K8 the GR8

I see there’s an escaped mental patient ”vicious killer on the loose” in Dublin…

This is him, though he doesn’t wear glasses.  Just so you know.

Until he is caught, it would be wise of you not to say
‘I’ll be right back’
before leaving a room.

Sleep well.

I’ve just finished burning a new miscellaneous driving mix CD.  If anyone’s interested, here are my current favourite songs to listen to:

1. Lighthouse - The Waifs
Friends introduced me to this group when I was renting in Wicklow.  I love this album, it reminds me of chatting in the sun over a bottle of wine.

2. Run - Air
I don’t know.  This repetitive sound attracts me.  It’s nice driving music.

3. 50 Ways to Leave your Lover - Paul Simon
Because it’s just a great song. Full stop.

4. Somewhere over the rainbow - Israel Kamakawiwo’ole
I don’t have cable, but every now and then there’s a hype that infects radio stations stemming from some ad or other on tv.  This is my latest favourite.  There is always the recent cover of ‘Let’s Dance’ done in a sexy young wan’s voice, but you just can’t beat David Bowie.  He has sinister tones in his music that can’t be reproduced.

5. Cradle to the Grave - 2Pac
I’ve never given this dude a chance.  I keep hearing about how he was a modern Shakespeare and a true genius, but I’m just not so keen on rap.  I’m willing to give this track a shot though.  If anyone has any better 2Pac songs, please let me know!

6. Bleeding me - Metallica
This song is just so dark, with a great riff in the middle you just can’t bate.  Also has nice memories paperclipped to it, also is good driving music.

7. White Man in Hammersmith Palace - The Clash
This song featured in one of John Peel’s top favourites, God rest him, so I thought I’d give it a listen, even if it is mod.

8. My first born for a song - BellX1
The piano riff in this tune is fascinating to me.  It makes me want to go out and discover Jazz.  The lyrics aren’t too shabby either.

9. Eleanor Rigby - The Beatles
Possibly my favourite Beatles song?

10. Tribute - Tenacious D
If you’ve ever heard this song, you’ll know why I included it.  It has a brilliant music video too…

11. You can call me Al - Paul Simon
Paul Simon gets two hits on my CD because he’s such a legend.

12. So much trouble in the world - Bob Marley
Bob is my rock.

13. Walking after you - Foo Fighters
One of their few slow tracks.  Completely beautiful lovesong.

14. Weather with you - Crowded House
Because it’s a classic, and because it holds nice memories for TAT.

15. Forgive them Father - Lauryn Hill
So she has her problems.  Who doesn’t?  The music on this album will always be in my CD collection.

16. Street Spirit - Radiohead
‘The Bends’ is my favourite album from Radiohead.  They lost the plot a little bit after that.  Street Spirit is a beautiful haunting tune that always makes someone say ‘Oh Cool! Haven’t heard this in ages!’ when they hear it.

17. Junkie Song - The Be Good Tanyas
This is a Canadian group which was again introduced to me by friends in Wicklow.  Soft voices, beautiful lyrics and atmospheric music.  They did a good version of ‘The lakes of Ponchartrain’ too.  Here’s their ‘It’s not happening’ video… they’re such happy little campers!

 I’m now going to put this music on full volume to exact revenge on my tacky neighbour who thinks ‘Cascada’ is music which should be played very loud on a sunny Sunday morning… and thinks that it is music at all for that matter.  I hope she hates Metallica.

When I was very very little, my dad or maybe my mum, or some other figure of authority, told me never to buy anything from an ice-cream van.  They told me that the vendor puts drugs into the ice-cream to get you hooked.

I was very dissapointed yesterday when I finally approached a vendor looking for a buzz and realised that I’d been fooled, and had wasted at least 22 years of van-chasing.

I suppose my point would be that children will listen to you when you don’t expect them to.  And they will remember your words for decades.

I think I should probably do Ríanna’s story now… it’ll give me something to refer to later- I usually link to the post my dad did.  His was a lovely post and will be hard to beat, but there’s a story behind her birth, and she herself is a story in the making so it would be a shame to leave her out.  Besides, dad’s probably getting tired of deleting all the references I make.

I wrote about Sean before.  Doctors told us that there was no reason or cause behind the fact that he had this unusual epilepsy disorder, it just happened.  I’ve always wanted a big family, say.. four children perhaps, but Sean made us think twice.  What’s to say it won’t happen again?  I read about a poor chap who told his story about his five children, all born with Sean’s condition - Ohtahara Syndrome, who had all died at a young age.  All of them.  How can life be that cruel?  So, we consulted an expert in genetics, who told us that if we were to concieve again, there’d be a 5 - 15% chance of having another child born with the same disorder.

I became pregnant about 4 years ago, and presented Jeff with a pregnancy test with a little pink bow tied to it inside a card for Valentine’s day.  He was chuffed.  Unfortunately I miscarried a short while afterwards.  It’s not something I really want to happen again, it wasn’t very pleasant.  Someone said it was probably for the best, as it was a little irresponsible to be producing children out of wedlock.  Sometimes people can comfort you with the exact opposite words to what you want to hear.

A year later, I found myself pregnant yet again. There was no fainfair, no whistles or ribbons.  I let the baby grow quietly inside me, all the while hoping that things would work out this time.  I spoke to a doctor once about having a test done called an amniocentesis.  This involves having a large syringe take some amniotic fluid from my womb to test for abnormalities.  She told me that this was possible, but produced a 15% chance of miscarriage.  She asked me if I would keep the baby if it was born disabled, to which I replied straight away “Of course!”.  “Well then.” She said.

You wouldn’t believe the treatment I got when I went into hospital in labour with Rianna.  With Sean I was treated like a cow.  With Rianna I got the president’s suite.  One glance at my history chart had nurses worried, so they took great care of me and gave me whatever drugs I wanted.  I and Jeff had a good few puffs of oxygen and giggled until we felt sick.  Then, all of a sudden, a little hairy baby fell out.  When we heard a tiny cry, followed by a gentle voice saying ‘It’s a perfectly healthy baby girl’, we cried, never having felt more relieved.

It’s true what they say about babies looking like their daddy when they’re born.  Apparently this is nature making sure that daddy doesn’t eat his young.  Apparently men are less likely to eat something that resembles them.

Ríanna, in her two years of existence, has taught us so much about ourselves.  We can see our own personality traits in her as she is, quite literally, the two of us rolled into one person.  She’s very caring, has a great sense of humour, and is slightly crazy in a nice way.  She’s also quite fond of the gargle.

She goes through phases as every other kid does.  Her last phase consisted of her pretending to be a dog.  She would drop on all fours and bark on command.  This would get quite embarrasing in the supermarket, but infinately preferable to sweetie tantrums I suppose.  Her latest phase is speaking Japanese.  I don’t know where she learned it, but it’s quite impressive. 

We’ve been trying so hard to enjoy every minute of her growth, as it’s true what they say about children growing quickly.  We’re also trying to get her to learn life’s lessons on her own… she respects gravity and electricity, and is learning her limits pretty well, with plenty of bruises to show for it.  At one stage she developed an amazing shiner from a nose injury… 

The bruise was so noticeable, it enabled me to have a lot of fun with it in public.  I remember being at a checkout once in Tescos.  Ríanna had begun to complain about something, so I said in a loud voice “Quit your whingeing or I’ll give you another shiner to complete the set.”  I wish you could have been there to see the faces of the surrounding shoppers.  It was classic.  I’m quite surprised that social services didn’t follow that one up.

I could go on and on about Ríanna, being the proud mother that I am, but I think this post is already long enough.  I’ll be boring you with more updates on her antics pretty soon, undoubtedly.  *Yawn* you say?  I don’t care.  It’s my blog and I can be a big drip if I want to.

This morning, puppychild learned that her own excrement is not edible.

Our dog learned that it is.

My kingdom for a Neuralizer.

I was waiting at a set of traffic lights yesterday, listening to a mix CD that I made last year when I was feeling in a grungy mood.  The volume was low, around 6 or 8 maybe, but the windows were down, and you know yourself about car stereo accoustics.

 A woman approached the driver’s side holding a very chubby child dressed entirely in pink with a vomit inducing sailor’s cap on its ugly little head.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, making your poor child listen to that awful thrash metal rubbish like that!” she said as my toddler bopped her head to the music and stared distainfully at the cabbage-patch doll that had invaded her moment.

“Look lady” I said… “I for one choose not to depress my child with crappy nursery rhymes about the French Rebellion and Black Death.  This is not awful thrash metal, this is Pearl Jam, which is real music about the real world.  So why don’t you go home, throw out your Westlife CDs, stop gleaning advice from Dr. Phil, and open your pampered little eyes to reality.  And next time you feel like giving me parenting advice, why don’t you adress a memo to my arse first.”

Actually, I didn’t say that.  The lights turned green just as her last words had escaped and her face had returned to its ‘dog licking piss off a nettle’ composure, so I buggered off.  I thought of that reply 10 minutes further on down the road, by which time the moment had passed and I didn’t fancy wasting precious diesel looking for her.  I absolutely hate it when that happens.

Good God though, some people can be so bloody dramatic.

We went to Dublin Zoo yesterday.  Like a wee child was I in my anticipation of the trip, but on arrival, somehow the same thing always happens.

I thought it would be different this time, small toddler in tow.  Ríanna is in the process of learning the names of zoo creatures, knows ‘monkey’, ‘jowaffe’, and even ‘elenafant’, and I knew she’d be bowled over by the sight of these creatures.  Indeed she was, as we arrived at the chimp enclosure and gazed in the dark windowed room and found one hanging upside-down scratching his scrote.  ‘ISSA MON-KEE!!!  HIYA MON-KEE!!!” she exclaimed repetitively.  Unfortunately her enthusiasm burned out, or perhaps was more washed away by the constant drizzle that fell on our trip.  She wasn’t so impressed with the tiger, even though he was, for a change completely visible, lying right beside the glass of his viewing booth.  She probably thought he was stuffed.

Since watching ‘Instinct’, with Anthony Hopkins (not that I have the pleasure of watching many films with Anthony Hopkins… maybe I should’ve said ’starring’ or ‘featuring’ Anthony Hopkins…) I’ve never been able to pass the Gorilla enclosure without tearing up.  If you’ve never suffered from depression, and find it hard to understand, all you need to do is look into the eyes of a daddy Gorilla in Dublin Zoo.  He too would appear stuffed if it wasn’t for the occasional deep sigh he emits from time to time.  You’d want to climb in there and give him a big hug.

Somehow the spice always gets stolen from a trip to the zoo when you see similar looks of depression on the animal’s faces.  They all have the same symptoms… lethargy, lack of interest, and constant sleepiness.  ‘Oh look, here’s another sleeping animal!  Isn’t he majestic, children?…. No, you can’t see him because he’s in disguise… look, just trust me.. he’s there, ok?’

At lunchtime, we got an insider’s look on the zoo.  Our group was crammed inside a glass walled area, evading the rain, munching tiredly on our picnics.  Occasionally we’d get a glance from a passer-by, who probably noted how depressed we looked.

We didn’t get to see all the animals, as toddler tension reached it’s max half-way around the park… the kind of sleepy tension that no amount of M&Ms can fix.  I’ve never yet seen the reptile house… it holds some fascination for me, like a mystical path in a forest that you never get to explore, and probably never will for fear of ruining the hope that it leads to a fairy village or something.

I always wonder why the powers that be don’t enlarge the area of the Zoo, to give it’s residents more room to breathe.  The zoo takes up about maybe 4 acres, in a park of a 15 acre area.  There is a large expantion of grassy land around the zoo’s territory, and even a few unncessesary buildings.  The polo grounds for example could be sacrificed, and I definately think that a few gorillas deserve the turf more than the president does…  if it was up to me I’d put her up in a council house in Stoneybatter.

Addendum:  Seriously, what was I thinking?!?!  I would like to correct my mathematical boo-boo here and mention that Phoenix Park is not actually 15 acres, but is instead 1,760 acres.  The zoo itself is 35 acres in area as opposed to my guestimate of 4.  What a bimbo am I.  My underlying point still remains, however, if not drastically re-inforced.

Dario has inspired me to write about the wonderful musical instrument that is the guitar.

There is something intriguing about watching a person playing… whether it’s a complicated tune like ‘Classical Gas’, or something as simple as Oasis’ ‘Wonderwall’, you think to yourself… I’d give my right arm to be able to do that, metaphorically speaking.  So you pick up this wonderful wooden structure, and pluck a string.  You might even pick out the opening riff to Nirvana’s ‘Come as you are’, and will be so excited you’ll want to show everybody. 

The big mistake that people make with learning the guitar is that they want to learn how to play ‘Hotel California’ straight away, but they soon find out that there’s a lot of crawling to be done before they can undertake the fun stuff.  If you skip the basics, you’ll get bored, and give up.  This is truly a crying shame.  It looks increadibly easy, and it is, all you have to do is stick with it, and practice.  You’ll be amazed at what you can do.

I have a musical background which helps a lot, but isn’t totally necessary.  I played the piano and the violin to 6th grade, and toyed with the cello and the viola a bit in school.  I don’t have a specific talent for music, but I understand it, and can figure out how a musical instrument works pretty quickly.  I can read music, but have never needed that skill when playing the guitar, as guitar ‘tabs’ have a different appearance to sheet music. 

If you can carry a tune, and if you can listen to a piece of music and listen specifically to the bass-line chords of the music, you can play the guitar.  It’s as simple as that.  Then all you have to do is learn the basic chords.  There are many websites that will teach you the chords you need.

The next thing you’ll need to do is put up with a lot of pain.  There are basically two types of guitar string.  You have your steel string which produces an amazing sound, and you have your nylon string which is more mellow.  When you’re learning the guitar, start with nylon strings.  They hurt a lot less.  The tips of your fingers are repetitively pressing hard on thin strings, and if you use steel strings, it’ll feel like you’re cutting your fingers with cheese wire.  The more you practice pressing on the strings, the tougher your fingertips will get.  You won’t notice the pain at first, your fingertips will go numb… they may even bleed a little bit.  When you finish a long guitar practice session, the feeling will suddenly rush back into your fingers and you’ll be in serious pain.  You may even find blisters forming.  This is a good thing.  When your fingers heal up enough, you’ll be able to play again, and you’ll notice that each time you do this, it will hurt less and less.  When callouses appear on your fingertips and you can stab them with a needle and not puncture the skin, you’ll be a guitar player my son.

Once you’ve figured out the basic chords, understand how chords relate to each other, and can read guitar tabs, it’s time to learn some songs.  This is how I do it:

1. Think of a song.  Don’t make it complicated.  Make it a song that you know the lyrics to.

2. Listen to the song.  Loop it over and over so that you get used to the way the music changes.  Get to know the bass chords, and try to coordinate your right hand with the beat of the music.  Learning how to strum can be just as hard as learning the chords themselves.

3. Find the tabs of the song on a tab downloader, such as this one, or this one, and try to play along to the music as you’re listening to it.  Before long, you’ll be able to turn off the music, and play on your own.  This is an amazing feeling. 

Sometimes, you’ll come across a tab sheet that someone has made, and you’ll see a note at the top that says something like… ‘to be played on the third fret’.  This means that if you play on the strings as they are, it won’t be in the same key as the real music.  What you need to do here is go out and buy yourself a capo.  This brilliant invention means that you can change the key of the music as you like, by placing the capo on different frets.  It also comes in very handy if you want to sing while playing, but find you can’t, because your voice doesn’t stretch that high or low.  The capo lets you change the key so that you can sing at a pitch that suits you.

I take my hat off to anyone who wants to learn the guitar, but if there’s any more advice I can give, it’s that practice is the hardest part, and therefore the most important.  Stick with it.  Don’t give up.  You’ll thank yourself when someone hands you a guitar at a party, says ‘Sing us a song there… go on!’ and watches in awe as you play.  They’re all thinking ‘I’d give my right arm to be able to do that!’