Volleyball will steal your soul. Haven't had much time for the whole keeping people updated on my life since...October something or other. Comes from working 90+ hours a week with two jobs and no days off.
Come April hopefully I will be back on the airwaves much more regularly.
buck
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Prayer
Disclaimer: Religion is about to be discussed.
Whether you believe in God, a god, or gods, or none of the above you know what I'm about to say is going to strike true. Maybe not all of it, but something - even a piece of minutia - will strike you as something you remember.
Do you know what its like to have a prayer answered? Its like having your first kiss with you first love. Having your mother kiss a scraped knee after a fall, then running out trying to find out whos "it". Hearing someone outside the family for the first time say "I love you". It is an adrenaline rush, finding 20 bucks in a pair of jeans you put away last winter and forgot about. It is a feeling that knocks you down even when you're laying down. Every single pure bliss emotion you can think of...It's that feeling. And truth be told they don't come every day. Which is both a shame and a good thing. The dichotomy of which makes me laugh. If answered prayers came everyday belief would be full of addicts looking for that rush. Which would flood congregations, synagagues, mosques, cathedrals, basements with believers. Which is a good question for debate I think.
Let me back up. Two nights ago I spent an hour car ride and another hour after that talking to God. Both as a human and as an equal. I got the woman I've been seeing ticked off because of the conversation I was having that wasn't with her. The conversation ranged from the politic to the angry to the pleading to the begging back to the adoration that a bliever owes to their God.
Lately - past four years, and before - my faith/belief has been tried daily. I am not a perfect person, and thank God for that. You know what happened to the last one? Romans didn't have Crazy Glue or Velcro. I am proud to be fallible. Not happy about it, but I am proud of it. How else are we to learn from our mistakes and prove the pundits and naysayers wrong? There is no other way to live - in my mind- other than to own your mistakes and learn from and then not repeat them!
A very wise man once told me a long time ago that the way to become wise is to challenge oneself to learn something new everyday. This is a phrase everyone in every culture has heard. I would like to add an ammendment to it however. Add it not only to your knowledge but use it and share it!
I am not a trained educator - unless you cound 18 years surrounded by educators, and in an education field as a job a trained educator - however I am a coach, I interact with the public, I write here... How can I in good conscience say that I am not an educator? Every single person is! Everyone we meet we can impart a portion of knowldege on.
Example: A friend and I were having a debate last week; which has more sway over the populace: culture or religion? It was a free exchange of ideas, and while our views tend to be similar, there are still huge differences, and We can argue either side when pressed. His main argument stemmed from the idea that the chicken came before the egg. Which is what the debate boiled down to in the end anyway. But the question still stands and can be argued by anthropologists around the world. Can a culture be defined as such with out a belief system? If so, does that belief system then in turn make the culture better or influence in it any other way?
What about the Catholic Church? They have had their collective hand in culture for about a millennium. What about Hinduism or Islam or Judaism which are as old or older than most Christian and Judeo-Christian belief structures.
It is a debate that is centuries old and will continue with most subsets that either A. care B. smoke pot C. have more education D. pontificate.
Through my conversation both in the truck and then on the porch I didn't gain much insight. At least not until I came in that night, made a drink and started looking for a book to read while enjoying my beverage on the rocks. Looting through my couple dozen of boxes of books I came across the book I was searching for along with another book. I was confused why I sorted my confirmation bible into a book of historical and classical fiction literature.
Before I went back downstairs to the living room I opened up the Bible and read two of the three passages I have bookmarked. "Every word of God is flawless; He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him."
"But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus."
Reading those two passages answered quite a bit of what my conversation entailed and revolved around. They helped guide me to a clarity of mind and purpose that I haven't felt for a long time. Boiled down...they answered my prayer.
Let me tell ya, it feels great.
Buck
Whether you believe in God, a god, or gods, or none of the above you know what I'm about to say is going to strike true. Maybe not all of it, but something - even a piece of minutia - will strike you as something you remember.
Do you know what its like to have a prayer answered? Its like having your first kiss with you first love. Having your mother kiss a scraped knee after a fall, then running out trying to find out whos "it". Hearing someone outside the family for the first time say "I love you". It is an adrenaline rush, finding 20 bucks in a pair of jeans you put away last winter and forgot about. It is a feeling that knocks you down even when you're laying down. Every single pure bliss emotion you can think of...It's that feeling. And truth be told they don't come every day. Which is both a shame and a good thing. The dichotomy of which makes me laugh. If answered prayers came everyday belief would be full of addicts looking for that rush. Which would flood congregations, synagagues, mosques, cathedrals, basements with believers. Which is a good question for debate I think.
Let me back up. Two nights ago I spent an hour car ride and another hour after that talking to God. Both as a human and as an equal. I got the woman I've been seeing ticked off because of the conversation I was having that wasn't with her. The conversation ranged from the politic to the angry to the pleading to the begging back to the adoration that a bliever owes to their God.
Lately - past four years, and before - my faith/belief has been tried daily. I am not a perfect person, and thank God for that. You know what happened to the last one? Romans didn't have Crazy Glue or Velcro. I am proud to be fallible. Not happy about it, but I am proud of it. How else are we to learn from our mistakes and prove the pundits and naysayers wrong? There is no other way to live - in my mind- other than to own your mistakes and learn from and then not repeat them!
A very wise man once told me a long time ago that the way to become wise is to challenge oneself to learn something new everyday. This is a phrase everyone in every culture has heard. I would like to add an ammendment to it however. Add it not only to your knowledge but use it and share it!
I am not a trained educator - unless you cound 18 years surrounded by educators, and in an education field as a job a trained educator - however I am a coach, I interact with the public, I write here... How can I in good conscience say that I am not an educator? Every single person is! Everyone we meet we can impart a portion of knowldege on.
Example: A friend and I were having a debate last week; which has more sway over the populace: culture or religion? It was a free exchange of ideas, and while our views tend to be similar, there are still huge differences, and We can argue either side when pressed. His main argument stemmed from the idea that the chicken came before the egg. Which is what the debate boiled down to in the end anyway. But the question still stands and can be argued by anthropologists around the world. Can a culture be defined as such with out a belief system? If so, does that belief system then in turn make the culture better or influence in it any other way?
What about the Catholic Church? They have had their collective hand in culture for about a millennium. What about Hinduism or Islam or Judaism which are as old or older than most Christian and Judeo-Christian belief structures.
It is a debate that is centuries old and will continue with most subsets that either A. care B. smoke pot C. have more education D. pontificate.
Through my conversation both in the truck and then on the porch I didn't gain much insight. At least not until I came in that night, made a drink and started looking for a book to read while enjoying my beverage on the rocks. Looting through my couple dozen of boxes of books I came across the book I was searching for along with another book. I was confused why I sorted my confirmation bible into a book of historical and classical fiction literature.
Before I went back downstairs to the living room I opened up the Bible and read two of the three passages I have bookmarked. "Every word of God is flawless; He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him."
"But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus."
Reading those two passages answered quite a bit of what my conversation entailed and revolved around. They helped guide me to a clarity of mind and purpose that I haven't felt for a long time. Boiled down...they answered my prayer.
Let me tell ya, it feels great.
Buck
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Ouch
The past two weekends have been filled with stress. Not gonna lie.
We started up some clinics at the club working primarily on skill fade and getting rid of horrible habits whilst "instill[ing] the foundation for future performance excellence". Very tall order considering we had four hours and 50 plus girls with four coaches. Oh, and we were dealing with 12, 13, and 14 year old girls.
Most of the faces I recognized with a bunch of new girls which is promising for them and their teams. We drew a crowd from Johnston, Urbandale, Ankeny, Waukee, Clive, and a couple of girls from Nebraska (at least that's what their shirts said). The first half hour to forty five minutes consisted of only block drills which are mind numbingly boring. Not only for the coaches, but also for the players.
- A block drill is something that everybody knows. You have a partner. The partner tosses you the ball. You pass the ball back to your partner.... Drills of that nature.
However, block drills do have their place in the scheme of things. Foundations, you have to start from foundations. Ex. "This is a passing platform. When you are in the ready position your hands meet, elbows are locked, thumbs are pointing down. When I say go, the passer will start in the ready position, your partner will overhand toss a ball to you. You will forearm pass the ball to the target who will bounce a ball to the tosser. Do 8 then switch. Tosser becomes passer passer becomes target target becomes tosser. Spread out throughout the gym, but you cannot toss over a net. Go." From that foundation you can start branching out to overhead passes, out of core passing, downball defense, short defense...all sorts of things. This does not change however that you have downtime, you have players not getting reps, and the players - who have an attention span worse than a puppy at a circus- get bored.
Block drills do have a huge point in their favor from the coach's perspective. Coaches can correct, modify, encourage, and focus on the skill set being practiced. The draw back is that most coaches, - myself, one of my mentors in the club, my former coaches from any sport- will stop the player to do any of the above. Worst thing possible is taking the player out of the drill. It slows the drill down, they lose focus which was hard to get in the first place, the other players involved in the drill become even more bored, it singles the player out to the other players...the list can go on. If coaches are attempting to modify mid drill nothing will be accomplished, but if they don't incorrect habits form. It is a very very thin line to walk.
After we got through passing and attacking block drills we started going to random drills.
- Random drills are not improvised drills, instead they are spontaneous drills. Game-like drills. Forcing the players to read the situation, know what they are supposed to do, and above all adapt. C says that any sport is a micro-cosym of life. If you mess up you have less than three seconds to put it behind you and get your head back in the game. Maybe that's why successfully athletes have good coping skills...I like to think so. Make the drills life-like. Keep score, have a player enter a ball into play over the net, transition, rotate, switch, cover...any of those brought into a drill will make it a quicker drill which means more reps for the players, they bring in conditioning, reading, court awareness...all sorts of goodies.
There is a huge drawback to random drills. At least from my perspective which is still in it's infancy: Skill loss. As players tire from a long practice or the fact that they're young, they lose focus. With that loss of focus brings about a whole new problem. All that time that you spent doing the block drills was wasted. Those incorrect techniques come slamming back into the player's mind. From there it is a direct line to the muscles which don't care if the ball wasn't passed properly. The ball was passed.
- Let me make a point here. Muscles do NOT have brain cells. Therefore muscles canNOT have muscle memory. Impossible. Your brain fries neural networks, a certain way of firing synapses and nerves to make your muscles move. Those become ingrained with time and repetition. Your brain has the ability for motor-memory. Your muscles do not.
Another drawback to random drills is that the coach has to have a very good eye. What I mean by that is that the coach needs to know the skills forwards backwards sideways and if possible barrel-rolled. That way you can spot the discrepancy. And know all the player's names. At the clinics, during block drills I could come up with the name quick enough. During random drills I started shouting shirt colors. K and I were working on movement on the court - switching out if you messed up, or if you were standing still not doing anything - with the 12 and 13 year olds (the majority of whom he had in club or on his school team so he had the names down cold.) C came in hearing me bark out shirt colors and K translating. I thought he was gonna die laughing so hard.
Anyway. My focus for the upcoming season is tricky. With two teams I have to have different goals. The 13's I'm going to try to focus on staying outside my comfort zone, or make a new comfort zone, by using random drills after dynamic warm ups. With the 15's my personal goal is to bring fun, and a love of the game and instill that in the girls. Going into sophomore year the competition for spots gets tougher and if they don't have fun and love the sport they won't try as hard to get a spot. The secondary goal with both teams is to bring warm-up games to the forefront. A team gets the court for themselves for 2-5 minutes - depending on the tournament and what match- Why do we as volleyball coaches think that time must be spent on hitting lines? That isn't game-like; when does a setter get a perfect pass for a perfect set to a hitter standing around waiting. Nobody warms up in that situation. Warm-ups are to prepare the players for the game ahead; physically and mentally. Why not use a game for that? Short-court, ladders, north-south, fish on, back attack, four on four, kill the setter... There are options here!
I'm working on a paper for the club. Not because it was assigned but because I feel that there are issues for new coaches that need to be addressed. Maybe a glossary and an atlas would be better suited but I don't draw well. The benefit our club has over some others is that we utilize current college players. They bring a great understanding to the game, but most have never coached before. Most other clubs in the area have coaches that are very far removed from the sport other than playing sand court in the summer as a way to relive the glory days. I'm not saying one is right and the other wrong, but...with the youth of our coaching staff comes a...I don't actually know the proper word for it. A timidness I suppose. Sure we know drills, we know the sport inside and out. But we haven't developed the eye for knowing what all 12 people are doing in that 900 square feet all at the same time. I don't think that is something that can be taught or learned or cultivated. I also don't think that you're either born with that ability or you aren't. I lean more towards the side that says young coaches need to immerse themselves even more fully into the sport. Watch tape, go to conferences, go to seminars, pick other coach's brains, talk to your players, talk to other players from other teams, read, but most of all...practice which equates to try. The worst that can happen is you fail. So what?
You can't win them all.
-Buck
We started up some clinics at the club working primarily on skill fade and getting rid of horrible habits whilst "instill[ing] the foundation for future performance excellence". Very tall order considering we had four hours and 50 plus girls with four coaches. Oh, and we were dealing with 12, 13, and 14 year old girls.
Most of the faces I recognized with a bunch of new girls which is promising for them and their teams. We drew a crowd from Johnston, Urbandale, Ankeny, Waukee, Clive, and a couple of girls from Nebraska (at least that's what their shirts said). The first half hour to forty five minutes consisted of only block drills which are mind numbingly boring. Not only for the coaches, but also for the players.
- A block drill is something that everybody knows. You have a partner. The partner tosses you the ball. You pass the ball back to your partner.... Drills of that nature.
However, block drills do have their place in the scheme of things. Foundations, you have to start from foundations. Ex. "This is a passing platform. When you are in the ready position your hands meet, elbows are locked, thumbs are pointing down. When I say go, the passer will start in the ready position, your partner will overhand toss a ball to you. You will forearm pass the ball to the target who will bounce a ball to the tosser. Do 8 then switch. Tosser becomes passer passer becomes target target becomes tosser. Spread out throughout the gym, but you cannot toss over a net. Go." From that foundation you can start branching out to overhead passes, out of core passing, downball defense, short defense...all sorts of things. This does not change however that you have downtime, you have players not getting reps, and the players - who have an attention span worse than a puppy at a circus- get bored.
Block drills do have a huge point in their favor from the coach's perspective. Coaches can correct, modify, encourage, and focus on the skill set being practiced. The draw back is that most coaches, - myself, one of my mentors in the club, my former coaches from any sport- will stop the player to do any of the above. Worst thing possible is taking the player out of the drill. It slows the drill down, they lose focus which was hard to get in the first place, the other players involved in the drill become even more bored, it singles the player out to the other players...the list can go on. If coaches are attempting to modify mid drill nothing will be accomplished, but if they don't incorrect habits form. It is a very very thin line to walk.
After we got through passing and attacking block drills we started going to random drills.
- Random drills are not improvised drills, instead they are spontaneous drills. Game-like drills. Forcing the players to read the situation, know what they are supposed to do, and above all adapt. C says that any sport is a micro-cosym of life. If you mess up you have less than three seconds to put it behind you and get your head back in the game. Maybe that's why successfully athletes have good coping skills...I like to think so. Make the drills life-like. Keep score, have a player enter a ball into play over the net, transition, rotate, switch, cover...any of those brought into a drill will make it a quicker drill which means more reps for the players, they bring in conditioning, reading, court awareness...all sorts of goodies.
There is a huge drawback to random drills. At least from my perspective which is still in it's infancy: Skill loss. As players tire from a long practice or the fact that they're young, they lose focus. With that loss of focus brings about a whole new problem. All that time that you spent doing the block drills was wasted. Those incorrect techniques come slamming back into the player's mind. From there it is a direct line to the muscles which don't care if the ball wasn't passed properly. The ball was passed.
- Let me make a point here. Muscles do NOT have brain cells. Therefore muscles canNOT have muscle memory. Impossible. Your brain fries neural networks, a certain way of firing synapses and nerves to make your muscles move. Those become ingrained with time and repetition. Your brain has the ability for motor-memory. Your muscles do not.
Another drawback to random drills is that the coach has to have a very good eye. What I mean by that is that the coach needs to know the skills forwards backwards sideways and if possible barrel-rolled. That way you can spot the discrepancy. And know all the player's names. At the clinics, during block drills I could come up with the name quick enough. During random drills I started shouting shirt colors. K and I were working on movement on the court - switching out if you messed up, or if you were standing still not doing anything - with the 12 and 13 year olds (the majority of whom he had in club or on his school team so he had the names down cold.) C came in hearing me bark out shirt colors and K translating. I thought he was gonna die laughing so hard.
Anyway. My focus for the upcoming season is tricky. With two teams I have to have different goals. The 13's I'm going to try to focus on staying outside my comfort zone, or make a new comfort zone, by using random drills after dynamic warm ups. With the 15's my personal goal is to bring fun, and a love of the game and instill that in the girls. Going into sophomore year the competition for spots gets tougher and if they don't have fun and love the sport they won't try as hard to get a spot. The secondary goal with both teams is to bring warm-up games to the forefront. A team gets the court for themselves for 2-5 minutes - depending on the tournament and what match- Why do we as volleyball coaches think that time must be spent on hitting lines? That isn't game-like; when does a setter get a perfect pass for a perfect set to a hitter standing around waiting. Nobody warms up in that situation. Warm-ups are to prepare the players for the game ahead; physically and mentally. Why not use a game for that? Short-court, ladders, north-south, fish on, back attack, four on four, kill the setter... There are options here!
I'm working on a paper for the club. Not because it was assigned but because I feel that there are issues for new coaches that need to be addressed. Maybe a glossary and an atlas would be better suited but I don't draw well. The benefit our club has over some others is that we utilize current college players. They bring a great understanding to the game, but most have never coached before. Most other clubs in the area have coaches that are very far removed from the sport other than playing sand court in the summer as a way to relive the glory days. I'm not saying one is right and the other wrong, but...with the youth of our coaching staff comes a...I don't actually know the proper word for it. A timidness I suppose. Sure we know drills, we know the sport inside and out. But we haven't developed the eye for knowing what all 12 people are doing in that 900 square feet all at the same time. I don't think that is something that can be taught or learned or cultivated. I also don't think that you're either born with that ability or you aren't. I lean more towards the side that says young coaches need to immerse themselves even more fully into the sport. Watch tape, go to conferences, go to seminars, pick other coach's brains, talk to your players, talk to other players from other teams, read, but most of all...practice which equates to try. The worst that can happen is you fail. So what?
You can't win them all.
-Buck
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Whirlwind
So this past month has been what one might call...crazy. Some really great things happened, some really not so great things happened. Such is life eh?
First and foremost, congrats must go out to my sister and new brother-in-law on their marriage. I could not be happier for them, and hopefully they will always be happy.
I'm glad that they had their wedding out in Iowa because the way my work schedule shook out I would have been hard pressed to get anywhere else just having the wedding day off. It was great seeing family and friends again, especially when everyone was so obviously happy and having a good time.
P.S. The food? Amazing. The maid of honor and I had a fun little aside about the proper way to eat mashed taters, and my dislike for cooked carrots.
I feel bad that I missed portions of the reception, and I feel bad for the way I presented my gift to the couple. But, from my stand point, I didn't really have a whole lot of options.
Other than the wedding and festivities, things have been plodding along as they seem to always do. We showcased an olde time wedding at work last weekend which went over very well, except for the part where I was the only person out of 12 actually making sure the farm was running. I understand that we're "educators", but this "educator" also had to pick up a lot of slack to make sure that the event got pulled off without a hitch. Or having oxen running around like two year olds.
In about a month I traverse back to the land of Illinois to refferree a volleyball tourney. Something that I've been doing for years it seems now. It is always a good time and every year I know fewer and fewer people there. Which is both fun, but also a bit intimidating. Yes, I know the sport, yes, I know the rules. But, the sport has changed, and it seems parents of the LSA have not. Most don't like my philosophy of reffing which is, "They're kids. Let 'em play." It will be the first tournament of the year and coaches are more worried about setting up line ups and figuring things out that work for their team and against certain opponents. Let them play.
Real coaching starts tomorrow. I am both excited about this, but also a bit on edge. 'S not that I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm a bit more familiar with the people I'm working with and for. But, it is a new year, a new group of kids, new parents. And that right there is the kicker. I had my parents trained last year. Now I have to break in not one new group of parents. I have to break in two. One group I'm not worried about. The other team where I am a co-coach for the only reason that the parents are horrible...I'm not really looking forward to that.
There is a laundry list of things to be in a huff about but nothing is going to change, and this is assuradly not the forum for it. Therefore, we'll let it slide.
That's about all I've got.
Buck
First and foremost, congrats must go out to my sister and new brother-in-law on their marriage. I could not be happier for them, and hopefully they will always be happy.
I'm glad that they had their wedding out in Iowa because the way my work schedule shook out I would have been hard pressed to get anywhere else just having the wedding day off. It was great seeing family and friends again, especially when everyone was so obviously happy and having a good time.
P.S. The food? Amazing. The maid of honor and I had a fun little aside about the proper way to eat mashed taters, and my dislike for cooked carrots.
I feel bad that I missed portions of the reception, and I feel bad for the way I presented my gift to the couple. But, from my stand point, I didn't really have a whole lot of options.
Other than the wedding and festivities, things have been plodding along as they seem to always do. We showcased an olde time wedding at work last weekend which went over very well, except for the part where I was the only person out of 12 actually making sure the farm was running. I understand that we're "educators", but this "educator" also had to pick up a lot of slack to make sure that the event got pulled off without a hitch. Or having oxen running around like two year olds.
In about a month I traverse back to the land of Illinois to refferree a volleyball tourney. Something that I've been doing for years it seems now. It is always a good time and every year I know fewer and fewer people there. Which is both fun, but also a bit intimidating. Yes, I know the sport, yes, I know the rules. But, the sport has changed, and it seems parents of the LSA have not. Most don't like my philosophy of reffing which is, "They're kids. Let 'em play." It will be the first tournament of the year and coaches are more worried about setting up line ups and figuring things out that work for their team and against certain opponents. Let them play.
Real coaching starts tomorrow. I am both excited about this, but also a bit on edge. 'S not that I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm a bit more familiar with the people I'm working with and for. But, it is a new year, a new group of kids, new parents. And that right there is the kicker. I had my parents trained last year. Now I have to break in not one new group of parents. I have to break in two. One group I'm not worried about. The other team where I am a co-coach for the only reason that the parents are horrible...I'm not really looking forward to that.
There is a laundry list of things to be in a huff about but nothing is going to change, and this is assuradly not the forum for it. Therefore, we'll let it slide.
That's about all I've got.
Buck
Friday, July 16, 2010
Piano legends.
I have no idea how many of you have heard of Marc Andre Hamelin. If you haven't, you need to listen to him. Looking through the music that I have been given to browse through for my sister's wedding I keep coming back to Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. My piano teacher gave me the music - the actual for piano arranged by Franz Liszt music- as a gag end of the 14 or so odd years of learning from him gift. Over the last five years I keep looking at it, and thinking: If I were really good I could play this.
A little background on the piece. If I remember what I learned in my beginning Piano by Thompson books (the red ones) Liszt was heavily influenced by his heritage while writing...19 Rhapsodies. His heritage being predominately Hungarian/Rom/~ Gypsy. I know that this particular Rhapsody can make or break a performer, highly technical while at the same time allowing the performer to express themselves in a wide array of styles. Number 2 uses the Gypsy scale more than any of the other piece Liszt wrote. It is also originally for piano, then was later adapted for orchestra. That means that the technicalities of the piece become easier as opposed to harder when "fleshing the piece out" - Instead of condensing an orchestra into one instrument, you water down the piece throughout the orchestra.-
We have all heard this piece. It is a classic in Tom and Jerry. Tom is playing the piano, and Jerry drives him nuts as usual inside the piano. At the end Jerry takes the bow for playing such a hard piece and poor Tom is left ragged and his tuxedo is in shambles.
I can't help but think of a carousel whenever I heard the second and third movements.
For those of you who still have no idea what I'm talking about, here is a video from youtube of Marc Andre Hamelin playing this piece at and concert in Japan. Listen and watch this piece twice. First time through don't even watch the video just listen to it. Listen to how discordant the melodies and harmonies are. Try to pick out your favorite bits. Listen for how little he uses any pedal or modulation of the voice of the piece. Can you pick out all of the separate movements and how they play on each other? Does one part of the piece remind you of another part?
The second time you listen and watch the piece actually watch the performer play. Watch his reactions and emotions to the music. For heaven's sake watch how fast he can move his fingers!
Anyway...
If that doesn't blow your mind, or if you just don't appreciate music try some comedy. Victor Borge plays the same piece with the Muppet Rowlf. You could check that one out too.
Buck
A little background on the piece. If I remember what I learned in my beginning Piano by Thompson books (the red ones) Liszt was heavily influenced by his heritage while writing...19 Rhapsodies. His heritage being predominately Hungarian/Rom/~ Gypsy. I know that this particular Rhapsody can make or break a performer, highly technical while at the same time allowing the performer to express themselves in a wide array of styles. Number 2 uses the Gypsy scale more than any of the other piece Liszt wrote. It is also originally for piano, then was later adapted for orchestra. That means that the technicalities of the piece become easier as opposed to harder when "fleshing the piece out" - Instead of condensing an orchestra into one instrument, you water down the piece throughout the orchestra.-
We have all heard this piece. It is a classic in Tom and Jerry. Tom is playing the piano, and Jerry drives him nuts as usual inside the piano. At the end Jerry takes the bow for playing such a hard piece and poor Tom is left ragged and his tuxedo is in shambles.
I can't help but think of a carousel whenever I heard the second and third movements.
For those of you who still have no idea what I'm talking about, here is a video from youtube of Marc Andre Hamelin playing this piece at and concert in Japan. Listen and watch this piece twice. First time through don't even watch the video just listen to it. Listen to how discordant the melodies and harmonies are. Try to pick out your favorite bits. Listen for how little he uses any pedal or modulation of the voice of the piece. Can you pick out all of the separate movements and how they play on each other? Does one part of the piece remind you of another part?
The second time you listen and watch the piece actually watch the performer play. Watch his reactions and emotions to the music. For heaven's sake watch how fast he can move his fingers!
Anyway...
If that doesn't blow your mind, or if you just don't appreciate music try some comedy. Victor Borge plays the same piece with the Muppet Rowlf. You could check that one out too.
Buck
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Oats
As the first weekend in August is nearing with a drastic pace at the farm we are left with two options. 1. Grit our teeth tighten the belt and raise the battle cry of "GIT SOME!" Or, we can pray for rain and sabotage equipment.
The first weekend in August will be very busy at the farm. We have a treshing machine coming out and hopefully, I'll be able to sneek anyone that wants to see some really cool oldie-timie steam powered belt driven threshing a chance to see that. However, in order to be prepared for said event that means that the oats need to be cut and bound, then shocked, then hauled so that we might "thrash them there wheat." For future refrence if a word has an "e" in it, do not pronounce the word with an "a". Anyway. Farmer T needed some help getting the paddle binder set up so me being me, wandered on over thinking I'd get either a chance to drive two teams of horses at the same time, or operate some machinery I've never seen used before.
Alas, such was not the case. We decided to pick the hottest day of the year so far which ment that we couldn't safely use the horses. Also there were only two guys. Farmer T said that we needed at least one more, and the ladies who were working were "occupied". (Without a doubt we will hear that the ladies should be able to do that kind of work too...) So, instead of binding right away, we set up the binder with a steel tractor tounge, took the eveners off and brought up the "red horse" the Farmall M. It should go without saying, I didn't even let Farmer T finish the question of, "You want to..." I was already up on the seat, putting in the clutch and then had to pause. I was unaware that the collections side of the farm had retrofitted the M so that it ran on 12 volts. Not 6. It has an electric ignition. Farmer T just pointed that out and I fired her up and we were cruising.
We made a couple of passes until the carriage of the binder broke, so we paused to fix that. Then the shield fell off and we had to re-run the twine. Then one of the paddles wasn't cut to the right length, and we were too far from the barn to get a saw so we broke it down to size with some pliers. So...our first four passes took about 2 hours. After that we were cruising. Low gear low throttle cause I had no idea how quick the horses would be able to pull it. Then E drove out to the field and wanted to operate the binder and Farmer T hopped up on the axle while I was driving. He told me to punch it up to third and full throttle. I looked at him to make sure he was serious but I'm still not sure. I popped the clutch a bit to quick and we almost lost E off of her seat. Which is a hard thing to do considering it has a back on it.
Anyway, it was my first time this season back on a tractor and Farmer T put the itch back into me. So, since then after hours, I check the gas, hop up, start her up and just cruise around for an hour or so enjoying the quiet of the farm. I got pulled over tonight by one of the maintenance guys who shook his head at me and scolded me for driving a red tractor. I laughed and said that the only green tractor he'll see me on is an Oliver. He looked kind of puzzled for a minute, but maybe he just had gas. Told me to lock up the shop and to remember to turn off the gas. I waved said sure, and rode fifth gear into the sunset.
Also, got the suit for Big Sister's wedding. Waiting to get that sheet music in the store.
Buck
The first weekend in August will be very busy at the farm. We have a treshing machine coming out and hopefully, I'll be able to sneek anyone that wants to see some really cool oldie-timie steam powered belt driven threshing a chance to see that. However, in order to be prepared for said event that means that the oats need to be cut and bound, then shocked, then hauled so that we might "thrash them there wheat." For future refrence if a word has an "e" in it, do not pronounce the word with an "a". Anyway. Farmer T needed some help getting the paddle binder set up so me being me, wandered on over thinking I'd get either a chance to drive two teams of horses at the same time, or operate some machinery I've never seen used before.
Alas, such was not the case. We decided to pick the hottest day of the year so far which ment that we couldn't safely use the horses. Also there were only two guys. Farmer T said that we needed at least one more, and the ladies who were working were "occupied". (Without a doubt we will hear that the ladies should be able to do that kind of work too...) So, instead of binding right away, we set up the binder with a steel tractor tounge, took the eveners off and brought up the "red horse" the Farmall M. It should go without saying, I didn't even let Farmer T finish the question of, "You want to..." I was already up on the seat, putting in the clutch and then had to pause. I was unaware that the collections side of the farm had retrofitted the M so that it ran on 12 volts. Not 6. It has an electric ignition. Farmer T just pointed that out and I fired her up and we were cruising.
We made a couple of passes until the carriage of the binder broke, so we paused to fix that. Then the shield fell off and we had to re-run the twine. Then one of the paddles wasn't cut to the right length, and we were too far from the barn to get a saw so we broke it down to size with some pliers. So...our first four passes took about 2 hours. After that we were cruising. Low gear low throttle cause I had no idea how quick the horses would be able to pull it. Then E drove out to the field and wanted to operate the binder and Farmer T hopped up on the axle while I was driving. He told me to punch it up to third and full throttle. I looked at him to make sure he was serious but I'm still not sure. I popped the clutch a bit to quick and we almost lost E off of her seat. Which is a hard thing to do considering it has a back on it.
Anyway, it was my first time this season back on a tractor and Farmer T put the itch back into me. So, since then after hours, I check the gas, hop up, start her up and just cruise around for an hour or so enjoying the quiet of the farm. I got pulled over tonight by one of the maintenance guys who shook his head at me and scolded me for driving a red tractor. I laughed and said that the only green tractor he'll see me on is an Oliver. He looked kind of puzzled for a minute, but maybe he just had gas. Told me to lock up the shop and to remember to turn off the gas. I waved said sure, and rode fifth gear into the sunset.
Also, got the suit for Big Sister's wedding. Waiting to get that sheet music in the store.
Buck
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Falco
It feels like a very long time since I've had a sit down heart-to-heart with myself for the entire world to see. Let's take a ride.
June was...well it was crazy. There really isn't another way to put it. We got back from Sarah's wedding - which was very cool - in the wee hours of the morning. Kate was already out like a light, Mother had dozed for a good 120 miles. Hence why I vollunteered to drive. The ladies kept harping on me that it was because I had to be in control of the vehicle, or that I would probably get car sick, among all sorts of reasons why it is funny that "men always drive". For my part, yes, I would rather be in control of the vehicle, although I trust my mother and my sister with my life. No, I don't really get car sick. Usually when I'm riding it's because it was the best solution to get home safely. My reasoning and it still stands is that, I know I can function perfectly well on very little sleep if any. I also know my mother and my sister. I've known them all my life, Ma is usually out cold around 9 or 10 pm. Kate can stay up late, but she was working on a few hours deficit. I figured I was the best one suited for the job.
Anyway. June at work was wet. We have had the wettest June since 1873 when they started keeping track of that kind of stuff. That being said however, first cutting of hay was done on time and in time. Corn is up cultivated, and looking superb. The wheat is ready to harvest. The only real big problem is firewood. We don't have enough and what we have is all wet. Yet my bosses still won't let me go nuts on building my wood shed for the 50 farm. Because "nobody south of the 45 parallel would have a wood shed."
Despite my supervisors declining permission to begin construction on this "inappropriate shed from hell that will make life easier" I have in fact begun construction on it. Mullberry trees are my posts. The floor from the old barn will serve as roofing material. I'm working on collecting green elms for the crosses and supports. For the most part I have gathered all of these materials while on the clock, and while not neglecting my other duties as an interpreter. So there.
Jessie came down from So. Dakota for a party we had on the 3rd of July. She got here early enough that she toured through the farms and chat-chitted with people. She came to the conclusion very early into the tour that most of us are burnt out. We hit the "PLAY" button when people show up but for the most part we're doing our own thing until someone either stops us or asks a quesiton. Now that's kind of my my MO for...three years now. Yes, when there's a school tour, or a day camp, or a group of kids, I bust my butt to make sure that those kids remember something. Even if it's the line, "I would run away from a crazy guy with a beard hitting me with a stick". But the old time farmers, who I love to swap stories with over coffee, hate me when I'm at work. Just because I realize that I have no hope of educating them in how gloriously ignorant they are in regards to farming techniques in central Iowa in the 1850's. They just relate it back to "we used a sickle just like that (pointint at the grain cradle) to cut weeds around fence lines." My reply started three years ago as, "how'd that work seeing that the fence lines would have torn apart the dowels?" and is now, "No you didn't. You might have used a sickle, but you didn't use anything like that". To be honest, I don't say that outloud, but it is deafening when I think it that loud.
I just don't know anymore. 'S a topsy turvy world we're living in. Thank God for gravity and taxes.
Went back home recently on a vacation of sorts. I hadn't planned on staying for more than a wedding reception because the plan was to go camp. But some stuff happened, then some other stuff...and I was in Illinois for longer than planned. Camping was great. Other than I got skunked out on the water with six lines in the drink and four days of fishing. To make it worse, not 10 feet from me an eagle snagged a fish one morning. I started yelling at the eagle shouting, "Teach me your ways! Why did God give me arms instead of wings and feet instead of talons? Teach this young grasshopper!" The eagle just kept on flying. Jerk.
Met some real nice folk up north got a bumber sticker that says, "Don't eat yellow snow, don't drink yellow beer" I thought it was catchy. I promptly gave it to 15 or so year old kid sitting next to me at a free lumber jack show cause he was eye balling it.
Got in touch with Monica this past week. She will be my co-coach with the nationals team this winter. She has all these plans that she wants to accomplish with the girls. I had to reign her back into the real world where we haven't even had tryouts yet. But on the plus side, she knows what she's doing. Which leaves me in the administration and setter and hitters coaching role. Curt, the big boss man of the coaches, took me aside earlier this summer to let me in on a secret: I'm there to keep the parents in check. Monica is too nice a girl to say no, whereas as I am apparently not a nice girl. News to me.
Anyway. Big sister got a pretty sa-weet job and I'm excited for her. I finally got my orientation stuff for school, and the more I think about it, the more that I realize I might have to put it off for another year, or at least semester. I'm scheduled to go up there on Thursday and talk some things over with a counselor. I haven't had much luck with them in my higher education carreer. Hopefully this changes.
If you need me you know how to get in touch with me.
Buck
June was...well it was crazy. There really isn't another way to put it. We got back from Sarah's wedding - which was very cool - in the wee hours of the morning. Kate was already out like a light, Mother had dozed for a good 120 miles. Hence why I vollunteered to drive. The ladies kept harping on me that it was because I had to be in control of the vehicle, or that I would probably get car sick, among all sorts of reasons why it is funny that "men always drive". For my part, yes, I would rather be in control of the vehicle, although I trust my mother and my sister with my life. No, I don't really get car sick. Usually when I'm riding it's because it was the best solution to get home safely. My reasoning and it still stands is that, I know I can function perfectly well on very little sleep if any. I also know my mother and my sister. I've known them all my life, Ma is usually out cold around 9 or 10 pm. Kate can stay up late, but she was working on a few hours deficit. I figured I was the best one suited for the job.
Anyway. June at work was wet. We have had the wettest June since 1873 when they started keeping track of that kind of stuff. That being said however, first cutting of hay was done on time and in time. Corn is up cultivated, and looking superb. The wheat is ready to harvest. The only real big problem is firewood. We don't have enough and what we have is all wet. Yet my bosses still won't let me go nuts on building my wood shed for the 50 farm. Because "nobody south of the 45 parallel would have a wood shed."
Despite my supervisors declining permission to begin construction on this "inappropriate shed from hell that will make life easier" I have in fact begun construction on it. Mullberry trees are my posts. The floor from the old barn will serve as roofing material. I'm working on collecting green elms for the crosses and supports. For the most part I have gathered all of these materials while on the clock, and while not neglecting my other duties as an interpreter. So there.
Jessie came down from So. Dakota for a party we had on the 3rd of July. She got here early enough that she toured through the farms and chat-chitted with people. She came to the conclusion very early into the tour that most of us are burnt out. We hit the "PLAY" button when people show up but for the most part we're doing our own thing until someone either stops us or asks a quesiton. Now that's kind of my my MO for...three years now. Yes, when there's a school tour, or a day camp, or a group of kids, I bust my butt to make sure that those kids remember something. Even if it's the line, "I would run away from a crazy guy with a beard hitting me with a stick". But the old time farmers, who I love to swap stories with over coffee, hate me when I'm at work. Just because I realize that I have no hope of educating them in how gloriously ignorant they are in regards to farming techniques in central Iowa in the 1850's. They just relate it back to "we used a sickle just like that (pointint at the grain cradle) to cut weeds around fence lines." My reply started three years ago as, "how'd that work seeing that the fence lines would have torn apart the dowels?" and is now, "No you didn't. You might have used a sickle, but you didn't use anything like that". To be honest, I don't say that outloud, but it is deafening when I think it that loud.
I just don't know anymore. 'S a topsy turvy world we're living in. Thank God for gravity and taxes.
Went back home recently on a vacation of sorts. I hadn't planned on staying for more than a wedding reception because the plan was to go camp. But some stuff happened, then some other stuff...and I was in Illinois for longer than planned. Camping was great. Other than I got skunked out on the water with six lines in the drink and four days of fishing. To make it worse, not 10 feet from me an eagle snagged a fish one morning. I started yelling at the eagle shouting, "Teach me your ways! Why did God give me arms instead of wings and feet instead of talons? Teach this young grasshopper!" The eagle just kept on flying. Jerk.
Met some real nice folk up north got a bumber sticker that says, "Don't eat yellow snow, don't drink yellow beer" I thought it was catchy. I promptly gave it to 15 or so year old kid sitting next to me at a free lumber jack show cause he was eye balling it.
Got in touch with Monica this past week. She will be my co-coach with the nationals team this winter. She has all these plans that she wants to accomplish with the girls. I had to reign her back into the real world where we haven't even had tryouts yet. But on the plus side, she knows what she's doing. Which leaves me in the administration and setter and hitters coaching role. Curt, the big boss man of the coaches, took me aside earlier this summer to let me in on a secret: I'm there to keep the parents in check. Monica is too nice a girl to say no, whereas as I am apparently not a nice girl. News to me.
Anyway. Big sister got a pretty sa-weet job and I'm excited for her. I finally got my orientation stuff for school, and the more I think about it, the more that I realize I might have to put it off for another year, or at least semester. I'm scheduled to go up there on Thursday and talk some things over with a counselor. I haven't had much luck with them in my higher education carreer. Hopefully this changes.
If you need me you know how to get in touch with me.
Buck
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