Blogging hit by crisis!

 

While most bloggers have been fairly busy posting, there has been a very noticeable drop off in comments left on these blogs.

 

Even the ever popular Richard's Bass Bag* has reported a slight drop.

Richard (of RBB), who is an ever popular blogger, suggested that the problem could be fixed if each blogger left a comment on each of the other 'popular' blogs.

Nothing to say? Here are some examples of fairly unspecific comments that wouldn't take long to leave. It could mean a lot to that blogger who is struggling to get one comment.

• "Not too bad."
• "You have some 'interesting' ideas"
• "Do you have other hobbies?"
• "I reckon you'd be great at running a fish n chips shop!"
• "I have a lot of friends who are Presbyterians."
• "Transubstantiation sounds like train station."
• "Does your double bass float?"
• "This could make a series!"
• "No, I like reading about drain laying."
• "My aunty used to say that the big bands are coming back."
• "Heaven? Remember that Mr. Linford is already there."
• "Anyway, who, these days, cares about intonation?"
• "Please don't turn this into a series."

Please feel free to use any of the above examples but please get out there and leave comments!

* the original bass bagging site

It's a scam!

I'm being plagued by scams at the moment.

Some mysterious person just sent me an email saying that I have just won a 170 piece tool kit. There was no mention of any company, just a link.

Well, fancy that!

The other night I got a message saying that my bank account had been compromised. They left me a link.

Hey, all you scammers out there (lowlifes), I may be nearly as old as Peter but I'm not stupid!

It's not that hard to tell the truth.

Here's something to cheer you up.

Here's one that Robert will enjoy.

I rushed into Nuova Lazio High School to cover an early spell after I received a text at 7.31am. (I got there at 8.20am - the spell was to start at 8.50am). I sat in the staffroom and read a text that said I wasn't needed until spell 4 (1.25pm). The text was sent at 10 to 8. I won't get paid for that wasted time. Might be time to move to another school. All schools are short of relievers but, at NLHS, preference seems to be given to Education Personal (an organisation that evidently costs the school more, but they require a full day to turn up). Hence, people like me, who have done the hard yards and who are more flexible with hours, are being given the short stick. That's just not fair. 

Hell!

What sort of creep creates a place like this?

Imagine a parent; a father. This father has children. Then he says to his children, when they are old enough to understand, that, if they don't love him the way he requires, he will torture them for the rest of their lives. Obviously, this is certainly not acceptable behaviour.

The Christian god goes a big step further - he, she, it is happy to torture his, her, its creations for eternity.

Eternity!

Think about it.

A loving god? Fuck no!

And to think that we sing about 'him' in our national anthem!

I'll use a Peter word to finish off...

Sheesh!

Ciao tutti.

Thanks be to God?

God of Nations at Thy feet,

In the bonds of love we meet,

Hear our voices, we entreat,

God defend our free land.

Guard Pacific's triple star

From the shafts of strife and war,

Make her praises heard afar,

God defend New Zealand.

I went to my daughter-in-law's capping ceremony yesterday. She has gained a Bachelor of Business degree. Well done Laura! I sat next to these two.

One of the degree recipients gave a speech. She spoke very well and her story was interesting but, her first words were, "Thanks be to God." She told us that her family was from Tokelau, so maybe she was talking about a Tokelauan god?


When she was finished we were asked to stand for the national anthem.
I didn't sing along because I find the words inappropriate. Anyway, I think they might have been talking about two different gods because the Maori verse sings about a god too.

E Ihowā Atua,
(Oh Lord, God)
O ngā iwi mātou rā,
(Of nations and of us too)
Āta whakarongona;
(Listen to us)
Me aroha noa
(Cherish us)
Kia hua ko te pai;
(Let goodness flourish),
Kia tau tō atawhai;
(May your blessings flow)
Manaakitia mai
(Defend)
Aotearoa

There's a lot of talk about colonization these days. Quite a few Maori, and others, talk about the damage colonization has caused. I certainly get their point. Okay, there have been some good spin offs (like the guitar and tempered music) but I imagine that the last thing they'd want to be stuck with is the god that colonizing missionaries brought with them from Europe (and other places). It's pretty safe to assume that the verse in Maori refers to another god.


Personally, I don't need to thank/sing to any of these gods. If we must have a god, let's go with Zeus.

Zeus, in ancient Greek religion, chief Deity of the pantheon, a sky and weather god who was identical with the Roman god Jupiter. His name may be related to that of the sky god Dyaus of the ancient Hindu Rigveda. Zeus was regarded as the sender of thunder and lightning, rain, and winds, and his traditional weapon was the thunderbolt. He was called the father (i.e., the ruler and protector) of both gods and men.

What a guy!


Ciao tutti.

No New Post - The Curmudgeon lets everybody down.

 

Mr. Spottydick* goes to Foxton.

"Name's Peter Spottydick and, before you ask, my dick isn't spotty." said Peter.

"I had absolutely no intention of asking anything like that sir. Are you after a room?" asked the man behind the counter.

"Yes. Just for one night. How much is it?"

"$140 but, if you have a One Card, you get it for $130."

Peter pulled out his One Card and the deal was done.

"Where's a good place to eat?" asked Peter.

"Good luck with that." said the man, "This is Foxton and it's Tuesday night. There is a Chinese takeaway a few blocks away and the supermarket doesn't close until seven."

Peter thought that the Chinese takeaway might be his best bet but firstly he'd visit the supermarket to pick up some of his favourite wine. He dropped his bag in the motel room. It was basic but clean. He looked around for the electronic curtain control but couldn't find anything. His heart sank as he realised you had to open them by hand. There was no fancy coffee maker either.

The Chinese takeaway wasn't hard to find, but it was closed. 

"Ah well," he thought, "I'll pick up a couple of Cleanskins and look for something to put in the microwave. I'm looking forward to a good bath, I just hope it's not in front of a big window with no curtains!"

There was a food brand called Stiffbone, so he chose a couple of their products and bought a cake of chocolate for good measure. 

He put his shopping in his car and took a walk down the main street. It was 5.45pm and everything was closed. EVERYTHING. He returned to the motel and unloaded his groceries. Then he saw something.

NO BATH!

No uncovered window either.

There was a shower. Yes, a shower. That was all.

Peter poured himself a very large glass of Cleanskin and then he sat down at his laptop and began to type.

"No, I'm not in Rosemary's office. I'm in a motel in Foxton. There is no bath. There is not even a big uncovered window to moan about and, if there was, it would look out onto an old shed. It looks like I'll be eating Stiffbone for dinner. Tonight I make you one promise. Next time I am in Auckland, or Wellington, or Christchurch, I will find absolutely NOTHING to complain about. So help me, the Presbyterian god!"

* Peter Spottydick is a fictitional character and is in no way related to Peter 'The Curmudgeon' from way up north. Peter Spottydick has never met Father Woodcock.

Gigs done. What do I practise next?

 Tuesday.

It's misty in Nuova Lazio.

No more need to practise those few pieces I've practised for months.

I have a clean slate.

Double Bass: Metronome practice is always important. I may also work on a bit of Bach from the unaccompanied cello suites. There is no chance of any gigs in the near (or distant) future, I'll probably put more effort into the violin - there is more chance of a gig there.

Violin: I have a repertoire of over 30 tunes that I could play with a trio or with my backing tracks. There is always the chance of a solo gig with backing tracks. Some of the tunes have been neglected and need a bit of work. I'll start there but I'll also continue to work on some technical stuff.

Around the country: 

Peter is in Christchurch and moaning about his accommodation. I don't know if he has ever stayed a night in Foxton so that he can get a set of very, very heavy gates moved. It appears that he can't work the appliances in the posh place where he is staying. At least you can get takeaways in Christchurch.

Robert is spending his free time playing a gypsy piece in 7/8, though, to be honest, I listened a few times and couldn't really hear the 7/8. Maybe that's my problem? Maybe it's a very slow 7? Anyway, he's being productive and his violin is sounding good. He can also work all the appliances in his house.

It's Tuesday in Foxton. Lots of big trucks will have driven down the main road early in the morning. The motel where I stayed often has a No Vacancies sign up. I can't work that out. The night I stayed there were two or three of us. Maybe the owner just puts up that sign to get a day (and night) off?

Stokes Valley? Same shit, different day.

Well, that's it from me this morning. Expect a post or two from The Curmudgeon, if he can get his laptop working. If he can't open the curtains, he'll have to write any posts in the dark. Robert will be out cleaning but might post around 6pm. You can check out what he's having for dinner. 

Ciao tutti.

Innuendoes and fun activities in NZ's own fox town.

 The Tawa Library gig went really well.

Pity about the yellow sign
being where it was.

I played four violin tunes and two double bass tunes.

Now down to business...

Peter (aka The Curmudgeon and TC) seems to have two things stuck in his old mind at the moment:

• Penis innuendoes and
• That Foxton is a fun place to be on a Sunday evening.

He even manages to draw a penis suggestion from this shirt.

The next thing he is promoting Foxton (NZ's own fox town) as the nightlife capital of Aotearoa.

Okay, to be fair, the good folk of Foxton probably want to forget the welcome signs that stood at both ends of their town a few years back.

"New Zealand's own fox town" - it seems that any photographic images of the signs have been carefully destroyed. 

Anyway, Peter's mind will be much more satisfied thinking up something for this picture.

Ciao tutti.

It seems that Peter is worried about how I'll be dressed for my gig today.

 This should put his poor old mind to rest.

Thanks for the t-shirt Rob.

7.19am.

Well, it was when I started writing this post.

Actually, it's 7.20am already.

Robert is probably up already and cleaning a Presbyterian church somewhere.

I'm not sure if Peter is still in bed, but of one thing I can assure you, he won't be in the office. He's not allowed in there.

Peter is in Christchurch and probably making a nuisance of himself in wine bars. 

He's still pissed off about that pregnant waitress, years ago, who gave him a beer.

I'm playing at Tawa Library this morning. Must remember to tighten my violin bow. I'll be using minimal gear this morning. Unless I break a string, or my tiny little backing track amp starts playing up, I should be okay. I'm not amplifying my instruments.

Tomorrow I return to Himatangi. I get to stay the night in Foxton - LUCKY ME!

"New Zealand's own fox town."

There is absolutely nothing to do in Foxton on a Sunday evening. No restaurants, no movie theatres. Nothing. And, if there was anything, it's not going to be open on Sunday evening.

I have to be at the pottery (Himatangi) at 7am on Monday morning to let some guys in to move some heavy gates. PAIN IN THE ARSE.

It's raining in Nuova Lazio. No big deal really. I just hope it's not raining in Himatangi Monday morning. 

Well, that's it from me.

Ciao tutti.

I scuffed it up, big time!

 Yesterday I did a gig that I'd practised for months for months - music month double bass and violin solo gig at Johnsonville library.

The library is quite a big space, so I took amps, wiring, transmitters, etc. I TOOK A LOT OF GEAR.

I would have much preferred to play acoustically. 

It was hot in the library. When it was time to play, I was sweaty and thirsty. A lot of thought went into plugging everything in and making sure it was working.

Gig time:

The bass felt sticky - the space must have been heated. Playing felt uncomfortable, I'd also somehow managed to get the bass amp settings a bit wrong. Playing was hard and I made quite a few mistakes that were not little ones. I played three double bass pieces and then hoped to redeem myself on the violin. 

The violin sounded scratchy. I played pretty well but the tone wasn't there. I played up high and the amp made some unusual sounds. I broke a few bow hairs. Then, near the end of my last piece I noticed my mistake.

I'd forgotten to tighten the bow hair!

I had been so busy wiring things up that I'm hadn't tightened my bow hair! 

I was playing on the stick!

When the bow is not in use,
violinists loosen the hair so
that it is not under pressure
all the time.

The people there were very kind with their words BUT I knew that I had scuffed up big time, and after all that work!

On Saturday I get to play the same repertoire again in Tawa. At least I won't be plugged in and, I can assure you, I won't overlook tightening my bow hair!

Ciao tutti.

Don't be balmy! I'm off to Palmy.

 I know the journey really well. This time we're taking Steve home to his mum and dad.

Transmission Gully

It'll be a small ceremony, we're expecting three other people. I'll play Autumn Leaves again - this has become Steve's song and I'll probably play The Last Post, or Blue Smoke, on one of his teapots.

I'll miss my good friend Harrison while we're away. Here's a picture of us having a few laughs.

I hope that Peter and Robert are able to hold our little blogging community together in my absence (only a few days).

I hope the statue of Jesus feels less neglected and that TC doesn't go on too long about his drainage work. After all, we want to keep readers awake.

Yes, that's rule number one - if you're running a blog, always try to keep the readers awake.

Ciao tutti.

I'll be back soon to inspect the blogging damage.

Gig time, well nearly.

 

It's a busy time in Nuova Lazio. Tomorrow I need to go up to Himatangi to help solve a little (well, quite big really) problem - moving some very big and heavy gates, Then, on Sunday it's back to Palmy for Steve's burial - I'll play Autumn Leaves (violin) as he is put to rest. We return to Nuova Lazio on Tuesday and then, on Wednesday at 3.30pm, I play a solo concert at the Johnsonville Library. This performance will be repeated on the following Saturday at the Tawa Library at 11am.

I only play for half an hour and I'll be playing 6 pieces - 3 double bass solo pieces and three solo violin pieces. I'm using backing tracks for the violin pieces.

I've been practising very hard. The first double bass piece (Sii Gentile) is the hardest because it is a very exacting piece that needs a lot of precision. I don't use sheet music when I play, so this piece has to be well memorized. Very well memorized.

This finally got me to do VERY SLOW PRACTICE.

The beginning is the easiest part. I wouldn't say
the piece is technically hard, it's just remembering 
the order, and important little bits.

At speed the piece only takes just over two minutes to play. It's in 6/8 and I slow it right back to quaver equals 40. It then takes nearly 10 minutes to play the piece through once - I do three play throughs in a practice session. The metronome ticks by very, very slowly and it takes effort to hold back on the quavers and get the metronome clicks exactly with the notes. Your concentration is truly tested.

The piece is 64 bars long and each bar contains 6 quavers. That's 384 clicks (quavers) and that adds up to 9.6 minutes.

Okay, Peter is probably asleep by now (if he has got this far) but,

this way of practising really works!

ZZZZZZZZZZZZ

I'll leave you there for today and go do my practice.

Ciao tutti.

This is the funniest card I've ever seen!

It really is!

I showed it to the shop assistant and two guys collecting for the Salvation Army. None of them got the joke.

I wonder if Peter and/or Robert will?

They certainly didn't have jokes this good in 3P in 1966! I don't know whether a Presbyterian or a Catholic are more likely to get it.

Ah well, I guess the comments left will tell the story.

How to have a discussion.

 

When two people are exchanging views there are four possible outcomes:

• Person A is correct.
• Person B is correct.
• Both people made some good points, but neither is completely correct.
• Both people are talking shit.

In a discussion (sometimes called an argument), either consciously or unconsciously, different techniques are sometimes used.

1) Talk fast and loudly and don't let the other person get a word in.

2) Use big, obscure words and take a condescending attitude. Talk as if you know you have superior knowledge.

3) Make your side of the discussion sound like it is scientific and logical when it is really based on a few foggy thoughts. 

* * *

Phillip stood behind the counter in an empty church shop.

It was early and the congregation wouldn't start showing up for about another fifteen minutes. Phillip was a thinking kind of guy and thinking was exactly what he was doing now. Normally he would be back in Auckland at his Presbyterian church, but he had become curious about what he had heard referred to as 'the one true church'. So, while staying with his aging mum in Hutt City*, he'd attended a few services at this particular Catholic church. 

One of the parish priests, Father Dekcuf, had been quite chatty and had invited him to help out in the church shop. Phillip thought that it might be a way to get to know some locals, so here he was - a Presbyterian running a church shop in a Catholic church. He wondered if there were any Catholics who did things in Presbyterian churches. 

Father Dekcuf arrived and poked his head around the door which led into the church shop.

"Hello Mr. Nis. You're bright and early!"

"Please call me Phillip, or Phillip Edward if you like. I was just wondering about what makes this church different from a Presbyterian church."

"Graven images for a start." said Father Dekcuf. "We like to refer to our church as the one true church."

"And how do you think Presbyterians feel about that?"

"Well, their churches are bare rooms which sort of tells you that Jesus is not present."

"Maybe Jesus is a minimalist?" Phillip suggested.

"No, the difference is transubstantiation." Father Dekcuf butted in.

"What is that?" Phillip asked.

"The conversion of the substance of the Eucharistic elements into the body and blood of Christ at consecration, with only the appearances of bread and wine still remaining."

"But how do you know that?" asked Philip.

"I'm a very educated priest and have read everything on the subject. You will learn these facts if you study the one true faith."

"But doesn't the word faith imply a bit of a guess?"

"I was just thinking that you have a bit of an unfortunate name Mr. Nis. If you put the initials of your two Christian names in front of your surname... well, it spells out a part of the male body."

"Yes, I know, it's a bit like that old joke where someone refers to Pen Island and then the two words get adjusted a bit."

"Well, I must be off and get dressed for mass. No need to thank me for the free lesson on Catholicism."

Phillip thought about their discussion. He couldn't quite see how Father Dekcuf had managed to come out on top, or, at least, to think that he had. Phillip walked out of the one true church and headed down to the nearest coffee shop. One, he needed a coffee and, two, it seemed like a more reasonable place to think. Don't forget that Phillip is a thinking kind of guy.

* real name Lower Hutt

New Post?

 Sorry, I have no time for a new post this morning as I have to be on the road at 7.30am.

The biggest word I learnt when I was young was ethnomusicology. Actually, I'm not a fan of big or obscure words. I think that clear communication is more important.

Though here is my favourite Italian 'big word' - aspirapolvere.

You boys (Peter and Roberto) can use Google Translate to look it up.

Have fun boys.

Ciao tutti.