intense

Worldly Wednesday: “Dabka,” Assyrian/Iraqi Folk Dance

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This is an old “line stomp” dance from northern Iraq – part of the ancient Assyrian empire.

The Assyrian Empire

The Assyrian Empire

The Assyrian empire stretched across Israel, parts of Egypt, Lebanon, Jordan, Syria, Turkey, Iran, Iraq, and Saudi Arabia.  The empire took its name from its original capital, the ancient city of Aššur, in what is now the Salah Al Din province of northern Iraq.  It existed as an independent entity for nineteen centuries – from roughly 2500 BC to 605 BC.  For the next thirteen centuries, until the about 650 AD, it was ruled predominantly by foreign powers, thus giving rise to a number of neo-Assyrian states within the borders of the empire.  The empire fell to the Arab Islamic invasion in the mid-7th century AD.

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It can be hard for westerns – especially Americans – to remember that Iraq existed before 1991, or 2003, or 2014.  It has existed for thousands of years and been part of one of the richest civilizations the world has ever know.  Now more than ever is it important to remember this, as ISIS pushes through parts of Iraq that used to be Assyrian.

Source: Washington Post

Source: Washington Post

Throwback Thursday: “Fanfare for the Common Man,” Aaron Copland

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No matter how many times you listen to this, it never fails to stir the blood.  It’s amazing how such a simple melody can have such power.  The tide is finally turning for some good friends of mine who have been a funk, so I send this out to them.

I also have to send this out to our boys in Brazil who play Germany today.  I’m fully versed in the esoteric soccer rules that render today’s game one of the many scenarios in which the U.S. team makes it into the group of 16, but still.  I can’t not post a piece rooting for a win.  To all of my German readers: Es tut mir leid, aber ich muss mein Land unterstützen. Sie haben ein außergewöhnliches Team und ich wünsche Ihnen viel Glück. Mögen die Besten gewinnen.

Termagant Tuesday: “Hora Decubitus,” Charles Mingus

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You know what’s really fun, Tune-Up fans?  Really curl-your-socks, better-than-pancakes fun?

Spending four hours on the phone with Sears customer service.  YOLO. 

Actually, I need to back up.  This was an actual saga.  This whole thing was cursed from the start.  First of all, I made the mistake, ten years ago, of moving to Washington, D.C.  For those of you who have never visited, let alone lived here, it is habitable for, collectively, fifteen days out of the year.  Beginning in late May and petering out in mid-October, it is brain-bendingly hot and humid.  It’s like the rain forest with more food options but fewer parrots.

But no point dwelling on the past.  I moved here.  I stayed here.  I will doggedly continue to stay here, idiot that I am.  But to do that, I need an apartment that is cool.  For that to happen, I need window unit air conditioners.  “Easy peasy,” said I!  I ordered one from online from Sears.  (Let me say that again.  I ordered it online.  This will come up again later.)  A few days later, it was delivered.  Excellent!

Except not excellent.  Not even remotely excellent.  It was delivered, alright – to my old address.  My old address is a quick ten minute walk away, if unencumbered by a 78-pound metal box filled with toxic coolant.  So I had to figure out a way to get it out from inside the apartment of the woman to whom it had been delivered (and who had taken possession of it without notifying the super, which was a little weird, but that’s neither here nor there).  Thanks to the ministrations and car and forbearance and arm strength and all round good-person-ness of Mr. Yankette, I got it out of the old apartment, into the elevator, down the stairs, into the car, down the street, around the corner, up the stairs, into the elevator, and into my new apartment.

Just in time for the installation guys (who charge about a hundred dollars) to arrive.  Phew!  

Except not phew.  Installation Man did his groovy installation thing, popped it in, screwed it to the window, caulked the gaps, turned it on, and *beep!* went the air conditioner.  It might as well have been programmed to say, “Hello!  I am an expensive piece of equipment and am programmed to disappoint!  I have a hidden camera to record the number of times and different ways you will fiddle with my wires and read my instruction manual and after you’ve collapsed in tears I will send the tape electronically to my manufacturer for the company’s blooper reel!  It’s a real hit at our holiday party!”

The air conditioner blew hot air.  That’s all it did.  It looked very pretty blowing hot air – like so many humans – but hot air was not what was required.  “$%&!,” said I.  So I did what anyone with an as-yet-unmaxed credit card and a grudge does: called an independent third party to verify the results.  So two hours and two phone calls later, Verifier Man shows up.  “Yep,” said he, “you got a dud.”  He urged me to call Sears and get them to fix the problem.  “But it’s not going to be easy – they’re going to fight you on this one.”

Tell me, O muse, of the ingenious air conditioner repair man who warned the unsuspecting client of the vagaries of Sears customer service, before the death of charity and reason.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to identify the correct number, amongst the fourteen options provided, to dial in order to tell a company their product is defective?  It turns out they really don’t make it easy for you to do that.  Amazing.  Anyway, I found the general customer service hotline and three minutes later, I got a human.  I explained to the human my situation.  The human sympathized in a pre-programmed way and transferred me to their online purchases department.  After four minutes on hold, I spoke to Online Purchases Department Human.  Online Purchases Department Human said that she can’t find my records online but since it got installed today she would transfer me to the installation department.  “What?  Why?”  “Hold please.”  “What – …okay.”

The installation department now had the con.  After a five minute wait on hold, I got another human.  I explain to the Installation Department Human my situation.  The human sympathized in the most believable way out of everyone I spoke with over the course of these four hours – but, because life loves irony more than the French, was absolutely unmoved in helping me solve the problem.  Here was the problem.  You ready for this?  This was awesome.

Even though I bought my air conditioner online, I had to bring it into the store to get it repaired.  Why?  Because it crossed the “weight threshold” below which electronic items are considered too puny and unimportant to send someone out to deal with.  Never mind my air conditioner weighed 78 pounds, that I had no car, and that, even if it were four pounds and I had a jet pack, that rationale made absolutely no sense at all.  This human: unmoved.  She urged me to call a Sears store and tell them about the problem.

So, I did.  I called a Sears store.  The line was busy.  I redialed.  The line was busy.  I redialed eight times.  The line rang.  I told Sears Store Man the problem and what Installation Department Human had said.  Sears Store Man’s reaction?  “That’s insane.  Call this number.”  The number I got?

The “customer solutions” number.

I went back to the Sears website and could not find this number anywhere which only makes sense if you are actively against providing solutions for your customers.  The plot thickened.

I called customer solutions, and after a seven minute wait (you see how this works? the closer to Olympus, the steeper the climb), I got Customer Solutions Human.  I explained the situation.  Customer Solutions Human said that because I ordered it online (yes!) I would have to be transferred to the Online Purchasing Department (what?!  no!  crap!  not them again!  I have so many plans for the rest of my life!) but in case that didn’t work, here was the number for…wait for it…

Online Customer Solutions.

WHAT.

So I was transferred back to the Online Purchasing Department.  Which is when I met Cody.  Cody is a real, honest to god, human.  Cody is not Online Purchasing Department Human.  Cody is like me – he has hopes and dreams, likes and dislikes, and a healthy respect for the uses of freon and time.  Cody got me.  I spent 53 minutes and 17 seconds on the phone with Cody.  Here is roughly a transcript of what happened after I described the problem.

Me: “So, how can I solve this problem?”

Cody: “Well, let me pull up your records and take a look.  Would you mind if I put you on a brief hold?”

Me: “Sure, go ahead.”

— doooo dooddoe n doot dee dooo…—

Cody: “I can’t find any record of your online purchase, which is weird.”

Me: “That is weird.”

Cody: “Can I have your order number?”

Me: “Yep.  It’s **********.”

Cody: “Thanks.  Would you mind if I put you on a brief hold?”

Me: “Sure, go ahead.”

— doooo dooddoe n doot dee dooo…—

Cody: “Thanks for waiting.  Here is it.  So here’s the problem: because the AC was picked up at a warehouse and delivered by UPS, that’s why they told you you’d have to bring it back to a Sears store.”

Me: “Wait…isn’t that what always happens?  With literally everything you sell online?  UPS picks it up from a warehouse and brings it to the person who ordered it?”

Cody: “Yep.”

Me: “So…if this is standard operating procedure, how is this a problem?  Because I wouldn’t have to pull my fridge from the wall, rent a truck, put it in a truck, and drive it to a store to get it fixed.”

Cody: “Yeah…that’s true…  Would you mind if I put you on a brief hold?”

Me: “Sure, go ahead.”

— doooo dooddoe n doot dee dooo…—

Cody: “Thanks for waiting.  So I spoke to the installation department and the online services department, and I’m sending someone to uninstall the unit for you, for free, and once that’s done, give me a call, and I’ll have UPS come pick it up for you.  How’s that?”

Me: “That’s great, Cody, thanks a lot.”

Cody: “You bet.”

God bless you, Cody, wherever and whoever you are.

And now, since that all took up half of my work day, I will now go about doing the work I had to do during the daylight hours before I go to sleep tonight.  Which, in fact, is what “hora decubitus” means in Latin.  (See?  I always tie it together.)

SHAME WEEK! Throwback Thursday: “Un Bel Di,” OperaBabes

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Talk about gilding the lily.  The original aria is delicate and tender and completely heartbreaking in the context of the story.

The OperaBabes (seriously, that’s their name) version is mindless elevator music.  It was part of a mix CD I got during a summer semester in college.  I didn’t know much about the original opera, let alone the story, and, being totally addicted to rhythm then as I am now, I thought it was really catchy and great exercise music.  And then years passed and I heard the story behind Madame Butterfly and had an excellent “facepalm” moment.

Worldly Wednesday: “Ghost Trains,” Erlend Øye

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The beat of the first few seconds of this song just kills me.  It’s like a very Euro-flavored disco version of Dr. Who.  Erlend Øye is a great pop artist from Norway who has been part of a number of other bands (remember Royksopp?  Remember their song “Poor Leno?”  Yep, that was Erlend.  Ever hear of The Whitest Boy Alive?  Erlend.).  His voice is like soy milk – very smooth, pretty devoid of flavor, but surprisingly tasty.

Throwback Thursday: “Miri It Is While Sumer Ilast,” Anonymous

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Hooray, climate change!  Thanks for making the temperatures hurl themselves from the 90s to the 50s in the space of a day!  Miri it is that we might get to look forward to bizarro-world weather swings like this as our new normal, and the phrase “wardrobe-planning” take on a new scope.  I don’t own a car and already judicious with my energy usage at home, so I’m not sure what more I can do reduce my carbon footprint that wouldn’t equally reduce my living standards to those of our friendly English composer “Anonymous” in 1225.  But at least I’d have pretty songs to sing.

—

Miri it is while sumer ilast with fugheles song, oc nu
neheth windes blast and weder strong. ei ei what this
niht is long. and ich with wel michel wrong, soregh and
murn and fast.

Merry it is while summer lasts with the song of birds; 
but now draws near the wind’s blast and harsh weather. 
Alas, Alas! How long this night is! And I, most unjustly, 
sorrow and mourn and fast.

Worldly Wednesday: “The Woodpile,” Frightened Rabbit

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It’s been a long time coming, but I finally feel settled in some sort of groove these days.  This is in no way synonymous with phrases like, “of course I know what I’m doing,” “please ask me for directions and/or advice,” or “I’d love to tell you where I’m going to be in five years.”  Rather, what I mean is, I know what to do when catastrophe strikes, when I don’t know how to cook a squash, when my faucet is leaking, when I need to go to the E.R., when I’ve had a terrible day, and when things upset me.  I call one of my people.  That’s what I do.

You spend most of your 20s constructing yourself.  Somewhere around age 29 or 30 you have a sense of deep satisfaction that comes from having a fuller grasp of who you are and what you’re about.  And then you spend a good part of your 30s realizing that, to paraphrase President Obama, you didn’t build yourself alone.  You had a lot of help.  I know how to deal with the E.R. on a rainy Tuesday because a friend came with me when I hurt my knee.  I know how to process my terrible thoughts because I have friends who listen to them.  I know how to deal with the vagaries of my job because I have peers who can relate and tell me stories that remind me of my own issues.  Creating your own family is the very best part of growing up.

—

Far from the electric floor
Removed from the red meat market
I look for a fire door
An escape from the drums and barking
Bereft of all social charms
Struck dumb by the hand of fear
I fall into the corner’s arms
The same way that I’ve done for years
I’m trapped in a collapsing building


Come find me now, we’ll hide and
We’ll speak in our secret tongues
Will you come back to my corner?
Spent too long alone tonight
Would you come brighten my corner?
A lit torch to the woodpile (aye)


Dead wood needs to ignite
There’s no spark on a dampened floor
A snapped limb in an unlit pyre
Won’t you come and break down this door?
I’m trapped in an abandoned building


Come find me now, we’ll hide and
We’ll speak in our secret tongues
Will you come back to my corner?
Spent too long alone tonight
Would you come brighten my corner?
A lit torch to the woodpile (aye)
Come find me now, we’ll hide and
We’ll speak in our secret tongues

 

Throwback Thursday: “Symphony No. 9,” Ludwig Van Beethoven

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Beethoven wrote some of the most famous “first few notes” in the history of music.  The beginning of the first and second movements are definitely among those.  But that’s not why I’m posting this.  You already know all of this.

I’m posting this because of Maestro Paavo Järvi and the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen.  Järvi is famously devoted to Beethoven’s original tempo markings, which are quite faster than how modern conductors usually take his works.  Such speed with a two-bit orchestra would make this music sound sloppy and muddy.  But the DKB produces razor-sharp, gloriously precise phrasing.

If you want to enjoy this properly, make this video full screen and watch the orchestra.  The entire collective is at the top of their game.  They are throwing everything they have into the notes.  The cellist at 0:28.  The violinist at 0:39.  Järvi himself from 1:28-:136.  They are an army of music, and it is glorious.  Because here’s the thing: the 9th is standard orchestra fare.  These people have played this hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of times before.  But in this recording, in this video, it’s like they’ve just been rehearsing their whole lives. This is their first real performance.  It’s one of the most exhilarating things I’ve seen in ages.

Worldly Wednesday: “Tango Fugata,” Astor Piazzolla

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I’m about to head into three days of mostly day-long meetings and I am fully anticipating that they will be feel and sound like this, one of my favorite pieces by Argentine tango genius, Astor Piazzolla.  Put a group of fun, smart, interesting people together in a room, give them a cool topic and a lot of coffee, and watch them go.  Nothing better.