02Apr / 2010

The Golem

Golem sit in front of new TV.

Golem tell girl how unutterably stupid all the show are for a little while until he notice he spoiling all girl fun. Then he stop.

Golem watch stupid show for a while and cuddle with girl. She put head on Golem shoulder, which give Golem nice, fathery feeling.

Girl turn off TV and they sit and watch black TV. That a little less boring than watch show, just chill and talk.

Girl go to bed. Golem watch TV some more (still off). Golem fight sleep in front of turn off TV. Golem let three cat out. Cat want back in because raining out. Golem notice wind blow shed door open. He go out in rain and put back rock that hold shed door shut. Golem wonder, hey, what that buzz/doorbell sort of ring sound?

Golem figure out doorbell short out in rain.

Golem go out to gate where doorbell button is. Golem reach in slit to wiring and wiggle he finger around to see if something loose.

Neighbor all see Golem skeleton like in cartoon.

Golem pull finger back out. Golem go, Hey, that not 220 volt. You call that 220 volt? Still, Golem have extra spring in step when go back into house.

Doorbell box on wall smell like fire. Box first go Bzzz then Dinnnggggggg then Zzzt and make big spark. Then light all turn off.

Golem look around and determine that all flashlight in house have dead battery or not in right place where suppose to be for state of emergency.

Golem make lot of noise move ladder around in dark. He look at doorbell box with dim light from cell phone. Golem find little tiny screwdriver to fit screw that hold it on and take it off then look around floor with dim light from cell phone for little screw that he drop but he not find it.

Golem take off face plate and loosen two screw inside and take out so doorbell not go Zzzt again when he go out to fuse box and turn light back on. Golem leave ladder there and faceplate off so maybe wife figure situation out when she get up early because have to work while he get to stay home and sleep in on account of holiday.

Golem go to bed. Golem get up later because cat make noise which mean cat want out. Knock stuff off table and stuff.

Cat hide, but Golem know hiding place. Two cat. One cat hide under sofa. That cat dumb and easy to catch. Other cat hard to catch so Golem use science. Golem leave office door open. Cat go downstair, Golem go downstair. Cat go upstair hide in office. Golem go into office close door. Cat corner. Cat go to door, pretend I just normal, good cat, I just want out this door please okay? Golem say, okay kitty. Golem pretend to open door, catch cat. Golem throw out cat. Golem catch easy to catch cat. Golem throw that out too. Sensitive cat also want out, because he not stand all this drama no more.

Fourth cat already outside. So no cat inside! Yay!

Golem go to bed.

Golem wife ask what up with ladder?

Golem tell wife story about doorbell.

Golem and wife sleep. Sweet dream, Golem.

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30Mar / 2010

Sorry, what?

First, before I forget: is the Nissan Cube a good car or is someone playing a joke on hipsters? We test drove one on Saturday and it seemed okay, but it also seemed as if there were a premium being paid for extra design and coolness, sort of like with the MacBook.

Which I also have, of course, and like.

We decided to wait a while and think about it. Chances are I’ll get a van, which would be larger, and yet cheaper.

I have a year or so with my current car, a Mazda 2, I figured. Then this morning the clutch and transmission got very weird all of a sudden, so maybe not a whole year. I’ll be happy if I can drive home, goddamn it.

I hate cars. At least the ones I can afford.

Two guys came into our house this morning and installed a very large television set. This is apparently connected to the guys who came to our house last week and installed a satellite dish on our roof.

Listen: I remember when dad could go to the store and come home with a box, and take a television set out of the box, and plug it in and you were done. You got maybe 3-4 channels, (not over 1000) and sometimes you had to stand there moving the antenna around while someone on the sofa said, “a little more, no, a little more, no, hang on, it was better before, move it back, no the other way,” but that was it. You didn’t have to communicate with a fucking satellite. You didn’t have to have a guy come to the house because he could navigate twenty different fucking menus. You didn’t have to go back to the store to get a different cable to attach your DVD player because there were no DVD players.

And so on.

When I left for work, my wife was watching a show about weather in Germany.

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29Mar / 2010

How to justify your existence

First, get some DNA of the person who invented Daylight Savings Time. Or, not the person who invented it, but the person responsible for propogating it.

Someone is always responsible. If you cannot find them, ask your wife, she’s good at that sort of thing.

Hair or fingernail clippings will suffice. Sew them into a voodoo doll and follow normal voodoo procedures. Cause daylight savings time, man. Seriously.

Then go for a walk while it’s still dark, along the creek. It is five AM, not four AM despite what your phone says. Apparently you forgot the clock on your phone when you were resetting clocks yesterday.

Go walk in the dark. Are you walking? Is it dark? By the time you get to the bridge where you turn right to follow the bike path along the creek, you’re already wondering why you felt it necessary to justify your existence in the first place. A calmer voice in your head is beginning to tell you it’s not necessary. That existence is not something that requires justification.

DO NOT LISTEN TO THIS VOICE. If you want to justify your existence, ignore this voice even though it sounds reasonable.

Christ, it’s dark.

And yet, people are still driving around. Austrians are crazy.

Look who’s talking.

At least they’re not out walking around.

Keep walking until you think of a justification. Spring might work. Does spring justify your existence? Frog eggs? Or a journal full of words? Or the steadiness you can give a child dealing with rapid change? Can you teach someone something, like how to ride a bike or that finger snapping/bottle-cap shooting thing, or throat singing?

If you can teach throat singing, please mail me. I’ve tried to teach myself in the car but I keep passing out, which is dangerous when you’re driving.

There must be some way to justify your existence. Maybe you’re not thinking hard enough.

Maybe you just need a cup of coffee. A little caffeine and all these justifications will pop into your head.

Go back to the house and make some coffee.

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28Mar / 2010

Paris update

So we’ve booked flights and a hotel (one of those recommended by Evalyn, thanks!) and are packing walking shoes and have a list of a few places we want to see, and will otherwise be wandering around. That’s about it. Somehow not having really detailed plans is more relaxing for me than a full schedule would be.

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24Mar / 2010

Something something tortoise something

The tortoise wants out so bad you can taste it. She was scurrying about when I got up at 4.40 to feed the cats (was gotten up). Caught her in the middle of hte kitchen floor when I turned on the lights, like a cockroach. Now she’s running laps, her claws scratching the tiles sound like a wheezing businessman running laps in a deserted Y.

She never gives up. I reiterate, I know. She is one of the lucky ones. We all are. Thanks to a long – infinitely long, or at least immeasurably long series of highly unlikely occurrences, we are here. In all likelihood we shouldn’t be. According to the laws of probability. But we are. Because we were lucky. We call it lucky. We here at the tip of the long tail. Because luck got us here, we believe in it. We worship it every week in line for our lottery tickets. We have ceremonies and riguals to guarantee it, like baptisms, weddings, and funerals.

When the tortoise runs her circles, though, something else is going through her mind. Science. She is thinking about science. Through her millions of years of evolution she has learned to make her luck. She doesn’t sit in a shady spot, or in a sunbeam wishing for it. She, usually (unless she is resting or digesting, or fucking her rock (she might not be female, in fact)) walks the perimeters of her existence, seeking an exit. The exit will not come to her, it has to be found. She has to go to it. And she is seeking, not trying to work magic. Because she knows that this amazing series of accidents that is our universe will at some point create a situation she can seize to get what she wants. A door will be left open, a section of fence will fall over, a plant will grow bushy enough to support her weight, and she will climb out.

And although highly unlikely, these possibilities are less unlikely at the perimeter than at the safe center. A tortoise does not believe in fairy godmothers. It believes in pellets of food, lettuce, a water dish, a little house, daytime and night time, hot and cold, hiding and seeking, marching the perimeter, finding a hole and climbing out. It believes in what it has observed and experienced, not in what it wants.

Tortoises invented science, science defined as observing without prejudice and using what is real and what works. Tortoises don’t disbelieve in God but they don’t pray either.

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19Mar / 2010

Escatology

Escatology: Theological doctrine concerned with the world ending in shit.

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18Mar / 2010

Things I learned after 10 years of cello lessons

Have you heard of the Black Hole endpin stop? Have you? Have you heard of it? Because if you haven’t, let me be the one to tell you it’s awesome. You know those portable holes some cartoon character used to carry around and use to escape with?

Maybe it was Wile E. Coyote, maybe it was someone else. I can’t remember right now. I’m getting conflicting signals when I try. [Edit: Looney Tunes, apparently. Thanks, Anne. ] But remember what a cool idea that seemed like?

Anyway, after 10 years of battling with a big T made of wood scraps that I wedged beneath my chair when I practiced, to stick the end of my endpin into, I discovered the Black Hole, a black rubber disk about 4 inches in diameter, with a hole in the center to hold the end of your endpin. It is made of a rubber that is non-skid on wooden or tile floors. It is said to be washable if it gets too dusty to grip the floor anymore.

It fits in your pocket. No more giant wooden T. I love it, and not only because of its name. But partly because of its name.

Second thing I learned about playing cello:

Don’t forget to breathe.

I am quite good at holding my breath. I can go two minutes. I can swim two laps underwater, if the pool is not too big. I apparently can play an entire tune without taking a breath, too, without keeling over off my chair. But that is not enough. Holding your breath affects your playing.

Who knew?

Ruth, you there?

Anyway, breathing. As if fingering and bowing at the same time wasn’t hard enough already.

Also: I’m getting really tired of Bach? Not to diss Bach, I love his music. It is just taking me forever to learn this tune I’m working on. How do you find a tune to work on that is both enjoyable and at the proper difficulty level? That is my problem, ignorant of music as I am. I hear something exquisite, want to learn it and then am all Holy Toledo! when I get a look at the notes, usually.

So I’m trying to compose something. A little something. About grunion.

I even – this is really awesome – I even met with a composer to discuss what I’ve come up with so far. He didn’t seem all that impressed about the grunion, but that’s okay. What I found cool was that he wasn’t even interested in hearing the MP3 my composing program (Finale) had generated. He just spread out the notes and heard it that way. That is not something I can do, so I was impressed.

[Edit: I tried breathing yesterday. It makes a huge difference. I had thought, Great, breathing, a third thing to worry about besides left hand /intonation and right hand / bowing. But it actually seemed to lessen the panic and /or frustration I often feel while playing, and was really groovy.]

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