John and Jane

Perhaps you have wondered about the current occupation of the fetching couple (I call them "John and Jane") that we first met selling Folger's coffee, later to be found spreading Country Crock upon their muffins. Well, wonder no longer -- I've found them! Apparently, John is a frequent flyer with a penchant for ball-games (though I'm not sure what type), and Jane rents cars on occasion. If you ever have the opportunity to be on hold with Travelocity for thirty to forty-five minutes, you too can be caught up on the further adventures of John and Jane.

John, you see, has a Big Game the same weekend that he planned to travel to New York. Jane doesn't know how to check for business e-mails in her junk e-mail folder. John has a rental car that he isn't certain how to cancel, and poor Jane is trying to figure out whether or not she can take her embroidery scissors on the plane. (Actually, John's no help at all on that one -- he tells her to check the website!) Oh, the adventures of the upper-middle class! How will they ever get out of this one? Will John make it to the Big Game? Will Jane lose her embroidery scissors to airport security? Sadly, we may never know. Perhaps we should bring them muffins and coffee to loosen their tongues!

Phun phor Physics Pholk

Paraphrased from whatever physics text UK is using:

There are two fellows playing hockey. Let's call them Ezekial and Japeth, for simplicity's sake (the text doesn't give them any names at all, which tends to make things a little more confusing). Ezekial is standing around with the puck between his feet, when Japeth swings by (at a steady 12 m/s) and takes it from him. After three seconds, Ezekial decides to give chase. He accelerates at a rate of four m/ss.

The text asks: How far does Ezekial travel before catching Japeth? How long does it take?

I ask: Why does Ezekial so generously give Japeth a 36 meter head start? Why, when Japeth observes that Ezekial has finally sprung into action, does he not accelerate in response? Knowing that hockey is strictly a team sport, where is everybody else? Why don't they get involved? Perhaps they are all busy yelling at Ezekial for letting Japeth steal the puck in the first place. Finally, what does Ezekial plan to do when he finally catches his opponent?

So many important questions -- so little time. :)

A Quandary

What do you do when a good friend is trapped in the same sort of prison you just escaped? There are no words that would be helpful, there is no action I can take. How is it right for me to be superbly content in my new life, while my friend is so thoroughly downtrodden? Life, as we all know well, is simply not fair. I am no more deserving of my joy than my friend is of her sorrow, yet there we stand. My heart breaks for her, I taste the bitterness of her sadness and despair. And I'm completely unable to help.

If I'm ever tempted to scorn the joys and blessings that surround me today, let me remember the chains that once bound me.

Numbers

This is going to be a very interesting semester. I'm not, as I had planned, taking counterpoint this semester (shucks!) due to my own incompetence in reading a schedule book. Rather, I'm taking an advanced post-tonal analysis class. Yeah. Post-tonal. Really, I'm a pretty tonal girl, when it comes right down to it. We jumped in the first day with both feet -- set theory! Woo-hoo! Actually, the rest of the class jumped in the first day; I was still sorting out my schedule, so I gave them a head start. Really good planning, especially since I DON'T KNOW BEANS ABOUT SET THEORY!!!

Anyway. I've always preferred to let my math be math and my music be music, and never the twain shall meet. So my approach to set theory, in which "music" is created by permuting a series of numbers, is strictly mathematical. I enjoy permuting series of numbers; it's the idea that they then make "music" that holds me back. So I'm simply ignoring the aural aspect of the whole thing and becoming a mathematical analyst. And that's really fun! Playing with numbers is so much like playing Bach; there's so much going on, so many little tangles to deal with, that my normally chaotic musician's brain gets all sorted out somehow. This is the part of my brain that loves physics and patterns and logic puzzles. This is the part of me that took the Mensa test just for fun. This part of me is really glad to have the chance to come out and play.

Thanks, B., for twisting my arm to take this class! I still don't like Webern, but the sets are great. And yes, I'll help you with your homework.

Back in the Saddle Again

Did you ever wonder what it was like for cattle men just starting out on a drive? I can imagine it...

After the frenzied days of round-up, breaking in new men and horses, cattle all fat and sassy from their days of freedom, the routine begins to form. The first few days of a drive must be a bit of a shock -- the schedule arduous, the physical demands considerable. There is the mix of new faces and old, the conflict between old habits and fresh ideas. The daily grind may be filled with drudgery, but it's your own specific brand of drudgery. This is your job, what you do, out under the sun or in the pouring rain. There's the freedom of the open range partnered with the structure of hard work. Even being saddle sore and exhausted feels somehow satisfying, because this is what these days are for. And you know your body will toughen up again, you'll grow accustomed to the changes and comfortable with the routine once more. It's good to have a job to do.

It feels good to me to be back in my own saddle. My vacation was fairly busy; beyond a couple days that were, frankly, absolute laziness, things were happily frenzied. There were To-Dos to do, friends and family to see, practicing to get done. But the structure of my days was largely of my own making. To be back in class, meeting T at the gym before dawn, practicing, teaching, doing dishes -- my job, what I do. I'm tired, of course -- I'd forgotten how early 4:30 can feel! But I'll toughen up again, grow accustomed to the changes. It's good to have a job to do in my own little corner.