I Can't Explain ...

I am a musicologist. Granted, an amateur musicologist ... but a musicologist nevertheless.

Why amateur? Well, if I was a professional musicologist I'd know a lot more about music. As a professional, I like to think I would be teaching somewhere or at least have some sort of music degree. I do not.

Still, I consider myself such. Because I know a lot about music. Artists, bands, members, theory, titles, lyrics, trivia, eras, trends, history.

The thing about music, however, is there's always more to learn, so much more to glean. (Note: Did you see that? That was a proper use of the word "always." See yesterday's post.) In fact, there's so much musical knowledge out there it's impossible to absorb and know all there is about the subject.

Still ... I know a lot. 

Yesterday, though, I came across a couple musical items I did not know, a few exacting details in fact.


I was reading an article about Jimmy Page (member of The Yardbirds, founder and guitarist of Led Zeppelin) when I happened across an item that surprised me. It came out of the blue, as surprise information often does: Page played rhythm guitar on The Who's "I Can't Explain." Now, I knew he had a history of session work but I don't mind admitting I was a bit gobsmacked by the revelation about this particular item of news. If I was a bigger fan of The Who, or had previously delved into more of the history of Page himself, I probably would have known this news a long, long time ago. But the fact I wasn't and didn't gave me a head tilt at the discovery. A nice little nugget of information there. Interestingly, I also noted there is some question as to whether or not Page was actually included playing rhythm guitar on that seminal track when it was eventually released. There was some reluctance on Pete Townshend's (The Who's guitarist) behalf about letting Page's parts be committed to the final recording. (Because I'm more than curious about this little seductive morsel, I'm going to have to delve into it further.)

Immediately, right in the middle of reading the article, I put on "I Can't Explain" and listened intently for a couple spins at the various guitar parts. I couldn't determine for certain if Page's signature style was what I was actually hearing or otherwise. I wouldn't have questioned it at all but the fact it was raised in the article gives me pause.

And then a name came up as I was listening to the track: Yvonne Elliman. Not knowing anything about her, I sought out her history. Apparently, Elliman was quite the popular artist in her own right back in the day, as an original artist and member of Jesus Christ Superstar, first recording and then joining the original stage cast of the production, and later in the 1973 film version. (Note: Her performance in the film led to a Golden Globe nomination.) One of her biggest recorded hits - "If I Can't Have You" - is instantly recognizable from the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. (And had I ever seen Jesus Christ Superstar or paid attention to the track listings on Saturday Night Fever I would have known of Elliman.) But it was the little side step I saw about her having her own version of The Who's "I Can't Explain" that drew my attention.

And, of course, I listened to that almost immediately on reading such. And it's not a bad version of the song, so there's that.

The Page article consumed, the ear candy listened to, the historical snacks and trivia firmly tucked away in my noggin, I went on with the rest of my day.

Little did I know "I Can't Explain" would crop up yet again.

At work I often have music playing. I get in moods: A 1950s bevy of hits here, some classical there, various soundtracks, rattle-your-brain rock and roll, oddities, particular artists' catalogs, et cetera. Last evening it was David Bowie. I'd never heard his 1973 cover versions album "Pinups" all the way through, just bits and pieces. So, "Pinups" it was.

Lo and behold, there was "I Can't Explain" for a third time, the sixth track on the album. And, honestly, it was the least attractive of the versions I'd heard that day, not a good piece of work. In fact, its slow pace threatened to put me to sleep on my feet. But I weathered through it because I had committed to doing so.

Now, why this specific The Who track meandered 'round my vicinity this particular Wednesday I don't rightly know. But it wouldn't have surprised me in the least if yet another reference had popped up to close the day out. (It didn't.) Additionally, why I didn't know all that information above - musicologist that I am - just goes to prove my point: There's always more to learn about music. That's a constant.

As to the coincidences well, really, I can't explain ...

Because I'm an all-around nice guy, below I've provided all three versions of "I Can't Explain" for your dining and dancing pleasure. Please enjoy as you see fit.

.......... Ruprecht ( You can't STOP the music ... )

Peeves, Part 1

There are times when inspiration comes from the most unlikely of sources.

For example, today's post was inspired from something a buddy of mine mentioned earlier this morning on social media. From that, I decided to expound on one of my regular mantras:

"Never use never, never use always."

And, yes, I'm fully aware of the fact that statement is a contradiction of terms. Just putting it out there violates its very nature. Still, it's something I strive for on a daily basis. 

If I was more exacting in my phrasing I would instead say something to the tune of "people need to be detailed and selective when using the words 'always' and 'never' during their everyday commonalities."

Now, if I'm being honest with myself, this really isn't a mantra I go around chanting to every Tom, Dick and Harry I come across on the street. No, it's more a pet peeve of mine, especially when people use the words as casual flips of their tongues without care or concern.

Because I consider both distinctive words, words which convey unquestionable absolutes. And by that I mean there is exactly nil when it comes to grey area in their meanings.

For example, when you say you've "never" done something, the meaning (to me at any rate) is clear cut - you have exactly zero experience in that particular action. You haven't done it previously. You have no point of reference. There's not a hint of grey area.

The same goes for the word "always." It's never's exact opposite, its corollary.

Look: I'm not a word snob.

But I am ... a little bit.

More so, I'm big on words. And on the English language in particular. The language, used as vocabulary or in written form, is a goldmine of opportunity when it comes to illustrating an idea or an object or action or emotion. And it's ultra-effective when used properly. (That's not to say I use it properly or effectively most of the time, not by any stretch of the imagination. I'm flawed and imperfect in its use. But at least I try. At least I'm willing to continually learn.)

It's simply that there are so many instances of the language's bastardization, maltreatment and slash and hack usage it curls my toes. And the proliferation of emoticons and abbreviations and bullshit word conservation for brevity's sake (especially in social media) are in direct violation of the nature of English. And that's a crying shame.

No, I'm not a word snob. I just appreciate it being used correctly. Always correctly. And never with any mistakes.

*snort*

P.S. That inspiration from my buddy in case you're wondering?

"PSA: If you use 1000% or 110% to describe something, I put you in the same category as people who use 'literally' for conceptual things and the phrase 'the dumbest thing I've ever seen' on a daily basis."

- Soren Jacobsen
(*pssssst* Visit the link)

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP using "always" and "never" incorrectly )

The Doctor Is NOT In ...

This is how the conversation should have gone down ...


"You're done? Already?"

"The doctor wasn't in ..."

"Not in? Did you get the date wrong? Today was your appointment, wasn't it?"

"Yes. The nurse said he just wasn't in."

"Why not?"

"I didn't ask."

"Then we need to go back in."

"Why?"

"To get you're money back."

"What money? I didn't pay anything ..."

"How much did this appointment cost you?"

"Nothing. Because he wasn't in."

"How much would it have cost you had he been in?"

"I don't know. About $90.00, I guess ..."

"Well, we're going back in to get $45.00, half of what it would have cost you."

"I don't understand ..."

"Did the nurse apologize for the doctor not being in?"

"No. She just made "I can't do that." another appointment for tomorrow."

"And he's going to be in tomorrow? Because an appointment was made for today and he wasn't in today. So ... what we're going to do is go in and get $45.00 for you."

"Why?"

"For the time it took you to get here, for the trouble it's caused by the doctor not being her, for the fact the doctor's office didn't contact you to let you know he wouldn't be here, for your effort and for the fact they didn't even have the wherewithal to apologize. At $45.00, I think that's a bargain."

"I can't do that."

"Not a problem. Because I can. Come on ... let's go back in."


Oh ... waitaminnit. That's how the conversation actually did go down.

And on top of that, I made the nurse assure me she'd contact any other patients who hadn't yet showed up and let them know the doctor wouldn't be in for them, either.

I didn't get the $45.00. But I did get the point across.

And that was worth the effort.

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

An Annoying Habit

I'm one of those rare (some might say "annoying") individuals who can get up at a time of my choosing without any sort of alarm clock.

Flight out at 6 in the morning? I know I need to be up at 3:30 to ready myself and scoot on out to the airport to be on time without an alarm blaring me upright. 7:00 o'clock appointment downtown somewhere? Same. Best time to view that meteor shower at oh four dark thirty Thursday morning? I'm up and at'em without a problem. Rarely has this talent (or freak of nature ability, call it what you will) failed me. 

That being said, this past Sunday's time change was of exactly zero concern to me.

Truth be told, I still have yet to change the household clocks over from their Daylight Saving Time settings. Which, in and of itself, is a bit odd because I'm usually on top of these things.

What time was I up on Sunday morning? Per my nightside clock just before 6:00 o'clock, which was actually just before 5:00 o'clock because, again, I hadn't yet made any time corrections. (And yes ... a 5:00 o'clock Sunday morning awakening is pretty normal for me. Sunday morning sleep ins ceased to be "a thing" long, long, l o n g ago.)

So, there you have it. Hate me for that little quirk if you must. Or be envious.

In the meantime, access this link and be informed why Daylight Saving Time is a terrific concept.

.......... Ruprecht ( You'd think by now people would STOP whining about Daylight Saving Time ... )

Possible Nutcracker Of Death

Snowline Hospice, established in 1979, is a nonprofit, community-based organization dedicated to enhancing the lives of those with chronic and serious illnesses and aiding patients nearing end-of-life. A good care provider and one I almost went to work for some years back.

The establishment runs 5 different thrift stores in two counties locally with the first weekend of the month dedicated to a store-wide half off sale. Except this particular weekend, which is their Holiday Extravaganza, a much anticipated event filled to the brim with everything Yuletide-esque. In anticipation, Snowline closes early Friday and reconfigures the entire store, filling it with Christmas trees, decorations, cards, lights, figurines, table runners, wreaths, clothing, knick knacks, toys ... you get the idea. Truly, there are some nifty items to be oogled over. It's a Christmas lovers dream ... or at least lovers of those who wish to rummage through and purchase holiday decor on the cheap.

Just as equally, there are those Christmas oddities that catch your eye ... and not necessarily in a good way.

But that's part of the fun of heading out to a thrift store, isn't it? And garage sales. And storage unit auctions. And estate sales. It is for me at any rate. Because there's some funky, funky stuff out there waiting to be considered at these places. And it's no different at the Snowline Hospice.

It's not only used items for purchase. There is a bevy of new stuff, too - unopened, still sealed, pristine treasures and otherwise. This little venture offered the acquisition of a few interesting tchotchkes, some figurines and what I like to call a Creepy Santa nutcracker.

Said nutcracker is charming in a manner of speaking. As soon as I saw it, it called to me. On closer inspection, I know why.

There's an element of crazed madness behind the bared teeth, wispy hair and slightly skewed beard. He's got an air of dishevelment about him. Animals beneath the folds of Santa's cloak are rather revealing in an odd way, too. The wolf has got a sinister smile. The deer possesses a definite "deer in the headlights" look about it. One bunny is on its haunches and appears to be begging to be released from its jolly old captor. Even the dove at the top of Santa's staff looks as if it's ready to take flight and flee.

Regardless, this nutcracker will be positioned somewhere between the many, many others in the household. And I'm certain it will fit comfortably among them.

I just hope it doesn't unexpectedly come alive in the middle of the night and go on some murderous spree.

Thanks, Snowline Hospice Holiday Extravaganza. 

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP looking at me, Santa ... )

20th Century Torture Devices

There are times when a particular interest about an object crops up and I feel the need to stop what I'm doing and look into the motivation or design of it for my own personal edification.

Fortunately this happens when I'm by my lonesome, more often than not, which is the best time for this curiosity to raise its head. Because when it happens with another party or party present, well ... you can imagine how it might be annoying. Chalk it up as one of my (many, many) personal quirks.

Such a situation came about while I was taking down Halloween decorations earlier in the week. I have this nifty Disney Haunted Mansion poster that goes up every October. It's colorful, printed on heavy, quality stock and is a perfect accouterment for the holiday. Well, it goes up on the wall with thumb tacks, something I personally hate but which works perfectly without damaging it. (One of these days I'm going to get the thing properly framed and behind glass instead of stored in its protective tube.)

But it's the thumb tacks I hate. Because the little buggers are often difficult to work with. Going up, no problem. Align the poster, position the thumb tack just outside the range of the edge so as not to pierce the stock and push. << VOILA! >> Less than a dozen tacks later the poster in place. No muss, no fuss. 

It's the taking down part that's the pain in the back of my front. This particular day, just prior to commencing the poster's removal, I got to thinking about thumb tacks. You see, they're difficult for me to remove. I have to get my nail in between the tack and the wall in order to extract them. Repeating this process over and over and over again tends to irritate the skin beneath my nails. And then I walk around the rest of the day with sensitive fingertips, often wincing whenever I have to use my hands. And that's when I stopped and looked up the history of thumb tacks.

It was Edwin Moore who invented the "push-pin" in 1900 to attach various items to a wall or board for display. The pin was specifically intended to be inserted by hand without the assistance of tools. Push pins! I love push pins! Because they have a little raised gripper used for applying and removing the pin easily! And you don't need to pry your fingernails into the thing to remove it! But that would change ...

So much more convenient to use overall ...

... but not as aesthetically pleasing ...

The bastardization (some might say "improvement") of Moore's invention was morphed a few years later by a German clockmaker, Johann Kirsten, who took the pin and made it a flat-headed tack used to hold drawings. It's Mr. Johann Kirsten I'd like to go back in time and meet and have a word or two with about his modifications of Moore's original push-pin. You'd think - as a clockmaker who is constantly working with his hands on delicate items - it would be important to protect one's hands and fingers in light of the profession that employs you. 

But ... maybe I'm being too sensitive, too much of a big baby about the situation. Maybe, just maybe, this is one of those "Suck it up, Buttercup" moments I need to come to grips with instead. Because thumb tacks are pretty handy when it comes right down to it.

Regardless, I still don't like a particular German clockmaker very much ...

.......... Ruprecht ( It's either STOP using thumb tacks or stop putting up my poster )

The Elephant In The Room

Before we get any further down the line with National Blog Posting Month, let's address the elephant in the room and see if we can come to some resolutions first, hokay?

"Elephant in the room? Whatever do you mean?" you might be asking.

Well, it's the acronym for National Blog Posting Month, NaBloPoMo. Is that the most awkward abbreviation in the history of awkward abbreviations? (It isn't ... but work with me here.)

As an acronym, it fails completely. Admit it: Pronounced, "Naa-Blow-Poe-Moe" is simply dopey. (Not that it had much choice in the matter - you kind of have play with the cards you're given ... or not play at all.)

But who said NaBloPoMo had to be associated with such bumbling inelegance in the first place? Granted, "Naa-Blo-Poe-Moe" doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. Why couldn't it simply be noted as an initialism when it was originally introduced? "NBPM" may not be the most artful of abbreviations but it definitely has a leg up on the clumsy acronym.

Now, "NBPM" doesn't have the finesse of, say, FBI or DVD or 4WD or USA. But "NaBloPoMo" isn't in possession of the comfortably compact radar or scuba or NASA, either. Far cry from it in fact. But in my book, "NBPM" beats trying to think about and then pronounce (or even type out) "NaBloPoMo" hands down.

Still, I'll give credit where credit is due. Regardless of its unwieldliness, there's no mistaking the identfication associated with NaBloPoMo. It's got its own personality. And it doesn't have to fight with anything else in the recognition arena. If you have to be a graceless acronym, at least meet the world on your own terms with your shoulders back and your chest on display and fly that freak flag with conviction. 

Own it. 

You might as well. No one else is going to want to own "NaBloPoMo" ... believe you me, Bob.

(Or ... you could always do what this dude did. He gave it a twist while still keeping that NaBloPoMo recognition. And it's clever to boot.)

.......... Ruprecht ( I don't think NaBloPoMo will ever STOP being awkward ... )