seeing killers – missed opportunities

So, about 3 months ago, I was offered free tics to go see the Killers. I remember exactly when it was b/c it was the night before we drove down to C-bus for my sister’s commencement ceremony at OSU. I felt guilty about accepting the free tics, b/c I felt that I didn’t work for them or earn them in any way. Does that make sense?

So, anyway, they were in town Friday night, & Mr. T got to hang out with them for afterhours. They were down where Mr. T works after they finished up their show at the Wolstein Center to chill & hang out.

I normally go & hang out w/ Mr. T on Fridays, but this Friday, I was just too exhausted to do so. (I’d only gotten 2 hours of sleep the night before). It’s cool though, I mean what’s meant to be will be, right? I guess it just wasn’t meant for me to see any killers this year.

at a loss

You know how there are some ppl in this world that have a talent so profound, it just stops you? Like, you hear Pavarotti start singing, you can feel yourself gasp?

It’s been a year & 2 months since I posted about his pancreatic cancer. You can read all the posts I’ve written about him all together by clicking here. You don’t have to click to read the posts, but I am very fond of the pics I put up to accompany the posts. I picked out older photos of him that I thought showed a lot of who he was beyond a maestro.

So, there’s not much to say; I’m sure you all have heard by now that he’s passed on. Instead, I’m going to post a bunch of things he’s said over his 71 years.

  • Above all, I am an opera singer. This is how people will remember me.
  • Am I afraid of high notes? Of course I am afraid. What sane man is not?
  • At the age of 4. I jump on the table. I am a little tenor. And I begin to sing, La Donna e Mobile.
  • Children should be given the chance to play instruments, to sing.
  • Every Italian play football. The first gift they give you when you are 3 is a ball.
  • For me, music making is the most joyful activity possible, the most perfect expression of any emotion.
  • For an Italian, being honored in America was a big privilege.
  • I am open to everything.
  • I am proud to be a messenger of peace for the United Nations.
  • I haven’t seen the Elton John, but I have seen Rent on many occasions.
  • I made 12 duets. It was such a pleasure to know these people from the inside, not from the cover of an album.
  • I smoke cigar in the summertime. Probably in three months, 10 cigar.
  • I want to reach as many people as possible with the message of music, of wonderful opera.
  • I would like to raise money for the kids from the world. To do that, the only way, it was to call pop singer. If you call pop singer, you can sell the ticket.
  • If children are not introduced to music at an early age, I believe something fundamental is actually being taken from them.
  • If you see me once, you cannot confuse me with another.
  • If you want to do something really bad to me, you invite at your home, and put one record of mine. And my digestion will be finished before begin.
  • In opera, as with any performing art, to be in great demand and to command high fees you must be good of course, but you must also be famous. The two are different things.
  • Learning music by reading about it is like making love by mail.
  • People have a right to criticize.
  • Sometime to be called Pavarotti is not always an advantage.
  • Why should be elite, music? Excuse me. Music must be for everybody.
  • We just baptized my daughter, and we have 300 people in the church. When we are going to be married, we will be alone.
  • With the piano, at the age of 18, I was already singing for $1, $2 a performance.
  • You don’t need any brains to listen to music.
  • No regrets, no regrets.
  • If music is central to a person’s life, it can be something very special and life-affirming.
  • I am a very superstitious person.[When he performs, Pavarotti wants nails strewn all over the stage, and won’t tolerate the color purple. In former times, priests wore purple, and artists couldn’t perform during the season of Lent. So, purple, to an Italian, to an artist, means no eating, no money, no work, no women.]
  • Olive oil is so incredibly healthy — as a digestive. I love it and I use it despite the fact that it’s the most caloric thing in the world.
  • I am not a boiled potato — I am a fried potato.
  • I have lost twice 85 pounds. Can you imagine? Twice.
  • Despite the fact that I was born under the sign of Libra [balance], I am a person who calculates little and dreams a lot. With the grandissimi advantages and the grandissimi disadvantages. But, the advantages are 90% and the disadvantages, 10%. So it’s worth living as a dreamer.
  • I love Ballo [Un Ballo in Maschera — The Masked Ball, a Verdi opera] for many reasons …. The tenor character Riccaredo is a good man who is deeply in love with his friend’s wife. I sympathize with him, not because I have ever been in love with a friend’s wife, thank God, but because I know how pwerful love can be and how it can make a man do things that he knows are wrong.
  • I know one second before if is not going well. Absolutely. I feel it.
  • Teaching I think is the most difficult thing. Teaching is more difficult than singing. ….. Why? Because you have to transfer a thought from your brain to the brain of the other person and the throat of the other person. [2005 – This was when Pavarotti announced that he was retiring from performing, & was now going to teach for free.] I’m going to teach for free. I don’t want to teach people just because they pay me. I want to teach people who really are good. I received a beautiful welcome to the world of music. I want to give something back to the younger generation.”
  • Mandy’s umbrella

    I like Mandy Moore. I don’t have a girl crush on her like I do on Salma Hayek. But I like her; I think she’s adorable. I don’t really listen to her music; just b/c I’ve never really heard her cds or anything. But isn’t she just the cutest thing? I do like the movies she’s done. She did crack me up in that American Dreamz; & made me cry in A Walk to Remember. I guess others thought it was a corny movie, but I liked it a lot. It struck me. I saw Because I Said So too; but I really like Diane Keaton too. And I can’t wait to see License to Wed.

    Anyway, I heard she’s re-doing that “umbrella” song* by Rhianna. Uuggh. I can’t stand Rhianna. I just don’t like her; something about her. I don’t like any of her songs either. I’m always asking y’all to sign petitions & if there was a petition to get this Rhianna-chick to stop making albums, please send me the link to it. Thanks.

    Yes, this was a no-point post; & I prob wasted your time. But that’s all I’ve got to say right now.

    *Ok, so I don’t like any of Rhianna’s songs, but I do kinda like Mandy Moore’s version of it. Maybe it’s just my bias b/c I like her, & can’t stand Rhianna. Rhianna. Uuggh. Yek.

    Bob Dylan – Hurricane

    Pistols shots ring out in the barroom night
    Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall
    She sees the bartender in a pool of blood
    Cries out “My God they killed them all”
    Here comes the story of the Hurricane
    The man the authorities came to blame
    For something that he never done
    Put him in a prison cell but one time he could-a been
    The champion of the world.

    Three bodies lying there does Patty see
    And another man named Bello moving around mysteriously
    “I didn’t do it” he says and he throws up his hands
    “I was only robbing the register I hope you understand
    I saw them leaving” he says and he stops
    “One of us had better call up the cops”
    And so Patty calls the cops
    And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashing
    In the hot New Jersey night.

    Meanwhile far away in another part of town
    Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are driving around
    Number one contender for the middleweight crown
    Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
    When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
    Just like the time before and the time before that
    In Patterson that’s just the way things go
    If you’re black you might as well not shown up on the street
    ‘Less you wanna draw the heat.

    Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the corps
    Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowling around
    He said “I saw two men running out they looked like middleweights
    They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates”
    And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head
    Cop said “Wait a minute boys this one’s not dead”
    So they took him to the infirmary
    And though this man could hardly see
    They told him that he could identify the guilty men.

    Four in the morning and they haul Rubin in
    Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs
    The wounded man looks up through his one dying eye
    Says “Wha’d you bring him in here for ? He ain’t the guy !”
    Yes here comes the story of the Hurricane
    The man the authorities came to blame
    For something that he never done
    Put in a prison cell but one time he could-a been
    The champion of the world.

    Four months later the ghettos are in flame
    Rubin’s in South America fighting for his name
    While Arthur Dexter Bradley’s still in the robbery game
    And the cops are putting the screws to him looking for somebody to blame
    “Remember that murder that happened in a bar ?”
    “Remember you said you saw the getaway car?”
    “You think you’d like to play ball with the law ?”
    “Think it might-a been that fighter you saw running that night ?”
    “Don’t forget that you are white”.

    Arthur Dexter Bradley said “I’m really not sure”
    Cops said “A boy like you could use a break
    We got you for the motel job and we’re talking to your friend Bello
    Now you don’t wanta have to go back to jail be a nice fellow
    You’ll be doing society a favor
    That sonofabitch is brave and getting braver
    We want to put his ass in stir
    We want to pin this triple murder on him
    He ain’t no Gentleman Jim”.

    Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
    But he never did like to talk about it all that much
    It’s my work he’d say and I do it for pay
    And when it’s over I’d just as soon go on my way
    Up to some paradise
    Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
    And ride a horse along a trail
    But then they took him to the jailhouse
    Where they try to turn a man into a mouse.

    All of Rubin’s cards were marked in advance
    The trial was a pig-circus he never had a chance
    The judge made Rubin’s witnesses drunkards from the slums
    To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
    And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger
    No one doubted that he pulled the trigger
    And though they could not produce the gun
    The DA said he was the one who did the deed
    And the all-white jury agreed.

    Rubin Carter was falsely tried
    The crime was murder ‘one’ guess who testified
    Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
    And the newspapers they all went along for the ride
    How can the life of such a man
    Be in the palm of some fool’s hand ?
    To see him obviously framed
    Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
    Where justice is a game.

    Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
    Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
    While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
    An innocent man in a living hell
    That’s the story of the Hurricane
    But it won’t be over till they clear his name
    And give him back the time he’s done
    Put him in a prison cell but one time he could-a been
    The champion of the world.

    pimp me

    Dear Xzibit,

    It has come to my attention that my mySpace page is not properly customized. Well, I knew it before, but my BFF thinks that I should get on it. So, I’m writing to you. I need some expert help in this; & it’s either you or the Orange County Chopper dudes; you both know the importance of customizationizing stuff. And just b/t you & me, they’re a lil scary. Your gas crew is pretty cool & collected.

    Here’s what my boring MySpace page looks like right now:

    I know, boring, right? I prefer the term “drama-free”. I thought it was kinda special though… probably over 99% of all MySpace pages are customized & personalized & what-not. Right? So, that makes me diff, that mine’s all nothing. Nada.

    Anyway, YES, I do know that you guys all pimp cars, not MySpace pages. BUT, don’t you have a brother/brotha who can maybe help me out? We both know the importance of a good pimp, & I know you knows ppls. I saw all the ppls you were talking to at that party a few weeks ago. The chicks were all OVER you!!! The dudes were all about you too; but I know how you feel about that, not too comfortable-like, so I won’t mention it. Remember when you busted out that rendition of the Stereo MCs ‘Connected’? That was really chill, man. You should’ve seen the look on some of the ppl’s faces when you did that. Priceless.

    Anyway, I want it all customized-able, my MySpace. Ya hear? Whoever you get to do it can basically have all the artistic freedom they want. I’m pretty open to new, creative ideas. My only request is that you put a lil avatar of me on it. Now, here’s the thing… I want her to look like me. I know you can go to & get a lil avatar there for your page, but they don’t really look like me. Here are the two closest ones (on the right).

    And here’s my Yahoo avatar:

    I’m Indian, & there just aren’t that many Indian ones. Oh, & I have curly hair. I straighten it sometimes, but it is curly.

    OH, & a couple things. You see my Yahoo avatar? She’s cute, isn’t she? Well, see, she’s got a lil sidekick dragon. I want my MySpace avatar (that changes clothes according to weather, remember) to have either a lil pink or lilac colored sidekick dragon. If you can have the guy pimping my MySpace to also make her puff lil clouds of smoke, that’d be pretty sa-wheeeeet! I know he’d/she’d be able to do flash stuff, so it’s gotta be totally do-able. Oh, & I want her to dress up & go out dancing on Friday nights. Can you change the music to dance music when she goes out?

    Don’t forget, X, that I love me some gay-ass dance music; I’ve gotta have some ole Madonna & Pet Shop Boys (George Michael, you know how I do). In addition to all the reg dance music that most other ppl like. Oh, & Prince. You know how I love Prince.

    Thanx, X~2~Z, you rock! Just have whoever you find to do my page to leave me a comment, & we’ll get going on it. I know you’ll find someone who can do it up right!

    ghosts passing by

    If a tree falls in the woods, & no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? What if over a thousand ppl are there?

    One of the greatest musicians in the world played for free, & barely anyone noticed. The Washington Post did an experiment, & they had Joshua Bell, one of the greatest violinists of our time to play in a Metro station plaza during rush hour. You’d have to pay at least $100 a seat to see the grammy-winner perform live. He played some of the most beautiful (& challenging) pieces of classical music written.

    The Washington Post wanted to see if their ppl had time for Beauty? If a supremely talented violinist playing a 3.5 million dollar violin was playing in a commonplace setting (in a t-shirt, jeans, & a baseball cap), will ppl take notice & observe beauty?

    How often do ppl stop in wonder of rainbows? It’s a really interesting article, & they video-taped the whole thing! You can read the article here: Pearls Before Breakfast.

    Spoiler alert!!! Only 7 out of almost 1100 ppl actually stopped to listen for at least a minute. When Leonard Slatkin heard of this hypothetically, he propositioned that said violinist (not realizing it would be Joshua Bell) could draw a crowd of about 100, & make about $150. Oh, did I mention that he put some seed money in his case & turned it around; as a street musician. And he made 32 bucks & some change.

    Ghosts: that’s what the Post called these ppl just passing by Bell whilst he played.

    Oh, & you can listen to his complete performance here.

    My life as a 12-year old girl

    Today’s post is actually 2 separate installments of my real-life conversations. One actually happened during the month of January, & the other yesterday. While I consider myself extremely intelligent, sometimes I realize I come off as a 12-year old girl. The following are examples of these circumstances.

    In January, my parents decided to leave us visit India for a month. Yes, they took off for a month-long vacation to India. During this time, I took over their guardian role for my teenage brother. He’s in high school, so I took him to a college day thing, & I was in charge of cooking dinner, making sure he ate*, did homework, & also the fun job of chauffeuring him to & fro his important high school activities. On one such occasion, I was to pick him up from a group study session (or group project, or something):

    [I pull up & he comes out of the building. As he approaches the car, a Justin Timberlake song comes on the radio.]
    Me: Ooouuu, you lucked out! This JT song just began.
    Him: Uh, I don’t like Justin Timberlake.
    Me: Oh, so maybe you’re not so lucky. [as I proceed to turn the volume up.]

    At work yesterday, this woman called me & gave me her address so that I can send her something. She lives in Arlington, VA; right next to the nation’s capitol.

    Me: so that’s xxx Garfield Street? Garfield, as in the cat?
    Her: uhhh….
    Me: [light bulb going off]Um, I guess that’s probably Garfield, as in the president, huh? [realizing that a street named Garfield next to the nation’s capitol is named after a former prezzie, not a kitty.]
    Her: Yeah, it’s Garfield like the president.

    actors & hookers

    You know what I was thinking about last night? I was thinking about how actors & prostitutes are pretty much the same.

    I mean, they both do & say as they are told. There is someone there to “direct” their actions. The prettier ones make a lil more moolah. They both get paid just for showing up & doing/saying what they’re told.

    Then I started thinking about Will Smith. I think I was thinking about all this b/c I saw some commercial for that new movie of his before I went to bed. I wasn’t watching tv, but you know how if the tv’s on, it’s in the corner of your eye?

    So, then I was thinking how Big Willie started out mostly in music, & is now mainly acting. And his wife was mostly acting before, & now she’s mainly singing (she’s always on tour w/ her band whenever I hear about her). Funny, huh? (ironic-funny, not haha-funny).

    UPDATE: After I wrote this, I remembered when I was in school. I went into my undergrad to study architecture & sociology. I recalled that in my 2nd year of studio, we were told that architects are like whores, b/c you have to ‘put out’ whatever the client wants. Only a very select few will ever get to design what they truly want. I eventually switched outta arch, & just finished w/ a major in Sociology, which I love.

    my gay Christmas

    So, I put a smile on some truck driver’s face this morn. Wanna know how? I was rockin out in my car to my gay Christmas music. Last night, I went through my cds & found what I was looking for. My fave Christmas mix that I made a few years back.

    So, I was totally rockin out in my car. Dancin in my seat, boppin my head, shakin all around, & singin my own harmonies when their was just music & no words. This is ‘how I do’ when I’m by myself.

    But it makes me happy. And I know this pickup truck driver was one of the construction ppl who’s having a hard time getting the project they’re working on done, b/c they keep getting bothered by ppl who know nothing (that reminds me of Schultzie from Hogan’s Heroes “I know NUTT-THING!”). Sorry, I’m just completely cracking myself up this morn. Anyway, what I meant to say is that the pick-up truck driver-dude saw me boppin around, & I know he thought I was silly, but at least for an instant he wasn’t all worried about his day. And that’s kinda cool.

    Ok, so back to my Gay Christmas music. Now, don’t get all ‘huffy-puffy-whaddya-mean-gay-music’. I’m not sayin it in a bad way at all. There’s diff types of music. Let’s all face it. Esp w/ Christmas. There’s the breathy Christmas music (ie, ‘Santa Baby’, & any Christmas song done by Christina Aguilera). There’s the sentimental stuff (ie, Nat King Cole or Bing Crosby).

    And then there’s what I was listening to this morn. Christmas music written by George Michael. Actually, it was 2-fold gay, cause not only is it George Michael music (which I love, love, LOVE; btw); but it’s also a version of his song that’s sung by 2 gay-homosexuals. Yes, I know it’s redundant to say gay-homosexual, but that’s just how I roll.

    It’s the little things I do that crack myself up. I do tend to amuse myself. Like, one of my fave things to do is to mix up numbers & letters when I’m making lists. I’ll start off w/ the 1, 2, 3, then put down ‘d’. It cracks me up! I know, it’s silly, but I’m just a corny person who loves corny stuff. I also love Bob Newhart & his old funny records.

    a rose by any other name….

    Ok, so the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens was a man previously known as Steven Georgiou, & eventually called himself ‘Yusuf Islam’, has released an album where he is simply going by ‘Yusuf’. Is he pulling a Madonna (or Cher)?

    I’m all for ppl changing their minds. I know I’ll change my mind a million times, & then back to the original thought at the last sec. But I don’t do so in a way to confuse ppl. Even when he changed his name when he converted to Islam, I still called him ‘Cat Stevens’. So, I think I’m gonna continue to do so.

    Even when Prince went to ‘the Artist’, I still called him ‘Prince’. He was always & has always been Prince to me. So, I’m gonna keep callin him Cat Stevens. Not ‘Cat’. The full name, Cat Stevens.

    This reminds me of a story of a boy I met in my college days. Wanna hear? Ok.

    So, my bff & I met this dude at a party, & (we swear) we were introduced to him as ‘Bob’. We met him at a party, & maybe it was the noise/music/medley of tonix*/whatev; but we thought his name was Bob. So, we continued to call him Bob for the next 6-8 years. I don’t know how long exactly, but a long time. We still see & talk to him. My bff is still good friends with him. Point is, a few years ago (3-4, again time can be hazy), he told us that his name was not Bob, but really Rob. He had always answered to Bob, b/c it didn’t bother him, but now he’s decided to let us know. So, for the next 2 years after finding out his real name, we (or mostly I) called him ‘Bob-Rob’, or alternatively ‘Rob-Bob’.

    *tonix is a word made-up by moi. It’s a combination of tonics & toxics. It can apply to anything, & only I & others that may have been present at the time may know what it applied to in any given instance.