A dog, a brown boulder,
visible through the chain link,
listens for her only friend.
A whistle—a call to greet
the open gate—and she bolts,

unbound by the drab lot.
A flatbed backs and stops,
grinds to first, and barges off.
Red-dirt flags of dust unfurl
over mountains of tires.

A trailer is unlocked
to bring out a sack of food.
Her muzzle chomps,
down in her bowl,
beneath a live oak’s shelter.

A cigar ash grows
and the sun
expands a kudzu vine
to hide the bumpers, hoods,
and fenders that go nowhere.

A junkyard is a strange and somewhat mysterious place.  We think of it as a dead end, both for automobiles and the people who work there.  Most of us do not visit them.  Many of us don’t even know where to find one.  Often, they are physically hidden in out of the way places behind large fences or hills.

Junkyards serve us by hiding our trash (and material excess).  They also provide used parts and a lot of scrap metal that can be recycled and reused.  They are part of the landscape of industrial society: rows and rows of cars sprawled over acres of fields.

The people who work there could be considered hidden servants of our society.  They take responsibility for our castoffs and capitalize on the value that remains in those old cars.  Wise junkyard operators are concerned to protect their asset, thus, the junkyard dog.

In this poem, the dog works at night and is greeted by its master at opening time.  Intruders are rare, therefore the dog has a “drab lot.”  But, come morning, there is anticipation of contact with the master and the enjoyment of food and rest.

I tried to represent the hidden and lonely yard from the perspective of the dog as a metaphor for individuals who work hard and faithfully in jobs that are invisible to most of society.  The animal is approached by none but the master, who knows it well enough to do so.  The dog does not wish to be friends with any but the master.  It is doing what it has been bred and trained to do, i.e. be an enemy to all.  This is hard work for the dog and only the master’s appearance brings rest.  The oak tree and the kudzu are metaphors for rest.  Like a blanket of green, the kudzu protects the car parts while the dog is gone (during the day).  Rest is given from above (the sun causing kudzu to grow) and often in mundane ways (dust settling like a blanket on the tires).

We live in a castaway society where people are forgotten, or regarded as shameful, if they do not provide pleasure, entertainment, or a return on our investment.  In the poem, the master’s provision of food and companionship, the tree, the kudzu, and dust settling on the tires are metaphorical coverings for the shame of castaway people and things.

I also tried to say something about contentment with one’s calling or lot in life.  The dog is satisfied to do its work, receive its daily chow, and take shelter beneath the tree.  It is thankful and waits patiently for the one friend who truly cares.

The cigar ash is a metaphor for the slow steady burn of a man’s workaday life (within which are comforts and joy).  I ended with the cigar image because I am really talking about the human experience of work and life, not a dog’s.

“Music” for Photohunt

When  I  was  young,  there  was  an  old  Parsi  couple  who  lived  across  the stairwell  in  our  block  of  flats.  As  old  Mr.  Taraporewala  climbed  painfully  up the  stairs,  he’d  whistle,  sometimes  mournful  tunes  or  recent  Hindi  movie jingles,  but  most  of  his  repertoire  consisted  of  what  I  suspected  were  self compositions.  Mr.  Taraporewala  was  quite  old,  and  rather  decrepit,  but  his whistling was loud, and limpid. I could hear it when he climbed the first step, and  would  hear  it  till  he  went  inside  his  house,  where  I  supposed  his  wifeshut him up.
For  that  was  what  my  parents  did,  when  I  proudly  displayed  my  newskill  to  them.  (I  had  practised  for  two  whole  months,  listening  to  Mr.Taraporewala’s  operatic  arias  for  inspiration  as  he  climbed  the  fifty‐odd  stepsto  his  flat).  Mildly  disappointed  by  my  parents’  lack  of  enthusiasm,  Idemonstrated  my  virtuosity  to  other  relatives  and  my  family,  only  to  be  metwith  greater  hostility.  “Don’t  whistle,”  I  was  told,  “only  rowdies  do.”  “Becareful,” my grandmother warned, “you’ll get thieves into the house.”

I  was  to  learn,  slowly  and  torturously,  through  rebuffs,admonishments  and  cautions,  that  a  considerable  animosity  exists  towardswhistling. Whistling lies somewhere in a grey zone between bad manners andbeing  wrong  for  superstitious  reasons.  In  a  1921  manual  of  etiquette  writtenby  ‘The  Deans  of  Girls  in  Chicago  High  Schools’,  we  are  told  that  whistling  isimproper  as  it  is  annoying  in  its  gratuitous  nature,  and  should  never  beindulged  in  at  school.  In  south  India,  whistling  is  common,  but  it’s  also‘common’,  and  not  something  that  a  well‐bred  (Brahmin)  child  would  do.Russians  believe  that  whistling  indoors  is  bad  (it  whistles  the  money  away),but  whistling  outdoors  is  acceptable.  There  seems  to  be a  particular  anathemato  whistling  indoors  (and  after  dark):  in  Serbia,  this  peccadillo  risks  invasionby mice, and in Japan and India, by snakes or thieves.
There  appears  to  be  a  stronger  taboo  on  women  whistling.  The  1921manual  further  instructs:  ‘Girls,  it  is  poor  policy  to  call  up  boys  often  bytelephone,  and  bad  manners  to  whistle  to  attract  their  attention’.  An  old  Irishproverb,  (apocryphally  attributed  to  the  Bible),  goes  like  this:  A  whistlingwoman  and  a  crowing  hen  are  both  abominations  to  the  Lordʺ.  Is  this  interdict  onfemale  whistling  related  to  the  fact  that  there  is  something  lewd,  voyeuristicand  lascivious  about  whistling?  (‘Whistling  Willie’,  a  statue  of  William  ofOrange  in  Rutgers  University,  supposedly  whistles  whenever  a  virgin  walksby.)
Do  the  puckered  lips  of  a  whistler  resemble  lips  asking  for  a  kiss?  If  so,then  women  are  probably  denied  the  pleasure  of  whistling  as  it  is  believed  toindicate  a  libertine  disposition.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  whistling,despite  being  frowned  upon,  is  understood  to  be  a  purely  masculine  sport.That  explains  the  Irish  proverb  portraying  whistling  women  as  somethingunnatural.  Some  feminists  interpret  the  proverb  to  reinforce  the  paradigmthat  women  are  voiceless,  metaphorically  and  literally  (and  some  whistle  forthat very reason).
There  are,  however,  places  on  Earth  where  whistling,  either  by  men  orwomen,  isn’t  discouraged.  In  a  small  island  in  the  North  Atlantic,  in  fact,whistling  is  the  primary  method  of  communication.  The  inhabitants  of  LaGomera,  in  the  Canary  Islands,  ‘speak’  a  language  that  consists  exclusively  ofwhistles.  ‘Silbadors’,  or  those  who  speak  the  Silbo  Gomero  language,  use  fourvowels  and  four  consonants  to    create  any  of  the  four  thousand  odd  words  inthe  Silbo  Gomero  vocabulary.  The  whistling  of  a  Silbador  travels  across  theravines  that  radiate  through  the  island,  often  up  to  three  kilometres  away.  OnLa  Gomera,  the  local  government,  clearly  having  not  read  the  Chicago  Deansof  Girls’  Schools’  Manual,  makes  it  compulsory  for  school  children  to  learn  towhistle,  and  to  whistle  well,  just  as  Chicago  Girls’  Schools  teaches  girls  tospeak well.
There  are  many  who  posit  that  whistling  is  not  merely  the  tool  of  thelayabout  and  the  rascal.  They  see  whistling  not  merely  as  a  legitimate  meansof  expression,  but  as  a  creative  art  form.  One  of  them,  Ronnie  Ronalde,  aBritish  music  hall  singer  in  the  twentieth  century,  popularized  whistling,performing  for  over  seven  decades.  Even  in  India,  country  of  a  millionreligious  rules,  whistling  is  gaining  acceptance,  perhaps  due  to  the  activitiesof  the  Indian  Whistling  Association,  which  holds  whistling  competitions  andeven publishes a magazine dedicated to whistling.
Whistling  has  been  around  for  as  long  as  anyone  cares  to  remember.  ‘Iwill  hiss  for  them,  and  gather  them;  for  I  have  redeemed  them:  and  they  shallincrease  as  they  have  increased.’  (Zechariah  10:8,  King  James).  ‘Hiss’  in  mostcontemporary  editions  of  the  Bible  is  understood  to  mean  ‘whistle’. Recentevidence  suggests  that  whistling—using  man  made  whistles—has  beenaround  for  the  past  100,000  years.  In  the  Prolom‐II  archaeological  site  inCrimea,  scientists  have  discovered  whistles  made  by  Neanderthal  Man  fromphalanges  of  ungulates  and  other  animals,  such  as  cave  bear.  These  are  theoldest  sound‐producing  devices  in  Europe,  and  these  whistles  can  be  tracedfrom the Palaeolithic Age to the present day.
Every  year,  ardent  whistlers  flock  to  Louisburg,  a  small  town  in  theUnited States that earns its fame by hosting the annual International WhistlersConvention.  Now  in  its  29th  year,  the  Convention  attracts  competitors  fromall  over  the  world,  who  come  to  take  part  in  a  four  day  festival  of  whistling.Adult  competitors  are  judged  by  a  panel  of  music  professionals  who  userigorous  methods  to  score  them.  Many  of  the  whistlers  attend  every  year,members of a minority so estranged from the rest of the world that theyʹre theonly  ones  who  understand  each  other.  One  of  the  whistlers  at  last  year’sConvention  was  author  Dorothy  West,  who  ranked  whistling  with  writing  asher  chief  talents.  Another  whistler  at  the  Convention,  a  Washington  Gasexecutive,  despite  being  aphasic  from  Alzheimerʹs,  could  whistle  churchmusic for hours.
However,  the  Deans  of  Chicago  Girls’  Schools  are  right,  (even  old  MrTaraporewala  could  only  whistle  freely  outside  his  house)  and  I  mustacknowledge  that  whistling  is  a  little  wearying  to  others,  especially  if  thewhistler  thinks  very  highly  of  his  skill,  or  needs  to  practise  it  often  (as  I  do).An  inveterate  whistler,  I  am  sometimes  surprised  by  the  jokes  made  at  mywhistling;  (like  that  I  can  be  heard  in  one  block  from  another).  I  mustacquiesce  to  the  assertion  that  every  successful  whistler  must  be  thankful  tothat  woman  who  put  up  with  our  whistling  when  we  were  still  on  the  steepend  of  our  learning  curve—Anna  McNeill—or  as  we  more  commonly  knowher, Whistler’s Mother.

is this why you brought me here?
to steal a bird whistle
I could have wired by myself?
I wouldn’t have knelt
for five hundred miles.
I would have stayed where I was
already known for my deep bow.

If I fail my Exam, I’ll tell your pimp to fire you. Anna Goldstienberg.

So recently I’ve been taking my bell (think hotel service bell) around with me in public. It pretty much instantly attracts attention (mostly confused, amused and positive) and starts conversations. It’s like that time I wore a party hat in public and interesting people talked to me randomly and I got free ice-cream.

I’ve recently been looking up various instruments that I can also add to my arsenal for personal use. So far i’ve bought an airhorn, and considering a whistle (sold by a non profit charity, also the design is pretty rad). I bought a friend a old school bell town criers used to use. Shit, that would have been awesome, oh well.

Instrument-wise, i’ve been quite harsh on my selection of possible instruments to use in my current instrument addiction phase. I’m considering get a trumpet (mainly to make fun of Timmy Trumpet), mini piano, loudspeaker, a cowbell and an accordion (i’d rather not spend over $100 for a joke).

So far i’ve rejected the following ideas:
tambourine (I’m not a hippie)
Bagpipes (This would just be annoying and an inconvenience to carry and learn to play, not that it requires any skill to play or anything…)
Claves (I’m not a monk)
Kazoo (Yeah.. No)
Maracas (I actually own a pair, though it is very ‘boy from oz’)
Bongos (you can only create like 5 beats on a congo and they all sound average)

Segue
Yesterday I went to the Nas concert with Q*bert and Supernatural. I prepared for Supernatural by trying to find random objects that would throw him off guard. Fruit or vegetables… meh, meat… hmm possibility, powdered soup mix… hmmm very random, No Salt (alternative low sodium salt substitute).. Bingo. The chick at the counter fucked up the sale and put the item through as bird food, nicely done, you can’t even type a few numbers on a register and realize that ‘No salt’ isn’t bird food. Enjoy your failed life. Technically since the price (and Item) was wrongly scanned I should have got the item for free, meh. I took $100 cash out, told her she fucked up the scan and she ignored me, nice, I saw it as an atm fee and left.

Went to a friends place, watched them make pizza, got several messages from another group of friends to hurry up and come to their place, left, ran to the concert, they still weren’t there, ran into several more friends, they finally came, Q-bert came on, Supernatural came on and this:
He freestyled and rapped for a while, Cool, But as he was about to finish, He told everyone to dig into their pockets and that he would freestyle about anything he grabs. He sees my ‘no salt’ and confetti and says “this guy came prepared”. Q*bert drops a beat and Supernat grabs by items. He freestyled an awesome verse about confetti that I can’t remember at all and then swung the box and confetti went everywhere. The crowd went wild. The he started to freestyle about my ‘No Salt’. Amazingly he freestyled a really witty verse about “no sodium for this guy” or something and threw it back to me. Crowd went wild.

He moved on and did a few more awesome verses, then I remembered I had my bell in my pocket. He grabbed it and said “…I never stop rocking til I hit that bell”
*ding*. Crowd went wild. I asked the security guy to give my bell back and he was being a capital dick and wouldn’t return it. I looked through my phone and found a photo I took of it a while back and showed it to him, he reluctantly gave it back.

Nas came on next, He was pretty awesome.
(I’m assuming that was the shortest review for a headline act ever)

Actually:
There was this woman right? and throughout Nas, she kept extending her arm and yelled Nas. This would seem normal right? but in her fingers was a friendship bracelet. I’m …pretty sure Nas has been offered just about everything, from sex, drugs, drinks, etc, But this woman thinks that Nas will go down and get this looped yarn from her. Ridiculous.

Met Sampology and Charlie Hustle after the show and they found my items amusing and took a photo, then I got a picture with Supernatural after the show, holding onto my no salt, confetti and bell.

The kids I were with decided to go to the valley, I had shorts on, but reluctantly went, on the way I threw confetti and made a trail of ‘no salt’ and even gave it a taste. ‘No salt’, No thanks. I’d take high sodium content salt anyday.

They wanted to go to Alhumbra, the security guard wouldn’t let me in, I was tired anyway but thought I might as well try to talk my way in just for the hell of it. I said the guy in front of me had shorts on, the guard goes “oh shit” and tells him that he can’t come it. I say “ooh… shit. I didn’t mean it..”, the guy had an European accent and was confused and upset that we was getting kicked out. I said to the bouncer that it was he’s last day in Australia and that he has cancer. I don’t think he heard me becuase he still wouldn’t let him in. Later the door chick let both of us in. I let her touch my bell-end.

Inside was pretty boring to be honest. I left everyone as they went to a different club. Apperantly they went to Gloria Jeans after I left, how gangster, Cafe after a Hip Hop show…

On the way home I met some people I knew that went to the concert.

The end.

I wrote about him before. I learned more this weekend. Not enough to teach, but enough to keep me occupied for a while.

The pictures are the view you would have had you passed by his booth at about 3:50 pm on Sunday, 10-25-09. It was like this till about 4:30 pm. The fair ended at 4:00 sharp. Everyone around was busily striking tent, me included. The whistle guy was serenely making the money for his hotel that night, gas and highways fees.

So what is his secret? That is really the question. Standing in my booth all day I saw a couple of the whistles he sells hanging around the necks of children. I commented to the parents about their purchase from the whistle guy. Without fail they replied with enthusiasm. Either they had just bought it or in a couple of cases they had taken their whistle, purchased a few years ago, to have maintenance. Let me sharpen what he is selling a little further in order to make the case that what he is really selling isn’t whistles. The starter whistle is about 3 cm. long, high-pitched with only an end hole to modulate the pitch to an even higher pitch. Read, very annoying to those around. But the parents and children alike are very excited about these products. A step up from the starter is a whistle that can mimic the recorder all Japanese school children learn on. There is a deluxe model that does all kinds of wonderous things I am sure. Price wise they start at 1,200 yen up to 3,800 yen.

So, the lesson I take away from him this year is of consistency, service, a solid product that people want.

Consistency in the sense that I think he builds up an audience of fans over the course of a couple of years. If the fair is a flop my guess is it would have to be a flop a number of years for him to quit, at least according to what I have heard from him.

Service in the sense of after sale maintenance mainly. I have consistently heard that as a point of excitement or endorsement from some of his customers I have engaged in conversation.

A solid product. He makes whistles. Very pedestrian. In fact kind of the perfect product to study. If you can build a tribe of whistle fans I put forth you can build a tribe of any kind of fans. I am of course giving short shrift to all those who want to belabor the point of the universality of music, etc.

The thing I hear most often from artists selling work is that the work doesn’t fit the audience, read the customers are not able to understand the work.

That the high sellers have sold out.

That they, the high sellers have a great product and ….?.

The customers don’t want to spend.

I am only here to get contacts, not to sell.

I am an artiste.  I guess the implication is that sales are below the person.

During this craft fair I made my mantra, used selectively, only said in my head, “You should buy it.” I was surprised at how often it worked. At the least it made me smile outwardly. I have often had people come up, praise the work, comment repeatedly at how inexpensively it is priced and then walk away without purchasing anything. Armed with my mantra I found it easy to look at the whole process of these types as something to smile at.

Modern + Folk = Oxymoron?    Jonquil prove otherwise.

Yet another band hailing from Oxford is the progressive folk sextet Jonquil. Despite being part of the same group of friends as YOUM and Foals, Jonquil have swapped party rhythms and spiky math beats for flowing acoustic melodies and sea shanty sing-alongs. This does not mean that they have been left in some archaic alternate reality inhabited by people wearing thick woolen jumpers however. Early tracks from the band certainly expose their influence from their Oxford brethren and they are never afraid to combine samples with a squeezebox. Whistle Low the title track from the band’s first EP contains a repeated guitar riff that if played on a Stratocaster through a variety of pedals and switches as opposed to an acoustic guitar would not sound so out of place on a Foals album. The modern influences melded with classic techniques do not end here, their first album, Lions, is beautifully crafted combining very subtle modern electronic sounds and uses a technique of linking tracks together by sampling voices and other recordings which is reminiscent of classic Pink Floyd albums. These modern inorganic techniques are used very subtly in Jonquil’s music just to polish off and modernise the beautiful flowing melodies and sea shanty-esque sing-alongs created by their huge range of acoustic instruments and vocal styles. The music Jonquil create and the skill with which they play it makes it ideal for live performance and they have gained a reputation for cozy sing along gigs, this trait is epitomized by the title track from Lions. A track that runs at under two minutes but creates such an instantaneous atmosphere that you feel compelled to join in before you even know the words. This instant creation of atmosphere can be said for most tracks on the album but each creation is very individual, the haunting sound of Subtle Strains is another great example, this ability is a product of having six band members and a huge range of instruments and vocal styles to call on. One of their new compositions not on the album is Pillow Quest again creating an original more modern, driven style and direction for the band.

In short Jonquil are advancing at an extraordinary rate and are dragging ‘modern folk’ along with them, the advancements and changes they are making seems natural and subtle and don’t at any point make their songs or music inaccessible in any way. Anyone could put Lions on tomorrow and get something from it, they have such a great variety of sounds and feelings that it would be impossible not to.

Jonquil are currently “working hard to create the best album imaginable’ and are playing upcoming dates in London, Birmingham and Leeds.

IOHO recommends the tracks:

Lions, Pillow Quest and Subtle Strains

Jonquil – Lions

IOHO would love to use content that does not have embedded advertising, if you know of a link for this or other Jonquil tracks we can post then please contact us.

Websites:

http://www.myspace.com/jonquiluk

El afamado artesano Colin Goldie ha dado por finalizado su trabajo para Oberton whistles y comienza su carrera en solitario con el nombre de whistles Colin Goldie. Este artesano de reconocido prestigio ha sido considerado por muchos como uno de los mejores en la fabricación de dicho instrumento. Para la promoción de la nueva marca ha realizado una pagina web en la que podeis encontrar, ademas de toda la informacion sobre los whistles, opiniones y reseñas de artistas que utilizan sus flautas.

Para mas información www.colingoldie.de

Is it the end of the season for soccer, football or another school or club sport?

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Oct 24, 2009 10:03:03

From the day we are born, music is in our lives. From the first lullaby we hear to the music in numerous mobiles, Fisher Price toys to children’s TV shows and songs we learn to sing in school, music is in our lives.

Whether or not we ever learn to sing or play an instrument, music is a part of us. It intertwines with our soul more and more with each passing year. Dick Clark said “Music is the soundtrack to life” and this couldn’t be more true. Certain songs can trigger a memory – you know exactly where you were on what date, at what time by just hearing the first few notes.

When you think about the power of music, it’s quite an overwhelming thing. It can trigger emotions, songs can make you cry, songs can make you laugh, songs can make you want to celebrate and party just as much as they can make you reflective or nostalgic – and they don’t even necessarily have to be songs with lyrics. An orchestral piece can be so majestic, it can make you feel something. Or a single instrument like a soulful violin, a moody saxophone, a jazzy piano, a rhythmic drum or a strumming guitar can transport you to certain places and times, like nothing else.

I don’t know if you’ve ever done this, but when walking through a store that has keyboards or any other instrument, even if you don’t know how to play, it’s very tempting to play a note or two. Music draws us in, no matter how or where… you can hear music faint in the background somewhere…someone’s radio or TV and automatically tune into what you’re hearing.

Music is something we enjoy while we’re working out or while we’re doing domestic chores and especially while we’re driving on the highway, it helps us pass the time. We can hum, whistle and sing tap an object or clank a glass and make our own music no matter where we are or what we are doing.
Have you ever felt tired or lacked motivation and suddenly felt a second wind of energy because of hearing music? If we understand its affect on us, we can appreciate it more when we hear it.

Music is also healing and therapeutic. It can help us relax, feel comfort, mediate and also motivate us to get well, helping us through physical therapy to recover from injury. How many times have you been in a horrible mood, but it’s been changed because of music?

The best music is the music which makes us feel connected and alive. It can change how we feel about life and ourselves in a positive way. It can connect us with others (all generations) who appreciate the same genres of music or certain artists… and it is the language that translates every culture.
Have you ever stopped to take in an Olympic ceremony? From the proud anthems of all countries, to the opening and closing ceremonies, music is there. Have you ever looked at a wedding or a funeral or a parade or recital? Music is there.
We sometimes underestimate the power of music and take for granted how many different ways music is in our lives and how it can change one.

Perhaps we need to literally take note of how music can and will be something that documents history, creates a mystery, benchmarks a moment and moves us toward our own groove in life and through it.
In the words of artist Shannon, “Let the Music Play…”

© 2009 Queena Verbosity 100% Real Words
Media Monster Communications, Inc.
Stacey Kumagai
www.100percentrealwords.blogspot.com
http://hubpages.com/profile/mediamonster
http://www.braingasm.com

This was some sort of performance that was being put on for children. I was there as they were setting up and this clown came over blowing his whistle and I snapped this shot.

 Today marks seven years since my Dad passed away. And I miss him.

He used to have this funny whistle, which Mum is still known for today, that he would use on our infrequent visits to “town”. Dunedin was the destination every time we needed to do a big shop but Dad wasn’t interested in following Ruthie and four girls around the cash registers. We’d be walking down the street and hear that whistle and stop and look for him. There he would be, leaning against the old Holden Kingswood or a doorway, smoke in hand.

My kids have become attuned to the whistle too now – I can walk into a room unseen and give a little whistle and both kids will look up, looking for me. It’s seriously cute.

He also smiles at me in my office every day – one of my favourite photos from his 60th at Edievale, cigar in hand.  Our photo gallery in the hall sees him on the motorbike looking down at The Glen – one with green grass and one with snow. There’s one of him with a stock agent in a paddock that was used in a Wrighties calendar and a very stern one with the whole family in costume during a trip to Shantytown or something similar.

Rest in peace Pop. You’re not forgotten.

ORANGE SMALL PLASTIC WHISTLE Review

Feature

• orange
• csi model# 13117
• Each
• Loud, shrillest penetrating power

Overview
Loud, shrillest penetrating power. Hi-impact plastic body, cork ball, with metal lanyard ring.

Oct 01, 2009 02:00:04

I totally got lost on the way home from work today.  I’ve worked in that city for 5 years now.  I’ve driven my current commute for 2 years.  I am, albeit ditzy, very smart.  I’m not bragging.  Okay, I’m bragging a little bit.  Anyway, I could go on about that all day, and that’s not why I’m posting today.  I decided to try and take a new way home from the office today.  There are two major interstates that can carry me to and from home and work. I usually just take route A because

-I can avoid other drivers

-I can avoid other drivers

-I can stick my tongue out at the douche canoe of a cop that is only qualified to direct the elementary school traffic

-I can avoid other drivers

Seriously, that cop is ridiculous.  If he didn’t do his arm flailing moves like a meth addicted cheerleader, I wouldn’t have to stick my tongue out at him.  He sooooo started it by making me stop for a car that wasn’t even close to the intersection.  It’s like he makes me stop on purpose.  I know being in my presence is awesome, but I do have to make it to work. He’s all extra pointy with his hands and his stupid douchey whistle.  Whatever copper.  I’ll see you in the morning.  I PAID FOR THAT WHISTLE.

Anyway, I decided to take interstate B home because my hubby B swears by it.  I thought, hey there a shortcut to that interstate by the office.  I’ll hop on there and head home.  If the road is clear at this later-than-I-normally-leave time, I may start a new routine.

Well, I don’t know if it’s a shorter commute or not. Apparently, my shortcut to the entrance ramp is for the southbound lanes.  I live north of the city.  I didn’t even realize I was going south.  I was busy jammin’ and singing along to my tweenage music.  When I did realize I was heading in the wrong direction, I had to exit in the downtown area.  The farking light took forever.  That is not a safe place either.  Just stare straight ahead and don’t make eye contact. Pretend you are invisible.

When I finally got home this is the conversation I had with B:

B: I was starting to worry.

Me: Well, you should have.  I was lost and ended up almost getting raped and killed in downtown.

B:  What where you doing downtown?

Me: Noothiiiing.  I went the wrong way on the interstate and ended up downtown instead of home.

B:  How did you go the wrong way?

Me: I thought I got on the northbound lanes of Interstate B.  This is all your fault you know.  You aaaaaalllllwaaaays tell me that is quicker than interstate A.  So, I tried to take it.  Just so you know, it may be quicker for you but it is not quicker for me.

B: How is that my fault?  How long have you worked there?

Me: Don’t try to turn this around on me. OOOOOO homemade pizza for dinner mmmmmmmmmmmmm

I like routine.

this is kind of like my pizza except my doesn't have a face and won't give you nightmares and heartburn

Finally, it’s here (unless, like me you live in the UK in which case you are expected to wait until NOVEMBER 16TH!!!!  I will be buying the import collector’s version on Amazon, which drops on Tuesday.) – Mariah Carey’s new album, Memoirs Of An Imperfect Angel.  Preceded by the lead single “Obsessed”, which has done very well but not shot to number one (leading certain people to brand it a ‘flop’ all the same), several questions were being asked of this CD: “Is Mariah’s voice really shot?” (No.) “Is it better than Whitney’s album?” (Yes.) “Does the fact that The-Dream and Tricky Stewart produced the whole album make it a bit monotonous?” (No… not really.  A couple of the songs are somewhat repetitive and reminiscent of other The-Dream tracks, but Mariah’s input and The-Dream’s variety are pleasantly surprising.) “Why did Mariah push her CD back? Was she running scared?” (No; she was making a cohesive R&B album and taking the time to make it perfect.)  Listening to the finished product makes this clear – where The Emancipation of Mimi (Mariah’s “comeback” “classic” album, which is possibly her least cohesive effort and contains some fantastic tracks surrounded by the most filler in any of her albums this decade) and E=MC² were literally a collection of songs, Memoirs Of An Imperfect Angel takes you on a unified journey the way that Mariah’s best 90s efforts, the seminal Butterfly and Rainbow, and yes, even 2002’s Charmbracelet did.

Mariah’s vocals are stronger now than they were on Charmbracelet, though she often employs her whisper voice in place of full belting.  As it did on Butterfly, this gives the songs an intimate feel which brings out the intricate emotions inherent in her lyrics.  Standout “H.A.T.E.U.”, which means “Having A Typical Emotional Upset”, at first sounds like an angry-woman-scorned missive thematically similar to other songs on the album, but it is emotionally vulnerable as Mariah finds herself in a place where she misses her lover, but doesn’t know what to do with herself other than “change her number” and “move away” in an attempt to get over him and begin to move on.  The emotional limbo echoes in the production, which employs a hard-hitting slow beat and a baby’s cries along with Mariah’s whistle register.  Her high-pitched wails are a massive feature of this album, and are present on many of the songs – according to various tweets, Mariah wanted to explore using her upper range as a texture in homage to Minnie Riperton.  Just as on Rainbow’s “Bliss”, on tracks such as “H.A.T.E.U.”, “Ribbon” and “Angel (Prelude)”, Mariah’s stratospheric notes come across less as an opportunity to showboat than as a genuine part of the song’s instrumentation and setting the mood.  At the album’s climax, a tasteful cover of Foreigner’s “I Want To Know What Love Is”, Mariah lets loose with gospel melisma and ecstatic squeaking to emphasise her joy and rapture in finally finding true love and encountering happiness after the ups and downs and broken relationships explored throughout the course of the album.  The only criticism of this song is that it ends far too quickly, robbing the listener of the climax – as soon as the vocal and musical apex is reached, the track is fading out!!! Here’s hoping that a longer edit of the song will surface.  But the point is that Mariah Carey is using all the ranges of her impressive voice for legitimate reasons – to serve the song and its mood, musical instrumentation, lyrical punctuation and emotional expression.  If there is any proof required that Mariah has grown as a singer, this album is it – even if she doesn’t belt as happily as she used to, her voice serves the songs more.

Having said that, Mariah also embraces radio trends on some of the more uptempo numbers.  Lead single “Obsessed” is one of a few tracks to use auto-tune.  Another question: “Why does someone with Mariah Carey’s voice need to use auto-tune?”  This is a somewhat valid question, but I think that Mariah is just trying to stay current and have fun.  Although some of the album’s slower material is more weighty and emotionally deep, songs like “Obsessed”, “Up Out My Face” and “More Than Just Friends” (which contains some fantastic lyrics such as “Secretly I know you wanna hit it like the lotto / And after that we can ketchup like tomato / We can make love in Italy in the grotto / Fresh off the jet at the Met they screamin’ bravo”) are designed to keep the BPMs up, keep things light and moving briskly, and create songs which have sharper lyrics and fun, bouncy melodies.  The marching band “reprise” of “Up Out My Face” is a fantastic, creative interlude that really knocks, and would have been great as an extended song – it harks back to one of Mariah’s performances of “Shake It Off” (perhaps the Thanksgiving Parade performance? I don’t remember… if anyone knows, feel free to comment!).  ”Standing O” is another hard-hitting uptempo track that gathers its intensity as Mariah applauds an ex-lover for breaking her heart – “All you did was pound on it”.  The beats accumulate towards the end of the song, as Mariah’s voice gets more insistent and an almost operatic soprano punctuates her despair.  Although it had to grow on me somewhat, I am really enjoying the track.

There are a couple of tracks where I differ from what I understand to be the general consensus, according to other forum and blog comments, as well as video reviews of the album I’ve seen on Youtube.  ”Ribbon” has been garnering comments such as being ‘overproduced’ with its distorted hooks forming part of the music, and more of a crunk beat than other tracks, really hitting hard.  From what I understand, people are saying the track is a bit overcooked and Mariah gets lost in it – I disagree! I love the song, its music is dark and percussive, but Mariah’s syrupy vocals and lyrics “Wrapped up, wrapped up, ribbon with a bow on it” sit on top of all that like the icing on a cake.  It’s actually one of my favourite tracks on the album, and although it is a typical The-Dream track that could have easily fit on his Love vs. Money album, I don’t think that it suffers for that – there’s not another track like it on the album, so it stands out.

Whereas my only weak track, which other people seem to love, is “It’s A Wrap”.  Mariah pours wine at the beginning of the track, so I guess we are supposed to relax into it, but the doo-wop beat and sparse piano forces the song to melt away and become unmemorable.  The lyrics are somewhat lackluster compared to the zingers on other songs such as “Up Out My Face” (“If we were two Lego blocks, even the Harvard University Graduating Class of 2010 couldn’t put us back together again” !!!!!!) and “More Than Just Friends”, or to the emotional heft of ballads such as “H.A.T.E.U.”, “The Impossible” and “Angels Cry”.  The only line that “It’s A Wrap” has going for it, IMO, is “It’s going down like a denominator” – and you have to wait for the end of the song to get to that bit.  Just a bit lackluster for me – but other people love it, so you may love it too and we’ll agree to disagree.

Earlier I compared Memoirs Of An Imperfect Angel to classic Mariah albums Butterfly and Rainbow.  This becomes apparent during the album’s closing stretch – though on “Candy Bling” and “Inseparable” Mariah offers a relaxed yet absorbing throwback vibe (to former Mariah tracks “Yours” and “We Belong Together”, respectively), and on opening ‘prologue’ “Betcha Gon’ Know” Mariah masterfully weaves an absorbing tale of heartbreak and infidelity just as she wrote spellbinding descriptive lyrics on classic “The Roof” – it’s not until “The Impossible” that we really seem to penetrate into Mariah’s heart.  The sexy R&B feel gives nods to Jodeci and provides a classic texture that once more exemplifies just how much is missing from 2009-typical R&B. Hopefully this is a sign that older R&B values are coming back around – although Mariah popularised the trend of female singers working with rappers, Memoirs does not boast a single collaboration and is all the better for it.  ”Angels Cry” is a heartfelt ode to love lost that sounds like classic Mariah, and of course there is the closer “I Want To Know What Love Is”.  These last two tracks really ratchet up the emotional impact of Mariah’s album, where other tracks are lighter and more fun, or restrained slower material – and make sure that it goes out on a high.

Okay, so I am a big Mariah Carey fan, and I am bound to say that I love the album.  For me, it’s a real album that flows (hence the various reprises and little flourishes that help the songs segue together sonically as well as thematically) rather than just a collection of songs.  The lyrics and vocals work together to compliment each song’s mood, content and impact.  And apart from “It’s A Wrap”, I really enjoy every track on the album.  So for me, taking the songs individually, they are winners, but the album as a whole is elevated beyond the sum of its parts to something quite special.  In my opinion, this is why it stands head and shoulders above Whitney Houston’s I Look To You (certainly not an album which has a cohesive feel, and I only like half of the songs anyway) as well as nearly every other album I’ve heard released in 2009.  This is where Mariah Carey is not only a gifted singer and vocalist, but an artist who keeps working at and developing her craft as a writer, producer and someone who envisions how her project should sound from start to finish.  Check the credits: Mariah Carey is Executive Producer, Album Producer, and a producer and writer on every single song (apart from the cover version).  As a singer, a songwriter and an artist, she is what I aspire to be, and Memoirs Of An Imperfect Angel is, like Butterfly and Rainbow, an example of her at her very best.

A virtual dog whistle for your Symbian Touch device. It contains 7 different sounds, ranging from 17 mhz to 22 khz, like the normal whistles.

Requirements:
~ Flash Lite v3.1

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