I did it again. I drowned a phone. Third time!
The first time, I had a flip phone and went kayaking with a friend. I put the phone in two "sealed" plastic bags, but the kayak was an inflatable, and there was a lot of water, so drowned phone.
The second time, I put another flip phone through the laundry.
This time, I had my "new" smart phone (I got it, used, from my brother in December 2015, when he and his son were upgrading to the newest, latest phones; the 5s came out in late 2013, so my brother probably got his in 2014) in a lifeproof case. But, since I put the case on three or so years ago (when I first got the phone), it had been failing, and finally failed.
I was teaching a friend the very basics of kayaking, and the phone was in my side pocket, and got wet, and blah blah.
So now I have a new phone, in a new lifeproof case (I figure two years and I should replace it). I got the smallest "new" phone available, an 8, and it looks like it has 4 times the memory as my last one. (Can I say, the salespeople at Verizon were incredibly obnoxious about the phone insurance thing; even after I said I didn't want the insurance, they kept on and on, and then a second person started in. They must get a nice kickback from selling those.)
I lost all the contacts, except somehow there are now old contacts on the new phone, so I guess I must have saved them way back when?
And I lost pictures and stuff. But fortunately, I have a habit (because the phone had smallish memory) of downloading pictures onto my computer fairly regularly, so I didn't loose many.
Last night, I spent a long time doing the settings thing, reloading some of the apps I use regularly.
***
A small rant: why oh why are they making phones bigger and bigger? I want something that fits in my pocket, and fits in one hand easily, and the new phones keep getting bigger and bigger! (I guess most people like them that way?)
***
Non-rant: one cool thing about the blog: I could find exactly when I got the last phone, and when I got my first cell phone. Neat.
Thursday, June 27, 2019
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
Fiddlin'
A week or two ago, Teho, a fiddle duo from Finland came through the Northwoods, hosted by a colleague over in the earth sciences who's, I guess, into fiddle music. Who knew?
They gave a campus concert one evening, then a master class on campus the next afternoon, followed by an evening session at a local coffee shop.
I went to the evening concert, and it was quite good.
The next afternoon, I went to the masterclass. At the concert, they'd said that it was open to anyone who came, and we should bring instruments. So I did. Me, with the fingerboard tapes.
There were only four student players there, including me, one seemed to be a teacher, one an entering college student, and one a high schooler. Let's just say, I was WAY out of my depth.
They taught us two songs in a traditional fiddle way, which is to say, they played slowly for us. First the A part, a couple bars, repeated, and so on, then more bars, and when the A part was down, the same thing for the B part. (For both of these songs, there's an A section of 8 or 16 bars, which gets repeated, and then a B section of the same length, also repeated.)
If you look on the media page, you can hear the two songs we learned simplified versions of: Teksan Maijan roskapuuvalssi & Pettanvalssi, and Kom hem. They're both mostly in first position (I guess that's quite typical of traditional fiddle music). Here are recordings of them playing.
As for out of my depth, well, it's quite embarrassing, especially at first, to sit on stage like a lump with my instrument in hand, just watching, while all the other students catch on. One of the musicians was clearly worried about me, and I felt sorry about that. Once I got over my embarrassment, I was having a good and interesting time trying to figure things out. But I'm just way slower than the others were.
It's sometimes really good for me to be uncomfortable learning something.
If I'd done a very traditional Suzuki method, learning the first books only by ear, I'd probably have an easier time picking things up by ear. But since I already read music, I learned mostly by reading the music. Still, it was very interesting.
My Dad would have enjoyed it. You know how we all have memories we regret? Here's one of mine. I must have been a tween or maybe a little younger. On a hot summer day, my family was driving in the Central Valley of California, and we happened to see signs for a fiddle contest/festival. So we stopped, because my Dad liked fiddle music, and played the violin (and played some fiddle music, too). I remember he was enjoying it, but the rest of us pretty quickly grew bored. The public hall was hotter than the outdoors, even, and I remember being impatient and whiny. I wasn't the only one. And sooner than my Dad would have liked, we left. I wonder now, why I couldn't have been a bit more patient and let my Dad enjoy his music more? I regret that impatience so very much now.
They gave a campus concert one evening, then a master class on campus the next afternoon, followed by an evening session at a local coffee shop.
I went to the evening concert, and it was quite good.
The next afternoon, I went to the masterclass. At the concert, they'd said that it was open to anyone who came, and we should bring instruments. So I did. Me, with the fingerboard tapes.
There were only four student players there, including me, one seemed to be a teacher, one an entering college student, and one a high schooler. Let's just say, I was WAY out of my depth.
They taught us two songs in a traditional fiddle way, which is to say, they played slowly for us. First the A part, a couple bars, repeated, and so on, then more bars, and when the A part was down, the same thing for the B part. (For both of these songs, there's an A section of 8 or 16 bars, which gets repeated, and then a B section of the same length, also repeated.)
If you look on the media page, you can hear the two songs we learned simplified versions of: Teksan Maijan roskapuuvalssi & Pettanvalssi, and Kom hem. They're both mostly in first position (I guess that's quite typical of traditional fiddle music). Here are recordings of them playing.
As for out of my depth, well, it's quite embarrassing, especially at first, to sit on stage like a lump with my instrument in hand, just watching, while all the other students catch on. One of the musicians was clearly worried about me, and I felt sorry about that. Once I got over my embarrassment, I was having a good and interesting time trying to figure things out. But I'm just way slower than the others were.
It's sometimes really good for me to be uncomfortable learning something.
If I'd done a very traditional Suzuki method, learning the first books only by ear, I'd probably have an easier time picking things up by ear. But since I already read music, I learned mostly by reading the music. Still, it was very interesting.
My Dad would have enjoyed it. You know how we all have memories we regret? Here's one of mine. I must have been a tween or maybe a little younger. On a hot summer day, my family was driving in the Central Valley of California, and we happened to see signs for a fiddle contest/festival. So we stopped, because my Dad liked fiddle music, and played the violin (and played some fiddle music, too). I remember he was enjoying it, but the rest of us pretty quickly grew bored. The public hall was hotter than the outdoors, even, and I remember being impatient and whiny. I wasn't the only one. And sooner than my Dad would have liked, we left. I wonder now, why I couldn't have been a bit more patient and let my Dad enjoy his music more? I regret that impatience so very much now.
Monday, June 24, 2019
Week 58/66: Been a While
Things have been busy in my life. I'll post some pictures from my visit to Reykjavik soon. I hope.
In other news: my Mom's retirement community is closing because it can't be made fire-safe and is in a dangerous area for fires. So my Mom had to find a new place to live. Fortunately, the organization that runs her old community also runs others, and since my Mom has something called "life care," that's super important. So she got that news.
And then she got diagnosed with cancer. But for reasons that make total sense, the surgeon says they can't operate, and they've got her on some other drugs. As I understand it, she's likely to die with cancer rather than of cancer, if that makes sense. And she knows this. But it's still really upsetting, and she wishes she could just have an operation. But if a surgeon says an operation would be too dangerous, you know they'd like to operate if they could, so it really would be too dangerous.
At first my Mom said she didn't want me to come out and help. And now she does. And she's upset that my brother doesn't seem as concerned as she thinks he should be. And so on and on.
I need to get plane tickets to go out.
My violin teacher found a way better job, and is leaving the area. For me and the other students here, I'm really sad. For her, I'm happy. She's been a kind and enthusiastic teacher.
It turns out the partner of another colleague over in music can teach violin, and has been willing to take me on, among other students. He seems very good, and pays a lot more attention to detail. I'm adjusting, but still a bit sad.
I've been reading a lot, and now I need to just write. And write. Someone find me some writing mojo, please.
In other news: my Mom's retirement community is closing because it can't be made fire-safe and is in a dangerous area for fires. So my Mom had to find a new place to live. Fortunately, the organization that runs her old community also runs others, and since my Mom has something called "life care," that's super important. So she got that news.
And then she got diagnosed with cancer. But for reasons that make total sense, the surgeon says they can't operate, and they've got her on some other drugs. As I understand it, she's likely to die with cancer rather than of cancer, if that makes sense. And she knows this. But it's still really upsetting, and she wishes she could just have an operation. But if a surgeon says an operation would be too dangerous, you know they'd like to operate if they could, so it really would be too dangerous.
At first my Mom said she didn't want me to come out and help. And now she does. And she's upset that my brother doesn't seem as concerned as she thinks he should be. And so on and on.
I need to get plane tickets to go out.
My violin teacher found a way better job, and is leaving the area. For me and the other students here, I'm really sad. For her, I'm happy. She's been a kind and enthusiastic teacher.
It turns out the partner of another colleague over in music can teach violin, and has been willing to take me on, among other students. He seems very good, and pays a lot more attention to detail. I'm adjusting, but still a bit sad.
I've been reading a lot, and now I need to just write. And write. Someone find me some writing mojo, please.