Humorous Stuff

Now this one's a classic

BY DAVE BARRY

Week 3, and Dave's still not returning our calls. Even when we leave messages as Booger T. Jones from the Institute of Nasal Technology. This would almost *always* work. So for now, here's another classic Dave Barry column, originally published on March 6, 1994.)

Why don't regular people like classical music? This is the question that was posed to me recently in a letter from Timothy W. Muffitt, the music director of the University of Texas Symphony Orchestra, which has gained international acclaim for its rendition of ''Achy Breaky Heart.''

No, I'm sure it's a fine orchestra that plays a serious program of classical music featuring numerous notes, sharps, flats, clefs, bassoons, deceased audience members, etc.

Anyway, Mr. Muffitt states that he has been asked to conduct a series of concerts for the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra. The goal is ''to get people into the concert hall other than those who usually come.''

He asks: ''What would get the average Joe into the concert hall? Do you go to classical music concerts? Why or why not?''

Mr. Muffitt, those are important questions, and before I answer them, let me state that I really like saying ''Mr. Muffitt.'' I think ''Mr. Muffitt'' would be a great title for a Saturday-morning children's cartoon show, wherein Mr. Muffitt is a super hero who, accompanied by sidekicks representing every major minority group and gender, goes around kicking villain butt. I have not worked out the details of the plot, although it would definitely involve a Magic Tuffet.

But getting back to Mr. Muffitt's questions: Our first task is to define exactly what we mean by ''classical music.'' When I look in volume ''M'' of my son's World Book Encyclopedia, I find, on pages 838-9, the following statement: 'Mosses grow and reproduce in two phases 'sexual' and 'asexual.' ''Not only that, but during the ''sexual'' phase, the moss develops ''special organs,'' and when the time is ripe, ''they burst and release hundreds of sperm cells.''

Do you believe it? MOSS! Growing organs! Having sex! Probably smoking little one-celled cigarettes afterward! Parents, this could be going on in your community. I think we should alert the Rev. Pat Robertson.

But we also need to define ''classical music.'' A little farther on in the World Book, we come to the section on music, which states: ''There are two chief kinds of Western music, classical and popular.'' Thus we see that ''classical music'' is defined, technically, as ''music that is not popular.'' This could be one reason why the ''average Joe'' does not care for it.

I myself am not a big fan. I will go to a classical concert only under very special circumstances, such as that I have been told to make a ransom payment there. But until I got this letter from Mr. Muffitt, I never knew why I felt this way. I've been thinking about it, and I have come up with what I believe are the three main problems with classical music:

1. IT'S CONFUSING. With ''popular'' music, you understand what's happening. For example, in the song, ''Long Tall Sally,'' when Little Richard sings, ''Long Tall Sally, she's built for speed,'' you can be certain that the next line is going to follow logically (''She got everything that Uncle John need''), and then there will be the chorus, or, as it is known technically, 'the 'Ooh baby' part.'' Whereas in classical music, you never know WHAT will happen next. Sometimes the musicians stop completely in the middle of the song, thereby causing the average Joe, who is hoping that the song is over, to start clapping, whereupon the deceased audience members come back to life and give him dirty looks, and he feels like a big dope. It would help if there were an electronic basketball-style clock hanging from the conductor's back, indicating how much time is left in the song. Speaking of which:

2. IT TAKES TOO LONG. The Shangri-Las, performing ''Leader of the Pack,'' take only about four minutes to tell a dramatic and moving story -- including a motorcycle crash. A classical orchestra can take five times that long just to sit down. There needs to be more of an emphasis on speed. There could be Symphony Sprints, wherein two orchestras would compete head-to-head to see who could get through a given piece of music the fastest. There could even be defense, wherein, for example, the trombone players would void their spit valves at the opposing violin section. This would be good, because:

3. IT NEEDS MORE ACTION. When I was in college, I saw the great blues harmonica player James Cotton give a performance of 'Rockin' Robin'' wherein he stuck his harmonica into his mouth, held his arms out sideways like an airplane, and toppled headfirst off of an 8-foot stage into the crowd, where he landed safely on a cushion of college students and completed the song in the prone position.

That same year -- I did not see this personally, but I have friends who did -- the great blues guitarist Buddy Guy gave a club performance wherein, while taking a solo, he went into the men's room (he had a long guitar cord), closed the door, apparently relieved himself, flushed, reopened the door and came back out and never stopped playing.

You do not forget musical experiences such as those.

I'm not saying that classical musicians should do these things. It would be difficult to get, say, a harp into a restroom stall. I'm just saying, Mr. Muffitt, that until the average Joe can expect this level of entertainment from classical music, he is probably going to stay home watching TV, stuck to his sofa like moss on a rock. But with less of a sex life.

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Dave Barry is the man.

On a less humorous note, if you don't use Firefox as your web browser, you should. It's much better than Internet Explorer. The tabbed browsing is great for switching back and forth between sites while keeping your taskbar clear of clutter. I was skeptical at first when told how much better Firefox was, but now that I've started using it, I wouldn't use anything else. For those of you worried about having to rebuild your favorites list, you shouldn't. Firefox will import all your settings (favorites, stored passwords, cookies, etc.) from Internet Explorer.

Enough of that. Dr. C, if you're reading this, we're gonna miss you next week. Have fun in Los Angeles.

Stuff

So I found out today that as of last week's church business meeting I'm already licensed for ministry. The licensing service is more of a presentation type deal. So how about that? I could have married people for a week now and didn't even know it.

Let's see...how about this, three posts in one week. Don't get used to it. I probably won't post again for another month or so.

Well, since my attention is torn between posting here and watching Family Guy, I'm gonna go.

Cya!

Ode to the Nice Guys

Ode to the Nice Guys

This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal.

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.


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I found this on a friend's livejournal and thought I would repost it here. I know what the article is talking about, because I seem to be in the "nice guy" category.

I've been told I need to post...problem is, I don't have much to say...

Choir concert last night went really well. I felt like my left arm was going to fall off at the end of it.

Valentine's Day is coming up...probably won't do anything, as usual.

Let's see...we finally had a regular choir rehearsal today, which was great. It was nice to be singing with the girls again.

I think that's about it. Like I said, I don't have much to say.

Updates

I haven't posted in a few days, because, well, there's not been much to post about.

Had church tonight, along with our monthly church conference. It was decided tonight that I will be licensed for ministry. Go me! This means, as my dad likes to put it, that I can "baptize, marry, and bury."

In choir practice today, Dr. Reynolds sounded just like Mr. Burns from the Simpsons at one point when he cut us off and said "Excellent." It was really kind of funny. I think I'm the only one that caught it, but as we all know from our personality tests we took last year, I am the most unique person in the music department. Go ISFP!

Anyway, that's all. About to go play Splinter Cell: Pandora Tomorrow.

Peace out.

On Dreams and such

So, I had my first dream within a dream last night. It was kind of an interesting experience. Especially since I woke up thinking I had done what I did in the dream.

Dreams are a funny thing. Sometimes they seem real, other times they make no sense whatsoever. It's amazing how a dream can seem to last for hours, yet in reality only lasts for a few seconds.

On another topic, while flipping through this month's issue of Choral Journal, I saw our beloved Dr. Copeland's picture. He's speaking on how "Simplifying the Conductor's Lifestyle: Making Technology Work For You" at this years ACDA Convention in L.A. I think this means he's become the new Blogging Spokesperson, but I'm not sure.

Perhaps he can clarify for us.

Classes went well today. My cold seems to be going away, which is a good thing. My vocal range is getting back to where it used to be, which is another good thing. Yesterday I was having to sing in my head voice on notes that are in the middle of my range.

Oh, about that relationship stuff...I think I've got it all figured out. I'm just destined to be single for the rest of my life. Fun stuff.

Beginning of a new semester

Classes started yesterday. They would have been fine, except apparently my cold medicine decided not to work, so I felt like crap all day. It was good to see all my choir friends again, though it did seem rather small yesterday without all the people that used to be in it.

Today's classes started out ok. I got a 91 on my Theory III exam. I was surprised, I thought I would have gotten lower. But I'm not complaining. The two hour break between classes is crap though.

Yeah...so lately I've been confused about some relationship stuff. I won't go into details, because I'm still trying to sort things out. I'll give you more details as I sort things out.

That's all for now.