You're Doing It Wrong

Naming that Tune
I was going to put a picture up here this morning so you’d have something to look at and not be bothered by all these words. But instead I was seized with trying to find the title and artist of this song I heard on the radio last night when I was driving home from work.

I have a little tape recorder in the car, but it was buried in the bottom of my bag covered with magazines, yoga clothes and empty plastic lunch containers. I keep it in case I have a brilliant thought so I can preserve it for later or I can make lists of reminders of things I need to do. It might be a better idea to keep the recorder in a more handy place, but that’s not the point here.

When I hear a song I like on the radio, I have two strategies for tracking it down. The first is to remember some lyrics and plug those with the word, lyrics, into a search engine. Then I spend the rest of the drive home with the radio off repeating over and over, “dust in the wind … all we are is dust in the wind …” and I enter the house and shout, “Don’t talk to me, I have to remember this song” and I sprint to the computer and boot it up, standing there, tapping my foot, “dust in the wind … all we are is dust in the wind …”.

This has been about 50% successful. But (a) lyric sites are generally ugly, ad laden and sploggy, and (b) if you only remember a snippet, in my case, something about atmosphere you get about 10,000 results plus in my case, atmosphere is also the name of a band but not the band I’m looking for.

My other strategy is to go to the iTunes store and pull up the 100 most popular songs in my suspected genre, in this case I thought it would be alternative, and I scroll through and listen to samples of songs that could be it. The drawbacks to this are (a) it takes forever (b) the song might not be in the top 100 and (c) who knows for sure what the genre is?

Yesterday I read about a new method to search a song called: Songtapper. But this morning I didn’t remember that it was called Songtapper so I had to go back and check my regularly read blogs to see if I could find the post and that didn’t work. So then I tried a search engine and again, trying to narrow your results using words like song search keyboard tap. I eventually found the site.

The way it works is you tap the rhythm of the song on your keyboard and it returns a list of songs. The post I saw said it worked. So, having struck out with the lyrics and getting tired of clicking on samples at the iTunes store, I tried Songtapper. I tapped my song and then waited.

This whole chain of events took place this morning and I left for work approximately 65 minutes after I got out of bed, I packed a lot into a short morning. You can understand why there was no time for a picture. Finally it returns my songlist and WTF? I got “Bad to the Bone,” a Green Day song and a John Philip Sousa thing.

How does that even happen? Am I being punk’d? Am I a bad tapper? What do these songs even have in common? None of these is even remotely like my song. The site advised that if it didn’t return my song I could enter in the name so it would learn it for next time. If, only.

Maybe one of my three readers can help me. If you were tapping it out on your keyboard it goes: tuh-tuh tuh-Tuh-tuh-tuh tuh-tuh tuh-tuh tuh-Tuh-tuh-tuh and it’s something about the atmosphere, maybe you’re floating through my atmosphere and it sounds maybe like The Shins. Maybe it is The Shins. Next time I have my iTune store open I’ll check.

There’s a story now in The Economist that starts off:

THE brave seamen whose great voyages of exploration opened up the world are iconic figures in European history. Columbus found the New World in 1492; Dias discovered the Cape of Good Hope in 1488; and Magellan set off to circumnavigate the world in 1519. < ... >

It seems more likely that the world and all its continents were discovered by a Chinese admiral named Zheng He, whose fleets roamed the oceans between 1405 and 1435.

The authenticity of the map is being questioned and I’m not following the story that closely, I’m posting here because why does the world continue with this idea that America was “discovered.” Sure, someone can have credit for being first for sailing around the world or crossing the ocean or sharing his germs with unsuspecting indigenous populations.

But there were already people here. How can you discover a place that already has people?

Spice Girl
This is an informal poll to find what is your most used spice? Not like salt or pepper (are those considered spices or condiments?) because those can go with almost anything. Also sugar. But other spices.

Right now my most used spice is cinnamon. I had a bucket of great designer super cinnamon from Penzey’s and I only have about 1 teaspoon left. I made 2 batchs of persimmon cookies over the weekend and that just about cleaned me out. I bought some Penzey’s baking spice which is cinnamon and other stuff like cardamom, nutmeg and cloves. But I don’t like it. When you expect cinnamon taste and get baking spice, it’s a little disappointing.

My other most used spice is chili powder. I have (had) a range of types and they’re all gone except for a few scoops of a chicken taco blend and a tablespoon of regular chili powder. And tons of cayenne if that counts.

I used to use tons of basil and oregano but not so much lately and I bought several bales worth from Penzey’s. It’s stashed in bags in the spice cupboard, probably losing flavor as we speak.

Like Twins
The Parent Trap, both versions 1961 and 1998 were on TV this weekend. This post is totally going to date me but what girl, who was alive back then (1961), didn’t *LOVE* The Parent Trap?

Now that I think of it, I wasn’t alive in 1961. But I know I read the book to tatters and I’m sure it must have been on repeats because I remember loving this story. The wonderful Dad, Uncle Bill (wow, check out that bio. What a tragic life.) from Family Affair and dreamy Mom, Maureen O’Hara. And trying to figure out “how did they do that?” with only one actress.

When I was first writing this post in my head, I had Parent Trap actress Hayley Mills mixed up with an actress from one of my favorite TV shows back in the day, Juliet Mills. Juliet was Phoebe Figalilly in Nanny and the Professor. Did you know that Kim Richards (Prudence) is Paris Hilton’s aunt?

Juliet has been married to dreamy Maxwell Caulfield (Miles Colby from Dynasty and the Colbys) for over 20 years.

Where was I going with this? It wasn’t intended to be a ye olden tymes TV trivia quiz.

Oh yeah, The Parent Trap. Somehow I managed to tune into both movies at the point where the twins are stuck in the same cabin together in the rain and I stuck with both versions long enough to see both girls pull of round 1 of the switch which is the best part.

The 1998 version made some updates like changing the girls’ names from Sharon/Susan to Hallie/Annie and the California ranch is now a Napa Valley vineyard and Boston is now London but some of the scenes (in the few parts I watched) were almost identical.

My favorite line in the 1998 version is when the two completely identical girls with identical birthdays and 1 with only a Mom and 1 with only a Dad finally figure it out and they look at each other and one says, “We’re like, twins.”

Plumbing Woes
My bathroom sink was all backed up again and in the process of trying to fix it, I broke the pipe under the sink. In my defense, I think the original installation was Mickey Mouse to begin with. It wasn’t even like a real pipe but more like a plastic slinky thing and it was all brittle and probably needed to be replaced anyway.

I decided that it can’t be that hard and I would do the homework to fix it myself. Who wants to spend all that money on a simple home repair? I found an online tutorial. First, I read the one about how to clear a drain and it said not to beat up on the pipe too much or you’ll break it and cause yourself a bigger problem.

Well, that would have been a helpful reminder an hour ago.

During the “working with plastic pipe” tutorial I learned there are three kinds of pipes PVC, CPVC and flexible PB and they come in difference sizes like 3/4″ 3/8″ and 1/2″ and that I should cut them with either a tubing cutter, hacksaw and miter or power miter or some other thing I didn’t write down the name of and apparently you need to make a good cut to make it work right (I was planning on using an old kitchen knife so I wouldn’t have to buy any tools).

Then I need an emery sheet and primer and cement and make sure I get the right kind for my application. I’m sure they aren’t sold under the kind, “for fixing broken pipe under bathroom sink.” I figured by the time I drive to the plumbing supply store, figure out what the hell to buy, probably be humiliated by some know-it-all plumbing store staffer who insists on knowing exactly how I broke the pipe because to be honest, I was pretty much beating up on it, get back home, try to actually fix it, tear my hair out, start drinking at 3pm rendering the rest of the day and evening a total wash: it might just be worth it to pay someone to come in here and do it for us. So that’s the plan.

Bird-Day Afternoon
Be sure to click on the photo to see a large version.

Bob and I went for a walk today during a fortunate non-rainy patch. Bob had the idea of going down to Frenchman’s Bar. From the path you could hear the geese making a huge racket and we could see groups of them all over the sky, making their formations.

As we were on our way back to the car the racket went up a few notches and we looked over and this ginormous cloud of birds raised up into the sky. It’s impossible to convey with words and this little picture. If it was a horror movie, this was the part where the blood-lusting [insert terrifying human destroying monster here] gears up for its major assault on mankind. OR, it was an amazing display of nature. The birds had no goal (that I could tell). It was one part chaos but there was some order in there, too.

They’d fly in one direction and then double back and the followers would turn around, too. Amazing to watch. On the ground: cows. They looked dirty and sad, or if you got a close up: stupid.

There is nothing that cures undereye bags. It’s like short legs or brown eyes. It’s part of your architecture.

Yeah, sure. Too much partying contributes. I’ve read all the beauty tips and proper hydration is important, plenty of rest, physical activity, proper diet, no tobacco, caffeine, alcohol or refined foods. (If you read magazines or newspapers, that list accompanies the solution for solving virtually any problem except debt.)

But for sure, products don’t work. Like diet books/pills/suits (yes, I bought a weightloss suit once — it looks like a sweatsuit made out of hefty bags and for reference, this was 20 years ago) and writing books/classes/teachers filled with surefire publishing tips, I have been duped dozens of times by products promising to firm, tone, tighten, brighten and reduce puffiness under my eyes.

They do nothing. I’ve also used cold spoons, cold compresses, cold slices of cucumber, cold teabags and ice rubbed directly on the puffy area. Cold is apparently critical. You’re better off just getting on with your day. The puffiness will reduce on its own. Or not.

But if you’ve tried something that works, let me know.

I have a what’s developed into a fairly long list of things to write about yet I always seem to think I’ll get to it later. Some of it is no longer topical, but who’s going to stop me?

When I was a girl, the Rose Bowl was on New Years Day, the same day as the Rose Parade. I thought the two events were linked. Some background info: there are no football fans in my house. I don’t look at the sports page or sports websites so unless it’s soccer or dare I admit it, figure skating, I have no idea what’s going on in the sports world.

I heard people around the office talking about the Rose Bowl game taking place not on the 1st and not during the day but on a random Wednesday night. WHY? Was it still in Pasadena?

Do they still have zillions of bowl games? They must, it’s got to be making money for someone. That used to be a big joke: The Orange Bowl, The Apple Bowl, The Toilet Bowl. Since I don’t watch the sport, I don’t know why I care, just things like that shouldn’t be changed without a press release or new bulletin.

Also I heard on the radio that there is no more Monday Night Football. How can that be? I remember the years that Monday night TV was ruined because Dad had to watch football. Hey kids: when I was a girl we didn’t have a TV in every room so if Dad wanted to watch football, hard cheese, we watched football.

But then, in those days I knew what was going on with football (sort of) and watched the Superbowl and as I recall, kinda enjoyed it. Now I only like sports where the guys look cute. Football? No. Baseball? Rarely. Basketball? Rarely. Soccer: YES! There are no ugly guys that play soccer with the possible exception of some eastern European countries who’ve got some gaggers (although rarely nothing that a good shave and some dental work couldn’t improve) on their squads. And while we’re on the subject, World Cup is only months away. Mark your calendars!

Yesterday we had a superfun day of bluegrass at the Rivercity Bluegrass Festival at the convention center downtown. I think I’ve explained this before but bluegrass is not something that I listen to at home. But spending a day seeing a bunch of bands live is always a good time.

A few highlights:

We caught Misty River finishing their set and they played one of the best songs I’ve ever heard: Home Grown Tomatoes. I think it’s an original but I’m not sure and I’m too lazy to figure it out for you. The chorus is: There’s two things money can’t buy, true love and home grown tomatoes. There’s a verse that says something like: when I’m gone don’t put me in a box, put me in the ground so I can push up home grown tomatoes.

This song could be the Orleans local anthem.

As I mentioned I enjoy hearing bluegrass live but I don’t have a deep appreciation for all the nuances and flavors. To me it sounds like two songs: the slow and mournful one or fast and plucky one. Generally someone has been done wrong or else there’s a train a comin’ or perhaps something Mama or Papa told them. During one set a woman told how she inadvertently stolen a melody from a fellow songwriter and I turned to Bob and said: How can they tell? All the songs sound the same.

At another point we were at the smaller stage and Bob leaned over and said the song was a Johnny Cash cover. Then he said, “Watch out, the Grateful Dead used to cover this song. You’ll see the Deadheads all nodding along.” I said, “Like the guy in the big pants?”

It took Bob a second to spot him and then he cracked up because there was this blissed out guy with tons of curly hair, nodding his head and wearing these enormous patchwork pants that looked like they were made from xmas tree skirts and fluffy felt and a single leg could be a cosy for the Eifel Tower. We spent the rest of the night looking for “the guy with the big pants.”

The headliner was the Yonder Mountain String Band, a band I’ve never really warmed up to. I thought they sounded a lot more accessible last night and not sure if I was more open minded or they took a different approach for this type of event. They’ll be back for three nights in August and Bob can tell me how it goes.