Overbooked and Underpaid: Notes from a Yes-aholic

Will We Get a Blizzard?

I was in a local establishment earlier today when the cashier asked me if I thought we would actually get all the snow that is being predicted for our area. (18-22 inches, by the way)

My answer:

"Yes, most definitely. Every inch."

Cashier: "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm out of road salt and my snowblower broke last week.:"

Trust me - we'll get that snow....

Movie Review: the King's Speech

 

This weekend, my hubby and I ventured out to see The King's Speech

I haven't seen a lot of movies at the theater this year. Frankly, there haven't been that many that truly looked worth the time and money. I have netflix (and love it) and so movies definitely fall into either the "renting" or "trot out to the theater" categories.

The King's Speech is most certainly worth trotting out to the theater to see and it is not surprising that, this morning, it was nominated for a boatload of Academy Awards.

The central story of the film is that of King George VI (father of Queen Elizabeth II) and his struggles to overcome the stammer that he has had since early childhood. The world has entered the era of radio and television and, in the words of King Geaorge V (in the film) "It is no longer enough for a King to merely look good in a uniform. He must be able to speak to his public".

But the film is about much more than that. The British Royal Family is one of only a handful of European monarchies that survive to the present day and it is important to note that the period of history between 1910 and 1945 saw the fall of most of the rest. In the film, we see some of the inner workings of the royal family and quite a bit about the crisis of Edward VII's infatuation with Wallis Simpson and his eventual abdication.

I have no doubt that there are some historical inaccuracies in the film - apparently Edward (known to his family as David) and Wallis were known to have ties to Hitler and be Nazi sympathizers, a fact which is largely glossed over - but that didn't bother me. The central story is that of George (known to his family as Albert or "Bertie") with the storylines of other royal characters loosely hung around it.

But the bit I really want to get at is the relationship between "Bertie" and Lionel Logue, the speech therapist. Logue is not only a commoner, he is a quite common commoner and the close relationship between this man and the eventual King of England is practically unheard of. Colin Firth does an incredible job of portraying a man who can be very down to earth but, at the same time, has been groomed for privilege his entire life. And Geoffrey Rush does an equally incredible job portraying a man who - while he understands his place in the British social hierarchy - also understands how vital it is that he not conform to those standards in the treatment of his patient.

As I watched Lionel coach Bertie through his stammer and fear of public speaking, the cajoling, the building up, the tearing down, the mechanics of speech, and getting at the psychological roots of the inability to speak in front of others, I saw my own job.

When the film ended, I turned to my husband and said "You've just seen what I do all day". My main job - despite all the blogging and comic strip stuff - is that of a music teacher and performer. The difference between a good musician and a great musician is often less about the mechanics of playing the instrument than the psychology of the performer. My first job is to ensure that my students have the mechanical dexterity to play the instrument and learn the notes. But then comes the really tricky bit - getting them to the point where they not only understand how to interpret the music for themselves, but to communicate that musical interpretation to an audience without losing their focus or completely falling apart.

It is my favorite part of the job but it is also the hardest and I often don't truly know the impact I'm having. My students go out into the world and I generally don't get to see how they turn out or wether they feel my contributions are an important part of who they come to be.

In this film, it was very nice to see, not only the level of Lionel Logue's success in curing the stammer, but the gratitude of King George for the service and the friendship.

So - I give the film 4 stars and suggest you trot out to see it as soon as possible.

Oh, and one of my favorite bits is when Lionel sits in the coronation thrown and points out that people have carved their names in it. I'm not giving anything away because it's in the above trailer.

Evolving Into Exercise

 

I am a sloth.

My favorite piece of furniture is a chaise lounge. Since I don't have one of those, my favorite piece of furniture is my bed and my favorite accessories are a down comforter and 3 good pillows to lean against.

What I'm trying to say is - exercise is not my first choice when it comes to how I like to spend my time.

Despite that, I have spent quite a bit of my life exercising. My first choice of a career was dance. To that end, I spent over twelve years training intensely in ballet and modern dance only to have the whole thing derailed by a failure to grow to a stature taller than 5 foot 2. Well, that and the arrival of the D cup bust. George Balanchine material I wasn't.

I also did 5 years of gymnastics. Career derailed by injuries and that boob thing again. Plus - I really wasn't all that good.

But I absolutely hated every sport I ever played and every gym class I was ever in. I remember first grade gym class most particularly. Gym for young girls of that time included wearing something called "bloomers". As entertaining as that sounds, it's not nearly so entertaining as it looked. They were basically puffy dark blue shorts and all the girls were required to wear them. The boys got to wear their regular clothes. My feministic streak may very well have begun during this class. 

The other horrible thing about first grade gym was the gym teacher's love of the recording "Chicken Fat". We did exercises to this damn song almost every class.

 

 

 

Is it any wonder I spent most of the rest of my life evading exercise? Especially the boring kind designed only to get you fit?

But after I left dance and had three kids and watched my body slide completely down hill, I finally had to make peace with the idea that I was going to have to start working out on some level. 

To that end, I began walking outdoors three days a week with a walking buddy about 16 years ago. It was the height of Oprah's "Walk Yourself Thin" program. I enjoy these walks because I have a great walking buddy and we get some terrific chatting in. But I have to confess that, any day she doesn't show up, I just go back into my house and do something else, grateful for the extra time in my day. (Which may have something to do with never getting to the "thin" part.)

And I did spend a year working out with a personal trainer in an attempt to rehab a shoulder injury and get some better tone to my body overall. That wasn't too bad because, again, I got to chat with the trainer and take my mind of how boring the actual exercises were.

But now I have found my exercise niche. 

Over a year and a half ago I started walking an indoor track like the one pictured above. (Those of you familiar with my daily bookings know that this is supposed to be part of my weekday routine.)

But I didn't really approach it with any more discipline than any of the other things I tried and I can't say I paid particular attention to how walking the track - or not walking it - impacted the rest of my life.

Then, this fall, I stopped walking the track and in January started up again. After two weeks of putting it back into my routine I noticed something I hadn't noticed before.

I could write again.

Lightbulb.

For me, there is a direct link between a certain kind of exercise and creativity. I say a certain kind of exercise because part of the equation is the time to myself that I get when I'm walking the track vs walking with my walking buddy. 

The meditative quality of walking in circles, the time away from other people, the internet, and all the other things that steal my focus, and the uptempo music I choose to walk to, all contribute to making me more creative. I almost always leave a track session with several ideas for columns.

Since I'm a reward junkie, heightened creativity is just the sort of carrot I need dangling in front of me to make exercising worthwhile.

So I guess I'm evolving myself to a point where I can embrace exercise rather than despising it.

Just don't make me listen to that Chicken Fat song.

The Cat And The Toilet

We have a cat that is, apparently, allergic to water dishes.

No matter how we try, we cannot get him to drink from anything other than the toilet bowl.

He perches on the edge, paddles furiously with his paws to stir up the water, and drinks.

Needless to say, this puts a lot of extra water up onto the seat.

Waiting for the unsuspecting guest who then requests to use my bathroom.

What she must think of me.

My Thing About Shoveling

I am a pain about shoveling snow in my driveway. 

I have this thing where I want it shoveled a certain way and no one else seems to get why.

Here's why.

A) Once you drive on top of snow - or even step on it - it gets compacted and sticks to the pavement. This means that you now cannot scrape it up with your shovel. Not your snowblower either. Which will lead to ruts.

And where I live, ruts are bad. Because within 12-24 hours of every snow fall, we get a follow up temperature drop where everything freezes. And it often doesn't thaw for a couple of weeks.

Especially the ruts.

B) I live on a hill. Once the snow is compacted into frozen ruts, the van won't make the trip up the hill. The neighbors are all familiar with the sight of me getting halfway up the driveway, spinning my wheels in futility, waiting for cross traffic to clear, backing down the driveway and across the street into my opposing neighbor's driveway, and gunning it in an attempt to get all the way up the hill - all the while praying not to be t-boned by a surprise car coming down the street. (We just got new tires that are supposed to be better in snow. God, I hope so - they could hardly be worse than the tires we've had up til now.)

 

C) The top of my driveway has a space to turn around. This is crucial, because I am a short person (5'2") with neck issues who cannot turn my head all the way around when backing up. Plus, even without the neck issues, I'm too short to see backwards down my driveway. The neighbors are also accustomed to the sight of me fishtailing backwards down my driveway as I attempt to determine where it is and where it isn't. Even when there is no snow I cannot properly back down. So being able to turn around (and not make ruts) is also really important to me.

D) Another reason ruts are bad is that I play harp for a living. This means I move my harp myself quite a bit for gigs and must be able to wheel it out to my van without hitting a rut. Hitting a rut makes the harp jump off the dolly.

This is bad.

My gold harp jumped off the dolly this winter and, after a fall of only about 2 inches, broke off one of the back feet. Turns out this foot is pretty crucial. The harp won't stand up without it. It is currently propped in a corner with two walls holding it up while I determine when I can get it repaired. This is why professional harpists all have more than one harp.

E) I am a female person. This means I wear ladies boots and ladies shoes. I have discovered something. Many ladies boots have no tread. That's right - no tread. Tread isn't stylish you see. Apparently falling on your can in pretty, tread-free boots is stylish.

This would possibly explain why all the guy people around me don't understand my obsession with an ice free driveway and sidewalk. They wear sensible shoes with great traction. Their boots are like all weather tires. My boots are like those tires they sell to people in Florida. I think this may be the year to invest in some high tread, ugly boots. I can always change them after I get to the gig.

So what does all this add up to?

It adds up to me needing the entire driveway shoveled down to the pavement, edge to edge.

Which is why, generally, I am the one who gets to do it. 

Which is what typically happens to people who are a pain.

I now understand all those people who move to Florida and Arizona for the winter.

10 Things That Make Me Grouchy

I am having a grouchy morning.

Here are 10 things off the top of my head that make me grouchy.

1) The way, as I try to wash my face at the bathroom sink, the water all runs down my forearm to my elbow, messing up whatever I am wearing. I have attempted to hold my arm at an angle above horizontal. It does not seem to help.

2) The teller at the bank who won't deposit my check from a student because said student mistakenly wrote 1/5/10 instead of 1/5/11. I mean, come on - can't we have a two week grace period where we all get our acts together and wrap our heads around the fact that the year has changed?

3) The way that, no matter what system I try to implement in my household regarding the putting of dishes into the dishwasher, there are always at least 3 dirty dishes in the sink. (Getting dirtier, as people rinse their other dirty dishes over them, BTW)

4) That Border Collie/ Labradors shed by the minute. To keep up, I should be doing nothing other than vacuuming 24/7.

5) The fact that bills never stop coming. Wouldn't it be nice if everyone could choose one month a year to take a vacation from paying bills? Or even one month a decade, for that matter?

6) That no library on the planet stamps due dates on your books any more. Instead, you get a charming receipt (that you lose within 5 minutes of them handing it to you). I am fairly certain that this is one of the most brilliant plots to separate me from $ that has ever been devised. The library knows dam well that we will all lose these little bits of paper and will never again know when anything is due.

7) And, in keeping with number 6, that, while the library pretends to help you keep track of your items, they only send you an email notice about your due date after the book is due. If they really weren't in it for the money, they would send me the reminder 1 week before the book is due. Now there's a concept!

8) And, in keeping with number 7, that, before I brilliantly figured out I should give the library my email address, they only sent me snail mail overdue notices once a book was at least 4 weeks overdue!!!!! (Clearly I have major issues with my library - I may, in fact, eventually have to dedicate an entire post just to my war with librarydom.)

9) That the counselors at our local high school seem to be there primarily to deal with issues like truancy and stemming criminal behavior. How nice it would be if they actually seemed to A) know who my kid is, B) know what he might be considering for a career, C) helping him determine a career if he has no clue, D) figuring out an overall class scheduling strategy that supports his career choice and E) helping him determine what colleges he should be looking at for the next step toward said career. When I was in high school, those things went without saying. I'm pretty peeved that all of the above is now, apparently, my job. Even though I don't have access to the resources and contacts of your average guidance counselor.

10) The one that really has me steamed right now - that, while my property assessment went down by 7% last year, my property taxes went up a whopping 11%. Which, maybe I could stand, if it weren't for 6,7,8 & 9!!!

 

And with that, I must bid you adieu for now. Writing out all of the above has made me even grouchier. I'm going to go shake it off and come back later with my best attempt at levity.