America! You went and placed your national music museum in Vermillion, South Dakota. That’s logical because John Philip Sousa played there that one day in the fall of 1926 and Shawn Colvin was born there before immediately moving away to grow up elsewhere but… You put hundreds of millions of dollars worth of instruments in a place that doesn’t have a full airport or any other sites of interest to the international traveller! I’m kind of miffed at you.
I was scrolling through and saw some nifty looking wood plugs for those who like stretching their lobes. “What a great way to use up scraps of exotic wood!”, I thought. Then I immediately had second thoughts. A lot of the plugs I’ve seen seem to be made from species that are known sensitizers like Cordia and Dalbergia. Prolonged contact can bring on allergic reactions. Some exotic woods contain toxic compounds. A few woodworkers in my acquaintance have experienced severe reactions from a single contact with woods like Cocobolo rosewood. Be careful with that stuff. It’s probably best if the wood is surrounded with another inert material.
I wish I were better with languages. I had a lovely dinner with the parents of a friend who are visiting from Alsace. Roland is interested in instruments and various woods. I found myself speaking entirely in nouns and adverbs. If French is being spoken I will nod my head and comprehend most of what is being said, but trying to formulate a sentence makes me feel shy and foolish.
His mother said I look like a Cossack. I think she meant it in a good way.
Friday thoughts: Happy 420 for those into such things. I’m pro-legalization for a number of reasons, because I think hemp is a fabulous plant.
C. brought home a dvd from the library with old Ed Sullivan shows shown in their entirety including commercials. The ads were amazing and I’m surprised nobody is seriously trying to recreate the style for modern use. They make one sit up and take notice in a way current spots can’t compete with. Something about the crispness of the delivery - the enunciation especially.
My friend the kidney stone has found itself a home in a place that is not my kidney and it’s making *me* sit up and take notice in a way even 60’s ads can’t compare with. Fascinating, but I’m dreading the climax of its little adventure.
Ugh. Sometimes I think I should start another tumblr devoted only to my thoughts on life as a fat person but I’m not sure I want all the grief from being a provocateur. I’m currently having a facebook debate with a woman who is legitimately the most intelligent person I’ve ever known on the topic of French parenting style vs. American and its relation to childhood obesity. We used to claw at each other for the highest marks in elementary school. Some things never change. Others do, as she’s now a professor at Rice and my debating skills are a little rusty.
This is the black-metallest accordion I have ever seen. Tr00 kvlt and etc.
-Yes. It only plays Burzum and Darkthrone.
True story. When my friend Sigie arrived from Shanghai her parents wanted to make sure she would assimilate musically with her class so they asked someone what the whitest instrument was. She had lessons with a bigshot polka star from the 30’s.
So, I’ve seen discussion on-line wondering why the U.S. doesn’t just accept and “assimilate” Latinos and some even think it’s gonna happen “soon” cause it happened for the “irish and the italians why not the hispanics?” or something like that. And I’ve always thought it was a curious question…
This is a rather brilliant observation on the mechanism of assimilation. I remember having a discussion with a young man visiting Canada from New Zealand who pondered aloud what the differences were at play in Canadian verses American territorial expansion and the introduction of groups from diverse cultural backgrounds.
The streamlined answer we were fed in Social Studies classes suggested that America was a “melting pot” and Canada was a “tossed salad”. That analogue was as unsatisfying then as it is now. True, “becoming Canadian” as a concept does not ring with the weight of Ellis Island. I think we expect that newcomers will settle in pockets of cultural density but there isn’t that division of wholesale uniform Canadian identity verses the individual minority culture. We might be seen as a nation of “others”.
At least that’s what we like to tell ourselves. In practice our municipal government systems in large urban centers sometimes accentuate the cultural divide. You might find, say, a electoral riding comprised of 90% Sikh voters rubbing up against the 90% turnout of Hindu voters next door. It makes for an interesting discourse.
My day started with zombie movies and breakfast in bed. Granted, I was the one who made breakfast but it’s hard to think of a better way to get things rolling.
Objectively I worked too hard today. There are times when I realize that I’m doing something that I won’t be paid for. I guess it’s part and parcel with working for a demanding clientele that wants something unique. Problem-solving comes into play and it’s very hard to quote on unknowns. Usually I come close. Sometimes it’s, “Nice. I made about a dollar for that last hour’s work.”