27 October 2008

My parents are horrible, too. . .

My friend, in an email to her mother, after she got home from her first Wagner opera:
"You are a bad, bad mot
her for not ever introducing me to Wagner. You are a horrible parent!"

Take me out to the. . .gym

I went to the gym after work today. I'm normally not a fan of the gym, but I have to admit, it's highly efficient when one doesn't have a lot of time (or it is dark out, and one doesn't want to go running alone). It's also a fascinating place to do some people-watching, as it is the epitome of the divided attention-span lifestyle that is so common in our (post?)modern society. You know, the one where we can't just do one thing at a time?

And so it was at this gym as well--dozens of people exercising, listening to music, reading and watching sports all at the same time, all tuned into their own little worlds, oblivious to everything else. The only things missing were laptops. (Just wait. It's only a matter of time.)

For 40 minutes, I joined this grand assembly line, where I got a 40-minute workout, listened to jazz, read the Smithsonian, and caught the last 40 minutes of the Phillies vs. Rays game.

I normally don't watch baseball, because most games bore me to tears. You watch guys stand and do nothing for extended lengths, until someone hits a ball.

At first, I kept flipping back and forth between the magazine and the game, but eventually, I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. The Phillies were leading 2-1, and then the Rays tied them, and just as things were getting exciting (and dripping wet), they called off the game. Very odd. In fact, there were so many things I didn't get about this game.
1. Both teams are east coast teams. They were playing till close to 11 p.m. EDT. I'd be groggy about this on a normal weeknight, but it was dumping buckets of rain to boot. They can't play at saner/warmer times?
And speaking of buckets of rain,
2. Why on earth do they make people play in torrential rains? It wasn't just raining; it was pouring. Visibility sucks in rain. In fact, if you wear glasses (though maybe baseball players don't wear glasses?), it's even worse. I don't even like running or biking with glasses in light rain, but in this kind of rain, I don't see how anyone can see a fast ball coming at him.
3. At one point, one of the Rays players got tagged just as he was sliding into home base. It was a very close call. It earned the Rays the critical point to tie the Phillies to keep them in the game, so I got that it was important. The first three times, it was really interesting to watch them replay this in slow motion. But then they proceeded to play this 6 or 7 more times. I got it the first three times around. Do people really need to have this replayed 10 times?
4. They ended up suspending the game. Talk about anti-climactic. Why didn't they just postpone the game in the first place?
What a strange sport.

25 October 2008

On the fence about prop 2

Please don't call me an animal hater, but I'm torn about Prop 2.

It should be a no-brainer, because in theory, I'm all for more humane conditions for animals, and I find factory and large-scale farming utterly appalling. This is why I mostly buy eggs and produce from the farmer's market, where I can grill farmers about their farming practices and make sure they're not injecting extraneous hormones into my eggs. (I have enough of my own damn hormones, thank you very much.)

So I'd like to vote yes on Prop 2, because I support the principles.
It would be so easy to do that and be done with it.

But I am voting no on 8 and 4, because I don't think these issues should be under the purview of the voting citizenry. We already have laws about these issues. Why put the ball back into our court?

And thus is my sentiment with prop 2. Why should regulations about farms and animal rights be left up to common citizens? I'd like to vote yes on this, but I don't know enough about the issue to know what the ramifications are if I do vote yes. All I'd do is vote based on my emotions. How does this serve the state and its citizens, if I can get laws passed solely based on my emotions (multiply me by several million voters)? There are people out there who know far more than I do about the effects of enacting such a law. Why aren't they deciding on this instead of leaving it to Joe Voter?

What next? Letting the average voter who knows nothing about government outlays and revenues vote on whether to abolish the state income tax?

Problem #2—suppose this proposition passes, but Prop. 8 doesn't. This means I live in a state where people don't have regard for basic human rights, but are willing to grant animals the right to graze around, stretch their legs and eat steak. I know they're different sorts of rights, but I think the point still holds. How California looks to the rest of the U.S. is really the last of my concerns, but if I were an out-of-stater and saw that California's citizens passed the chicken rights measure, but denied gays the right to marry, I'd probably be judgmental and think all sorts of things about how weird we are.

Which brings me to
Problem #3—perhaps it's a sign of how well-off we are, that we have nothing better to deliberate on than whether a chicken gets to stretch its legs out for 15 or 45 minutes, but it annoys me that we are even debating about this, when there seem to be so many more dire problems, which granted, are out of CA voter's reach, but I find far more pressing.

How could we possibly be arguing over the rights of chickens to get fresh air, when there are tens of thousands of children in India and Pakistan and other parts of the world, as young as 8, essentially imprisoned and forced to sew soccer balls for 18 hours, for example? Who speaks out for these people's rights to get fresh air?

Or the rights of elderly Chinese women who were sentenced to a year of hard labor, because they followed the rules of their government and applied for a petition to protest?

Or the rights of people whose constitutional rights to due process are waived, and are extraordinarily rendited to some undisclosed location by the CIA, despite the fact that this is a flagrant violation of U.N. conventions?

I realize that not voting yes on Prop 2. doesn't address any of these problems.

I'm annoyed that I've already given this much more time and attention than it deserves.

Do I vote in favor of something because I agree with the provisions in the proposition, or do I shoot it down, because I don't support this method of governance via popular vote and find the topic somewhat frivolous?

Not getting it

JoL: I'm throwing an election party. Do you want to come?
Anzu: Sure. When is it?
(JoL and Sage are in stitches next to me.)
Sage: election party. (To JoL) Don't invite her. She doesn't get it.
. . .
Anzu: I have a class, but depending on the time, maybe I can make it. We should have a post-election party to celebrate McCain's victory.
(Again, they burst into laughter.)
Sage: Uh, I think that's the point of the election party.







21 October 2008

Evocative and hauntingly beautiful!

The question of the day is if you take some entity and call it evocative, alluring and all sorts of flattering adjectives, and then tell tens of millions of people this, keep broadcasting this until people believe it, does the entity eventually become those things it is described as, even if it didn't start out necessarily possessing these qualities? And what if enough people do believe that random entity="evocative", "alluring", etc.?

A non-sequitur quick lazy post--this arrived in my inbox today:
"His music was little known in the U.S. before KDFC began playing it two years ago. Since then, the hauntingly beautiful and evocative works of composer/pianist Ludovico Einaudi have kept him among our best-selling and most requested artists.

Based on that success, Einaudi is embarking on his first U.S tour and will debut here on Thursday, November 20 at a KDFC Nightclub Concert at Bimbo’s 365 Club.

As usual, Club KDFC is the first to get the news. Act now!"

I have other adjectives to describe his music. I'll stick with my edgy Bartok, thanks.


20 October 2008

Vote by mail

I was wondering, does anyone go to the polls to vote anymore?

I don't know if this is a geographic thing or a generational thing, but I've been discovering over the course of the past few weeks, via conversations about the elections with various people, that everyone I seem to know votes by mail-in-ballot. (Well, either that, or some cannot vote at all.)

Granted, my sample size is small and probably skewed (20-30 or so people who mostly range in age from mid-20s to early 40s, all of who live in this area) , so it's really not representative of the entire population, but it's also odd that I have not run into a single person who actually goes to the polls to vote. I mean, isn't this how the rest of the country votes? (Someone out there still goes to the polls to vote the traditional way, right?)

I used to vote this way in NJ, b/c back when I lived there, you didn't really have a choice. One had to have some sort of extenuating circumstances to be eligible for absentee voting, which was annoying, b/c one year it conflicted with my class/work schedule. Since then, it seems that NJ has relaxed its restrictions.

But in CA, you don't have to provide any reasons to be eligible to vote via absentee ballot. You just fill out a form, and unless you reverse your request, a ballot automatically gets mailed to you, come election time, no questions asked. It's actually wonderfully convenient. I've been a vote-by-mailer for several years, and it's nice to be able to fill out my ballot in piecemeal, as I make up my mind about certain things (For example, for this election, props 4 and 8 were filled out right away.), and from the comfort of my own living room.

Curious whether this is an anomaly or representative of a larger trend, I did some poking around on the internet to see what vote-by-mail percentages were like in other states. In California, slightly less than half of us cast ballots by mail for the 2006 election. In Oregon, everyone votes by mail, and in Washington (state), according to this article, 95 percent of the votes for the August primary election were cast by mail.

I've only looked up west coast states, but the interesting thing about this is that it might affect the way candidates campaign. Again, I'm not necessarily claiming that there is a correlation, but compared to the rest of the nation (particularly the east coast and that area by Ohio), both presidential candidates have spent minimal (or no) money on campaign ads here on the left coast.

I suspect it also changes the manner of voting, though I can only offer anecdotal evidence to support this. In my case, for example, casting ballots has typically been a group endeavor. A group of us usually get together, read through the various propositions, and if the wording is convoluted enough and we are feeling sufficiently apathetic (which is the case 70-80 percent of the time, and before you give me a hard time for not taking my voting privileges seriously enough, please note that we have sixteen ballot measures we have to vote on, in addition to all of the candidates, assembly people, council people we must vote on. So nyeh.), we vote based on who endorses or opposes the proposition. We don't always vote the same way, but there is a sort of group-effort mentality to voting.

To wit:
Anzu: These 3 propositions about school spending, what's this about? Do any of them help the schools?
Ch: It says here that the _________ Teacher's Federation supports it.
Ala: Oh, that's the fake teacher's association. You don't want to vote in the same direction they do, b/c it hurts teachers.

Or:
Anzu: 4 freaking propositions about Indian gaming. They all sound the same to me. I'm totally indifferent. How are you voting?
Ala: I don't know enough about this issue, so I'm going to vote in favor of brown people, because I'm brown.
Anzu: Hmm. I'm indifferent, and brown too, I guess, but in order to cancel out your vote, I think I will vote no on all of these.

Ok, I'm being slightly facetious, but for measures I'm indifferent about or can't be bothered to read the fine print for, this sort of voting by consensus happens more often than not.

I don't miss going to the polls much, but it does make voting somewhat anti-climactic, since many of us have long voted by the time the rest of the nation is abuzz with election day hype, particularly in the last few days leading up to the election.

12 October 2008

Die Tote Stadt!

Ok, I need to take a few moments and gush about "Die Tote Stadt" for just a brief moment. I just got back from it, and the music was stunningly beautiful. I knew nothing about this opera, other than the fact that it doesn't come around to these neck of the woods often. I did listen to parts of the soundtrack so I had an idea of the music, but listening at home is never quite the same as experiencing it live.

Traffic was crazy going up (thanks to Fleet Weekend and the HMB Pumpkin Festival going on at the same time), but the parking gods were looking down on me very favorably today, so I found a parking spot within 2 blocks from the War Memorial Opera House and barely made it to the box office within 5 minutes of closing. (Phew.)

Instead of standing room, I got rush tickets, since they were available. I really need to find a way to take more advantage of the musical offerings of the city. I love the fact that I can get orchestra seats for a first-rate opera for just $25.

They put me in the third row, which means the balance wasn't great, but I got to watch Runnicles conduct and watch the orchestra for a change, which was nice, since I never get to see them so up close. They usually sound excellent, but today, they sounded better than I ever remember them sounding.

I enjoyed everything about this opera--the surreal stage sets, the music, the orchestration. . .ok, the plot was a bit too anguished, but everything else made up for it.

Some of the arias were quite gorgeous. The lead tenor who played Paul was really good, though my favorite singer was the baritone who sang Frank/Fritz.

I moved to one of the empty seats in the dress circle after intermission. (I moved partly for balance reasons, but also, there was an elderly couple who were (was?) whispering throughout parts of the music.) Balance was much better from up there(though after having heard "Lucia di Lammermoor" from the high balcony area, I'm convinced that that is where there is the best sound).

I just have one not-so-teeny complaint. I don't mind the coughing so much. I try as hard as possible to suppress coughs, but sometimes, I really need to cough. So a little coughing here and there doesn't bother me. But damnit people. When the orchestra is playing and there is no one singing, it is NOT OK TO TALK. The couple behind me were whispering every time there wasn't any singing, and then when I moved to the dress circle, during the opening of the third act, there were five sets of people whispering while the orchestra was playing. I don't mean just once, which, again, I wouldn't mind so much, but several people were doing this at the same time, and more than just once or twice. Do people think that the orchestra playing doesn't count as part of the performance, just because there is no singing? I thought about very politely asking the couple behind me to please whisper a bit more quietly (or better yet, not at all), but I shouldn't have to ask this of people. Besides, after paying $220 per ticket (that's $440 for both of you), don't you want to hear the lovely bassoon line? Or the beautiful violin solo? Apparently not.

Chihuly

mille fiori

I suppose it's too late to tell you to go catch this exhibit, since it's no longer at the DeYoung. So I'll just tell you that it was a wonderful exhibit. They let us take pictures, which made it even more enjoyable. Half the fun was playing with the lighting and shadows and trying to capture that on film. I went up on Friday of closing weekend, several weekends ago. I almost skipped it, since I was tired, but I was really glad I went. I have many more pictures on Picasa, but here are some of the highlights.

What I found really striking about Chihuly's works were the vivid colors and the shapes that seemed to defy glass's rigidity. These are his Persians. They seem to cascade down effortlessly, with grace and poise.

Persians

Then there were the Tabac baskets. They were modeled after baskets made by native Americans from the northwestern coast.

I was mesmerized by the effects of the lighting and shadows. In fact, although this was the least colorful of his works, this was my favorite section. The subdued colors helped bring out the lovely interplay between the different contrasting elements: the luster of the baskets vs. dull the wooden surface, the translucence of the glass objects vs. the opacity of the wood, and the objects themselves vs. their own reflections.

Here is an image of one of his works from the Macchia Forest series. I loved the deep blue hues juxtaposed with the vibrant yellows in this one. I just wish I had a better photo. . .
Then there were the balloons. This one looked like our solar system.And icicles. . .
actually, chandeliers that looked like they came out of the kingdom of Narnia.
Again, note the interplay between the object and its shadows.

And many many more cool objects.

07 October 2008

Our next president

And in other news, I've stopped worrying about the election, because if, unlike the stock market, the past is any indication of the future, then I just saw proof that Obama will be our next president. See for yourself if you don't believe me. If we don't want to break this 28-year streak, he must win, right? Right?

Relistening to my Lord of the Rings soundtrack

After my ancient Gree—nay, Linear Algebra—exam today, I decided I needed something the equivalent of vegging out in front of a TV and thus dusted off my LoR CD and relistened to it. I haven't listened to it since—gosh, has it really been that long?—2001 or so.

Howard Shore has been getting a quite a beating fairly recently (as has John Williams) in one of the discussion threads of one of my FB groups, so I listened to the CD, mostly to see if he really was as bad as people made him out to be. Granted, after not listening to it for years, it turns out I didn't remember significant chunks of this soundtrack, but I honestly didn't remember it being that bad. Comparable to Williams (in fact, for a while I thought the soundtrack was composed by Williams, so that tells you how much I know), which means innocuous, but not horrible music. If you are expecting Bartok or Mozart-level quality when you listen to these things, then yes, of course the quality is probably pretty bad.

But I don't think this is a fair comparison. In fact, I only own one other movie soundtrack and both are in the "other" (not classical) category. I don't know enough theory to know what constitutes classical music vs. what doesn't (I'd classify all of John Williams as non-classical music, but several musician-types disagreed with me, so I defer to their knowledge; Satie is also considered classical music, but again, his Gymnopedies didn't sound like classical music to me, so I give up.), but movie soundtracks just don't seem to fit into this genre. Thus, comparing movie soundtracks, which were meant to be more background music, to something that is intended to be listened to more attentively, is a bit unfair.

That said, I'm "listening" to the soundtrack as I write this, and I still hesitate to call it "bad", but I was sad to discover that it didn't have the same pull it did almost eight years ago, which got me wondering whether it was the music itself or the associations I've made with this music that once had strong appeal.

You see, this was one of these soundtracks that is inextricably linked with the guy I dated during part of grad school, and my circle of friends during that time. In fact, when I picked up the CD case, the first thing that came to mind was not a particular passage from the soundtrack, but an image of a car flying down some rural road. Both of us were LoR fans (the books, though the movie wasn't bad, either). He owned the soundtrack first and used to play it in his car a lot, so I think I shortly followed suit and got my own copy, perhaps to relive those long drives where we had this playing in the background.

As I relisten to the CD, it's not the music per se that is memorable, but more that certain lines evoke memories of things C and I did together. A certain measure reminded me of a specific road in Pescadero; another line brought back memories of the anticipation we felt while we waited for the first movie to come out; yet another line conjured up an image of a random switchback from a hike we went on, while one of the flute lines brought back a conversation about speeding tickets. So many of these associations came flooding back as I half-listened to the
CD.

There's the night M took us to see the second movie in his then-new car. The night we "celebrated" M's breakup with his girlfriend. The week we spent trying to strategize which movie theatre we should see this in. The I-don't-want-to-go-see-this-movie-with-someone-who-doesn't-know-who-Gandalf-is conversation I had with J. I could go on, but why bore you all?

Perhaps it's telling that I haven't listened to this
CD in years; I have also lost touch with C. It's not that I'm actively avoiding him (certainly not after all of these years), but I just haven't really gone out of my way to try to track him down once I realized early on during our post-breakup friendship we superficially tried to maintain, that I wasn't going to get the "closure" I wanted, and subsequently went our separate ways. Of course I've Google-stalked him once to see what he was doing, and Facebook-stalked him to see if he's on FB (he is) but that was about it.

Now the CD has finished playing, and other than conceding that yes, there were some really bad sections, I can't really tell you what I thought of the entire soundtrack, because to be honest, I don't remember what I just listened to. Once my mind started re-conjuring up all of these past associations, I think I tuned out the actual music and these memories from that chapter of my life kindof hijacked my brain.

Then again, I think this was probably how I used to this soundtrack back then, too. Gosh. It's strange that I just listened to a CD and I can't tell you anything about it, other than give you a list of memories it brought back. (And having my brain fried from my latest marathon of studying and sleep deprivation certainly doesn't help matters.)