March 30, 2014
Moving In
March 29, 2014
Exuberance
If you know a little about mrsguy, you know that I have many hours of 1940s Mexican music digitized and in my iTunes library. The reason for this is that I love 78s, and while helping to clean my great aunt Gertrude's attic many years ago I ended up inheriting a suitcase full of her records. I dutifully hauled them back to the west coast and thereby fell in love with Mexican orchestra music on the Peerless label. Nobody can quite explain why Gertie had this trove of Mexican music in her big old house off Rock Creek Park in DC, other than the fact that she and my grandmother were from the Texas panhandle. Hello Wichita Falls, Electra and Punkin Center!
Anyhoo as Kenney Dale Johnson, another Panhandlerian, would say, I fell in love with the music and have continued to collect, all these years later, music on the Peerless label (especially the vocals of Manuelita Arriola, Marta Triana, and Hermanas Padilla).
Speaking of Mexican music, one of the great musical events of my young adulthood in the big city was being home one night when the people next door were having a party where a mariachi band played. I was so happy that I threw open the windows and played along on my bass.
I retold this story to mrguy a few weeks after we moved to this house, in December, as I saw the next door neighbors setting up a bouncy castle and a pinata. Maybe they'll have a band! Yeah, right.
Toward dusk I came home from trimming the grand mamoo's Christmas tree only to find that my dreams had come true. The next door neighbors' party was in full swing, with an 18 piece brass band in the back yard. As our house overlooks theirs, I had a full view. Trumpets, trombones, clarinets, timbales, tubas -- louder than can be believed. All manned by young people, the oldest probably 18. It was fabulous. I poured a glass of wine and watched from the deck for 30 minutes or so. When the light went down I turned on all the lights in the house in the hope that they'd be able to play longer.
The next day at the salad bar at work, I ran into a neighbor friend who told me he could hear the party about 1/4 mile away. That's some sound, people.
This Monday, we were having a quiet evening at home. Mrguy was was dj-ing with some friends on the internet, and I was watching the real housewives. Then the music started. I went out front to watch. Mrguy went out to the deck. I came back in and joined him. I was so excited to hear the music that I ran out onto the deck and closed the glass door quickly so the cats wouldn't get out. Then I heard a thunk -- it had locked behind me. The good news is that you can't get back into the house from the deck. The bad news is somewhat similar. Additional good news was that there were people on the street. Additional bad news was that it was so loud that nobody could hear me yell for help. Eventually, between songs, I coaxed two guys who were smoking cigarettes across the street to come over and assist. Mrguy dropped his keys down to one of them and he let himself into our house and freed us from our deck.
All for the love of music, Man.
Anyhoo as Kenney Dale Johnson, another Panhandlerian, would say, I fell in love with the music and have continued to collect, all these years later, music on the Peerless label (especially the vocals of Manuelita Arriola, Marta Triana, and Hermanas Padilla).
Speaking of Mexican music, one of the great musical events of my young adulthood in the big city was being home one night when the people next door were having a party where a mariachi band played. I was so happy that I threw open the windows and played along on my bass.
I retold this story to mrguy a few weeks after we moved to this house, in December, as I saw the next door neighbors setting up a bouncy castle and a pinata. Maybe they'll have a band! Yeah, right.
Toward dusk I came home from trimming the grand mamoo's Christmas tree only to find that my dreams had come true. The next door neighbors' party was in full swing, with an 18 piece brass band in the back yard. As our house overlooks theirs, I had a full view. Trumpets, trombones, clarinets, timbales, tubas -- louder than can be believed. All manned by young people, the oldest probably 18. It was fabulous. I poured a glass of wine and watched from the deck for 30 minutes or so. When the light went down I turned on all the lights in the house in the hope that they'd be able to play longer.
The next day at the salad bar at work, I ran into a neighbor friend who told me he could hear the party about 1/4 mile away. That's some sound, people.
This Monday, we were having a quiet evening at home. Mrguy was was dj-ing with some friends on the internet, and I was watching the real housewives. Then the music started. I went out front to watch. Mrguy went out to the deck. I came back in and joined him. I was so excited to hear the music that I ran out onto the deck and closed the glass door quickly so the cats wouldn't get out. Then I heard a thunk -- it had locked behind me. The good news is that you can't get back into the house from the deck. The bad news is somewhat similar. Additional good news was that there were people on the street. Additional bad news was that it was so loud that nobody could hear me yell for help. Eventually, between songs, I coaxed two guys who were smoking cigarettes across the street to come over and assist. Mrguy dropped his keys down to one of them and he let himself into our house and freed us from our deck.
All for the love of music, Man.
March 28, 2014
March 24, 2014
Bye, House
As of Friday, we're done.
We signed the final papers on Thursday, and by 1pm on Friday the new owners had started moving in.
In an interesting twist, one of the buyers is also a recording engineer. Mrguy left them a bottle of champagne and a CD that was partially recorded there.
We wish them well. And on to a new chapter where we live in one house only.
Whew.
Thank You, YDC!
Thank you, Yokozuna Deliberation Committee, for nominating ozeki Kakuryu as sumo's next yokozuna. He's good, he works hard, and it'll be fun to have three grand champions at once.
Thank you YDC for giving up on your great Japanese hope, Kisenosato. Lowering your standards in the hopes that Kisenosato will prevail only makes you look (more) xenophobic. It isn't a gift to him, either. Who wants to be the grand champion who got in on a technicality?
Thank you Kisenosato for repeatedly choking when the YDC sets low standards. Maybe they'll leave you alone now and you can shine as a really good ozeki without all of the additional pressure of promotion.
Thank you, Endo, for being the next great Japanese hope. Your hair isn't even long enough for a mage yet, but you're a comer and probably have the chance.
I love you, sumo!
March 7, 2014
The Egg
Last week's adventure in medicine involved a trip to the eye doctor. With an eyelid swollen, and a trip on the horizon, I visited the doctor. Blepharitis is creeping back in.
The March sumo basho is almost upon us, so I was wearing a sumo-themed t-shirt, jeans and some tabi shoes. The ladies at the front desk thought the shoes were just HILARIOUS, and asked if they could take a picture of them for their Instagram. On the way out, the doctor said "You know what she is, right? She's an egg. White on the outside, yellow on the inside." The way she said it I'm pretty sure that she meant it in a non-derogatory way.
But I got home, looked in the Urban Dictionary and saw the term defined a white person who wants to be Asian.
Hmm. Now I'm getting a complex.
I do love Japan. I do dream of travel in Asia often. I do subscribe to TV Japan so we can watch sumo. But I like a lot of things from other cultures (pork floss! tapas! 40s Mexican orchestra music! Hawaiian music!), sometimes deeply so, and with an awareness that you can't assimilate. Nor would I want to. But as a person who flies her freak flag freely, I'm not keeping my passions to myself.
I don't know what I am, but I think I'm not an egg.
The March sumo basho is almost upon us, so I was wearing a sumo-themed t-shirt, jeans and some tabi shoes. The ladies at the front desk thought the shoes were just HILARIOUS, and asked if they could take a picture of them for their Instagram. On the way out, the doctor said "You know what she is, right? She's an egg. White on the outside, yellow on the inside." The way she said it I'm pretty sure that she meant it in a non-derogatory way.
But I got home, looked in the Urban Dictionary and saw the term defined a white person who wants to be Asian.
Hmm. Now I'm getting a complex.
I do love Japan. I do dream of travel in Asia often. I do subscribe to TV Japan so we can watch sumo. But I like a lot of things from other cultures (pork floss! tapas! 40s Mexican orchestra music! Hawaiian music!), sometimes deeply so, and with an awareness that you can't assimilate. Nor would I want to. But as a person who flies her freak flag freely, I'm not keeping my passions to myself.
I don't know what I am, but I think I'm not an egg.
Madrid, Ho!
The reveal was revealing. There were 16 offers. One (albeit low) was all-cash.
It's customary these days for a buyer to write a letter to the seller. We did this when buying both of our houses. One couple had a 15-year-old cat, loved New Zealand and wanted to make this their home. Both they and another buyer volunteered that they'd continue our position in the neighborhood disaster preparedness group. You want to choose them all. In the end we took the high offer -- a father and son buying the house together for the son and his girlfriend to live in. Like mrguy, he's a recording engineer.
We'll see how it goes. Could fall apart, but the early stages have been promising and the sums we're talking about are not small, so the high offer really was higher.
In the meantime, our band has been asked to play at the Aloha Festival. The kumu hula we're working with has decided upon the theme of "Colors of Hawaii" for their set. This means playing a lot of hapa haole songs (Blue Hawaii, Pretty Red Hibiscus). I draw the line at "Little Brown Gal." Your "Colors of Hawaii" are not allowed to refer to the colors of people.
Also happening this week is a nasty cold that's had me laid up for days. After trying several cold preparations without any relief, I finally approached the pharmacist at CVS and said "Here are my symptoms. What active ingredient should I look for?" He suggests Claritin, but I find a little Mucinex D and an Alka Seltzer plus nightcap seem to work, as well. This morning I awoke feeling a little better, which is great because I get on a plane in ten hours and I don't want to have that icepick in the ear sensation that happens when your cold goes into your eustachian tubes.
I haven't even packed, but I do this trip regularly enough that I can get it together fairly quickly. Then tomorrow I'll be in Madrid. The Prado, the flea market, and forklift work at the museum.
It's customary these days for a buyer to write a letter to the seller. We did this when buying both of our houses. One couple had a 15-year-old cat, loved New Zealand and wanted to make this their home. Both they and another buyer volunteered that they'd continue our position in the neighborhood disaster preparedness group. You want to choose them all. In the end we took the high offer -- a father and son buying the house together for the son and his girlfriend to live in. Like mrguy, he's a recording engineer.
We'll see how it goes. Could fall apart, but the early stages have been promising and the sums we're talking about are not small, so the high offer really was higher.
In the meantime, our band has been asked to play at the Aloha Festival. The kumu hula we're working with has decided upon the theme of "Colors of Hawaii" for their set. This means playing a lot of hapa haole songs (Blue Hawaii, Pretty Red Hibiscus). I draw the line at "Little Brown Gal." Your "Colors of Hawaii" are not allowed to refer to the colors of people.
Also happening this week is a nasty cold that's had me laid up for days. After trying several cold preparations without any relief, I finally approached the pharmacist at CVS and said "Here are my symptoms. What active ingredient should I look for?" He suggests Claritin, but I find a little Mucinex D and an Alka Seltzer plus nightcap seem to work, as well. This morning I awoke feeling a little better, which is great because I get on a plane in ten hours and I don't want to have that icepick in the ear sensation that happens when your cold goes into your eustachian tubes.
I haven't even packed, but I do this trip regularly enough that I can get it together fairly quickly. Then tomorrow I'll be in Madrid. The Prado, the flea market, and forklift work at the museum.
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