Crotchet equals ninety.

 Today the plan is to continue washing down the house.

I knew the readers would
like a picture. It helps some
of them to work out the 
English grammar.

I use Peter's mixture of warm water, dishwashing liquid and vinegar.

I'll also do a little bit of double bass practice.

The thirds and sixths practice went very well on the violin yesterday. The plan for my Bluegrass performance is all set up. Now it just needs practice. I've also been asked to play at a library in May. I'll play with Daryl. My bass player is going to be out of action because his second child will just have arrived around then.

I'll turn up to crotchet equals a hundred for the house cleaning. I think that'll be fast enough. I'll listen to the metronome and keep a steady tempo. 

Metronome tempos can be catchy. I hope that my elderly neighbour doesn't start doing everything at crotchet = 100 while I'm working but it often happens with a strong metronome beat. This was going to be explained in my story (Crotchet equals ten) before a reader took over the story. It's sort of like when you're driving in a 50kph zone and some idiot behind you in a big ute thing is right up your bum. 

For some reason they're generally black.
Maybe it's an attempt to make them look
more scary? Darth Vader would drive a
black ute, after all.

You have two choices, either go faster to make them happy, or set your car metronome to kph = 50.

They're probably feeling held up and pissed off but look at the sign! That's the law.

Normally they succumb and back off a bit. For some reason they don't do the same on 100kph roads. I think this is because they think that the 100kph sign means that you must do 100kph or faster.

To keep yourself calm, and your metronome locked in, it is a good idea to remember that wise old Italian phrase, "La mamma degli imbecilli è sempre incinta."

The mother of imbeciles is always pregnant.

 I don't understand the need to drive fast. Is it showing off how good your car is? Is it a cool thing to do? Is it just that you are so busy and need to get there in a hurry? Are you the CEO of some big company? 

How many CEOs of big companies would live in Wainuiomata? To get out of our suburb (which is famous for its very good jokes) you have to drive over a big hill that has an 80kph speed limit. I like to travel over it at 60kph because there are many accidents on this hill. Huge amounts of cars go shooting past me as I ascend the hill. They're all following the car in front of them very closely and more than likely going faster than 80kph. For a start, it is obvious that they don't know about physics and that is why we get so many nose to tail crashes on the road. 

At the bottom of the hill, on the Lower Hutt side, there are traffic lights. It always amuses me to see cars that have bolted past parked up just a few cars ahead and waiting for the lights to turn green. What did they achieve?

Oops, sorry. Some of you will be getting desperate for a picture or two.

Hey, and don't forget that you can now get a metronome on your phone for free!

Ciao tutti.

Crotchet equals sixty-five.

I'm having a slow start to the morning. My first job for the day will probably be to practise some violin chords. I have the 6th and 5th chords pretty much nailed (in all keys), but I want to do a bit more work on the 3rd and 4th ones. For the music that I'm working on (Bluegrass style) I find the 6th and 5th chords to be ideal, though obviously I'm also going to use some 3rds and 4ths. 

It's good that Peter is progressing with sorting out his eye problems. He put three pieces of music on his latest blog. Maybe I was a bit harsh with the first two tracks - I think I said they were shit. I did have a quick relisten and the second track sounded okay. In the first track, the guitarist seemed to be imitating flies. Ah well, if Pete enjoys it, I have no problem with that.

I had a look at Robert's posts. They keep changing order, or something. 

Things I remember seeing are:

• Mel Gibson wants to be a Catholic, but he doesn't like popes.
• There seems to be a whole book about Adam and Eve.
• There was a comment about me not being impressed about Robert taking over my story.
• Robert has a big swimming pool.
• Robert still calls himself Robert Testore.

What got me onto the name 'Testore' was that Carlo Antonio Testore made the bass played by Giovanni Bottesini. Well, he did make some violoncelli too, so maybe that is the link to Robert? I'm sure that he wouldn't just steal my ideas.

I wonder who wrote the 'book' about Adam and Eve? From the little I read, there seems to be quite a bit about who will be saved and who is going to suffer forever. In an attempt to get on the right side of things, I'm now shopping at Pack'nSave.

Well, that's it from me for today - I'd better get back to downsizing. Whoops, no, that's Peter.

Ciao tutti.

Crotchet equals ten.

~ A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR~

This story will not be continuing at the present time. In the comments in Chapter Four the storyline was stolen by a reader and left the author feeling that a clear view of where the story was going had been lost or, at least, confused. The author is aware that someone wrote on another blog, "Parallel conversation is an art." The author is pretty sure that pigs can fly.

ENJOY YOURSELF AS YOU PERUSE THE BLOGS. FEEL FREE TO SIN, IF THAT'S YOUR THING.

Crotchet equals ten. Chapter Four.

The St. Pat's communion hosts were stored in a room that was looked after by an old priest named Father Scrambury. Father Pliss asked Petar to go and pick up a pack so that they wouldn't be short in the chapel. Petar set off at crotchet = 120, as was his custom. Check out crotchet = 120, it's a pretty fast walk - 120 steps in a minute. Most people would walk slower. Probably somewhere between crotchet = 80 and crotchet = 100. Petar didn't really have to think about his pace, it was ingrained in him. In fact, it was almost like his inbuilt metronome was controlling all around him. Like how minutes and hours really go by at the same speed for everyone but, depending on what you're doing, an hour can seem like forever, or it can fly past. Maybe there's more to time than we realise?

Fr. Scrambury's storeroom was way around the back of the school in an area that few people visited or really knew about, so the only person that Petar thought he might see around there was Fr. Scrambury, but the old guy did have a tendency to wander off and be quite hard to find.

Petar entered this hidden away area of the school. Then he saw that he was not alone!

The big fat boy and his scrawny friend were there. The fat boy grinned when he saw his victim.

"Hey Penis, you shouldn't be out in the open!" he mocked as they both moved in closer to Petar. The scrawny boy was boxing the air. He was fast!

For Petar there was not much time to think. Fortunately, as well as practising the violin, he had spent a lot of time rehearsing for a situation like this. He saw his metronome like it was right in front of him.

The setting on the metronome was crotchet = 120. He wound it down to crotchet = 10 and let himself slip into that mind set. When a metronome is set at this speed, it clicks every six seconds. That's actually quite a long time. Before the second click he had decisively poked the fat boy in the eyes and still had time to step in and knee the other guy in the balls. They were both probably still living in crotchet = 120 and were probably unaware of what had happened when the second click sounded. Then the pain set in and they both rolled around on the ground. 

Fr. Scrambury was not around but he had left the package of hosts by the storeroom door. Petar picked them up and headed off at crotchet = 120. There was no point sticking around and he knew it was unlikely that the two bullies would be reporting the incident to the rector. What! Beaten up by one little year nine boy? Though he did suspect that this wouldn't be the end of it.

To be continued.

Crotchet equals ten. Chapter Three.

 

At home the Petravac family always spoke in their native tongue. This didn't help their English language development, but the kids got plenty of exposure at school. When Petar was about 9 years old, he asked his father for some fighting advice. Adem was not a violent man, but he had grown up in a country where it was good to know how to defend yourself, it was a place where violence could escalate quite quickly. He advised his son, "I've seen you guys at school. What you do is play fighting. It's very unlikely that someone will get seriously hurt. You don't want to escalate a situation like that. Just be kind to each other. Later in life you might be unfortunate enough to get into a situation that is much more serious. You'll recognise it if it happens to you. Most of us are not trained fighters so, if the situation gets bad, there are a few things that you can do. Remember that these two things I'm going to tell you about will damage the other person, so you must know it is the right time and you must be strong and decisive. You can't afford to be worried about the consequences. I'm talking about a situation where you are seriously threatened and there are no potential weapons close by. Firstly, and remember that you must be quick and decisive, with your first two fingers, poke your opponent in the eyes. Use all your force! Secondly, with your strongest knee, hit him in the balls. Make sure it's hard. You can worry about the consequences when he is obviously out of the fight. Either of these two moves, on its own, should do the trick. If it doesn't work out, run!"

Petar had plenty of time to think about his father's advice. He took time to imagine such a situation and the decisiveness and force he would need to possibly overpower a bigger and stronger opponent.

Now he was nearly thirteen. He didn't really have any close friends at school but most of the students left him alone most of the time. One teacher, a priest named Father Pliss, offered him a chance to become a sacristan. He accepted the offer because it helped him fill in morning break and lunchtime. Soon he was put in charge of looking after the communion hosts. On days when his appetite felt neglected, he was guilty of nibbling the occasional host.  Though, he had heard of earlier boys who had done worse things.

There were two boys who really seemed to have it in for him. They were year ten students. One was big and fat. The other was scrawny and quite quick with his hands. He'd soon got the message to avoid them like the plague.

To be continued.

Crotchet equals ten. Chapter Two.

 

Adem's English had only improved a little when it was time for Petar to go to secondary school. Adem was a devout Catholic, so his son was destined to attend St. Patrick's College. The school was well over one hundred years old and had been moved to Kilbirnie from its old site near the city centre. When Adem met with the year 9 dean, he gave Petar's official name as P. Enis. One can only blame this decision on his poor English. This decision was to make life hard for the boy from his very first day at college. No pun intended, but he became the butt of everyone's jokes - students and teachers alike. Maybe it was an attempt to be kind, but his form teacher called him Jimmy, and this caught on with all the form class members.

Jimmy Petar became quite withdrawn and found solace in his violin playing. He found his metronome to be a fascinating tool, and he used it all the time. For some reason he found crotchet = 120 to be like the rhythm of his body, his life blood. This was his 'home' tempo and he related all his practice and playing to it. 

He even bought an old style 'swinging arm' clockwork metronome that he found in an op shop. Metronomes were becoming a bit of an obsession.

He would move above his 'home' tempo to practise faster tunes, but he never forgot that practice at slow tempos produced very good results.

The slowest tempo available on his electronic metronome was crotchet = 10. He tried to make his mechanical metronome go slower than this, but the swinging arm couldn't cope. Metronomes are all about time. The concept of time was starting to control his violin playing, but the results were all good. Time is a vital part of playing music that too often gets overlooked in practice sessions.

The influence of his metronome soon started to go beyond his violin playing. As he walked from the bus stop to the school grounds, his walking naturally fell into crotchet = 120 though, on days when he was dreading being there, he found himself walking at crotchet = 100 or even crotchet = 80.

Passing students thought it was funny to yell out his name to him, "Hi P. Enis! What's up, my boy?" Petar just listened to the metronome and walked on. For Petar it was like the metronome was controlling all of life. Maybe other people didn't realise its true power?

To be continued.

Crotchet equals ten. Chapter One.

 

Okay, a bit of background for non-musicians. A metronome is a device used, by musicians, to practise 'playing in time' - that is, playing at a certain tempo and not speeding up or slowing down. If you set your metronome to 60 (beats per minute), the metronome will click on every second. If you set it to 120 (beats per minute), it'll click twice for every second. 

If you set it to 10, which most musicians will probably never do, it'll click once every six seconds. That is extremely slow! I repeat, extremely slow, and probably not of much use for people practising music. 

Adem Petravac came to Aotearoa many years ago with a very young family. He was from Bosnia and spoke three languages (Bosnian, Croation and Serbian), but his English was abysmal. His first born, a son, had been named Petar Enis Petravic. Petar was chosen because it was a popular family name. Adem had always preferred Enis, a Balkan name, and began calling his son that. To keep his family happy, he added a 'P' and called his son P. Enis. Remember that this guy had very little English.

P. Enis went to school in Wellington. The family lived in Island Bay, so his primary schools were in that area. Most of his classmates called him Petar because that was the name that teachers called out at roll time. He was a happy little boy and soon picked up quite a kiwi accent. 

At some point Petar was introduced to the violin. For him it was love at first sight and he was very keen to have lessons. His mum bought him one at a school fair. He was eight years old when he had his first lesson. The first piece he learnt was called 'The Little A and B March'. It only contained the notes A and B, on the A string. Petar did a regular amount of practice, but he was also interested in getting a girlfriend. Unfortunately, his other two siblings were both boys, so he knew very little about girls. He did try to find out more when he was younger.

The older girls at his primary school used a classroom that was up some outside steps. Petar was five at the time. He looked up, from under the steps, to see what mysteries girls hid under their skirts, as there was open space between each step. He was caught and firmly chastised by one of the older girls. Petar soon realised that, for him, getting a girlfriend had just been put way on the back burner. Hence the interest in the violin.

To be continued.