Almost 30

In three days, the clock will strike a certain time, and I will turn a dreaded age: almost 30. This year, I’ll have to nix my tradition of wallowing in sorrow by myself, as I’ll be at work. Actually, I’ll just turn my wallowing inwards and cry metaphorical tears.

Men are lucky because they age gracefully and often get sexier the older they get. Two words: John Stamos. I however, am at this awkward age where I have wrinkles AND zits! Perfect example of how unfair life can be. So think of me on March 11th as I wallow internally and externally, when I’ll cry tears that will probably worsen my acne, and scrunch my face in sadnes which will deepen my wrinkles.

But you know what would make me feel better, dear reader?? A contribution to my GoFundMe where I’m trying to raise money for a new guitar. Anyone who donates can request any song and I will sing and record it for you. Check out my SoundCloud to hear my previous recordings if you need more motivation to donate. I mean come on, it’s my birthday after all.

Lyrics: Useful, or Mental Clutter?

The other day, I was scrounging around in my parents' house for a blank CD and came upon the Mount Everest of CD stacks. They were not blank, however, but a collection of mix CDs made throughout my middle and high school years. I decided to go down memory lane and popped CD after CD, some terribly scratched, into my car's CD player. The vast majority of the tracks I hadn't heard in years and years, and yet I noticed that I had the majority of the lyrics memorized word for word. On some occasions, I began singing along to a song perfectly and could not even remember its name or who was the singer or group.

This got me thinking...

The storage space in my brain dedicated to 80's, 90's and early 2000's music including that of Avril Lavigne, Britney Spears, Seether, Bush, and Lifehouse (to name a very select few) along with soundtracks from various movies, classic rock tunes, and some numbers from famous musicals must be the absolute largest of all mental storage spaces in my brain. I mean, how is it fair that I can remember all the words to "Come What May" from Moulin Rouge without hearing it for years but I can't remember information from my nutrition class one week ago?

Maybe the key is just to put all information I wish to truly store forever into a catchy tune. Honestly, that would probably work. One of my elementary teachers had us sing multiplication tables to kids tunes and I can STILL remember that almost twenty years later. So all you professors out there, perhaps it is time to conduct your lectures entirely in song. If nothing else, it would be incredibly entertaining.

Songs That Sound Like Other Songs

These days, nothing that comes on the radio sounds "new" to me. Nothing is exceptionally mind-blowingly (yes, I just created that word) original (except for Ed Sheeran, he is the god of music). I'm not bashing pop artists of today by any means. I still listen to those stations baring generic tune after generic tune and I acknowledge that there are only so many notes in the scale, only so many chord progressions, and so songs are often bound to sound similar.

However, many artists are protective of their work, and get at each others' throats metaphorically for "copying" their songs. For example, click here for a long list of songs that are essentially the same. Robin Thicke recently got into some trouble for his song "Blurred Lines" which sounds exactly like Marvin Gaye's "Got To Give It Up," and he actually got in trouble for it. I'm fine with that because "Blurred Lines" is pretty terrible. If by some cosmic freak incident Robin Thicke is reading this, no offense, man.

Anyways, recently I discovered how much of a genius Taylor Swift truly is. While listening to her new album, I realized that two of the tracks, "Bad Blood" and "Wonderland," sound the exact same during certain parts. She has discovered how to copy other music! Just copy your own and tweak it slightly! I mean what is she going to do, sue herself? Yeah, didn't think so. Anyway, listen for yourself.

Sharing Music

Before I began my first day of work, a seasoned teacher told me not to buy a second-hand guitar here and that if I did, not to tell the kids at school. He said that if they found out, they would pester me incessantly to play for them all of the time. Honestly, that was one of the worst bits of advice I have received. Buying that guitar and sharing with the students that I love to play and sing was one of the best things I have done here so far.

Leaving my guitar behind in the United States felt like abandoning my best friend. I knew I wouldn't last long without one, so I quickly ventured to a second hand store and picked up a gently loved guitar. I’d reckon it only spent a few hours in a love hotel (I really hope someone gets that joke).

It’s gotten to the point where losing my voice was a terrible disaster because it meant I couldn't play for the kids. The second I woke up one morning and could barely speak, my thoughts turned to my own devastation and the likely future devastation of my students and the other teachers. The fact that it has persisted for almost a week has made for some painfully empty-feeling lessons. The teachers were crushed that I couldn't play for their classes, too. 

But more than the fact that the guitar has become an integral part of my lessons, it has taught me to be more confident. The first day I ever played for my students, sweat rolled down my face in unattractive gobs and gave me armpit stains appearing as if I’d run a marathon. My nerves reached an unprecedented level. I doubted myself at first, thinking that perhaps my music didn't mean much to the students. However, more and more they approached me and told me how much they appreciated my music. The simplest comments, like “your music makes me happy” or “we love to hear you sing,” transform me from shy and uncertain about my guitar playing to a beaming performer. I no longer sweat like a hog on a spit at a Hawaiian luau (actually, I guess the hog is, hopefully, dead in this scenario so probably beyond the ability to sweat).  So, I no longer sweat like a person standing next to a hog on a spit at a Hawaiian luau. 

I realize that many musicians would love to be in my place. For sixteen classes per week, I get the privilege to play for a cheering audience. They make me feel like a celebrity every single day, and are truly an amazing audience. Apparently, the key to getting some rowdy teens to be attentive is to play music for them.

I AM awesome, you're right!

Furthermore, their constant requests force me to practice and improve my rather limited guitar skills and learn songs I never otherwise would. It also gives me a chance to improve the music taste of Japanese youths by playing songs by The Beatles and other classic rock bands instead of only the Disney pop songs they are used to. Not that there's anything wrong with Let It Go. Until I've played it about fifty times, that is. 

My only worry is that upon my return, my guitar at home (named Nathan) will have developed some serious abandonment issues. But hey, it won’t be anything beyond what some good ol’ anti-depressants can’t fix.

No, guitar dearest, I love you!

Watashi Wa Gita o Ensoo Suru

Teaching this week gave me thicker calluses on my fingers than I’d ever like to have and demonstrated the degree to which the Japanese do not understand sarcasm. To the students’ giddy delight, I brought my guitar this week to play in class. It began as just two classes that asked me to play a song and morphed into the teachers asking that I play for every class. So, I had to play “Back to December” by Taylor Swift and “If I Had a Million Dollars” by the Barenaked Ladies (it was fun trying to explain THAT band name...) more times than I ever wanted to in my entire life.

In my advanced classes, the teacher I assist pointed out how difficult the English is in the song “Back to December” and I jokingly said “yes, I know, and I expect the entire song memorized by next week.” And she actually TOLD her students in Japanese to memorize at least half of it! When I started making gestures of shock and trying to explain that I was kidding, she had no idea what point I was trying to get across. Then, I made another joke in my other advanced class (no, I had not learned my lesson yet) saying I thought that we could have a talent show if they learned the whole song. The teacher didn’t really respond save for a nod, but knowing how literally they take everything, she probably is trying to arrange a massive school talent show right now. God, I hope not.

...you're not actually planning a talent show... right??

On another note, playing guitar was the simple way to worm my way into the wee hearts of my students. Okay, wee maybe is not the best word- some of the older boys are a head taller than me thus indicating that their hearts are potentially larger. Or, is the heart a muscle that remains the same size no matter the body size of whomever it resides within? No idea. Point being, the kids clapped and encored and gave my ego a huge boost. Also a shy little girl who rarely talks in class timidly approached me and said that she loved my voice. Aw! Either she is really sweet or really good at sucking up. Whichever the case, it worked and I adore her now.

Playing guitar in front of 30-40 students at least 7 times this week really helped me overcome my nerves that I develop, without fail, prior to performing. Seriously, the first time I played for a class beads of sweat were cascading down my face, likely causing the students to wonder why Americans are so gross. Asians basically don't sweat ever. I'm super jealous. 

So, perhaps they are teaching me more than I them. I am overcoming my fears and taking on new challenges as never before. 

Crazy for Ed

My love for Ed Sheeran is evolving to the point it may be considered creepy. First, let me boast about how I liked him before everyone else. I am so pre-mainstream and trendy! No big deal...Gloating aside, I DID hear his modest little NPR interview many moons ago and his music instantly entranced me. It took a long while for the realization that my love for Ed's music was to be a long-term affair.

Sheeran and John Fullbright are the kind of rare musicians whose every song I adore. I never cared that Sheeran is somewhat of a pre-teen obsession like Justin Bieber once was, but unlike the screaming crowds of young girls, I actually appreciate his talent for what it is. I do concede, however, that he is absolutely freaking adorable. That bright red hair!? The thick English accent that gives me the chills whenever I hear it shine through in his music!? His modest nature!? Oh man. I don't blame his young female fans whatsoever, especially after seeing him live in concert. It is rare that artists are as good or better live than on their studio-edited albums. It was then that I discovered that he and I have the exact same guitar by complete coincidence- a travel Martin.

My guitar is now famous

Waiting for the release of Ed Sheeran's second album, x (pronounced multiply- aptly, as his first was +, and all my love did upon hearing x was, well, multiply), was pure agony. iTunes began advertising its release months before the scheduled date of June 23, yet all I could do was sit with bated breath on the edge of my seat to listen to the new music. To be honest, however, I was pleased as punch just to discover that he was releasing a second album so soon after his first.

I find few things worthy of my money- travel tops the list along with Indian food and the songs or albums of worthy musicians. I would go in debt to avoid pirating Ed's fantastic work. Sheeran easily falls under the "worthy musician category." Literally, I keep expecting to dislike or at least not passionately LOVE at least one of his songs, but it has yet to happen. His tune featured at the end of the second installment of The Hobbit? Perfection in every sense, as was the song written excessively for The Fault in Our Stars. Filmmakers should just always recruit Ed fort their songwriting needs.

So adorable

On his first album, Sheeran demonstrated with gusto his ability to write and passionately sing romantic ballads making him seem like he has experienced far more than his 23 years would suggest. His second album re-emphasizes this skill which he has clearly perfected, yet also revealed his previously lesser-known talents. He is the first decent pale, redhead rapper I have ever heard (actually, possibly the only redhead rapper), masterfully creates pop songs, and some soulful, almost R&B pieces as well. X is an audibly gorgeous crockpot combination of multiple genres that can appeal to every audience. With his most recent release, he is sure to not only multiply his fan base of somewhat stalker-esque girls, but other audiences as well.

I must admit, I hope all of the lyrics do not reflect reality. "Runaway" talks about running away from a deadbeat dad, "Don't" talks about being cheated on, a good number of songs touch on the subject of drinking too much... I hope for his sake he has not been through all of that, but if he has, at least he has a good outlet for expressing the associated emotions.

Listen to his album below, but also buy it! Support this charming, redheaded talent!

John Fullbright's "Songs" Far from Simple

As we watched the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 2014 induction this week, my cousin and I joked amongst ourselves about how ridiculous the inductees will be in 30 plus years. Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus....all the over-hyped pop "musicians" who generally don't even write their own songs. They will stand up at the podium, far past their physical prime, and accept the awards eagerly, and everyone will applaud. Well, maybe not EVERYONE. My palms won't even come slightly close to touching.

I'm going to say here and now who SHOULD be inducted after the many years I predict his career will span-John Fullbright. I was honored enough to meet him and request that he sign his first CD after seeing him perform live, and now that I have heard the musical talent streaming forth from every second of every track on his second album, simply titled "Songs," I feel even more humbled. When his fame has truly maximized, I will be so proud to say I liked his music before it became mainstream. No adjective that exists in the English language can truly do justice as a descriptor of his voice. It is husky and honest and rips at your heart strings like cat claws rip at a scratching post. His wise words extort and wring out every emotion from your deepest core, including ones you didn't know existed.

I usually buy CDs and dislike at least a nominal amount of the tracks. Not the case with "Songs," however; I listened to every one in sequence and seemed to love each more than the last. I have no idea how a young man from Oklahoma can already orate so passionately about loneliness, loss, love, and life in general. It's as if this is already his second or third go at it. His lyrics tell stories, share wisdom, and are simultaneously bloated with optimism, pessimism, and melancholy. I can't get over his musical genius at his age, and his ability to shell out high quality songs in such a short time.

I remember how serious he looked when I met him. Onstage, I don't think I saw him smile once. On his most recent album cover, he is pictured in black and white looking pensive and lost deep in an ocean of thoughts, which seems quite fitting. I hope his career spans many decades and that he continues to demonstrate to the world his immense talents of singing, songwriting, playing piano and rocking on the guitar. This musician is one that seriously deserves your dollars, so if you are going to actually spend money on music, spend it on the young and talented Mr. Fullbright.

The closest I've seen him to smiling

ANYTHING That Swims??

Today, as I was driving behind a seafood delivery truck, I realized how bizarre some slogans are. Plastered in gigantic font on the back of the aforementioned ice truck (Dexter flashback, anyone??) were the words "if it swims, we have it." First of all, what lame, lackluster marketing employee came up with that one (how embarrassing would it be if he/she somehow came across this post??)? It does not rhyme, nor is it witty, nor were there any accompanying graphics to catch the eye of the consumer. It starts off with the potential to be a great catchphrase. The introductory words "if it swims..." left me in suspense on the edge of the driver's seat. My mind went wild with the myriad possibilities that could follow.

The one redeeming quality of the aforementioned slogan is that it got my mental cogs spinning. However, the thoughts sparked by my firing neurons were not the ones the company would want me to think. My first emotion was skepticism. Anything that swims? What those creepy fish with the glowing orb hanging off its face that dwells in the deepest depths of the sea? Technically, people swim too (Michael Phelps as an entree??) and domestic animals, are THOSE hanging out in the back of the refrigerated truck, too? Okay, okay, I understand that I was being a bit literal.

I don't want to eat that

....or that

The same thing happens with me and song lyrics. The other day, the Bruno Mars song "grenade" came on the radio and for the first time I realized the absurdity of what he is saying. So, in the chorus he lists a series of insane things he would do on behalf of some girl who doesn't care for him in the slightest. He claims he would "catch a grenade," "throw his hand on a blade," and "jump in front of a train" all for this nonchalant chick. Okay, I'll just start with the first one. Is the theoretical grenade in this scenario active? Did someone pull the pin before chucking it at Bruno? I mean, that makes a pretty big difference. I would catch an inactive grenade for a complete stranger without a second thought. 

Okay, number two. He would "throw his hand on a blade." Is this a saying I have never heard before? Does throwing one's hand on a blade equate to taking up a sword and dueling for her sake? Or does it mean he would cut his hand on a blade as some sort of Game of Thrones-style blood oath? 

Time for the third- jumping in front of a train. Is he doing this because she is already on the tracks and he is trying to jump in front of her so that he gets hit instead of her? I'm pretty sure if a train is heading for you full force, they would both go down in an instant. Or is he just jumping in front of a random, moving train just as a gesture to demonstrate his love? Because unless he jumps out of the way last minute which would seem quite cowardly, he would die and not get to reap the benefits of her returned love earned by his heroic act. If he did somehow live, he would be a vegetable most likely incapable of love. 

Final one, and then my rant is over. The last thing Bruno claims he would do is "take a bullet straight through (his) brain." Not at an angle? Come on, only taking bullets through the brain at any and all angles shows true devotion. 

Wow, if any of you made it to this point in the blog, I applaud you- you're a trooper!

Music Tastes of Monks

During conversation class, we pair up one volunteer to one monk and practice English for an hour in the evening. On my first day, a little monk around age 10 named Sonam scampered over and plopped beside me. I had no idea what I was in for. He looked cute at first glance, but quickly revealed his inner Don Juan. He is a smooth talker always trying to get a little action. I would not be surprised if he does not last too long in the monastery. I'm not even sure if he is aware that being a monk means he can't ever be with a lady. Apparently, the only unforgivable sin in Buddhism is a monk having sex.

Anyway, the first day I played along and told him I would marry him and be is girlfriend. Then, he started to get really cheeky the next session. His behavior during the second session scared me off from conversation for awhile. Right from the get go, he started going on and on about how he wanted to kiss me and how much he loves me. No matter how desperately I attempted to change the subject, he would not quit. The last straw was when he got fresh and tricked me to plant a kiss right on my lips! He pointed to the corner of the room and said "what's that?" Not realizing I was being fooled, I looked where he pointed and the minute I turned back around there were was his face waiting to plant a smack on my lips. That cheeky little rat!

My absence from the next session seemed to have scared him into submission, at least to a certain extent. The other volunteers informed me that he went on incessantly about how much he missed me and loved me and said that they told him I was not feeling well. The next time I attended conversation, I hoped to be paired with someone else, which I initially was. However, the moment little Sonam spotted me he rushed to my side like a puppy with a bad case of separation anxiety. I decided not to play along with his little love game anymore, and he spent the whole time making me fancy origami animals. He does have some redeeming qualities- he has presented me with a hand-made gift almost every session for the past few days. Two times he arrived bearing origami, one day a beautiful bracelet, and one day a white shawl for good luck. He has not tried anymore kisses, thankfully; the last day he simply asked me on a date which I adamantly refused. Where does this kid learn this stuff? Probably from all of the Justin Bieber he listens to.

On that note, I am baffled by the pop music that is popular here in India. It seems like every restaurant, public place or taxi we enter has Avril Lavigne, Enrique Iglesias, or Michael Jackson blaring through the speakers. All of the young monks seem to idolize Justin Bieber (probably not the best role model), Bruno Mars, Taylor Swift and One Direction. Seriously? I mean, I don't have anything against Taylor, and One Direction is okay, but I feel obligated to introduce them to some quality classic rock like The Beatles. Or, if they are going to go the boy band route they could at least go with a quality one like The Backstreet Boys. I just can't comprehend how, out of all the pop music out there, Avril Lavigne made it big here. How did that happen? Did she go on a tour of India at some point? It just seems very random.

Apparently, they also love John Denver. While Jim, my temporary New Zealand dad, was teaching his students, he offered them a selection of three songs of which they could choose one to learn: Welcome to My Wold by Jim Reeves, Top of The World by The Carpenters and Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver. They eagerly opted to learn the John Denver tune. Now that demonstrates good taste!