Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The things I do for grad school apps...

I literally sent this to the Manhattan School of Music as my essay response to the question: "what is one invention the world would be better off without and why?" Am I just nuts, or will they find it amusing?
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I remember in great detail the first time I saw this abomination to the traditionally solid work ethic of humanity; I arrived at my friend’s apartment, a great conductor and upstanding citizen, and eventually had to use the bathroom. After going about my business, I unassumingly walked up to the sink to wash my hands and, lo and behold: the soap dispenser spat foam on my hands. There was no oddly colored liquid with a disturbing texture and questionable scent. Instead, there was a mass of foam. The soap dispenser, as unpretentious as it had initially seemed, had lathered my soap for me and presented it to my palm, expecting me to be pleased that I wouldn’t have to endure the hardship of frothing my own soap.

When I exited the bathroom, I made my displeasure known to my friend in short order. I confronted him, a man of great integrity and awareness, about owning this distasteful product. He responded with laughter, saying that he found it amusing, and that his amusement somehow outweighed the implicit immorality of ownership. He even made the argument that the product is viable because some people have disabilities that may render them unable to lather their own soap. While this may be true, this disgrace would not be mass-marketed and pumped out by mighty corporations like Target or Wal-Mart if it was intended for this unfortunate niche market, nay a savvy soap-making mogul wouldn’t waste his time and money on something so trivial.

Allow me to back up for a minute. In previous years, as I entered adolescence and neared the realm of adulthood, I began to see all of the ways in which the world was losing its sense of values. I noticed how we were beginning to become more and more cut off from our fellow man – namely via cell phones and i-pods – and, as a complement to this development, increasingly lazy. Making a phone call takes effort and concentration – why not send a text? Going grocery shopping is so time-consuming and cumbersome, so lets order groceries online! Need the new Radiohead album? Thank God for the i-tunes store and Amazon.com! This epidemic of push-button convenience and anti-social behavior is doing naught but developing further, and at an exponential rate. I found myself blaming technology for this evolution, but then questioning whether technology was truly the culprit. It seemed to me a case of the chicken and the egg; which comes first may be interesting material to ponder and debate amongst friends, but it is ultimately irrelevant in this instance: the chicken is still laying these eggs of sloth and sociopathic tendencies.

One might wonder what something so harmless as self-foaming soap has to do with this esoteric ranting on social dysfunction, and rightly so. My fervent hatred for this product is largely symbolic. In that moment, as I stood there feeling dirty about washing my hands, I had the realization that no matter what I say or do or think, the direction that this world is headed will never change. We are geared for minimizing our physical activity and physical interactions in the name of productivity: a brave new world, if you will. When I walked up to that sink, I encountered a new level of disdain and hopelessness for humanity at large. The gentle foam that caressed my hands had washed away my hopes of humanity turning this machine around. Self-foaming soap was the ultimate blow in a losing battle. Thanks for playing.


Tuesday, June 16, 2009

funny haha, viola voilá

Jesus was walking down the road one sunny afternoon when, in the distance, he heard a man crying. As he approached the man, he asked him, “Man, why are you crying?”

“Because I cannot see, Jesus. Please, please, rid me of this curse,” said the blind man.

Just then, Jesus breathed upon his hands, gently touched the eyes of the blind man, and said, “open your eyes and see; you are healed!”

“It’s a miracle, praise the Lord! Thank you Jesus,” said the man, as he beheld the beauty of God’s creation with fresh eyes.

Jesus continued down the road, feeling glad that life was so groovy, and his followers so rad. As he strolled along the path humming a joyful tune, he heard what sounded like yet another man crying. This man was lying in the dirt, weeping and feeling terribly sorry for himself and his predicament. Jesus asked him, “Man, why are you lying in the dirt and weeping; do not the reasons to rejoice and be glad abound in God’s Kingdom?”

The man stopped weeping and responded, “Lord, I would feel glad, but I cannot walk and am thus stuck out here, away from my family and my home.”

Jesus descended to one knee and held his hands over the man, whispering something holy under his breath. “Man, stand up and walk; you are healed!”

“My Lord, I can walk—it’s a miracle—thank you, Jesus!” And with that, the man skipped and hopped away, whistling an ebullient ditty as he frolicked.

As Jesus continued down the road, feeling contented with the overwhelmingly positive nature of his day, he heard yet another man crying in the distance. He doubted himself (albeit briefly) at first, but soon realized that he was simply in high demand on this particular afternoon.

He approached the man—who seemed to be the picture of health, but full of sorrow—and said, “man, why are you crying?”

The man choked back tears and muttered, “Because I’m a violist.”

And Jesus sat and wept with him…

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Grate Expectations, Welcome.

First and foremost, welcome to my humble little blog, wherein you will likely come to find ramblings, musings, rantings, ravings, nerdy clarinet shop talk action and other misc. oddities. I hope you find it all to be useful, charming and readable!

Let’s get something straight here: the concept of blogging has always seemed absurd to me, and I’ve avoided the phenomenon like that Vietnamese restaurant off of Argyle that keeps being shut down by the City of Chicago for health code violations. I won’t name names.

In all seriousness, the word ‘blog’ always seemed to embody this sense of self-inflation that, despite my self-confidence, made me sour. But I now see that this is an excellent means of letting out some steam, clearing your chest, posting things for anyone to see—connecting and sharing with people—and seeing where the journey takes you. I hope I haven’t gotten all sentimental in vain. This better be cool.

It’s worth saying a few words about the title, for those of us who aren’t classically trained musicians and/or physics geeks (a physics expert I am not, but it comes with the territory of being a clarinetist that you must have an understanding of the basics of sound & acoustics). In the literal sense, “Odd Partials” refers to the way in which the Overtone Series functions on the clarinet, which is what makes the instrument both incredibly unique and a major pain in the neck (insert time-tested clichĂ© re: double-edged swords right here). To put it simply, the clarinet only contains the odd partials (harmonics) of the overtone series(well, kind of … )—more on that later. I also see the title as analogous with my personality, which should become evident with subsequent posts. I have a penchant for odd quipping and quasi-off-color humor and repartee.

So we’ll just have to see what happens. Please feel free to comment; I love discussion. If I’m wrong, try not to rub it in too hard when you correct me, I’m a sensitive chap that likes intelligent discussion and loathes condescension.

Oh, and I’m a Taurean Oxen, which is interesting to some more than others (I fall into the ‘others’ category, mostly). It does, however, say something about my character.

Cheers!