How I spent my New Year's Eve

5:00pm: Realize that all friends already have plans for New Year's Eve and that I should have made plans, too.

5:30pm: Have eaten only a Powerbar, a handful of nuts, and some alcohol-filled chocolates all day since 5am. Must have burrito.

5:40pm: Arrive at favorite burrito place, find it's closed.

5:50pm: Try second-fav place. No parking.

6:03pm: Decide to try new burrito place. It closed at 6pm.

6:13pm: Find yet another burrito place (I'm determined) and bring it home to enjoy a celebratory meal alone.

7:00pm: Feel like going to sleep from jet lag. Eat more alcohol-filled chocolates instead.

7:22pm: Get text message from friend in Europe. He had a great party, hope I did, too. My air purifier shrieks, and decides to take the rest of 2002 off. Probably 2003, too.

8:00pm: Begin working on music composition, "Auld Lang Sign." Have a full four hours to finish and post it before midnight, no expected interruptions.

8:47pm: Friend from Holland calls. He just got back from an awesome New Year's Eve bash. So what am I doing home, he asked? I eat more chocolates.

9:10pm: E-mail: "You have a new bill [from American Express]." I realize I may have to sell my remaining European chocolates to avoid bankruptcy.

9:11pm: E-mail: "Get a bigger c.o.c.k. now!!!!!" Like I have a lot of use for that tonight.

10:05pm: Friend IM's me. He's depressed. He's really, really depressed. His ex-girlfriend told him that she hates him, she doesn't know why she ever got with him, and she wouldn't care if she dies. At least she can't be faulted for beating around the bush. So he absolutely positively knows where he stands, but he can't stop crying. For three months.

11:45pm: My friend, currently on the east coast, decides to cry on his pillow and says goodnight to me. Realizing that I can barely help myself, much less my friend (and so many other folks who seem to depend upon me for advice and comfort), I decide to cry sitting up. I can be more productive that way at least. Besides, I do my best music composing when I cry.

Midnight: Happy New Year... my first anti-social one in more than 5 years. My song isn't finished. I'm tired. My floor is still strewn with the stuff (mostly chocolates) I dumped from my luggage on Tuesday. My bed is serving as a combination desk and clothes hamper. And I realize I have so much yet to say and do.

2003 will be better. It must.

Winning a girl's heart... almost

So I was in this loud and fun bar in Germany last week with a couple of friends, and this one really cute girl somewhat nearby me kept looking at me and smiling, poking her friends to say something, looking back, and so on.

I smiled back, of course, and was tempted to actually go over and buy her a drink or something equally chivalrous/stereotypical/dumb, when she leaned over and said something to me.

I understand some German, but it's been years since I lived in Germany and it was hard to hear her over the din. I politely asked her to repeat what she said, and she did so, but I was still puzzled.

One of the friends I was with noticed the confusion and helpfully translated. "She wants you to take a picture of her and her friends" he said.

Now I was even more confused. I didn't have a camera (my wonderful Olympus 3030z was stolen in Estonia and not yet replaced), so I didn't know what she could be talking about.

Then, as I realized that I was holding my somewhat-biggish Palm phone in my hands, it hit me. She thought I had one of those camera phones!

I explained back to her that, sorry, it was a Palm phone, not a camera phone. Blank look. I clarified, no, it cannot take pictures.

She looked at me with an expression of distinct disappointment after learning that I had a geek phone, not a camera phone. It was clear that being able to surf the net and access my appointments and to do list and even play Bejeweled wouldn't win back her interest or attention.

I went back to drinking with my friends, humbled, saddened, and single.

Candy man

This picture shows my crazy candy purchasing from Germany from Christmastime 2001, but this year was much the same... perhaps even worse. Over $80 worth of candy. Just don't tell mama, er, don't tell my dentist!

So WHY do I bring so much chocolate back from Europe twice yearly? That's easy!

1) It's GOOD chocolate! Once you try European chocolate, you'll never go back to (ugh!) Hershey's crap.
2) It's not that expensive when you buy it in Europe. An entire pack of Hanuta (a 12'er) is $1.43 at the Walmart in Germany. That's just 12 cents per delightfully delicious chocolate wafer cookie.
3) It's a great way to make new friends ;-). Trust me, I'll have a sack-full of Hanutas when I go dancing this week, and for every charming follow I dance with, there'll be a little chocolate offering.

Regarding #3, I have experience in this area, and I've also learned an important lesson. Witness this pivotal conversation from last year:

BEAUTIFUL GIRL: Hey, I remember you! You're the one who gave me that vodka chocolate.
ME, BLURTING STUPIDLY: Uh, um... yeah, I gave that to lots of people. What's your name again?

As Homer Simpson would say... D'oh!

Returning from Europe soon

I'm in Germany now, and will add entries here when I return in a few days.

In the meantime, I wish you all the best for the holiday season and the coming New Year!

Brief injury update

Since I'm leaving for Europe tomorrow, I decided to see a doctor to make sure I'm all a-ok after getting slugged in the jaw.

Aside from the expected bruising and the related pain, I'm fine. And I got a flu shot and tetanus shot for good measure.

Disbelief, anger, pain in a Moby moment

I was assaulted tonight.

I'm angry. I'm confused. And I hurt, despite the ice and double dose of Aleve pills.

I was walking back to my car this evening after a really fun dance, and just as I turned the corner, a random group of guys approached me and one of them slugged me hard on the side of my face.

I went down hard on the cement. Tore up my new slacks. And I look like a lopsided chipmunk right now.

But more than anything, I'm just asking myself WHY. At the risk of sounding whiney, it's just unfair. I had a great night. I was nice to people. They were nice to me. I didn't do anything to provoke getting punched. I didn't try to kiss anyone's girlfriend, I didn't cop an attitude to people passing by, nothing. It seems just so, well, random to turn a corner and BAM!

And then there's the anger. I don't want to kill these guys, but I'd enjoy practicing some of my kickboxing moves on them, one by one. I want to teach them a lesson. I want them to hurt. Even though I know this wouldn't work, I want them to be sorry, dammit.

But at the bottom of it all, maybe I just want to ask them why. Was I just a random yuppie target-with-a-tie? Did I look too happy? Why did they feel the need to lash out like that?

And why do I care anyway? Why is WHY so important? Would I really feel that much better if I could piece together order and reason out of this violent mini-chaos? Would it make any difference in the way I live my life?

Perhaps this is merely a reminder that life is not only not 'fair'... it's not logical. I'm not sure if there's a moral somewhere in that, but at least it's good to know and take to heart.

Lindy Hop Greatness

A friend of mine recently posted a note on the Bay Area Lindy Hop board called SwingTalk, asking who people thought were "Lindy Hop Greats."

I responded with the following, which -- although it contains the names of some local (San Francisco) talent -- should still serve as an interesting view into what I perceive as Lindy Hop 'greatness.'

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Greatest Lindy Hoppers... damn, that's a toughie.

For starters, it's very hard and controversial to define "great."

Looks great
There are those who just LOOK amazing no matter what they're dancing to or who they're dancing with.
Example: Jennifer Balderama. With her ballet background, broad smile, and super styling, she's great fun to watch.

Feels great
Some folks may look less flashy, but have the most incredibly solid and comfortable lead in the world.
Example: Chad Kubo. Every follow I know that has danced with him raves about his lead. And I've seen him lead the most absolute-beginners and make them totally shine.

Acts great
There are those who make you feel like a million bucks when you're dancing with them. A combination of natural warmth, well-placed and sincere compliments, and general friendliness does the trick.
Example: Brandee Selck. Any leads that haven't danced with her... you're missing out. One other guy I know that took private lessons lessons with her marveled, "It's like therapy. I go in depressed and I come out feeling good."

Interprets great
Musicality. Some folks have it, some don't. The folks that REALLY have it are able to play with both their partners and their own bodies in a way that complements the music without being a boring 'slave' to the breaks.
Example: The Donnelly Brothers, Elliot and Owen. These two make Lindy fun by entertaining their partners (and onlookers) with creative yet leadable interpretations of the music.

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So, given all this, Randy, I find it hard if not impossible to pin a label of All Time Great(s) on folks, given the diverse aspects of 'greatness.' In particular, I think it'd be disingenuous to give such praise to someone my friends and I have never danced with. After all, I think we've all experienced "amazing" dancers who look fab on the dance floor but can't lead/follow worth a damn. Or who can't seem to smile. Or who are so arrogant that they make dancing with them a DISpleasure.

Greatness is subjective and complex. Personally, I think all of us must find 'greatness' within ourselves and those we connect most tightly with. :-)