Micro-rants and raves. They can live on timelessly here - liberated from the confines of Facebook (unless I have a sudden cyber-purge). Yes, there is a great big internet outside of Facebook, people! P.S. I don' tweet!
Overheard in the hairdressers' - Old Aussie bloke client to barber, "So, do you like Australia?" The barber quickly counters with, "Where are you from?" "Brisbane." That explains everything.
Today's sweet moment: Hearing my piano tuning client's gentle pleasured playing from the street as I left, when he probably didn't think anyone was listening... then running into said same client at the (local for both of us) shops, and relaying that pleasure to him...
Tuning in a religious institution. Part of my educational rave about pianos and their behaviour: "Pianos move in mysterious ways."
Today's piano tuning client: I ask, "What sort of piano playing do you do?". As he replies, "Well, it could best be described as inter-" my ultra-speedy head provides a likely conclusion to those last two syllables, '-mediate', but he surprises me with: "-mittent"! And I realize I'm none the wiser about the nature of his demands for his instrument, but as I gradually absorb clues in the room as I tune (via a comprehensive collection of CDs, music books, books about music, and books not about music) I develop a speculative profile. Meanwhile, what a pleasure to resurrect his respectable-but-neglected piano, while providing educational morsels about what (in addition to tuning) could be possible for its future. And all this so close to home that it would have been a disgrace to drive (I bicycled) how sweet it is!
It seems train fares have all but doubled - to force folk to adopt the Opal Card. I catch trains so incredibly seldom, but I'll be dragged kicking and screaming to another product necessitating access to my bank account. Oh well. Meanwhile, when I absent-mindedly boarded an express train that whizzed through my station (and many others) and had to painstakingly double back (laden with a surfeit of musical gear) with no ticket adjustment... was I thus cheating the system?? [This rant resulted in me learning of the 'anonymous' manually top-up-able Opal Card, to which I have now succumbed]
This morning's cabbie: ABC Classic FM at a very cautious and respectful volume. I complimented him on his radio choice and discretion, for not hurting my ears (or my morals). My default is always silence, but this morning (at 5am, with no sleep) his choice was just the ticket.
I've succumbed to a lurgy that sees me emulating at least four of the Seven Dwarves. I'm eschewing Happy and Bashful. Dopey qualifies via prescription drugs, and Doc might be consulted, we'll see. A timely day off today, the first in yonks. Tomorrow, back to sneezing over pianos, I guess.
(Around the house) I'm loving nourishing my Inner Cat at this time of year when the sun's warmth feels so powerful. I'm wearing a hoodie and a scarf, but my housemate is wearing a singlet and shorts. Who is 'right'?
The day: cycling to two edge-of-city event hire piano tunings. (1) The pleasure of tuning pianos I very regularly tune, no parking costs or problems. (2) The additional accidental pleasure of crunching autumn leaves with my tyres while travelling on a section of the Bourke St cycleway.
OK, I'm going to punch every second person I hear use 'alternate' when they mean 'alternative'.
Sooo glad when I'm so early to the hairdresser that not only is it all but customer-free, but none of the staff have thought (yet) to turn on the doof-with-ads - bliss!
Yesterday I was literally paid to chit-chat (nice work, eh?). Today I twice lifted a grand piano with one hand (and a perfectly-ergonomically-designed lever to make it possible). My days at 'the office' are a constant source of entertainment.
Tuned the piano in Parliament House today.
Hansard:
'A, A, A, A, A, A...'
'Is the Minister filibustering?'
'No, someone is tuning the piano'.
There is an area in the foyer with speakers in the roof broadcasting from the NSW Legislative Assembly - I was pleased the piano room was not so-equipped. Airport-style X-rays upon entry, bags full of pointy metal objects (piano tools) were mercifully permitted with my prior explanation.
A tale of two gigs, superficially the same: 1. What a shock! Never before have I encountered a situation where the band actually plays along with (bad) recorded medley tracks. I've never felt more like a robot or automaton in my life! Add to that, singularly uncharismatic, soporific and utterly cringeworthy 'stagecraft' that made me feel I must completely beige-ify my own engaging theatrics (but that's impossible). It seemed that relatively capable musicians had stooped to a new low! 2. Finally, back to real, live music-making - flexibility, spontaneity, energy, life! Merry pub punters rocked the room and flowed onto the streets dancing, a palpable positive energy, with many a phone-film to testify. We inadvertently played/sang an hour longer than scheduled because we were having such a good time. The second gig was the perfect antidote to the first... the first saw me fall out of love with all music and performance (if that's what it were to be). I'm too sensitive, I think.
I feel nostalgic for a time when every bit of bloody software on one's computer(s) wasn't constantly updating itself... it feels like a full time job postponing these updates - then finally relenting - postponing the restarts - then finally relenting.
Canberra... flight so short that they didn't serve coffee, but I got a coffee just by asking nicely! I didn't feel juice was a good accompaniment for a chocolate macadamia nut cookie (Qantas snacks). Saved the juice for later (conforming with my usual tour-thrift methods).
Inspected a dodgy donated piano at a small school today. While waiting to sign out and hand back in my visitor's pass (at reception) I was browsing the bookshelf: EVERY children's book I saw was 'based on the works of L. Ron Hubbard' - scary. Brain-laundering, anyone? Get out, run, don't walk (and not just because of the untuneable piano). Only stop to pat the cat (it was a beautiful cat). There was a cocky, too! It probably 'parrots' Dianetics to the children.
Qantas staff at check-in actually iPhone-tographed the wacky signs on my instrument flight case today. Example: 'Dear Qantas humans - please handle with compassion'. It's my way of coping, I suppose - the people who most need to read the signs mostly don't.
I didn't *really* mind when a client's dog decided to make a bed on my jacket/shirt while I was tuning the piano (in a t-shirt), I took it surprisingly well, figuring that I already have one more load of laundry to do before I leave on the next tour, and the shirt, at least, was already scheduled thusly. Meanwhile, the cat (of course) could do no wrong, spending much time on my lap (not while I was tuning) and depositing fur everywhere (including the fur that was already inside the piano!)
Dentist. Tempted to postpone, but didn't. I got caught nudging down the volume of the dentist's annoying commercial radio (it's not the first time I've adjusted the volume down, but it IS the first time I've done it so overtly and to such a degree. I didn't give a rat's). But I HATE that - I want my dentist to be focused on our communication about my bloody teeth, I'm paying good money for that. The music's bad enough, but the ads are even worse. Dentist: 'Once I use the tools, you can't hear it.' which was sort of true (and not said with any bad vibe) I had already muttered that it was the antithesis of focus (which she didn't hear). I can't believe how much I hate that sort of intrusion in these sorts of situations. I'm utterly extreme about it. *And* I was a wimpy patient enduring (relatively unusual for me) a little filling. No hard feelings, she'll just add it to her list of my anxieties.
Overheard in the hairdressers' - Old Aussie bloke client to barber, "So, do you like Australia?" The barber quickly counters with, "Where are you from?" "Brisbane." That explains everything.
Today's sweet moment: Hearing my piano tuning client's gentle pleasured playing from the street as I left, when he probably didn't think anyone was listening... then running into said same client at the (local for both of us) shops, and relaying that pleasure to him...
Tuning in a religious institution. Part of my educational rave about pianos and their behaviour: "Pianos move in mysterious ways."
Today's piano tuning client: I ask, "What sort of piano playing do you do?". As he replies, "Well, it could best be described as inter-" my ultra-speedy head provides a likely conclusion to those last two syllables, '-mediate', but he surprises me with: "-mittent"! And I realize I'm none the wiser about the nature of his demands for his instrument, but as I gradually absorb clues in the room as I tune (via a comprehensive collection of CDs, music books, books about music, and books not about music) I develop a speculative profile. Meanwhile, what a pleasure to resurrect his respectable-but-neglected piano, while providing educational morsels about what (in addition to tuning) could be possible for its future. And all this so close to home that it would have been a disgrace to drive (I bicycled) how sweet it is!
It seems train fares have all but doubled - to force folk to adopt the Opal Card. I catch trains so incredibly seldom, but I'll be dragged kicking and screaming to another product necessitating access to my bank account. Oh well. Meanwhile, when I absent-mindedly boarded an express train that whizzed through my station (and many others) and had to painstakingly double back (laden with a surfeit of musical gear) with no ticket adjustment... was I thus cheating the system?? [This rant resulted in me learning of the 'anonymous' manually top-up-able Opal Card, to which I have now succumbed]
This morning's cabbie: ABC Classic FM at a very cautious and respectful volume. I complimented him on his radio choice and discretion, for not hurting my ears (or my morals). My default is always silence, but this morning (at 5am, with no sleep) his choice was just the ticket.
I've succumbed to a lurgy that sees me emulating at least four of the Seven Dwarves. I'm eschewing Happy and Bashful. Dopey qualifies via prescription drugs, and Doc might be consulted, we'll see. A timely day off today, the first in yonks. Tomorrow, back to sneezing over pianos, I guess.
(Around the house) I'm loving nourishing my Inner Cat at this time of year when the sun's warmth feels so powerful. I'm wearing a hoodie and a scarf, but my housemate is wearing a singlet and shorts. Who is 'right'?
The day: cycling to two edge-of-city event hire piano tunings. (1) The pleasure of tuning pianos I very regularly tune, no parking costs or problems. (2) The additional accidental pleasure of crunching autumn leaves with my tyres while travelling on a section of the Bourke St cycleway.
OK, I'm going to punch every second person I hear use 'alternate' when they mean 'alternative'.
Sooo glad when I'm so early to the hairdresser that not only is it all but customer-free, but none of the staff have thought (yet) to turn on the doof-with-ads - bliss!
Yesterday I was literally paid to chit-chat (nice work, eh?). Today I twice lifted a grand piano with one hand (and a perfectly-ergonomically-designed lever to make it possible). My days at 'the office' are a constant source of entertainment.
Tuned the piano in Parliament House today.
Hansard:
'A, A, A, A, A, A...'
'Is the Minister filibustering?'
'No, someone is tuning the piano'.
There is an area in the foyer with speakers in the roof broadcasting from the NSW Legislative Assembly - I was pleased the piano room was not so-equipped. Airport-style X-rays upon entry, bags full of pointy metal objects (piano tools) were mercifully permitted with my prior explanation.
A tale of two gigs, superficially the same: 1. What a shock! Never before have I encountered a situation where the band actually plays along with (bad) recorded medley tracks. I've never felt more like a robot or automaton in my life! Add to that, singularly uncharismatic, soporific and utterly cringeworthy 'stagecraft' that made me feel I must completely beige-ify my own engaging theatrics (but that's impossible). It seemed that relatively capable musicians had stooped to a new low! 2. Finally, back to real, live music-making - flexibility, spontaneity, energy, life! Merry pub punters rocked the room and flowed onto the streets dancing, a palpable positive energy, with many a phone-film to testify. We inadvertently played/sang an hour longer than scheduled because we were having such a good time. The second gig was the perfect antidote to the first... the first saw me fall out of love with all music and performance (if that's what it were to be). I'm too sensitive, I think.
I feel nostalgic for a time when every bit of bloody software on one's computer(s) wasn't constantly updating itself... it feels like a full time job postponing these updates - then finally relenting - postponing the restarts - then finally relenting.
Canberra... flight so short that they didn't serve coffee, but I got a coffee just by asking nicely! I didn't feel juice was a good accompaniment for a chocolate macadamia nut cookie (Qantas snacks). Saved the juice for later (conforming with my usual tour-thrift methods).
Inspected a dodgy donated piano at a small school today. While waiting to sign out and hand back in my visitor's pass (at reception) I was browsing the bookshelf: EVERY children's book I saw was 'based on the works of L. Ron Hubbard' - scary. Brain-laundering, anyone? Get out, run, don't walk (and not just because of the untuneable piano). Only stop to pat the cat (it was a beautiful cat). There was a cocky, too! It probably 'parrots' Dianetics to the children.
Qantas staff at check-in actually iPhone-tographed the wacky signs on my instrument flight case today. Example: 'Dear Qantas humans - please handle with compassion'. It's my way of coping, I suppose - the people who most need to read the signs mostly don't.
I didn't *really* mind when a client's dog decided to make a bed on my jacket/shirt while I was tuning the piano (in a t-shirt), I took it surprisingly well, figuring that I already have one more load of laundry to do before I leave on the next tour, and the shirt, at least, was already scheduled thusly. Meanwhile, the cat (of course) could do no wrong, spending much time on my lap (not while I was tuning) and depositing fur everywhere (including the fur that was already inside the piano!)
Dentist. Tempted to postpone, but didn't. I got caught nudging down the volume of the dentist's annoying commercial radio (it's not the first time I've adjusted the volume down, but it IS the first time I've done it so overtly and to such a degree. I didn't give a rat's). But I HATE that - I want my dentist to be focused on our communication about my bloody teeth, I'm paying good money for that. The music's bad enough, but the ads are even worse. Dentist: 'Once I use the tools, you can't hear it.' which was sort of true (and not said with any bad vibe) I had already muttered that it was the antithesis of focus (which she didn't hear). I can't believe how much I hate that sort of intrusion in these sorts of situations. I'm utterly extreme about it. *And* I was a wimpy patient enduring (relatively unusual for me) a little filling. No hard feelings, she'll just add it to her list of my anxieties.
I wish I had filmed the bubbly Madonna-microphoned-up
presenter at Leichhardt Marketplace offering magical cleaning products and
techniques. Such up-beat delivery - to twenty-five EMPTY chairs. Worthy (and
reminiscent) of certain scenes in Sam Simmons' TV series 'Problems'. That was
yesterday. At least today she had a smattering of an audience. Thus, the scene
moved from comically surreal to mundane (unless you're seeking alternatives to
vinegar and bi-carb soda for those stubborn stains).
Curse-you-Aldi-and-your-perfect-little-frypans-half-the-price-of-what-I-just-paid-at-Coles-because-Coles-always-has-frypans-but-you-only-sometimes-do-hardly-ever-in-fact-curse-you-oh-oh-Aldi-I'm-so-sorry-I-didn't-mean-it-let's-never-fight-again-I-love-you-Aldi-let's-drink-Swedish-cider-from-your-one-and-only-licensed-aisle!
A merry dance implicating ISP, modem, laptop, wireless
drivers. Internetless until I was ready to smash someone, anyone, for a hit of
the drug of being online. After 12 hours and as many reboots I had to liberate
a pair of (two-year-old) yellow pages books from their plastic swaddle to
desperately find phone numbers. These books work for me every day - as a handy
ergonomic block to elevate laptops. It's the first time they've been read. Long
story medium-length, it turns out there's a tiny switch on the side of the
computer for wireless - it had been bumped off. Normal time-wasting can now be
resumed...
I wish (when at the supermarket) I would simply accept that
I *will* want chips (crisps) later, rather than denying it. Instead, now I'm
off to keep the local milk bar in business.
Delta Goodrem *clang* and Don McLean *clang* (or his
pianist) - playin' on the pianos I tuned. It was amusing hearing the piano
carriers tell stories of all the Big Names (drunk) at the DG after-party, when
they picked up that piano. Meanwhile, at the Enmore Theatre I told the crew,
"This piano is off to Penrith tomorrow, and so am I". Someone asked,
"How out-of-tune does a piano go... per kilometre?". Ha! I said,
"I'll let you know after tomorrow!"
Virgin Flight: 1. Entertainment only via (BYO) wifi-enabled
device (but only if you've already downloaded the relevant app). I don't do
devices nor apps but have many other ways to entertain myself. I considered
asking if they had a 'loaner' two-tin-cans-plus-string device, but instead
restricted my research to, 'Is-coffee-complimentary-then-yes-please.' 2. We
sure had to slam on the brakes on touchdown with a 90km wind up our arse! 3. I
may have witnessed something of almost Thylacine-rarity (on Virgin) - a female
flight attendant over 30!
Best-ever walk to work day. A while back I tuned a piano
three doors up in my street. Today: TWO doors up (a respectable piano in good
condition, in the 'good room' what is not to love about that!?)
Why is it that sometimes I can ration two squares of
chocolate as though I'm in an Amsterdam attic, and other times I devour a whole
box of (ALDI) savoury shapes-style biscuits (as I just did). You thought I was
going to say a whole block of chocolate, didn't you?
Potential piano tuning client: Do you charge more for
Sundays? Me: No, half the time I don't even know what day of the week it is,
they are so irrelevant, so, no. (Hastily adding) But I always keep my
appointments. --- I guess I work more on dates than days and have no pattern to
my (un)employment.
Just showed some folk a photo of a pertinent meme on my
camera (because I only have a dumb phone). Someone looking at it did that
'thing' you do with your fingers to enlarge the image... that iPhone, iPad,
iThing 'thing'. Heh! It doesn't work on my camera!
Proud of myself - bought a cheap tube spanner set and
tightened the kitchen mixer tap. It was getting very loose on the sink but is
more functional now. Meanwhile I think a new washer is needed - that might be
beyond me. Let's see...
I feel nostalgic for a time when every bit of bloody
software on one's computer(s) wasn't constantly updating itself... it feels
like a full time job postponing these updates - then finally relenting -
postponing the restarts - then finally relenting.
O --- M --- G --- My local Aldi now has a liquor department.
I bought some interesting Swedish cider to share with a Swedeophile friend when
we dine this fine evening (and because I thought my drink miles needed
indulgent upping).
Canberra... the flight is so short that they didn't serve
coffee, but I got a coffee just by asking nicely! I didn't feel juice was a
good accompaniment for a chocolate macadamia nut cookie (Qantas snacks). I saved
the juice for later (conforming with my usual tour-thrift methods).
Inspected a dodgy donated piano at a small school today.
While waiting to sign out and hand back in my visitor's pass (at reception) I
was browsing the bookshelf: EVERY children's book I saw was 'based on the works
of L. Ron Hubbard' - scary. Brain-laundering, anyone? Get out, run, don't walk
(and not just because of the untuneable piano). Only stop to pat the cat (it
was a beautiful cat). There was a cocky, too! It probably 'parrots' Dianetics
to the children.
Qantas staff at check-in actually iPhone-tographed the wacky
signs on my instrument flight case today. Example: 'Dear Qantas humans - please
handle with compassion'. It's my way of coping, I suppose - the people who most
need to read the signs mostly don't.
I didn't *really* mind when a client's dog decided to make a
bed on my jacket/shirt while I was tuning the piano (in a t-shirt), I took it
surprisingly well, figuring that I already have one more load of laundry to do
before I leave on the next tour, and the shirt, at least, was already scheduled
thusly. Meanwhile, the cat (of course) could do no wrong, spending much time on
my lap (not while I was tuning) and depositing fur everywhere (including the
fur that was already inside the piano!)
This hotel room is a bloody disgrace – has anyone even
cleaned in here? Oh wait... I’m home.
Epic gig. Kangaroo Valley. Technically a three-hour wedding
gig, it ended up being just over 17 hours (including travel), because the last
little causeway bridge to enter the actual venue (a bloody big trendified shed)
flooded to 1 metre, and we were trapped. Slowly one part of the shed started to
resemble a refuge/evacuation centre, with sofas becoming beds, and other stretcher
beds being assembled. Priority for nearby accessible accommodation was given to
folk with kiddies, or very oldies. Meanwhile, in the main section of the shed,
folk continued to party, largely unperturbed. We were finally sanctioned to
cross the river at 2.30am and I was home by 5am. Whew! Off to Katoomba now...
Tried a new thing in the garden today - creating the type of
interest I enjoy as a pedestrian. More challenging than I thought: the gap I
envisioned for the plantings is much narrower in reality than in my daydreamy
head, and I didn't even glance at it as I headed out, let alone measure! Soil
levels variously way too low or way too high (and on concrete) but I
persevered, possibly brutalising most of the plants. Let's see what happens!
[This pseudo-tweet brought to you by The Brown Thumb Gardeners' Collective]
Wrapped up my first Tamworth Country Music Festival (Mic
Conway’s National Junk Band) by taking my jug stylings and hi-jinks to ALL
THREE other jug bands in town (on the same day): Uncle Bob’s Jug Band, The
Chicken Train Skifflers, and The Perch Creek Family Jug Band… the trifecta -
whew!
Wow, my first sighting of someone actually using a
"Liptons Bike" (Brisbane bikeshare scheme).
What's with this 'fashion' for wearing spectacles with clear
(non-prescription) lenses - or even NO lenses?
You know you're working with the 'cut it fine' crew when you
turn up at 4 minutes to the gig kick-off and no-one else is there!
Installing piano bass strings requires nerves of
copper-wound high-carbon steel...
I have the divine power to break droughts - all I need to do
is attempt to maintain/rejuvenate my acres of decking.
Hearing my neighbour's ongoing tribulations with serious
health issues, hospitals and tests, I nonetheless had to internally smirk as I
collected a Kath-and-Kim-worthy malapropism from her: 'The Triad Nurse'.
"Well, yes, you have to play constantly, and in very
weird ways."
"But is it very loud, or can it be done quietly?"
"It can't really be done quietly, it's constant
playing. Sometimes you have to play more strongly than a pianist would, not all
the time, but often during the tuning... why, do you have a sleeping child
you're worried about?"
"No, I have a sleeping wife." Ha!
He *had* mentioned his wife was worked shifts. Then it went
to discussion as to where the bedroom was in relation to the piano room (too
close) whether the time selected was appropriate at all, and to whether or not
she'd suck it up for the musical betterment of her son (as he had sucked up
yada-blah-horse-daughter-something-yada...)
One 'bitten', I took all his details down, old-skool (in 'I've-pulled-the-car-over' mode). I must have been so strangely emphatic about it that he recited his address and phone number with the precise intonation of
a scrubbed-up school child, even including his postcode!
City 2 Surf + gale-force winds . I nearly became the
sousaphone version of Mary Poppins or The Flying Nun - whew!
I wish MasterChef could humour me with a few cutaway shots
of contestants washing their hands before the incredibly-hands-on-plating up!!
Kind of funny: I finish tuning piano in a studio, just in
time for a vocal lesson to start. I put the cabinet parts back on the piano and
pack up my tools. Meanwhile, the voice teacher seats herself at the *electric*
piano, right beside the freshly-tuned acoustic, and prepares to start the
lesson.
Housemate convinced house is haunted - TV spontaneously
turned itself on very late last night. Quick, ouija-board house meeting about
the uneven division of household labour!
I sometimes wonder how I coped before a Coles 'valet' handed
me a shopping basket upon entry to the supermarket.
Bored? Need something to do? Why not clumsily sweep a full
mug of coffee off the kitchen bench to provide hours of purposeful and virtuous
cleaning of crockery shards large and minuscule, and liquid from every
available surface and cranny? With the added bonus of even fewer matched and
respectable chinaware items.
Four pianos to tune at Balgowlah Boys' today. Felt like a
zoo animal in the one studio with a large glass window, at recess
