My apologies, Gentle Readers, this is going to be a very stream-of-consciousness thing.
First up, YAY my mandolin has FINALLY shipped, they sent me the notice on We the 24th, which means that due to the holiday, and the weekend and so on, I will hopefully get it late next week, ie, Dec 1st-3rd, ideally. Since it's coming from Ebay, I am actually not sure where my mandolin is shipping from. The Ebay actual seller is a real musician, and their musician's shop says that they're based in Missouri. Well, all righty then. The only actual *store*, ie, retail supplier, I have ever found for this particular mandolin, however, is located in New York State, near the Hudson Valley (Adirondack Guitar, I believe their name is). So it could be coming from anywhere. All I know is that thankfully they are not using the United States Post Office to ship my instrument, thank goodness, although I haven't yet received a tracking # either like they said they would give me. I will wait until Monday, it being a holiday weekend, and then humbly ask my seller for one, since they said they would give me one. I believe they use Fedex and I hope that they package the mandolin well, I did NOT buy a case on Ebay for many reasons and Adirondack Guitar, well, let's just say that I can get the same case for about $20 less with FREE SHIPPING from the Music Center (dot com), which is even better than Amazon's pricing.
I am very excited about this. The chords etc for a mandolin are *much* easier than on my dreadnought guitar, the neck is smaller, and I believe that I will be able to more easily play specifically the 17th century dance music that I love, and that it will sound more historically correct too, which is always good. Yes, I am that dedicated to my hobby. Historic re-enacting gets inside of you in a way that is unlike many other (though not all) hobbies and eventually you become willing to spend inordinate amounts of money on your presentation, because you have fallen in love with living in a different time in history. Put it this way. I would never have thought about buying a mandolin, largely because I didn't think I could play it, until I picked up the guitar again and that happened not just because of Great Big Sea but also because at the same time, my living history group had a sudden deflux (outflux?) of very necessary musicians. I had to fill the gap, and so, the guitar, because it was what I had available. Then, I did my 17th century homework and realized a mandolin would much better suit, and my long-buried desire to learn some bluegrass also suddenly came to the fore, rather like some sort of emotional or physical breakthrough, in another context!
I already have a name for my mandolin too :) Those of you who are Great Big Sea fans reading this might think that I took the name from their recent song Have a Cuppa Tea, but I didn't. The name was inspired by a very vivid memory I have of a pretty red-headed hillbilly girl in a Warner Bros cartoon -- Rosalie. Speaking of which, if anybody knows the cartoon girl I am talking about and can find a picture of her or know which cartoon she's in, I would be eternally grateful. I could have sworn she was in Hill-Billy Hare, but apparently not.
I've recently been writing a fan fic with a friend and I have never tag-teamed my writing before, it's kind of fun. Although, given that she lives in another country we have to do it via a chat program and since the POV is currently in 1st person (for both characters, which makes it interesting) it's really more like a role play than writing a story. But I'm having fun with it.
I am still trying to figure out how to get to the gym and do the hours of ChaCha I need to do every day AND have time for music AND do this writing with my friend, and it's really not going very well. I haven't practiced my guitar for weeks and I've pretty much lost my calluses. I just can't figure out how to do everything. Since I work from home you 'd think it would be easier to do all of this (I mean, it's not like it's any more to do than a regular person has to do) but it's not.
and recently my sleep phase disorder has really been taking over and I have been sleeping from about 8am to about 4pm, which absolutely does NOT work for getting all the stuff that I mentioned in the prior paragraph accomplished.
I came home from Thanskgiving yesterday absolutely exhausted. I forced myself to do an hour of ChaCha and made another $4 (well under my daily necessary minimum but well . . . at least I'm $4 closer to my goal, right?) but I really needed to get some sleep, because I was falling asleep at the keyboard. What do you do when two priorities collide like that? The compromise of at least making SOME money seemed like the best solution. Thanksgiving with my family didn't go very well, hence the exhaustion, but I've detailed that in a Facebook note so perhaps you will hear my thoughts about it later, Gentle Readers, but not right now. I want some time to process it all.
At this point in time I would like to say that I find the concept of 'Black Friday' almost physically repulsive, and definitely emotionally vile. More on that later too.
This weekend is a time to party! Had Thanksgiving on the proper Thursday with my family, then a much happier celebration of two of my dear friend's birthdays on Black Friday evening (the only money this household spends on that date, by deliberate choice), on Saturday Hubby and I get to put up our Christmas decor both inside and out, and have our own Thanksgiving dinner, and then on Sunday of this weekend, we're all going over to my mother -in-laws -- self and Hubby, bro and sis in law and their two kids, and at least one more family friend -- for *their* Thanksgiving.
My holiday heartburn has started, precipitated by the massive doses of Aleve I had to take to deal with my back *last* weekend. Which went out because like a fool, I went back to the gym after being sick and promptly worked out WAY too hard. Which meant that I lost yet another week of workout time because I had to recover from that, sigh. I think I am finally back now, though, and I will just have to take it easier, knowing that a good low-key workout every day is still helping my body achieve our goals, as opposed to trying to jump right back in where I was 6 weeks ago.
Anyway, Rolaids no longer produces the lovely all-in-one that I usually use for these 6 weeks (from Thanksgiving to New Year's -- all that forced family togetherness plus trying to get extra $$ for Christmas presents plus being forced to be extra social on top of all the usual stuff . . . In a very specific way relating to family and social requirements, I HATE the holidays) so I suspect I will be spending a bit of extra moolah this year to buy all the separate components that used to be in the Rolaids. Oh well. I'd rather do that than stay up at nights (and mornings, and noonings) with heartburn, gas, and other associated stress-induced gastric upset.
Is this getting long? I should go back to bed. I have more to talk about, but I will do that this afternoon, I think.
We Three
Three good reasons to get out of bed on a cold, rainy night!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
My Rules For My Actors, or, The Shit I Put Up With.
(Gentle Readers, today I wanted to write a post about how our freedoms are being eroded by the TSA, in particular, the freedom to NOT get molested before every air flight, but it's not coming together and anyway, I am not in a rant-and-roar sort of mood. Instead, you're going to get a hopefully more fun post.)
Since I've been a stage manager for 20 years now, or thereabouts anyway, I decided that I would compile a list of the Stuff I Want To See Happen when I am stage managing. Without further ado (and very little editing), here it is.
1) Pick up your own shit. What are you, 3 years old? In particular, throw away your nasty used Kleenex and makeup sponges, do you know how many germs *I* can get when I have to touch your manky crap? Throw it away, please, in the receptacles provided.
2) Don't lose your shit. Because when you lose your shit, you freak out, which makes everybody else freak out, which means that my job suddenly becomes less about getting the show on its legs and more about keeping everybody from suddenly having emotional issues. Not only that, but when I have to spend an extra hour in the theatre after everybody else has gone home, looking for your shit, I miss the party and get less sleep for tomorrow's show, which will not endear me to you.
3) Don't talk shit. I believe in open, painfully honest communication. If you try to go all passive-aggressive on me, I will sling it right back at you, except that I'll lose the 'passive' part first. Just tell me what you frickin' want, I don't have all day to stand around trying to translate your needs, particularly when there are 40 other people standing in line behind you.
4) Don't make shit up. If you're late for your call because you have the world's biggest hangover since 1923, let me know so that I can prepare you a raw egg, coffee, tabasco and Worchestershire sauce smoothie. If you can't make your call because you just got into a car accident, let me know so I can send somebody to go get you and bring you to the show. Or, alternatively, so that I can inform your understudy. DO NOT SAY 'Oh, I'll be there in 10 minutes'. That doesn't help. The only exception is if you really are going to show up in ten minutes. And I have a stopwatch, so I will know.
5) Tell me about your shit. If you're having a bad day, if you've got the mother of all colds, if your grandmother just died, please, let me know. It's my job to make sure your life during this show is as easy as possible so that you can do your job to the best of your ability without interruption. If you need a bit of a shoulder to cry on or somebody to listen while you have a cathartic rage moment, or a neddy pot and sea salt standing by every time you come off stage, that's what I'm there for.But you know what? I can't do all of that if you don't clue me in. So talk to me. Open your yap and tell me what's going on. I might not be your Facebook friend.
6) Don't leave shit backstage that's not supposed to be there. Other people besides you live back there. This is their world too, respect it. This includes ALL of your props (they have a home at the props table, make sure they get back there!!) cigarettes (lit, previously smoked, and unused), used and new cough drops, chewing gum (again, used or not) and condoms (yes, in any condition). This also includes purses, articles of clothing, books, car keys, cell phones, and other technological items. And speaking of technology . . .
7) Turn your shit off. This wasn't a problem back in the early 90's and previous decades but it is now. If you've got a laptop, put it in sleep mode. If you've got an Ipod, turn it off or mute the volume. If you've got a cell phone, put it on vibrate or leave it off all together, and if you're a doctor or lawyer or are otherwise on call, give the blasted thing to me so that *I* can keep a watch on it, because I guarantee you I will be better at that than you will tonight. I can run messages, and you can't, for example.
8) If you insist on wearing expensive shit to the theatre, like jewelry, give it to me while you are onstage. The stage manager's booth is locked, and I'm the only person that goes in there. There are thieves out there that specialize in getting backstage during a show in order to rob people blind of wallets and jewelry (wedding rings in particular tend to walk away). If you don't feel comfortable leaving your stuff backstage, I can take it. I have a box in the booth for this purpose. I will give your shit back to you at the end of the night.
9) Leave your shit at home. This rule is meant mostly for your emotional crap, although I'm pretty sure that I don't want to see your actual luggage either, particularly not if the dressing room is tiny and you have to share it. If you've done your best, and you just can't leave it outside of the theatre, see Rule #5. Please don't try to do your job when your shit has got you in its grip. At best, it's a distraction, and at worst, its an actual physical liability.
10) If I tell you to do shit, do it. Please don't bug me about it, whine, or snarl about what a bitch I am behind my back. Your director is counting on me to turn whatever vision he has that will make you look great into your reality. So please, when I give you a note, don't argue with me. When I ask you to do something, just do it. And don't do the classic little kid ploy of dividing and conquering. I am the director's mouthpiece, I say nothing that hasn't previously gotten approved by him or her. I do nothing without prior approval. I can't even think thoughts that deviate from the plan, for the duration of the show. It's not my opinion coming out of my mouth, it's the director's. Really. If you go to your director, complaining about what I told you, the chances are good that the reply you'll get is 'No, she's right, do what she says'. So save us all the time, because it is a precious commodity, and accept what I'm telling you as the truth. Ok?
Since I've been a stage manager for 20 years now, or thereabouts anyway, I decided that I would compile a list of the Stuff I Want To See Happen when I am stage managing. Without further ado (and very little editing), here it is.
1) Pick up your own shit. What are you, 3 years old? In particular, throw away your nasty used Kleenex and makeup sponges, do you know how many germs *I* can get when I have to touch your manky crap? Throw it away, please, in the receptacles provided.
2) Don't lose your shit. Because when you lose your shit, you freak out, which makes everybody else freak out, which means that my job suddenly becomes less about getting the show on its legs and more about keeping everybody from suddenly having emotional issues. Not only that, but when I have to spend an extra hour in the theatre after everybody else has gone home, looking for your shit, I miss the party and get less sleep for tomorrow's show, which will not endear me to you.
3) Don't talk shit. I believe in open, painfully honest communication. If you try to go all passive-aggressive on me, I will sling it right back at you, except that I'll lose the 'passive' part first. Just tell me what you frickin' want, I don't have all day to stand around trying to translate your needs, particularly when there are 40 other people standing in line behind you.
4) Don't make shit up. If you're late for your call because you have the world's biggest hangover since 1923, let me know so that I can prepare you a raw egg, coffee, tabasco and Worchestershire sauce smoothie. If you can't make your call because you just got into a car accident, let me know so I can send somebody to go get you and bring you to the show. Or, alternatively, so that I can inform your understudy. DO NOT SAY 'Oh, I'll be there in 10 minutes'. That doesn't help. The only exception is if you really are going to show up in ten minutes. And I have a stopwatch, so I will know.
5) Tell me about your shit. If you're having a bad day, if you've got the mother of all colds, if your grandmother just died, please, let me know. It's my job to make sure your life during this show is as easy as possible so that you can do your job to the best of your ability without interruption. If you need a bit of a shoulder to cry on or somebody to listen while you have a cathartic rage moment, or a neddy pot and sea salt standing by every time you come off stage, that's what I'm there for.But you know what? I can't do all of that if you don't clue me in. So talk to me. Open your yap and tell me what's going on. I might not be your Facebook friend.
6) Don't leave shit backstage that's not supposed to be there. Other people besides you live back there. This is their world too, respect it. This includes ALL of your props (they have a home at the props table, make sure they get back there!!) cigarettes (lit, previously smoked, and unused), used and new cough drops, chewing gum (again, used or not) and condoms (yes, in any condition). This also includes purses, articles of clothing, books, car keys, cell phones, and other technological items. And speaking of technology . . .
7) Turn your shit off. This wasn't a problem back in the early 90's and previous decades but it is now. If you've got a laptop, put it in sleep mode. If you've got an Ipod, turn it off or mute the volume. If you've got a cell phone, put it on vibrate or leave it off all together, and if you're a doctor or lawyer or are otherwise on call, give the blasted thing to me so that *I* can keep a watch on it, because I guarantee you I will be better at that than you will tonight. I can run messages, and you can't, for example.
8) If you insist on wearing expensive shit to the theatre, like jewelry, give it to me while you are onstage. The stage manager's booth is locked, and I'm the only person that goes in there. There are thieves out there that specialize in getting backstage during a show in order to rob people blind of wallets and jewelry (wedding rings in particular tend to walk away). If you don't feel comfortable leaving your stuff backstage, I can take it. I have a box in the booth for this purpose. I will give your shit back to you at the end of the night.
9) Leave your shit at home. This rule is meant mostly for your emotional crap, although I'm pretty sure that I don't want to see your actual luggage either, particularly not if the dressing room is tiny and you have to share it. If you've done your best, and you just can't leave it outside of the theatre, see Rule #5. Please don't try to do your job when your shit has got you in its grip. At best, it's a distraction, and at worst, its an actual physical liability.
10) If I tell you to do shit, do it. Please don't bug me about it, whine, or snarl about what a bitch I am behind my back. Your director is counting on me to turn whatever vision he has that will make you look great into your reality. So please, when I give you a note, don't argue with me. When I ask you to do something, just do it. And don't do the classic little kid ploy of dividing and conquering. I am the director's mouthpiece, I say nothing that hasn't previously gotten approved by him or her. I do nothing without prior approval. I can't even think thoughts that deviate from the plan, for the duration of the show. It's not my opinion coming out of my mouth, it's the director's. Really. If you go to your director, complaining about what I told you, the chances are good that the reply you'll get is 'No, she's right, do what she says'. So save us all the time, because it is a precious commodity, and accept what I'm telling you as the truth. Ok?
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Spending Money
Yes, Gentle Readers, I am procrastinating going to bed. But I have news!
I bought my mandolin today! Go me. I also bought a hard drive for my laptop, which means no more cold noses and feet and fingers when I try to work in our office. Fish doesn't seem to mind the cold, but me? FREEZING.
This also means that I will be able to practice my instruments in the warm living room instead of here in the office, because I will be able to find my websites and so on with the laptop. No more cold winters. I am thrilled :)
I am so sorry you haven't heard from me in a while, Gentle Readers, it has taken me this long to recover from the Newfoundland Special cold.
I promise to keep writing as soon as something interesting happens in my life!
I bought my mandolin today! Go me. I also bought a hard drive for my laptop, which means no more cold noses and feet and fingers when I try to work in our office. Fish doesn't seem to mind the cold, but me? FREEZING.
This also means that I will be able to practice my instruments in the warm living room instead of here in the office, because I will be able to find my websites and so on with the laptop. No more cold winters. I am thrilled :)
I am so sorry you haven't heard from me in a while, Gentle Readers, it has taken me this long to recover from the Newfoundland Special cold.
I promise to keep writing as soon as something interesting happens in my life!
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
And, Suddenly . . .
Gentle Readers, one of my friends from the RenFest, Dave, a lovely person, used to have this as his email signature line: "Living with God's timing -- 'and, suddenly . . . ' and that's really how I feel right now.
24 hours ago life was good. Boring, predictable, but good. Nobody was hurt. Nobody was getting stoned. I wasn't required to spend emergency money.
That has all changed. Friend got hit by a car (but luckily, since the idiot car driver wasn't going fast, only bruises) as he was on his bicycle coming home from work, another friend is deliberately getting very drunk because she has tried her best for 2 years to help an anorexic and bulimic manic depressive teenager with cerebral palsy (yes, really) and was making no progress, now, finally, the teenager is in "professional hands", whatever that means, and my friend is getting drunk on the strength of it . . . I have no idea if this is a celebratory drunk or a trying-to-forget drunk, and I get to spend a lot of money tomorrow, but not really in a good way.
Remember my post about the hard drive and the laptop? Yeah, I get to do that tomorrow. I am letting the professionals deal with it. I only hope they don't take one look at me and try to gouge me to death.
Then I get to go to Target and spend lots of money on the meds that are keeping me alive, namely, my asthma meds and birth control. The BCP I take continuously due to the need for emotional regulation of my hormones, and the asthma meds, well . . . I like to breathe. Breathing is good, even if it is almost $100 a month in co-pays alone.
And finally, I get to spend hours at the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles, for you non Minnesotans) to get a duplicate driver's license, because as we all remember mine got snatched -- on a weekend -- 24 hours before I was billed to leave on an Amtrak for Michigan. Why am I just getting to it now? 'Cause I have been too sick to leave the house since the Great Big Sea concerts and the Shantyman's germs.
This is not how I wanted to spend the first day out of the house in almost 3 weeks. It's going to be a very long day, made longer by the fact that the people in my re-enactment group are now looking at me expectantly at every dance practice. I am not good enough yet. And yet, their expectations are insanely high. This is not Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. This is dance music from the 1600's, with wierd time signatures and odd keys and chords that switch every second, literally ('cause it's bouncy, fast paced dance music, not slow courtly pavanes), and it's just plain difficult. I have only been playing the guitar since mid August and people are starting to look at me like 'Oh, come ON, don't you know it YET?" NO, I haven't got it yet, it's only been 12 weeks, give me a break! If I'd been taking lessons we *might* have been up to Jingle Bells by now! Not fiendishly difficult dance music that I have never seen before, even if I have heard it for years. I don't even know what some of the chords are yet, much less am able to play them.
Sheesh. And dance practice is the end cap to my delightful sleep deprived, standing-in-line, fighting rush hour traffic day. Did I mention I have to go grocery shopping too? Yeah. And all of this has dropped in my lap in the last 12 hours. I can feel a headache starting above my bad eye. :(
24 hours ago life was good. Boring, predictable, but good. Nobody was hurt. Nobody was getting stoned. I wasn't required to spend emergency money.
That has all changed. Friend got hit by a car (but luckily, since the idiot car driver wasn't going fast, only bruises) as he was on his bicycle coming home from work, another friend is deliberately getting very drunk because she has tried her best for 2 years to help an anorexic and bulimic manic depressive teenager with cerebral palsy (yes, really) and was making no progress, now, finally, the teenager is in "professional hands", whatever that means, and my friend is getting drunk on the strength of it . . . I have no idea if this is a celebratory drunk or a trying-to-forget drunk, and I get to spend a lot of money tomorrow, but not really in a good way.
Remember my post about the hard drive and the laptop? Yeah, I get to do that tomorrow. I am letting the professionals deal with it. I only hope they don't take one look at me and try to gouge me to death.
Then I get to go to Target and spend lots of money on the meds that are keeping me alive, namely, my asthma meds and birth control. The BCP I take continuously due to the need for emotional regulation of my hormones, and the asthma meds, well . . . I like to breathe. Breathing is good, even if it is almost $100 a month in co-pays alone.
And finally, I get to spend hours at the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles, for you non Minnesotans) to get a duplicate driver's license, because as we all remember mine got snatched -- on a weekend -- 24 hours before I was billed to leave on an Amtrak for Michigan. Why am I just getting to it now? 'Cause I have been too sick to leave the house since the Great Big Sea concerts and the Shantyman's germs.
This is not how I wanted to spend the first day out of the house in almost 3 weeks. It's going to be a very long day, made longer by the fact that the people in my re-enactment group are now looking at me expectantly at every dance practice. I am not good enough yet. And yet, their expectations are insanely high. This is not Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. This is dance music from the 1600's, with wierd time signatures and odd keys and chords that switch every second, literally ('cause it's bouncy, fast paced dance music, not slow courtly pavanes), and it's just plain difficult. I have only been playing the guitar since mid August and people are starting to look at me like 'Oh, come ON, don't you know it YET?" NO, I haven't got it yet, it's only been 12 weeks, give me a break! If I'd been taking lessons we *might* have been up to Jingle Bells by now! Not fiendishly difficult dance music that I have never seen before, even if I have heard it for years. I don't even know what some of the chords are yet, much less am able to play them.
Sheesh. And dance practice is the end cap to my delightful sleep deprived, standing-in-line, fighting rush hour traffic day. Did I mention I have to go grocery shopping too? Yeah. And all of this has dropped in my lap in the last 12 hours. I can feel a headache starting above my bad eye. :(
Technology is Making Me Stupid
Yes, Gentle Readers, it's so. When it comes to technology, I am functionally illiterate. And this was illustrated to me as recently as this evening when my husband, Fish, and I tried to put the new hard drive (that I bought from Ebay, which I am still SURE is the right sort) into the new-to-me laptop.
It didn't work. I am still laptop-less. There is a picture on the top of the drive that suggests that this particular drive needs connection cables. Information recived via the 'Net says that we were trying to put it in the wrong space, as there ought to be a little metal sort of exoskeleton that the drive fits into, and that I haven't got. And didn't see.
*sigh*
Am I missing parts? Did we really try to put the hard drive somewhere where it doesn't belong? Do I really need connector cables? I don't have the answers to any of these questions.
This is why I am going to the Computer God store tomorrow (NOT Best Buy, for those of you who are wondering, there's a lovely independent computer parts and repair shop nearby that will help) and will willingly pay somebody else to get this blasted hard drive installed properly in the laptop.
Because I am a technological idiot.
It didn't work. I am still laptop-less. There is a picture on the top of the drive that suggests that this particular drive needs connection cables. Information recived via the 'Net says that we were trying to put it in the wrong space, as there ought to be a little metal sort of exoskeleton that the drive fits into, and that I haven't got. And didn't see.
*sigh*
Am I missing parts? Did we really try to put the hard drive somewhere where it doesn't belong? Do I really need connector cables? I don't have the answers to any of these questions.
This is why I am going to the Computer God store tomorrow (NOT Best Buy, for those of you who are wondering, there's a lovely independent computer parts and repair shop nearby that will help) and will willingly pay somebody else to get this blasted hard drive installed properly in the laptop.
Because I am a technological idiot.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
F is Dead
Well, Gentle Readers, I have just confirmed it. Despite what I wrote on Sean McCann's blog, where I am known as Whitewater, about the power of Yes and moving from can't to can, I am afraid I have found something I cannot do. And not for lack of trying, by the way!
But it is impossible, at least, I'm pretty sure it is. I have tried a number of different methods and I run into the same problem.
I cannot play an open F major chord on my acoustic dreadnought guitar. Please note how specific I am, when I say this. For all I know, maybe a 3/4 classical guitar or an electric guitar would work just fine. I am hoping that a mandolin's chords will be different enough for me to do it on that.
But on Babe? Forget it.
The trouble I'm having is that my hand and fingers simply aren't big/long enough to barre the 1st fret, as required, while *also* pressing the individual strings. I can barre the frets. I can do the individual strings. But I can't do that all at the same time. My right hand just isn't big enough.
Every time I barre *and* go for the other strings, I lose the barre. The more strings I try to get to, the more I have to stretch. And the more I stretch, the more my first finger slips. It's an ergonomic thing, based on the way fingers just naturally work.
If anybody out there has had this problem and knows how to solve it, feel free to comment. There's a lot of music that I won't be able to play on the guitar if I can't get this straightened out.
But it is impossible, at least, I'm pretty sure it is. I have tried a number of different methods and I run into the same problem.
I cannot play an open F major chord on my acoustic dreadnought guitar. Please note how specific I am, when I say this. For all I know, maybe a 3/4 classical guitar or an electric guitar would work just fine. I am hoping that a mandolin's chords will be different enough for me to do it on that.
But on Babe? Forget it.
The trouble I'm having is that my hand and fingers simply aren't big/long enough to barre the 1st fret, as required, while *also* pressing the individual strings. I can barre the frets. I can do the individual strings. But I can't do that all at the same time. My right hand just isn't big enough.
Every time I barre *and* go for the other strings, I lose the barre. The more strings I try to get to, the more I have to stretch. And the more I stretch, the more my first finger slips. It's an ergonomic thing, based on the way fingers just naturally work.
If anybody out there has had this problem and knows how to solve it, feel free to comment. There's a lot of music that I won't be able to play on the guitar if I can't get this straightened out.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Musings on Mandolins
So, Gentle Readers, I have decided. The time is now. I'm not getting any younger. It is time to pick up an instrument that I have always loved and always wanted to learn how to play -- the mandolin.
Yes, I'm going to buy a mandolin. This mandolin, to be precise: http://adirondackguitar.com/lefty/stagg/m20.htm -- now, please no comments on how terrible this thing is. I know it sucks. And I'm buying it anyway! That's what a $150 mandolin is for. It's a student instrument, designed specifically to get your feet wet. Nevertheless, I have read review after review in which people say they are stunned and surprised at how good this Stagg sounds, despite the cost and the cheap materials. And if it is as good as all that, I can use it as a cheap beater that can handle going to historic outdoor, all weather re-enactment camps . . . and I will also need something to play and learn on while I save up for this one, the mandolin that I have fallen in love with: http://adirondackguitar.com/lefty/morgan_monroe/mmr_1.htm
Please note the price differential. $1100 vs. $150. And the exceeding long list of materials and Stuff To Note with the Morgan Monroe mando, lol! (also the fact that this Morgan Monroe is also more money than a single one of my mortgage payments . . .)
Now, of course, the question on everybody's mind is, I'm sure, why a mandolin? Why two mandolins? And aren't you happy with your whistles and your guitar? Well . . . here are the answers that I've come up with.
A) I have loved the mandolin ever since I first heard it when I was a kid. But people have told me, also since I was a kid, that I would never be able to play stringed instruments. Obviously they were wrong, since I am learning the guitar just fine. What else were they wrong about? I admit it, I'm curious now! I love mandolin tunes, and bluegrass music, and Celtic music with a mandolin in the arrangements. Why not make a relatively cheap investment and see if I can play it? If I can, great, time to move up. If it turns out that I can't, well, at least I tried.
The other consideration is that a mandolin is more likely to be found in my historic re-enactor camp than a guitar. Back in the 17th century, guitars were for nobles, and not just any nobles, but wealthy ones. The Top of the Heap. They were rare, wildly expensive instruments. And they ALL looked like 3/4 parlor or classical guitars, not the modern full sized rock-and-roll dreadnought -- which is what I have.
My re-enactor group strives to be as historically accurate as possible, from what we wear to how we look, and I agree with that entirely. There is no point, so far as I'm concerned, to re-enacting history (real, actual, in the past history, not RenFaire type history) if you can't find the truth of it, whatever that truth happens to be. And the truth of the matter is that my regiment is made up mostly of dirt poor Scottish Highlanders, with the occasional middle or lower class Lowlander, Irishman, German, Swede, or Englishman in the mix. And nobody, but nobody, is wealthy enough to own a guitar. Not even the officers, who typically come from better backgrounds. Certainly neither of my characters! I've been getting away with it this past season because one of my characters owns a pawn shop, and she's been able to have a lot of stuff that the rest of the regiment wouldn't, everything from ready cash to pocket watches, to glasses, from pewter plates to silk skirts. And a guitar. All out of the pawn shop inventory! Her character helps bring balance to the Force, as it were, 'cause it helps our patrons see a well-rounded camp, not just the poor side of life. But I'd like to have something to play that doesn't look quite as modern as my blue acoustic dreadnought 6-string.
B) Yes, I love my guitar. The only way you're getting Babe away from me is to pry him out of my cold dead hands. I fully intend to keep learning, and keep practicing, and even, perhaps, join sessions at pubs and so on, to play modern music, and to do and learn everything that I can't do in the 17th century. I am female. And I rock. Well, I am going to rock, in the future :) I'm not going to give that up. And hey, I even rock left-handed, nothing like getting the whole 'wierd' trifecta :)
But since I started to learn to play, the question that's been rolling around in my head is, why limit myself to one instrument? Sure, I play the tin whistle, but I don't care enough about it to ever really be a great whistle player. Anyway, simply because of my asthma, woodwinds are never going to be my best instrument. But I love the mandolin. I love the sound of chop chords. I love all those strings, and I want to learn *why* they're all crammed on there. I love the look of a mandolin. I love its beautiful, sweet sound. And I want to expand my musical repertoire. Why limit myself? Why not play ALL the instruments that I love? I mean, The Chief Fool plays guitar and piano, and she's recently begun to show some interest in the mandolin too . . . another friend of mine plays the guitar and the mandolin. One of my musical heroes plays literally a dozen different instruments, or more. I know whole bands who have 4 or 5 people and 20 instruments! Why stick with one? Other people do it, so, why not?
C) why two? Because apparently, or so I have learned in my mandolin theory studies, what a mandolin is made of and how it is made really DOES make that big of a difference. Mandolins are apparently significantly less forgiving than other wooden instruments, like guitars, when it comes to how they're put together. Craftsmanship and the right materials really do determine the playability and the sound. Since I (eventually, given that I can actually play the cheapie) want the best mandolin I can get, that means paying for it. It's not like my guitar, which was only $500 and yet sounds just as good, almost, as some of the $2500 + guitars out there. (And can I just go off on a tangent here and say that I am continually, truly amazed at just HOW good my guitar's sound is? It matches perfectly with a custom $3200 guitar, for example, and holds its own in any folk recording. Any. And I only paid $500!!!)
Adirondack Guitar, the independent music shop where I found these lefty instruments, has a layaway program, which I am seriously considering. 20% down, then weekly or monthly payments. No interest. Gotta save for a canvas wall tent first, though, gotta have someplace to stay when re-enacting! However, the wall tent and all its accoutrements is a grand total of $375, so that shouldn't take too long. Given what I can put towards it every month, the timing should work out quite nicely.
As of this moment, the plan is to save this winter and summer for the tent, to have it by mid August of 2011. Then, put the deposit down for the Morgan Monroe in Sept of 2011, and finish paying for it over the next 12 months, and finally have it shipped to me in Sept. of 2012. That's about right, anyway, in terms of being a beginner at the mandolin, and not knowing enough etc to even make it necessary to have a good one for a while. I think a year to pay down the layaway is a reasonable time frame. And certainly, spending a year with my Stagg will give me the time I need to establish whether or not I will even need a good mando in the future.
In theory, I will have the basic beginner's Stagg instrument itself by (or around) Christmas of 2010, yes, this Christmas, in a few weeks. Straps and tuners and so on will come later. And I can find basic left-hand instructions on line, I've already looked. I am also in the process of finding a good luthier to 'set up' my Stagg, apparently this one really needs it in order to sound at all decent.I suppose I could do it myself, learn a bit of basic luthier skills, and save myself some money. There are instructions for that too, online! And I'd rather learn how to do it on a cheap instrument, rather than one that's more than a house payment.
I am excited about this. It just goes to show, one of the benefits of choosing 'can' over 'can't'.
Yes, I'm going to buy a mandolin. This mandolin, to be precise: http://adirondackguitar.com/lefty/stagg/m20.htm -- now, please no comments on how terrible this thing is. I know it sucks. And I'm buying it anyway! That's what a $150 mandolin is for. It's a student instrument, designed specifically to get your feet wet. Nevertheless, I have read review after review in which people say they are stunned and surprised at how good this Stagg sounds, despite the cost and the cheap materials. And if it is as good as all that, I can use it as a cheap beater that can handle going to historic outdoor, all weather re-enactment camps . . . and I will also need something to play and learn on while I save up for this one, the mandolin that I have fallen in love with: http://adirondackguitar.com/lefty/morgan_monroe/mmr_1.htm
Please note the price differential. $1100 vs. $150. And the exceeding long list of materials and Stuff To Note with the Morgan Monroe mando, lol! (also the fact that this Morgan Monroe is also more money than a single one of my mortgage payments . . .)
Now, of course, the question on everybody's mind is, I'm sure, why a mandolin? Why two mandolins? And aren't you happy with your whistles and your guitar? Well . . . here are the answers that I've come up with.
A) I have loved the mandolin ever since I first heard it when I was a kid. But people have told me, also since I was a kid, that I would never be able to play stringed instruments. Obviously they were wrong, since I am learning the guitar just fine. What else were they wrong about? I admit it, I'm curious now! I love mandolin tunes, and bluegrass music, and Celtic music with a mandolin in the arrangements. Why not make a relatively cheap investment and see if I can play it? If I can, great, time to move up. If it turns out that I can't, well, at least I tried.
The other consideration is that a mandolin is more likely to be found in my historic re-enactor camp than a guitar. Back in the 17th century, guitars were for nobles, and not just any nobles, but wealthy ones. The Top of the Heap. They were rare, wildly expensive instruments. And they ALL looked like 3/4 parlor or classical guitars, not the modern full sized rock-and-roll dreadnought -- which is what I have.
My re-enactor group strives to be as historically accurate as possible, from what we wear to how we look, and I agree with that entirely. There is no point, so far as I'm concerned, to re-enacting history (real, actual, in the past history, not RenFaire type history) if you can't find the truth of it, whatever that truth happens to be. And the truth of the matter is that my regiment is made up mostly of dirt poor Scottish Highlanders, with the occasional middle or lower class Lowlander, Irishman, German, Swede, or Englishman in the mix. And nobody, but nobody, is wealthy enough to own a guitar. Not even the officers, who typically come from better backgrounds. Certainly neither of my characters! I've been getting away with it this past season because one of my characters owns a pawn shop, and she's been able to have a lot of stuff that the rest of the regiment wouldn't, everything from ready cash to pocket watches, to glasses, from pewter plates to silk skirts. And a guitar. All out of the pawn shop inventory! Her character helps bring balance to the Force, as it were, 'cause it helps our patrons see a well-rounded camp, not just the poor side of life. But I'd like to have something to play that doesn't look quite as modern as my blue acoustic dreadnought 6-string.
B) Yes, I love my guitar. The only way you're getting Babe away from me is to pry him out of my cold dead hands. I fully intend to keep learning, and keep practicing, and even, perhaps, join sessions at pubs and so on, to play modern music, and to do and learn everything that I can't do in the 17th century. I am female. And I rock. Well, I am going to rock, in the future :) I'm not going to give that up. And hey, I even rock left-handed, nothing like getting the whole 'wierd' trifecta :)
But since I started to learn to play, the question that's been rolling around in my head is, why limit myself to one instrument? Sure, I play the tin whistle, but I don't care enough about it to ever really be a great whistle player. Anyway, simply because of my asthma, woodwinds are never going to be my best instrument. But I love the mandolin. I love the sound of chop chords. I love all those strings, and I want to learn *why* they're all crammed on there. I love the look of a mandolin. I love its beautiful, sweet sound. And I want to expand my musical repertoire. Why limit myself? Why not play ALL the instruments that I love? I mean, The Chief Fool plays guitar and piano, and she's recently begun to show some interest in the mandolin too . . . another friend of mine plays the guitar and the mandolin. One of my musical heroes plays literally a dozen different instruments, or more. I know whole bands who have 4 or 5 people and 20 instruments! Why stick with one? Other people do it, so, why not?
C) why two? Because apparently, or so I have learned in my mandolin theory studies, what a mandolin is made of and how it is made really DOES make that big of a difference. Mandolins are apparently significantly less forgiving than other wooden instruments, like guitars, when it comes to how they're put together. Craftsmanship and the right materials really do determine the playability and the sound. Since I (eventually, given that I can actually play the cheapie) want the best mandolin I can get, that means paying for it. It's not like my guitar, which was only $500 and yet sounds just as good, almost, as some of the $2500 + guitars out there. (And can I just go off on a tangent here and say that I am continually, truly amazed at just HOW good my guitar's sound is? It matches perfectly with a custom $3200 guitar, for example, and holds its own in any folk recording. Any. And I only paid $500!!!)
Adirondack Guitar, the independent music shop where I found these lefty instruments, has a layaway program, which I am seriously considering. 20% down, then weekly or monthly payments. No interest. Gotta save for a canvas wall tent first, though, gotta have someplace to stay when re-enacting! However, the wall tent and all its accoutrements is a grand total of $375, so that shouldn't take too long. Given what I can put towards it every month, the timing should work out quite nicely.
As of this moment, the plan is to save this winter and summer for the tent, to have it by mid August of 2011. Then, put the deposit down for the Morgan Monroe in Sept of 2011, and finish paying for it over the next 12 months, and finally have it shipped to me in Sept. of 2012. That's about right, anyway, in terms of being a beginner at the mandolin, and not knowing enough etc to even make it necessary to have a good one for a while. I think a year to pay down the layaway is a reasonable time frame. And certainly, spending a year with my Stagg will give me the time I need to establish whether or not I will even need a good mando in the future.
In theory, I will have the basic beginner's Stagg instrument itself by (or around) Christmas of 2010, yes, this Christmas, in a few weeks. Straps and tuners and so on will come later. And I can find basic left-hand instructions on line, I've already looked. I am also in the process of finding a good luthier to 'set up' my Stagg, apparently this one really needs it in order to sound at all decent.I suppose I could do it myself, learn a bit of basic luthier skills, and save myself some money. There are instructions for that too, online! And I'd rather learn how to do it on a cheap instrument, rather than one that's more than a house payment.
I am excited about this. It just goes to show, one of the benefits of choosing 'can' over 'can't'.
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