1) Today was the last day of the SMART program. I got a thank-you letter from Julio, written in a language that bore no orthographical resemblance to English. He either told me that I was a nice person and he enjoyed his hour with me, or that I was a knife peon and he interred whores with me. The program director presented me with a candid snapshot of me reading to the child. I believe I was intended to grow misty and sentimental. Thank God this is over, I thought, followed shortly by I wish people wouldn’t take photos without asking me; I hate having my picture taken.
I think I’m supposed to clasp the child’s expression of gratitude unto my heart, and sign up again for next year. But I’m not going to. I just wasn’t touched.
2) This evening I went to hear a piano recital. I’m not going to say who the pianist was, because the last time I criticized a pianist on this blog, he found me via Autogoogling and left a large number of comments chronicling my unrepentant ignorance and assholery. I get enough of that during the course of doing my job, so I’m not going to invite it here.
That being said, this fellow played the most extraordinarily leaden Chopin I’ve ever heard. I’ve heard Chopin played badly, but usually the fault is of excessive flamboyance, rather than the interpretational equivalent of having swallowed a sackload of bowling balls. What puzzled me is that I can’t imagine anyone thinking that Chopin is the right match for this pianist, so I wonder why he bothers … it’s not as though it’s a law that every pianist has to play everything in the repertoire. Benedetti, for example, was a brilliant Debussy interpreter, but played the most horrifying Mozart ever heard on this planet. He just shouldn’t have done it. And this very nice and musical gentleman shouldn’t ever play Chopin. My mind wandered during the interminable Ballade (it’s a good trick to turn one of the more dramatic pieces in the piano repertoire into a drag) and I was much relieved when it terminated with a thud. I just wasn’t touched.
Unadvertised Bonus Feature: Today’s search term du jour: Gucci toilet paper. I won’t even mention how many people find this blog by searching “intellectual elitism.” If I really were an intellectual elitist, I’d kill myself over the fact that a lot more people find it by searching “what does the phrase grain assault mean?”.
May 13, 2008 at 1:18 pm
1) It takes a special person to continue to do something like that. It also takes a special person to admit it’s not for him, and not subject himself or the children to such torture.
2) Reminds me of our piano player at church. She does quite well when she plays simple and straightforward, but murders the music when she tries to get fancy with it. She, of course, doesn’t realize this.
3) Anyone who thinks you’re a intellectual elitist should take a better look at who you hang out with here.
May 13, 2008 at 1:22 pm
It sounds like it’s a good thing it’s all over with. I didn’t ask before but does Julio have any kind of speech problem or trouble pronouncing words correctly? If he does, I’d say that the combination of the spelling and pronunciation are an indication that he may have hearing loss/damage. He is writing and speaking as he hears things which is not so well!
May 13, 2008 at 6:37 pm
1) I won’t touch this post with a 10-foot pole.
2)
May 13, 2008 at 8:27 pm
Sometimes you just DON’T get touched and that’s okay. I tolerate kids, for the most part. Mostly family. I don’t know how you made it, but good for you for seeing it through!
Aw man, I love Chopin! Have you ever seen “Impromptu” with Judy Davis and Hugh Grant? Judy plays George Sand and Hugh plays Chopin. It’s a great movie, though I don’t know how historically accurate. It does have its charm though.
May 13, 2008 at 9:27 pm
Vroni — I love that film. Oddly enough, it captured the spirit of their relationship quite well … at least, the spirit of it as revealed in their surviving correspondence to and about one another.
Mr. R — I admire your self-control.
Corina — No, he speaks very well; I think the problem is that the poor kid hears absolutely no English at home, and so he’s just bound to lag behind the learning curve. I don’t know whether he reads or writes in Spanish … it’s one of those questions the volunteers can’t ask.
Shawn — Yes, I’m pretty pleased with myself for admitting that I can’t do it again.
May 14, 2008 at 12:00 am
1. How sweet that he felt that way. Maybe. Or do you think he was coerced into writing a thank you note? I’m with you on the surprise photo. I am a horrible subject myself.
2. Which Ballade was it? Many people can’t handle Chopin, it’s true. You have to find the music that speaks through you.
I don’t get why the guy didn’t like your review. Not all people are flawless. I rather like to hear reviews of my music (or discuss reviews of my writing). If it’s uncomplimentary, then it gives me something to shoot for, to make an improvement.
Bonus. Gucci Toilet Paper? Now I’ve heard everything.
May 14, 2008 at 3:55 am
*extends paw, pokes David* There, you’ve been touched.
People find mine searching for “little fluffy cat”. Go figure.
May 14, 2008 at 6:31 am
There are children who are simply not endearing. It’s a terrible thing, but true. Also, an author found my bad review of his book by googling himself and I felt humiliated. I hope he hasn’t tracked me down to this comment, so that’s all I’ll say except he was a very nice person. I didn’t realize we are all at risk poorly reviewing living artists/writers/musicians unless they are super famous. The rest spend all their down time googling their name in hope of fame and squash dastardly villains like us who threaten that grandiose goal.
May 14, 2008 at 6:35 am
Also, what’s this new stupid thing with WordPress giving all us Blogger bloggers these dumb quilt patterns instead of our normal pictures. I feel like they are making me wear an Internet Burka.
May 14, 2008 at 6:41 am
You don’t have to feel touched in order to do something good for someone else. Doing good doesn’t necessarily make you feel good. That said — Shawn is also right that it’s OK to decide it’s not for you!
May 14, 2008 at 9:53 am
David! I am so sorry I haven’t visited your site recently, cramming for finals has been my sole occupation recently. I’ve missed reading your blog terribly, and hopefully now that I’m home for the summer, I’ll be able to start reading it daily again. I’ve missed you!
May 14, 2008 at 1:00 pm
Ditto Mr.Random.
May 14, 2008 at 4:08 pm
1) I have never understood why we’re supposed to find the things that kids say/do more touching than the things that adults say/do, just cos they’re short. I mean, I like kids. Nice ones. They make me laugh. But I don’t find them touching. Well, sometimes I find them touching precious and breakable valuables in my house when they’re visiting with their parents, and then I give them a resounding slap. That touches them alright.
2) on Chopin being flogged to death with something soggy… Not good. Why didn’t you leave? You could have had a nice cup of tea somewhere instead.
Bonus feature: I aspire to being an intellectual elitist. In the meantime, I’ll have to settle for being an alert mentalist.
May 14, 2008 at 9:23 pm
Trucie — 2) The whole program wasn’t Chopin, luckily. And the parts that weren’t were quite nice, which is how I know that this pianist should play other things and just leave Frederic alone.
Julia — I hope your school year ended well … nice to see you here!
KM — I know I don’t need to feel good about doing good, but I think the program tries to manipulate the volunteers with the letters and photos, hoping they’ll be moved enough to come back. Maybe I’m overly cynical.
Gloria — I think WordPress has been overtaken by the Amish. That’s the only explanation I can think of for the quilts.
Pan — All the kids wrote notes to their readers, so I think coercion was involved, which may account for my lack of appropriate reaction.
May 15, 2008 at 7:30 am
#11
David,
Jane touched me. Make her stop!
#13
Truce,
-When my daughter was very little, she was also very smart. (We know this as she took the IQ test at the school for very smart kids where her partner now teaches–how weird is that? Though she never went to that school, so she had to be very smart in what Americans call a public school.)
Anyway, as a very smart little kid, she figured out: My parents don’t like kids very much. Unless I am very good, I will not survive to adulthood. Not only that, no one may ever find where they put the body.
If you ever have a kid, let them read this message when they are about two years old, before it is too late.
May 15, 2008 at 11:35 am
Mr.Random, you started it first! David, make him stop!
May 15, 2008 at 11:41 am
You know, Mr.Random, what you said got me thinking. I think my daughter also figured out very early in life that I am not very fond of kids and she would have to be really really good and she is!
And thank you, David, for attracting such readers.
May 16, 2008 at 12:06 pm
David - I feel sure that Frederic wanted to be left alone, too. Very ‘tortured and tuberculosal genius’. And I think I may have just invented a word there.
Mr. Random - I have printed that wise statement out and will secrete it somewhere safe. Should I ever actually find a man with whom I want to have children (looking less and less likely by the day) I will retrieve it and brandish it on his/her second birthday as advised.
May 17, 2008 at 5:18 am
You always make me feel better about the fact that I appreciate my children much more now that they are nearing middle school. I have never, ever enjoyed hanging with those below the age of 8 or 9, and I’ve had such guilt over that. Not only did this post leave me laughing, it made me feel better too. Nothing like a bit o’ validation.
May 21, 2008 at 9:25 am
Good for you for giving it a try, and even better for you for being honest that it wasn’t the moving, life-changing experience that it was cracked up to be. I’ve had people foist their kids on me hoping to break me of my complete indifference towards children. And then look expectantly at me afterwards as they wait for me to tell that their adorable little tyke has broken through my cold, hard heart. I usually just tell them their child was fine, but next time bring me a cat or a dog.