Sunday, February 27, 2011

Need Advice

Every week at church we sing a closing hymn. Then someone says a closing prayer. Then I start to play the postlude music on the organ and people stand up and wander and visit and get ready to go home (we have Sacrament meeting last).

Then along comes Brother Hadrian (that's not his real name, in case you couldn't guess).

Brother Hadrian is our high councilor, and he likes to talk. To me. While I play postlude. Why? I haven't the slightest idea.

Let me just mention here that I don't normally like when people talk to me while I am playing the organ. I like to use prelude and postlude as a chance to practice using the pedals, since the music is more open to a freer rhythmical interpretation (i.e., I can pause while I shuffle my feet around). Basically it's my only practice time on the organ, these few minutes before and after the meeting, so when people talk to me it is distracting. Most people, however, are cognizant of the fact that I'm trying to concentrate, so they keep their comments to a sentence or two, and I am not thrown off too much.

Not so with Brother Hadrian. As I said, the man likes to talk, and he does. He talks about anything and everything: old memories, anecdotes from work, places around the city, and who knows what else. Whatever pops into his head. He also asks me questions as if we were conversing face to face, rather than that I'm playing the organ and he is standing (very uncomfortably close but not socially unacceptably close) next to the organ bench.

This is all very disturbing.

The last time Brother Hadrian did this, I followed Mother Edit's suggestion: I stopped playing and turned full-on to face him. Unfortunately, I was at the end of a hymn anyway, so it didn't have the desired effect, and actually, I don't know that he would even notice if I stopped playing a hymn right in the middle. He doesn't strike me as the type of man who would be bothered much by an unresolved Dominant Seventh (shudder).

So now the question: what should I do?

Should I try Mother Edit's solution some more--stop playing when he starts talking--and see what happens? Should I just ignore him? Should I talk to the bishop?

Honestly, this man is making me dread the end of church every single week.


Wednesday, February 16, 2011

The Problem With The Cocky Pedestrian

The problem with the cocky pedestrian is that s/he never takes into account the unknown. It is true that, at the constant rate I am going, and at the constant rate you are going, you will finish your mosey across the street just before I reach that spot. However, what if you were to trip and fall? What then?

Or what if I had to speed up to make it through the light? (note I did not say "run a red light", just "make it through the light")

Or, what if a car turned a corner and didn't see you?

What if, while crossing at a crosswalk as the light turned green for the opposing traffic, one car's view was blocked by a truck, and it sped forward as you walked in front of it?

What if you dropped something? Like a cell phone?*

What if a car flipped a U-ey the same moment you stepped off the curb?

A million different things could happen in just a split second. And then if I hit you, it would just become another statistic that encourages Utahns to plaster "HEADS UP" signs onto Trax cars and buses and billboards, alerting automobile drivers to look out for idiot pedestrians.

Here are some signs I would like to see:

"You're a pedestrian. Quit texting and cross the street."

"Pedestrian vs. car: can you guess who will win? Don't step in front of  traffic."

"Motorcycles: obey the laws so cars can 'start seeing you.' "

"Everyone: don't be a jerk-face."

Ok, now I'm just griping, aren't I?

The end.

*I did once see someone drop their cell phone down by the Trax train as the doors opened for him to get on. It wasn't his fault: the phone fell on the sidewalk and skidded off the edge. I could see him as he struggled with wanting to save it versus not getting his arm ripped off by the train. He chose to stay put, and as the train started to move again, we heard a sad crunch. At least it wasn't his hand, right?

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

To Fit Into A Swimsuit

In April I am going to Hawaii. It's my first time, so I'm getting excited. The bad news is that I am pretty sure my swim trunks are not going to fit me anymore. My swimsuit is fine, as I just bought it last year, but the shorts... not going to happen.

Yesterday my friend offered me a cookie. I'd had three already (they were small, ok?), but everyone knows that while 3 cookies is perfectly ok to eat if you're trying to slim down, 4 cookies is just too many. So I declined, saying, "No, I'm trying to actually fit into my swimsuit when I go to Hawaii."

"Oh," she said, "You know what you should do?"

"What?" I asked. I hoped she was going to tell me that one weird old tip to flatten your belly that all the websites advertise but I never can find out.

"Buy a new swimsuit," she said.


She went to Hawaii last year, so I guess I can trust her advice.

Time for new swim trunks!

P.S. I've gone swimming with swim trunks since junior high, so going trunkless is not an option.