At Odds...and Odds & Ends.

Dear Internet,

Let's discuss some contrasting things, and then maybe some comparisons.  Or just some stuff, either contrasting or comparing.  Or whatever.

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Last night at 8:30, my car told me it was 67 degrees outside.  Then tonight at 10, my car told me it was 23 degrees.  And snowing.  (My car did not tell me that it was snowing.  I had to figure that one out on my own.  The only variable that was the same both nights was that it's been rather windy here for several days now.)

Last night, I wore my lightest fleece jacket, and I was hot.  Tonight I wore my heaviest fleece jacket and I was cold.  (I should probably actually get out my winter coats and jackets now.  And maybe some gloves.  But I'm not ready for hats until it's only 15 degrees.)

So, it's cold outside.  And yet inside orchestra rehearsal tonight, a box elder bug decided to join my stand partner and me for our last piece of the evening (probably because it's cold outside, and who wouldn't want to live indoors and listen to us play some Mozart?).  Mr. Elder obscured the notes of our musical score, and I flicked him to the ground with the tip of my bow.  (Those violin bows are handy objects - I didn't even have to actually touch the bug with my hand!  Also, I'd say the bows are good for closing freezer doors, too, but that's not really true, because when I was a kid, I broke a bow trying to close a freezer door, and had to pay my parents back to get another one.  Why was I closing a freezer door with my violin bow?  'Cause I was probably lazy and didn't want to move two feet closer to it, that's why.  (I wish I could say I practiced so much that the bow really became an extension of my body, and *that's* why I did it, but let's not kid ourselves.)  Or maybe there was a box elder bug trying to get inside the freezer.  I don't rightly remember.  But if you're wondering what I was doing in the kitchen while I was obviously in the middle of violin practice and what I was putting into or getting out of the freezer, I couldn't answer that.  It was a long time ago.  Like, last week.  Kidding, kidding.  It was sometime between last week and Mr. Lincoln's second inaugural address: a very long time ago.)

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Happy Birthday, Stacey!!!

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I went to see a Guthrie play yesterday, and I have to admit, I'm not enjoying the new season so far.  Two plays, both by Christopher Hampton.  If Mr. Hampton was a professor teaching a history course at a university or community college (woohoo!  the 13th grade!), I might enjoy the lectures he pawns off as scripts.  However, I was at a theater, not a college lecture hall, and really just wanted to be entertained.  Yesterday's offering (Appomattox) was marginally better than last month's (Tales from Hollywood - it's awful; though Lee Sellars did a good job with the acting, my belief is there were absolutely no other redeeming qualities in the production), but neither was worth it.  I don't mind getting a history lesson whilst I'm being entertained, but please have some sort of purpose to it, man!    Instead of random bits of history stuck together (turn in an accurate timeline to receive extra credit!), or presidential speeches verbatim that I could read elsewhere (or blog about!  Yes, Appomattox starts out with the very same Lincoln's second inaugural address that I quoted only days ago!), put together something interesting and amusing instead of a hodgepodge that makes me feel like I'm going to be tested on the subject matter (must receive a grade of C or higher to be allowed to leave the theater!).  

Part of it is the Guthrie's fault.  Mr. Dowling, in future please do not put two plays such as these on your two main stages at the same time and force poor season ticket holders to endure such similar, drab productions contiguously.  Sure, teach me something important, but put something lighthearted before it!  Or after it!  Or even during it!  

Next up is The Servant of Two Masters, and at least it sounds a bit more frivolous (but likely has a good moral to the story; hidden messages are sometimes okay - especially the dull history ones - like hiding vegetables in something really tasty!).  The picture looks entertaining!

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I get tomorrow off as Veterans Day observed.  But really, veterans should be thanked today and tomorrow, so: Thank you, veterans.  I am very appreciative of the fact that I can blather on and on and on and on on this little ol' blog because of how you've fought for me and my freedom of speech and freedom of religion and pretty much all of my constitutional freedoms.  And for that, I'm much obliged.

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Oh, bother.  Yesterday was just not such a good day for firing on all cylinders (except for that 67 degree part).  After the play, two friends and I went to a restaurant that's new to us for dinner.  Keeping with the whole English pub-named places as last month, we went to Porter & Frye.  Internet, don't go there, either.  The food is mediocre (except the bread and butter at the beginning...and that's probably not a good enough reason to go.  I'm told you can get nearly that same combination in jail), and the service is terrible.  I loved that they had so many fig dishes on the menu - but while the mushroom risotto with figs was actually pretty good, the fig tart for dessert was horrible.  I really do wish that chefs and restaurant owners would understand that dessert is not something to be skimped on - it is the last impression a person frequently has of their establishment, and if it disappoints, it leaves a sour taste in one's mouth.

But the company and conversation were very pleasant, and the weather was good for strolling around downtown Mpls a bit on the way home, so there's that.

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So, Internet.  That's all of the stuff at odds, and odds and ends I can think of at the moment, so here's to ending oddly abruptly.

xoxo,

Minny LinnEy

Honestly, Abe got it right.

Modern times, pop culture, technological advances.  None of that really matters when you get down to it in many respects because human nature is still human nature, and we still struggle with the same things we always have - just a different time and place and subject (sometimes).  I do not say this lightly, Internet, especially on election day.  But it needs to be said - whatever the outcome from today's voting, God is sovereign and in control.  And it's not as if my entire life rests on election outcomes.  (However, this doesn't mean I don't think people should vote; they should, and I did.)   

"The Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom He will."  Daniel 4:25

"He removes kings and sets up kings."  Daniel 2:21

Abraham Lincoln in his Second Inaugural Address on March 4, 1865, got it right, and if you merely substitute any "modern" issue in place of slavery and divided parties in place of North and South, it still holds true today:

Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the duration which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with or even before the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God’s assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men’s faces, but let us judge not, that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered. That of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has His own purposes. 'Woe unto the world because of offenses; for it must needs be that offenses come, but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh.' If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman’s two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said 'the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.'

And would you look at this: again, human nature does not change, even though the times have.  Abraham Lincoln during the height of the Civil War (Proclamation Appointing a National Fast Day, March 30, 1863):   

We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of Heaven. We have been preserved, these many years, in peace and prosperity. We have grown in numbers, wealth and power, as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace, and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us; and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us! It behooves us then, to humble ourselves before the offended Power, to confess our national sins, and to pray for clemency and forgiveness...All this being done, in sincerity and truth, let us then rest humbly in the hope authorized by the Divine teachings, that the united cry of the Nation will be heard on high, and answered with blessings, no less than the pardon of our national sins, and the restoration of our now divided and suffering Country, to its former happy condition of unity and peace.

Happy voting,
Minny LinnEy

Principled President

Beloved all over the world:

Statue of Ronald Reagan in Liberty Square, Budapest, Hungary

Beloved not just for his fight for freedom during the Cold War, but also because of his moral values and boldness to proclaim his faith:



As we get ready to vote tomorrow, I pray we elect principled politicians who will steer our country down a moral and faith-filled path.  Happy voting!

Police Blotters

Internet, 

There is something so quaintly small-town about police blotters.  Sometimes they're dull as dirt, but sometimes they can provide a girl with several minutes of entertainment.  Take, for instance, one that I recently found from Montana - the Flatwood Beacon blotter.  They use terms like "getting sassy" and "grayish orange" and such, and automatically jump to conclusions like "the neighbor kids were playing with 'dynamite'" when they hear noises, and liberally apply quotation marks, and whatever the issue, people call in "to talk about it."  Hilarious, I tells ya.  The best part is that they name the daily blotter with the "criminal" headline of the day: pure gold.  There are oft-repeated themes throughout the blotter, the most common of which apparently include the following:

Intoxication

Animals (wild AND domesticated)

Paranoia (sometimes justified, see 8:50 p.m.)

Marital Bliss/Domestics

Hunger (especially when applied to animals, see above)

Pyrotechnics/Dynamite/Arsenals

Crazy People/Hallucinations

Homespun Resolutions to these "Problems"

I am also amazed at how often these stories are really like soap operas - if you read through enough of them, you can follow entire story lines from start to finish.  For example, at 11 a.m. on October 18, "A Hungry Horse resident found a bullet hole in one of their windows.  The caller has a suspect in mind."  Then later at 8:33 p.m., "The Hungry Horse resident who called earlier about the bullet hole called back, this time intoxicated."  I believe if we wait long enough, we'll find out more about this unfolding drama in next week's episode.  

Anyway, I have culled through about a week's worth of blotter to find the gems below, and have included my very own commentary for your convenience, Internet.  

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Sunday, October 21 - "Hunter Hallucination"

8:36 a.m.  Someone driving down U.S. Highway 93 North reported that a bearded man was walking down the "suicide lane" trying to hitch a ride.

1:08 p.m.  A Columbia Falls man claimed that a dirty-mouthed hunter in camouflage was in his neighborhood aiming his bow at homes.  The reporting party was arrested for outstanding warrants and later admitted that the bowhunter was probably a "hallucination."  ['Cause any story like this will really help to clean up the stereotype of Montanans we all have in our minds.]  

Monday, October 22 - "Rabbit Infestation"

2:08 p.m.  A man on Ezy [I wouldn't have expected Montanans to be the type of people to modernize  the spelling of "easy"] Drive called in to complain about a rabbit infestation.  He said that the neighbors have between 30 and 40 uncontained rabbits and admitted to using them as target practice.  [Seems as if he already has the problem under control.  But then again, it sounds like he had previously reported the situation of "perpetually multiplying rabbits" the week before, and just decided it was faster to take the matter into his own hands...and the week before that the guy who owned the rabbits seems to have called in, and now the whole thing has taken on a Hatfield-McCoy-like feel.]  

Tuesday, October 23 - "Sad Cows"

'Twas a hopping one o'clock hour:

1:26 p.m.  Someone in Hungry Horse wanted to talk about their granddaughter's bad habits.  [Criminal habits?  Tough love, Granny, tough love.]  

1:40 p.m.  Reportedly, a woman renting property on Twin Lakes Road pulled the landowner's property stakes out of the ground and made her own creative property line.  [Give it another 10-20 years depending on state law, and you've got a decent case for adverse possession, I suppose.]  

1:53 p.m.  A woman on Mission Trail heard cows "crying" and coyotes howling.  She felt unnerved by what she heard and hoped a deputy might check it out.  [I assume the deputy's response was along the lines of, "Um, yeah, lady - it's called the circle of life."]  

Wednesday, October 24 - "Gas Station Blacklist"

3:01 p.m.  There was an incident in Evergreen involving a woman with "wild hair" and Bud Light pants.  [What the heck are "Bud Light pants"?]

6:22 p.m. A woman on Eagle Drive threatened to shoot the neighbor's barking dog.  She was advised to not shoot the dog.  She responded that she would call 911 every time it barked.  She was told not to do that either.  [Love this.]

Thursday, October 25 - "Sick, Sad Pony"

9:48 a.m.  Apparently, one battery was lying on the highway near Lakeside.  [While littering is bad, people, really?  I wonder what size it was...AAA?  D?  Car battery?  I need more information, Flathead County Sheriff and/or Kalispell Police.]  

2:10 a.m.  Someone called in to talk about a "very small, tiny pony" that hangs its head down like it doesn't feel very good.  

6:03 p.m.  A Kalispell man complained that his mom was trying to steal his truck.  [I wonder if the mother was intoxicated?  See next entry.]

7:49 p.m.  An intoxicated Kalispell woman called in hoping that a deputy would arrest her husband because he refused to allow her to drive.  She later admitted to feeling "stupid" for calling.  [Again, could this be the same woman as the 6:03 p.m. incident, or do they just have a lot of family driving issues?]

9:29 p.m.  Happy horses ran free on Middle View Trail.  They were collected and taken home.  [Now we know why there was a sad pony - he wasn't allowed to go out and play with all of his friends.]  

Friday, October 26 - "Stuffed Dog"  

7:29 p.m.  Reportedly, someone was swerving and driving down Birch Grove Road without their [sic] headlights on.  The owner of the vehicle explained to a deputy that he was unfamiliar with the operation of such things.  [The owner?  I suppose that could happen when you rent or borrow a car with which you're unfamiliar, but owner?  I certainly hope it was a new car.]  

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Internet, I will most definitely be bookmarking this site so that I can keep up with the goings-on over in Flathead County.  It's simply too entertaining...

xoxo,
Minny LinnEy

Latin Listening: What really caused (causes?) me to love choral music.

Dear Internet, 

Years and years and years ago, the community orchestra I play for (on-again, off-again; what a relationship I've had with this ensemble) performed Francis Poulenc's Gloria.  

I do not recall loving this piece at first.  (I don't recall hating it, either.)  As is my usual wont, the more we played it, the more I loved certain passages of it.  Music is frequently like that for me (and probably other people, too): it grows on me the more time I invest in it by practicing and playing and listening to it.  I can usually find redeeming qualities in all kinds of music.  Not always, but even pieces I really don't enjoy frequently have a passage in it that resonates with me, and I can appreciate it if not actually grow to love it.  But for the most part, there are so many pieces with a few notes, a measure or two, that are just so beautiful, I could listen to those few bars over and over and over and over.  

Well, Gloria was like that for me.  First of all, I was inclined to listen to it more closely than not because my mother's name is Gloria, and she loves that her name comes up so frequently in choral and other church music.  But then there were a couple of moments that I just loved when we played them together as an orchestra.  And then the soprano and chorus joined our rehearsals.  I can't say much for the chorus or my impressions of it at that time (it was just a community chorus, after all, and it was a long time ago), but I do remember the soprano who sang the work had a voice like hot butter when she sang: I can't think of any other way to describe how painfully beautiful her voice was with this piece.  

The third (Domine Deus) and fifth (Domine Deus, Agnus Dei) movements are so hauntingly moving, and there's this little quiet, heart-wrenching section in the middle to the end of the sixth movement (Qui sedem ad dexteram patris) that makes me realize why I still play music after all of these years: it's just that good.  Those who know me well know that I'm not the most sensitive person ever to walk the planet, but music is my emotional kryptonite - I frequently get shivers and even tear up when the music is that good, and these sections totally haunt me.  

So, with my ever-growing fondness for Poulenc's work, I did what anyone else would do at that time: I bought a CD of it.  I really *did* want to listen to those few incredible notes over and over and over and over...so that's what happened.  I purchased a copy of a 1989 recording of Kathleen Battle singing with the Tanglewood Festival Chorus and the Boston Symphony Orchestra.  It was amazing - so much better than our little community orchestra and chorus.  The tempi, the dynamics, everything.  The more I listened to the CD - and trust me: I listened to it a lot - the more ingrained in my memory and the less I now remember about how our amateur group actually performed it.  

I listened to the entire CD so many times, I could have sung a lot of those Latin words in my sleep.  And with Gloria came Poulenc's Stabat Mater.  And at first, I didn't like it as much, probably because I wasn't as invested in it as I was in Gloria.  But over several years of listening, I eventually realized I chose to hit repeat more often on Stabat Mater than Gloria.  In the eighth movement, Fac ut ardeat, there is one extremely short section that just kills me.  It's only five or so notes and lasts no longer than ten seconds.  Couple the music with the words (English translation: "Make my heart be on fire in loving Christ, my God, so that I may please Him also"), and I'm in love with it, easily.  And then the last movement, the twelfth: the grandeur and stateliness of Quando corpus ("When my body dies, grant that the glory of paradise be given to my soul. Amen!") just puts a huge smile on my face.  

In light of all of this, I'd had to choose this recording as my favorite of all choral works.  I don't choose favorites lightly - I always have some qualifier.  For example, best book ever?  No: how about best WWII novel about spies in Bulgaria?  I can maybe choose that "favorite."  Same thing here:  choosing a favorite from within the recording?  Not so easy.  Stabat Mater is my favorite choral work in terms of musical composition (a couple of concepts I just can't quite theologically agree with, so my faith plays a role in this decision, too: who knew "favorites" could be such a complicated thing with so many factors to consider?)  Gloria is my favorite choral work in terms of lyrics.  (Although, like I said - I really have a hard time with the idea of favorites, and then there is still so much music yet to discover...)

So.  A few years ago, I must have misplaced or lent out my copy of it to some appreciative person.  Who knows at this point?  Every once in a while, I would go through my CD collection at home or in my car or the few I'd left at my parents' house, or ask my friends about it in hopes of finding it.  No luck.  But even without the actual hard copy recording, I could still hear entire movements in my head.  I don't know Latin, but phrases would go through my mind along with certain notes, and it made me happy.  Finally, that was not enough.  This week, I decided it was time and money well spent to buy a copy of the recording again.  (And how nice that the mp3 version costs less than the CD.)  I haven't stopped listening to it in the last few days, and don't plan to do so any time soon.  

Since that introduction to Poulenc's Gloria all those years ago, I've played a lot of other choral music with many different groups.  And through it all - from chamber ensembles to full orchestras, from senior citizen warblers to more youthful voices, from acoustical nightmare churches to intimate venues, from paid gigs to volunteer organizations - I keep coming back to the composer and piece(s) (see? even two paragraphs later, I can't choose my "favorite") that made me love choral music.

Here, the sixth movement from Stabat Matter:

xoxo, 

Minny LinnEy

Busk a Move

One month ago today, I got back from Europe.  When I get the travel bug, I wander the internet for new places to visit, look through my picture albums (which don't all exist yet...so let's just say I look through iPhoto where all of the pictures are waiting to be uploaded somewhere), and watch videos like this one (which I'm finally uploading so my mom can watch it on something other than my tiny camera screen!):

Busker outside Kunsthistorisches Museum
23 September 2012
Vienna, Austria

What is October?

Dear Internet, 

I've been far too busy to write to you this month, or really any of the last few months, but I'll try to throw some random thoughts at you to describe October.  At least my version of it.  Some snapshots, if you will.  

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Found out today it's completely possible to wander round with a sweater on upside-down & not even realize it. #noCollarOrButtons #oneofThose*  Anyway, the shoulders of the sweater felt a little funny, but it's one of those big ones that's sort of drape-y and there's really no neckline to it, just a bunch of fabric that kinda rolls or folds or just flops around aimlessly searching for some place on my body to get comfortable and rest itself, and you just can't really tell where the neckline or anything starts and stops.  I did finally figure it out, though, when I realized the tag was scratching me in an abnormal place.**

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I started marking up my December calendar over the last few days.  It may not even be Halloween yet, but it's getting ridiculous for December.*^  I'm booked so many days in a row, I don't even know what to think.  The good news is I likely won't be playing too many two-a-day (or three-a-day) concerts this year...instead, I'll just do one every single day for approximately ten days straight.  (Not quite, but pretty darn close.  I should probably get out my violin for the first time since June...right...about...now.)  And that's just the music.  I also have parties and galas and friends and family and church to fit in there.  And I might possibly have to show up at work at some point, as well.  

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It's fall, and I've regressed - I quit wearing socks again.  It's been too warm the last couple of weeks and I'm in denial that winter's coming.  

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Speaking of fall and regression, I've also gone back to sleeping with my window open at night.  And even though it was nice and toasty in the 60s today and won't get too cold tonight, even I think it's ridiculous that my neighbor turned on his air conditioner today.  (And it's still on, even as I write this.  I can definitely hear its hum through the open window.)  

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I got a flu shot today.  This means I'm now protected against pigs.  Two different types!  I'm not sure how I feel about that.  On the one hand, I am a firm believer that a very nice nurse just straight up mainlined bacon directly into my body through that swine shot, and I have to love that.***  But on the other hand, I'm thinking that maybe it's really a conspiracy to protect me from bacon, and I really don't like the sounds of that.  See, I read about this shortage a while ago, and now I'm all concerned that there's a conspiracy to get people to eat less bacon****, and now I've been immunized against pork.  This swine shot had better not have taken away my bacon cravings or made me allergic to it***.  Seriously, though.   The nurse did tell me that it would protect me against one strain of regular flu (regular? really? no flu is regular) and two strains of swine flu: the old one and the new one.  (Great, they just pumped me full of old stuff along with the new and improved MN State Fair scare stuff.)

*^*^*    <----- Yes, this is yet another footnote symbol.  And the footnote is another one about the flu and/or bacon.

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When someone told me last week that I *had* (no, that's not a footnote symbol...just an emphasis thing this time) to watch a candidate's youtube video, I was skeptical.  And then I watched it and realized it had nothing to do with his state Senate campaign, but it speaks well of him as a candidate.  I might have to buy the song on iTunes, and I don't even really listen to country music.  Watch & listen:

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Shockingly, I had not tested this year's candy corn crop until yesterday.  Part of this was because I had not been to a grocery store since long before I left for Europe.  Yep, you got that right: this little piggy didn't go to market from sometime in August until Friday last week, which would make it October 19th.  I estimate it was two months between shopping trips.*****  Which is probably why my grocery store and Target shopping trips were really more like major expeditions and cost so much money.  Anyway, please don't be shocked when I say I bought six pounds of candy corn.^^^^^  And at least I felt obligated to haul it through Target in a basket, so I got my weightlifting done at the same time.*^**^*  

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In other fascinating news*`````*, I have decided that Minnesota restaurateurs believe that we are a state of Great Britain.  I say this because I recently went to a place called Butcher & the Boar*^"""^* and will soon go to a place called Porter & Frye.  Really?  Ye olde english is making a comeback in the New World, colour me thusly, kind sire.  Or some such nonsense.  And isn't "boar" just a fancy name for "pig"?**********  But I digress.  Food = good.  Pub-ly names = amusing, but not exactly Minnesota, yeah-sure-ya-betcha.  

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Well, Internet, that is all for now.  I could regale you with many more trivial tales, but I shan't use them all up in one fell swoop.  

xoxo,

Minny LinnEy

*Yes, this is my tweet from earlier tonight, Internet.  I don't have time to reinvent the wheel, for goodness' sake.

**Hey, hey now: not that abnormal.  Get your mind out of a weird place. 

*^And that's not even counting the ridiculousness that is Every Store Has Christmas Decorations Up In October.  Chaos.  

***Oh, really?  Swine flu?!  So you're saying they didn't mainline bacon into my veins?  Sad.  Not what I signed up for.  I really was hoping those nice people would be billing my insr company with some cool code like "Bacon Injection," but I suppose they had to find some way to make it boring.  

****Another conspiracy besides the supposed Health Concerns.  pshaw.  It's the other white meat.  The internet and TV and radio and newspapers all have told me so.  

*^*^*Also: who else wants to type the word as "flue" instead of "flu"?  Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller?  Bueller?  

*****Why bother with grocery stores when you're mainlining bacon?  Oh, that's right: that didn't happen until today.  Ne'er mind.  

^^^^^It was on sale.  Although, who am I kidding?  I probably would have bought six pounds of it even if it hadn't been on sale.  But at least I am sharing it with people at work.  Well, I let a few people each have a handful, so that counts as sharing, right?  

*^**^*Please don't judge my puny upper body strength.  If you do judge, next time I might just buy even more candy corn to build up my weight training.  

*`````*And you must find this fascinating because you've made it this far, footnotes and all.
*^"""^*Great place: order the Fulton-battered French fries if you go, and do try the pork chop with sour cherries.  You will be surprised to learn, Internet, that I actually wanted the pork chop not because of its pig-ness, but because of the sour cherries.  I'm obsessed with them.  Almost as much as I'm obsessed with bacon.  Do not order dessert at Butcher & the Boar: not worth it.  

**********Really?  It's not?  No, seriously.  Read this.  The wording is kind of hilariously awesome.  The Internet said so.

There is something for everything.

I don't even know what to say: a British company keeps charts for top funeral songs.  Who knew?  Here is the company's press release.  It is not surprising that hymns are down (sadly), and it's not surprising that pop music is now being played at funerals.  

What is surprising are some of the choices, namely Adele's Someone Like You.  Have the people who've chosen these songs to be played at a funeral ever actually heard or read the lyrics?  I suppose people are focused on the lines, "I wish nothing but the best for you, too, Don't forget me, I beg," and even the stanza, "You know how the time flies, Only yesterday was the time of our lives, We were born and raised in a summer haze, Bound by the surprise of our glory days."  But surely they must not be focused so much on the fact that it's a song about someone who's moved on to another woman.  "I heard that your dreams came true" doesn't seem like the nicest sentiment at a funeral - um, glad your dream of dying happened?  Not sure what to say to that one.  

Also, why would you have TV theme music played at your funeral?  That is also surprising.  Oh, I suppose Last of the Summer Wine (it is Britain, after all) and something from Six Feet Under tickles the fancy, and it's even kind of fitting to have the Muppets singing "It's time to face the music..."  But.  Really?  

For more, uh, enjoyment? check out the company's chart webpage, and pay particular attention to the section on "Quirky Choices - a selection" for good measure.  

Where I went: Gone Fishin'

I wish I was back here:

Outside St. István's Cathedral, Budapest, Hungary

Or here...

Heroes' Square, Budapest

Or here...

At Fishermen's Bastion in Buda, Looking at Parliament in Pest

 Or here...

Charle's Bridge, Prague

 Or here (even if I had to bike there again)...

Somewhere in the Czech Republic

 Or here...

Český Krumlov, Czech Republic

 Definitely here...

Melk Abbey, Austria

 Or here (even if I had to hike up there again)...

Dürnstein, Austria

 Or here...

Mozart Statue, Vienna, Austria

Instead, I've been feeling completely run down since I got back on Tuesday night.  I really don't like feeling under the weather, but I suppose it was bound to catch up with me after the pace this summer and early fall have brought me.

xoxo,
Minny LinnEy

Absence makes the heart grow fonder? (The Great MN Get-Together)

Internet, 

I've woefully neglected you in this space for the last month.  I've started writing several posts, only to get through one sentence and then be interrupted or stumped as to where to start...And as we all know, I'd rather be living life than writing about wanting one.  Yes?  Yes.  

So, let's talk about something that gets people together: the great Minnesota get-together.  (Also known as the Minnesota State Fair, running through Labor Day.)  

Let me tell you, Internet, I really do believe this is the great Minnesota get-together.  I talked to more random people today about all sorts of topics, and it's this weird sort of comaraderie that you don't get anywhere else.  It's great fun and rather entertaining.  And on top of that, every year (with last year as an exception when I ran into NO ONE I know) I run into everyone I've ever met in my life.  This year I ran into people I grew up with, people I saw last week, people I work with, people I haven't seen in years, people from pretty much every aspect of my life.  It was kind of ridiculous, but very fun.  

Anyhoo, this year was probably a record for amount of time spent there: nearly 12 hours.  It doesn't sound so ridiculous when you realize we took in many different kinds of food and entertainment, and then walked everywhere in between.  I'm tired and needed a shower afterwards (whether from the sunscreen, the dirt, or the grease is anyone's guess), but it was worth it.  Here's a brief snapshot (with snapshots!) of my day.  

A Small Photographic Selection of Fair Foods Sampled*

(In other words, I gave up trying to take pictures of food because I was too busy eating it.)

9am: We're still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Pipin' Hot Fresh Cheese Curds: The breakfast of champions (part of this complete breakfast when eaten with cinnamon roll, above).

Bacon Ice Cream: It is as fantastic as you'd think.  (Or if you don't think bacon is  delicious, then let's say as fantastic as I'd think.  And I think it's great.  Maple ice cream, crispy bacon.  Delish.  Best new food at the fair this year.)

*Not pictured: fried pickles, peach fruit smoothie, strawberry-rhubarb malt, pronto pup, spaghetti on a stick, Sweet Martha's cookies (I must've eaten a dozen...warm, gooey, straight-outta-the-oven chocolate chip cookies), and much more.

Also, sadly: for the first time in probably decades, I left the fair without eating or purchasing any cotton candy.  A travesty, but since I'd just eaten a dozen cookies and a malt, and had walked around for more hours than I could even remember at that point, I was too tired to find it even in a to-go bag.  The end of an era.

Animals

Aw, see?  Aren't they cute when they're just born?  But then they grow into this:

Let's move back to cute little baby animals, shall we?  Aw, look at the goat.

These little guys were hiding from all of the kids (the other kind - the human kids) with the sticky hands who wanted to pet them.  (Their brethren also hid beneath a very small playskool-sized plastic picnic bench.  Maybe they just like plastic.)

I'd say that the only time of year I care about watching horses and horse judging is during the state fair, but that's just not true this year: I will confess to having watched some horses compete during the Olympics.

The winner of some category I didn't understand.  But it's a good thing I'm an expert eavesdropper, as the lady sitting in front of us was very informative.  

 Art

I saw some art.  OK, a lot of it.  This was in the seniors center.  I've never been in there before, but today we went to a) listen to an old-time radio production, and b) plan for our future.

c)  If anyone cares, I think my dad should start entering his woodwork objets d'art in the fair.  He'd blow away the competition.

"Piano Man"
Combining art and music (he's made out of old piano parts...aren't those hammers cool?) in the fine arts building.

Entertainment 

We stopped and watched so many entertaining things: this accordion band, an old-time radio show production in the seniors center, a marionette show for small children in the kids area (we do not discriminate based on age, obviously), Chinese dancers, the horse show, trampoliners.  You name it, I'm pretty sure we saw it.  

All in all, Internet, it was a great day.  And now I'm exhausted, so it's off to bed for me.  G'night and g'bye until next year (the fair...I hope to blog again before 2013)!  

The Olympics Are Here!

And with the Olympics, Internet, come great stories like this one: the other great race of the 1936 games that no one ever hears about.  And it's stories like this one that keep a girl like me watching.  You never know what can happen!

Also exciting to me is to watch "hometown" people compete (like this one who isn't exactly hometown, but close enough!), and friends I've met along the way (like this one, who I met and raced at a regatta a couple of years ago).  Best wishes to them as they row.

For the next couple of weeks, you'll know where to find me!  I'll be watching, following, and cheering all sorts of sporting athletes.  I love the Olympics!

xoxo,
Minny LinnEy

Veni, vidi, ...um, what's the Latin word for "I vomited"?

Hello, Duluth Internet!  

This weekend I went up nort' to race.  

***Disclaimer: this report is kind of gross if you don't like vomit and such.  Do not continue reading if you dislike that sort of thing.***

...

Since you're still reading, Internet, I will consider you to have asked for it.  

...

So.  This weekend we all went up to Duluth to race some boats.  I was expecting 70s and rain for weather.  Instead, we got 90s, humidity, and sun.  Oh, meteorologists.  And seriously, oh, the baking sun.  I do not like humidity & heat, much less racing in those sauna-like conditions.  But out we went.  

Looks can be deceiving: doesn't it look pleasant?  This was the 4+ race my teammates did without me because I was going to race the 1x.  Silly me.  Or maybe smart them.  

First up for me: the single (or 1x, if you want to learn the lingo before the 'lympics).  This is me in the 1x before the race:

I am still all smiley here and have no idea that in a few short moments I will be vomiting during my race...well, maybe I had a little bit of premonition: it was hot, and I was nervous.

You might think that it would not be possible to be too hot and yet not warmed up at the same time, but trust me, Internet, it is most definitely possible.  Because of a variety of factors, such as the burning-hot heat, not being warmed up, nerves, over-tiredness, and possibly drinking too much coffee too close to a race, I have now cemented my reputation as a single's puker, because I have only ever thrown up whilst exercising three times in my life, and all of them involved rowing a 1x (or this one time, an erg), all of them involved humidity and heat, and all of them involved being overtired.  Puke-ahontas.  That's what I am.  (Or since it haunts me, maybe it's Puke-a-haunt-us?  Whatevs.)  

So let's just say the first 500 meters of that 2,000 meter race were not all that fun.  But I did not stop rowing, not ever, no matter what, not during or after the incident.  That's also the trademark of the Pukahontas.  Don't stop.  I mean, I had to get back somehow, right?  And I wanted to get there fast.  It's not like I was going to find some cool relief on the water, so I might as well get off the water as soon as possible.  So after that little distraction, I started to feel much better, and I found a nice rhythm and carried on.  Unfortunately, I'd already lost a lot of ground (er, water), so I only finished fifth out of seven, but I was fine with that.  (Even if I hadn't thrown up, I'm pretty sure that's where I would've finished anyway, just not with so much open water between me and places 1 through 4.)  Also, it was so freaking hot, that the coffee vomit I'd tossed onto my racing jersey had dried by about 1500 meters, I kid you not.  And then when I got off the water, my teammates and coach wanted to know if a bird had pooped on me.  Um, no.  

Final meters of the race.  I look tired and slouchy even in the first race of the day.  I then proceeded to do this three. more. times.  (The racing, not the puking.)  

So after I got off the water and washed my racing jersey out with a hose that sprayed delightfully cool water, and then put the wet jersey back on, I felt much better.  Next up: the 8+.  That actually went quite well, all things considered.  I did not toss any more cookies (or any other food stuffs or liquid, for that matter) for the rest of the day.  I'm proud of the girls, and we came in second in that race.  It's not quite where we want to be, but we were okay with our progress and will work hard to get better before our championship regatta next month.  

After that, I was toast.  Literally baking, my legs felt like marshmallows.  You go out on the water, and with no breeze, you just bake to death.  Then you race a 2k and pray you make it to the end, and then you just can't wait to get off the water and find a tree to die under.  Then you sit in a tree-shaded camp chair in a stupor for a li'l while, and pray that you will just be put out of your misery.  You wonder how you're going to do that again two more times.  

So.  What did I do then, you ask?  I drank about a gallon of gatorade, another gallon of water, and then ate a bit.  And then of course I went out in a 4x and did another 2K.  The third one was awful.  I had marshmallow legs that didn't like me, and that was very unhelpful in trying to get a boat to move down the course faster.  My apologies to the girls, let's move on.  

Next up: the 2x.  My doubles partner and I were basically done for the day and decided to kinda-sorta mail it in.  We were both tired and cranky (at least I was cranky), even though her mom was especially kind and brought more water & drinks for the team, and that was awesome.  (But then her mom also wouldn't let me eat any cookies before the last race, either, even though I hadn't thrown up in, like, six hours at that point.)  

We were only moving slightly less slowly in this picture than in our 2x race.  After consuming so much liquid throughout the day, I'm pretty sure we ran to the bathroom faster than we raced that 2x.

The wind had shifted between our third and fourth races, so thankfully God had given us a tail wind and was pushing our sorry bodies down the course.  This was very good since we were both tired and really didn't want to work that hard.  We weren't doing that great in the first 1,000 meters, but then we settled in at a really low, steady state rating (kind of out for a nice little paddle...with a bit of pressure), and somehow our legs made a miraculous comeback, and astonishingly we took second.  Since we lost to a crew that had a college girl who rows for a big east coast school, we were quite happy with second.  

After that, we all went and jumped in Lake Superior, which was blissfully cool for about 20 seconds, and then seemed rather warm.  Even so, my legs felt much less marshmallow-y after that, for which I am still grateful more than a day later.  Our only regret is that we didn't jump in the lake between each race!  Duh.  

And then the eating commenced.  As you know, Internet, I love to eat.  It makes me sad to be unable to eat (or worse, have what I've eaten decide not to settle in and stay a while).  So dinner was a delight, followed shortly by a DQ strawberry blizzard, and a late-night snack when I finally got home.  

All in all, it was fun now that I'm no longer sweating to death and being beaten into submission by the sun and humidity.  I have some weird spots on my left leg, either the result of poorly applied spray sunscreen, or bug bites.  I am sore in some weird places.  But other than that, good times.  (Air conditioning today is like brain washing: so soon, I am quickly forgetting the agony.)  

I will leave you with one of my favorite pictures of the weekend, taken by my teammate Alisa: the men's 8+ won, so they got to throw their coxswain in the lake in celebration.  (I'm almost glad to have not won.  I'm not sure if we would have had the energy to haul our coxswain to the water.)  To the non-rower, it looks like she's planking.  To the rower, you can clearly see the "up and overhead" call (as if she's a boat they're about to put in the water).  

xoxo, 

Minny "Pukahontas" LinnEy