change that the help she gives to others extends beyond them.
Noah is angry at her concealing the pregnancy, and he has a point, but he also cannot resist the call. He cannot deny Harriet's words when she appeals to him, and he cannot deny the need of another man to be reunited with his family.
Maybe it's not just our own family that matters, or maybe at one point you realize we are all family.
It is possible to deny caring for others. You can kill your soul to the point that you will rush through a viciously misanthropic tax bill and lie about it being a gift. You can narrow your focus to where you believe that everyone else is lazy and worthless but you (maybe including you, on some level), and you will keep accepting pain as long as it gets spread around to those bad ones.
You can do that, but it's evil, and it kills joy, and it scorches land that should be beautiful and live-giving. And it kills joy.
There is a lot of pain in caring about everyone, but there is joy in it too, and comfort, and moments of triumph.
It is technically radical, because it means you want to take the oppressive structures and tear them up by the roots. Doing that requires being radically honest, including with and about yourself, so you will notice if your plans end up leading to more destruction. Therefore it also requires being radically caring and radically kind.
The details may vary in how we get there, but there shouldn't be any doubt as to destination.
December 19, 2017
Underground: Choice
I'm going back to the "Minty" episode.
Tubman's presentation was absolutely enthralling, which only increased the sense of discomfort that I am about to get into.
In earlier episodes there was beginning to be some conflict between the members of the Sewing Circle - a group of women who openly support abolition and with somewhat more secrecy shelter runaway slaves - and some visitors affiliated with John Brown. The disagree on the justification for and necessity of violence.
With everything that she has been through (probably including some PTSD), Elizabeth finds herself becoming more drawn to the violence, especially when she sees the face of her attacker. This is where she commits arson, though after she has seen the man leave his home. She then sees a young boy calling for his mother and entering the flames.
We later see the boy heavily bandaged in a hospital. It does not appear that his mother was in the house, or that anyone else was hurt, but Elizabeth is now responsible for injury, not just property damage. It's a reminder that if trying to be careful does not guarantee results.
In "Minty" we aren't there yet, but she does begin to talk in terms of war. Her communication is so direct with the audience that it is a question for the watcher; will you fight for this?
I came to a place of empathy with John Brown a few years ago after watching The Abolitionists on The American Experience. I can understand why it seemed like there was no other way, and I already believed in the importance of his cause. I still don't know that I could initiate an attack. Defend myself? Yes. Defend others? Yes. But if there's not an actual attack going on, just a horribly wrong and unjust structure, can I start violence against that? I don't know that I can.
So the thing I appreciate so much about where they went is that it gave a choice without removing responsibility. I wish I could give the words, but probably really people should just watch it. Still, here is what it meant to me: You better listen.
Harriet Tubman believed that she was led, guided by visions in her case. I have often felt myself led too. You better listen to find out what you can do, and what you should do, and what it is your role to do.
There is so much that I don't know right now about this time and how to get through, but I do believe in my ability to listen. I believe in the ability to get answers.
And I believe that I can do what I need to do.
Tubman's presentation was absolutely enthralling, which only increased the sense of discomfort that I am about to get into.
In earlier episodes there was beginning to be some conflict between the members of the Sewing Circle - a group of women who openly support abolition and with somewhat more secrecy shelter runaway slaves - and some visitors affiliated with John Brown. The disagree on the justification for and necessity of violence.
With everything that she has been through (probably including some PTSD), Elizabeth finds herself becoming more drawn to the violence, especially when she sees the face of her attacker. This is where she commits arson, though after she has seen the man leave his home. She then sees a young boy calling for his mother and entering the flames.
We later see the boy heavily bandaged in a hospital. It does not appear that his mother was in the house, or that anyone else was hurt, but Elizabeth is now responsible for injury, not just property damage. It's a reminder that if trying to be careful does not guarantee results.
In "Minty" we aren't there yet, but she does begin to talk in terms of war. Her communication is so direct with the audience that it is a question for the watcher; will you fight for this?
I came to a place of empathy with John Brown a few years ago after watching The Abolitionists on The American Experience. I can understand why it seemed like there was no other way, and I already believed in the importance of his cause. I still don't know that I could initiate an attack. Defend myself? Yes. Defend others? Yes. But if there's not an actual attack going on, just a horribly wrong and unjust structure, can I start violence against that? I don't know that I can.
So the thing I appreciate so much about where they went is that it gave a choice without removing responsibility. I wish I could give the words, but probably really people should just watch it. Still, here is what it meant to me: You better listen.
Harriet Tubman believed that she was led, guided by visions in her case. I have often felt myself led too. You better listen to find out what you can do, and what you should do, and what it is your role to do.
There is so much that I don't know right now about this time and how to get through, but I do believe in my ability to listen. I believe in the ability to get answers.
And I believe that I can do what I need to do.
December 18, 2017
Underground: Fear
In the first season Jay (a slave who spent time living with Indians) tells Ben Pullman that we each have two wolves inside, one good and one evil. Only the one you feed can live. He leaves unanswered which one Ben's father August is feeding. In both seasons characters give in to the their better and worse impulses, but in the second season it becomes clearer how much of a factor the fear inside can be.
There were two conversations that stood out specifically. In one, Noah argues that you can't get rid of the fear; you just can't let it overcome you. That is a healthier attitude than the other conversation.
Elizabeth has had a hard time. Watching the woman who seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown over her failure to conceive, it was hard to picture her taking to sheltering runaway slaves with such enthusiasm, but she did. She found a new purpose and new abilities, and found herself held hostage in her home, raped, attacked and branded, mocked by her attacker, pelted when attempting to speak, and her husband was murdered.
She was never going to get good advice from Cato, but she had no way of knowing that.
You could certainly argue that the things he was saying didn't sound like the words of a recently suicidal man. There were reasons for alarm bells to go off.
Elizabeth said she didn't know whether to try and keep the fear inside or let it out. Cato's advice was to pull it all inside and then let it all out, transforming you into a worse monster than the one who hurt you, basically.
And he sounded convincing; Alano Miller is a super-intense actor. Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth commits arson, blackmail, and apparently enters into a sham marriage to get inside information in preparation for the raid on Harper's Ferry. She also participates in a daring raid to free the slaves from three plantations with Noah, but she had participated in a daring raid to rescue Noah before a lot of the terrible things had happened to her and before she had ever thought about becoming a monster.
It's worth remembering that Cato's pretended suicide attempt was an effort to gain sympathy to accelerate his spy work in pursuit of Harriet Tubman. When he is buying the freedom of some slaves, and contributing to causes, it can look like there is a good heart there, but there are other clues that his primary motivation is ego. His belief that he is the necessary force to tear the country apart is easily cast aside in favor of controlling the legend of Patty Cannon.
Even if you ignore moral issues (which I don't recommend), Cato is not the best source of advice because he doesn't seem to have much of a problem with fear. He did fear for Devi briefly, but he turned on her definitively when she rejected his actions. His ego may lead him down bad paths, but it also tells him he is smarter and more capable than everyone else (which is not completely unfounded). Elizabeth would never really want to be like him, even if there is some temporary allure.
Caring for others does hurt. Noah's worst taste of fear comes when he learns that Rosalee is pregnant. It was bad enough fearing for her; now there is so much more at stake. It does lead to anger, but still, his answer is that you cannot let the fear overtake you. You might even take big risks to help another family, and other people, because you know that it matters. (Hence a daring raid freeing slaves from three plantations).
If you don't care about anything you don't have to fear anything, but it's no way to live.
You have to find a way to deal with that fear.
There were two conversations that stood out specifically. In one, Noah argues that you can't get rid of the fear; you just can't let it overcome you. That is a healthier attitude than the other conversation.
Elizabeth has had a hard time. Watching the woman who seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown over her failure to conceive, it was hard to picture her taking to sheltering runaway slaves with such enthusiasm, but she did. She found a new purpose and new abilities, and found herself held hostage in her home, raped, attacked and branded, mocked by her attacker, pelted when attempting to speak, and her husband was murdered.
She was never going to get good advice from Cato, but she had no way of knowing that.
You could certainly argue that the things he was saying didn't sound like the words of a recently suicidal man. There were reasons for alarm bells to go off.
Elizabeth said she didn't know whether to try and keep the fear inside or let it out. Cato's advice was to pull it all inside and then let it all out, transforming you into a worse monster than the one who hurt you, basically.
And he sounded convincing; Alano Miller is a super-intense actor. Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth commits arson, blackmail, and apparently enters into a sham marriage to get inside information in preparation for the raid on Harper's Ferry. She also participates in a daring raid to free the slaves from three plantations with Noah, but she had participated in a daring raid to rescue Noah before a lot of the terrible things had happened to her and before she had ever thought about becoming a monster.
It's worth remembering that Cato's pretended suicide attempt was an effort to gain sympathy to accelerate his spy work in pursuit of Harriet Tubman. When he is buying the freedom of some slaves, and contributing to causes, it can look like there is a good heart there, but there are other clues that his primary motivation is ego. His belief that he is the necessary force to tear the country apart is easily cast aside in favor of controlling the legend of Patty Cannon.
Even if you ignore moral issues (which I don't recommend), Cato is not the best source of advice because he doesn't seem to have much of a problem with fear. He did fear for Devi briefly, but he turned on her definitively when she rejected his actions. His ego may lead him down bad paths, but it also tells him he is smarter and more capable than everyone else (which is not completely unfounded). Elizabeth would never really want to be like him, even if there is some temporary allure.
Caring for others does hurt. Noah's worst taste of fear comes when he learns that Rosalee is pregnant. It was bad enough fearing for her; now there is so much more at stake. It does lead to anger, but still, his answer is that you cannot let the fear overtake you. You might even take big risks to help another family, and other people, because you know that it matters. (Hence a daring raid freeing slaves from three plantations).
If you don't care about anything you don't have to fear anything, but it's no way to live.
You have to find a way to deal with that fear.
December 15, 2017
Band Review: A.J. & Tara
A.J. & Tara are a pop duo from Los Angeles.
I enjoyed them pretty well. Their music has a strong technological influence. I can't swear to the presence of Auto-Tune, but I can't rule it out either. Between that and the synth, the music seems like a natural fit for the club scene. The emphasis on partying in the music tends to agree.
Despite that, there is still an emotion that comes through. The tempos are not endlessly dance-centric, but can also go well as a background to other activities. I thought "Rock The Night" and "Believing" were the best of the four tracks. You will notice similarities between them, but they do not end up being monotonous.
For the niche where it would be easy to place A.J. & Tara, they are better than they need to be.
http://www.ajandtara.com/
https://soundcloud.com/ajandtara/
https://www.youtube.com/user/AJandTara
https://twitter.com/AJandTara
