I.) My brother-in-law wanted to be sure to give me something meaningful, something useful as well as thoughtful, and so his gift to me was....a free-standing toilet paper holder.
He even included a free roll of paper, with the end folded over into the little triangle and sealed with a sticker like they do in hotels.
Honest.
II.) As I was preparing to leave, my father turned to the Christmas tree and pulled off a handful of candy canes, handing them to my brother, my brother-in-law, and I. When we collectively did the RCA dog (head tilted to the side with a quizzical expression), he explained thus:
"Your grandmother-my mother-would always have candy canes on her Christmas trees, and no guest was allowed to leave without taking one with them, as a little token of their holiday visit."
I was incredibly touched--dad had never told us this story before, not being one to talk about his past, and it was a very sweet and sentimental bit of family history....
....until it occurred to me that grandma Helene was Jewish.
RM
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Please move on...nothing to see here....
I should blog.
I should be posting real stuff here. You know, meaningful stuff. Heartfelt, touching, moving, insightful....stuff.
I want to be a writer...right? This would be the logical place to practice that....right?
I am woefully bad at keeping up with regular updates (in case you hadn't noticed). I had every intention of being a regular fucking fount of information about what it's like to be a professional chorister...you know, the seamy underbelly of classical music....sort of the "mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be singers" cautionary tales to scare the bejeezus out of all you little 'Glee'-besotted types who think it would just be the shiznit to sing in choruses all day for a living.
And yet, perhaps it is NOT the best idea to do so after three (large. really large. HUGE.) glasses of old vine zinfandel.
And so I shan't.
Good night.
RM
I should be posting real stuff here. You know, meaningful stuff. Heartfelt, touching, moving, insightful....stuff.
I want to be a writer...right? This would be the logical place to practice that....right?
I am woefully bad at keeping up with regular updates (in case you hadn't noticed). I had every intention of being a regular fucking fount of information about what it's like to be a professional chorister...you know, the seamy underbelly of classical music....sort of the "mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be singers" cautionary tales to scare the bejeezus out of all you little 'Glee'-besotted types who think it would just be the shiznit to sing in choruses all day for a living.
And yet, perhaps it is NOT the best idea to do so after three (large. really large. HUGE.) glasses of old vine zinfandel.
And so I shan't.
Good night.
RM
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
A Public Service Announcement
While using a Neti pot, it is generally not a good idea to sneeze, if one can help it.
You're welcome.
RM
You're welcome.
RM
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