You've been Rickroll'd

I was delighted, this long weekend morning, to discover that a new internet meme has been brewing right under my nose. "Rickrolling" refers to posting a link to a YouTube video, with the link unexpectedly leading to a Rick Astley video.

Human Jukebox

I started piano lessons when I was in Grade 4, and continued until the end of Grade 12, at which point I was spending more time doing homework (or avoiding it) and hanging out with boyfriend (now fiancé) than practicing. I finished my exams, completing both my Grade 8 Practical (playing) and writing my Grade 2 Rudiments (theory), which gave standing in Grade 8 Practical. Big deal, right?

I'm proud of those achievements, but when I'm at a party with a piano and people find out I play, they don't want to hear chromatic scales. They don't want to hear Sonatinas in X Major or Beethoven's nth Symphony. And really, I don't want them to show me that they know how to play Heart and Soul, for the zillionth time in my life.

They want to hear November Rain, or some other inane hit. I don't know it. I can pull out the first 30 seconds of the Peanuts theme, which is usually enjoyable. I only know it because I had a copy of the music, an easy version in C. It's actually in A-flat, so I was able to transpose a little. People want to hear something they recognize and possibly love. For example, my sister's friend can play many of the major themes from Mario and Zelda and other games, and he was a giant hit at that party we had last summer.

I just noticed that Wiki lists well-known music in A-flat, and probably all the other keys too. This is incredible to me, because I don't have a great ear for figuring out chords (like the rest of the world, judging by the popularity of tablature webpages). By fiddling around the keyboard I can usually figure out the melody, but I get a little muddled around chords. I also have terrible rhythm, a notorious problem with amature players, but that's a story for another day.

To conclude, in part due to my willingness to impress at parties, in part due to my attempt to tone down my miserly nature, and in part because I figured out the melody to the Final Countdown but I still want the chording, I was at Long & McQuade last night and I went for it. This book has Word Up by Cameo. CAMEO.

Now I'm a little miffed after some research at finding out I could have saved $15 by buying it online at Amazon. I don't even want to buy books at stores anymore. Anyway, I plan to get a lot of enjoyment out of the book. Much more so than the Hilary Duff songbook we pulled out of L&M's dumpster last summer, along with a pile of guitar magazines and the Trouble at the Henhouse musicbook.

De-carbo-n-ation

Musicians are doing their thing, as per usual. The recycled guitar string earrings are too cute.

Chemists are also doing their thing, inventing packaging that can biodegrade. I find it funny that the article mentions McDonalds was still using styrofoam containers in North America until about 1990.

A number of years ago, I participated in the Great Canadian Shoreline Cleanup, facilitated by a friend taking the same program at university. We picked up trash (sorting out the recyclables) along the treed banks of the campus, more of a pre-shoreline cleanup - removing trash before it ended up in the river. I recall finding a few styrofoam Big Mac containers, in near pristine condition, along with countless plastic bags, a rusted oil drum, a lawn chair suspiciously close to a pair of underwear, and chip bag upon chip bag. I registered to do the Cleanup at a different location last fall, but the Cleanup leader never got back to me with an exact location to meet, so I didn't end up participating. If anyone out there wants to help me scrounge up a team for next September, maybe we can lead a clean-up. This stuff looks great on your resume, kids.

Barenaked & sleeping

I saw the Barenaked Ladies last night in concert, thanks to some comp tickets from my lovely middle sister. I heavily admire the eco-village they had going on, not to mention you can buy their CDs, as well as recordings of their shows 20 minutes after they end, on USB sticks.

On a side note, I was delighted to learn that my habit of napping is good for me. Hooray!