If you go to the home page of the iTunes Music Store and look at the list of the current top-selling songs you’ll see (at the time of this writing) that a song titled “Apologize” is at the number three spot (I’ve seen it at the number two spot in past weeks). This song is a remix done by Timbaland of a song by OneRepublic. If you check out the OneRepublic website you’ll see that one of the members of the band is one Zach Filkins. Zach and I were on the same floor our freshman year of college and I can say, unequivocally, that he is the best guitar-player I have ever seen in-person. He is classically trained, spent some time in Spain, and was the first guitar player I ever met who did more than strum chords. Since the band hasn’t released and album yet (that changes this November 20th) it is pretty amazing that their song is doing as well as it is. I’m hoping their other songs make greater use of Zach’s talents; I’m encouraged by the fact that one of the band members frequently plays cello.
This is my inch of glory for now. I’m “friends” with a guy that is a in band that is doing pretty well right now. I don’t our relationship is such that I’ll be getting any free concert tickets in the near future but its still fun to see somebody you know who wanders into the public eye. Here’s hoping the band does well and enjoys their fame, however long it lasts.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
My Exciting Friday
A little over a week ago I was spending my Friday off doing work on the house. (Truth be told, this is how I have been spending a lot of my time since we purchased the house. Someday soon, it won't be the focus of my life like it is right now.) I was doing work up in the attic and got up early so I could be up there in the cool of the morning. By noon, I had been working for about six hours and with the increasing temperature, I was ready to call it a day. I noticed the mail had come so I grabbed my depleted drill battery, hit the garage door button and scooted underneath the descending door. I grabbed the mail and learned pretty quickly I had made a serious mistake.
I had just locked myself out of my house.
Well, Katie was going to be getting back from work in the next hour or so and there wasn't much I could do in the mean time so.... The best answer I could come up with was to go out to the front lawn and lay down in the nice green grass. I came to think of this as mandatory relaxation, a simple pleasure I hadn't enjoyed in a while.
After about half an hour of half-sleeping I heard a truck pull up in front of our house. I looked up and was confronted with three paramedics rushing out of an ambulance. They were moving toward me.
I sat up and greeted them. "Hi there. Can I help you?"
They stared at me kind of blankly. "Uh, yeah, we got a call about somebody needing medical help. Are you OK?"
I assured them I was and when it became apparent that somebody had mistaken me, the napping neighbor for a dead body, the paramedics were happy to get on their way. From a few of the comments they made it seemed that this sort of thing happens somewhat regularly.
I laid back down ready to resume my doze when I heard another car pull up. I looked up and saw a police officer getting out of his car and headed my way. (Not long after he got there I saw a fire truck drive by as well. It slowed and when it was obvious their services were not needed, they continued on. I don't know why they were last; the fire station is just two blocks down the street. Maybe they were already out on call.)
The police officer came over and began what is probably a routine interrogation.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I locked myself out of my house and I'm waiting for my wife to get home."
"But why are you out here in front?"
"I was taking a nap while I waited. The grass is best out here in front."
Pause.
"Can I get your name, please?"
"Sure. Trevor Hardy."
"And why do you have a battery out here?"
"I was taking it inside to recharge it when I locked myself out."
Pause.
"I'm gonna need to see some ID, sir."
"Sorry but its in my wallet inside the house."
"So you don't have any ID on you?"
"No I was working on my house this morning and I don't normally carry my wallet with me when I do housework", I replied. I was starting to get a bit annoyed. I had been taking a nap on my own lawn and somebody had called 911 on me. Granted, we live in a neighborhood of retired people and we were kind of new to the neighborhood but I had been wearing these exact same clothes for six weeks while working on the house. How could I not be known to the neighbors? I had met many of them and knew their names. Heck, I was the one who, at eight on a Saturday morning, was outside drilling and banging away making a racket.
"Can I get your social security number?" The rebellious nature in me was starting to flare up. I'm on my own lawn. I shouldn't have to prove who I am to be on my own lawn. I can understand that they had no way of knowing who I was but it shouldn't matter. I was taking a nap on my lawn. I don't think they would have had the probable cause needed to arrest me and I was tempted to politely refuse to cooperate at this point but I knew that even if they didn't have grounds to arrest me, they could do so anyways and make the afternoon even more protracted and exciting. I also knew Katie would not be happy if she had to get me from the police station.
I grudgingly consented.
"Why haven't you called your wife?"
"I don't have a cell phone. And even if I did, I still wouldn't be carrying it with me while I was doing housework."
"Does she have a cell phone?"
"Yes."
"What's her number? We can give her a call for you." I gave the number and while he was dialing he got his handcuffs out.
What?! I was still sitting down on the lawn, doing my best to politely answer his questions. It must have been a matter of routine procedure because I couldn't understand how I could possibly be a threat. By this point a second officer had arrived on the scene (a bicycle cop). I was outnumbered two to one and I was on the ground. They could have each kicked me a half-dozen times before I could get up. Why were handcuffs necessary?
Katie didn't answer the phone but her voice-mail greeting was enough for the officers; "Katie Hardy" it said. Also, a call into the station matched my name and social security number. The officers seemed satisfied and decided to wrap it up.
The officers were never rude and didn't attempt to intimidate me (probably). They were perfunctory, suspicious, and didn't smile. I wouldn't call them friendly and I wouldn't call them hostile. I guess that's OK. I suppose this is part of being a cop and, not knowing what it is like to be a police officer, I don't have much room to complain. I wouldn't call it a positive experience and I was glad that it ended the way it did.
As a postscript of sorts, Katie was walking down to the grocery store a few days later (walking to grocery store + bringing your own bags = I love my wife and her conservation efforts) and one of our neighbors stopped her to ask about all the fuss. He didn't come right out and say it but by the end of the conversation Katie was pretty convinced he had called 911. He came over to talk to me last night and thought we had met before and I didn't have a beard then. He was confused: we had never met before and I've had this beard for about ten years. I think I agree with my wife.
I had just locked myself out of my house.
Well, Katie was going to be getting back from work in the next hour or so and there wasn't much I could do in the mean time so.... The best answer I could come up with was to go out to the front lawn and lay down in the nice green grass. I came to think of this as mandatory relaxation, a simple pleasure I hadn't enjoyed in a while.
After about half an hour of half-sleeping I heard a truck pull up in front of our house. I looked up and was confronted with three paramedics rushing out of an ambulance. They were moving toward me.
I sat up and greeted them. "Hi there. Can I help you?"
They stared at me kind of blankly. "Uh, yeah, we got a call about somebody needing medical help. Are you OK?"
I assured them I was and when it became apparent that somebody had mistaken me, the napping neighbor for a dead body, the paramedics were happy to get on their way. From a few of the comments they made it seemed that this sort of thing happens somewhat regularly.
I laid back down ready to resume my doze when I heard another car pull up. I looked up and saw a police officer getting out of his car and headed my way. (Not long after he got there I saw a fire truck drive by as well. It slowed and when it was obvious their services were not needed, they continued on. I don't know why they were last; the fire station is just two blocks down the street. Maybe they were already out on call.)
The police officer came over and began what is probably a routine interrogation.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I locked myself out of my house and I'm waiting for my wife to get home."
"But why are you out here in front?"
"I was taking a nap while I waited. The grass is best out here in front."
Pause.
"Can I get your name, please?"
"Sure. Trevor Hardy."
"And why do you have a battery out here?"
"I was taking it inside to recharge it when I locked myself out."
Pause.
"I'm gonna need to see some ID, sir."
"Sorry but its in my wallet inside the house."
"So you don't have any ID on you?"
"No I was working on my house this morning and I don't normally carry my wallet with me when I do housework", I replied. I was starting to get a bit annoyed. I had been taking a nap on my own lawn and somebody had called 911 on me. Granted, we live in a neighborhood of retired people and we were kind of new to the neighborhood but I had been wearing these exact same clothes for six weeks while working on the house. How could I not be known to the neighbors? I had met many of them and knew their names. Heck, I was the one who, at eight on a Saturday morning, was outside drilling and banging away making a racket.
"Can I get your social security number?" The rebellious nature in me was starting to flare up. I'm on my own lawn. I shouldn't have to prove who I am to be on my own lawn. I can understand that they had no way of knowing who I was but it shouldn't matter. I was taking a nap on my lawn. I don't think they would have had the probable cause needed to arrest me and I was tempted to politely refuse to cooperate at this point but I knew that even if they didn't have grounds to arrest me, they could do so anyways and make the afternoon even more protracted and exciting. I also knew Katie would not be happy if she had to get me from the police station.
I grudgingly consented.
"Why haven't you called your wife?"
"I don't have a cell phone. And even if I did, I still wouldn't be carrying it with me while I was doing housework."
"Does she have a cell phone?"
"Yes."
"What's her number? We can give her a call for you." I gave the number and while he was dialing he got his handcuffs out.
What?! I was still sitting down on the lawn, doing my best to politely answer his questions. It must have been a matter of routine procedure because I couldn't understand how I could possibly be a threat. By this point a second officer had arrived on the scene (a bicycle cop). I was outnumbered two to one and I was on the ground. They could have each kicked me a half-dozen times before I could get up. Why were handcuffs necessary?
Katie didn't answer the phone but her voice-mail greeting was enough for the officers; "Katie Hardy" it said. Also, a call into the station matched my name and social security number. The officers seemed satisfied and decided to wrap it up.
The officers were never rude and didn't attempt to intimidate me (probably). They were perfunctory, suspicious, and didn't smile. I wouldn't call them friendly and I wouldn't call them hostile. I guess that's OK. I suppose this is part of being a cop and, not knowing what it is like to be a police officer, I don't have much room to complain. I wouldn't call it a positive experience and I was glad that it ended the way it did.
As a postscript of sorts, Katie was walking down to the grocery store a few days later (walking to grocery store + bringing your own bags = I love my wife and her conservation efforts) and one of our neighbors stopped her to ask about all the fuss. He didn't come right out and say it but by the end of the conversation Katie was pretty convinced he had called 911. He came over to talk to me last night and thought we had met before and I didn't have a beard then. He was confused: we had never met before and I've had this beard for about ten years. I think I agree with my wife.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Lord of the Rings
I recently re-discovered books on tape (well, CD) (well, iPod) and have been listening to a few instead of the normal slew of podcasts that occupy my ears during much of the work day. One of the more unique offereings was a 1981 dramatization of "Lord of the Rings" that the BBC did. Not having the books memorized and with the movies being more freshly implanted into my brain, I'm guessing that "dramatization" is the right word versus, say, dramatic reading. The entire trilogy is presented in thriteen discs so I feel pretty confident in saying that a sizable portion of the material was edited out and I'm guessing that not all lines the actors speak are vertabim from the original texts.
But there are actors, though, and there is radio drama. The most confusing part for me, though, is trying to reconcile the characterizations from the movie with the interpretations that these actors present over twenty years ago. For example, instead of Aragorn (Viggo Mortenson's character) being presented as a Hamlet-esque brooding and conflicted, he is portrayed much more stereotypically as the confident, heroic, steadfast masculine leader. Gimli doesn't have the low gravelly voice but instead has a much more formal and, shall I say, British.
The most confusing part of listening to this recording, though, are the hobbits. The actor voicing Merry sounds like Elijah Wood and Frodo Baggins is voiced by Ian Holmes. The same Ian Holmes who played Bilbo Baggins in the films. It took me nearly the entirety of the book to not think of Frodo as Bilbo.
But there are actors, though, and there is radio drama. The most confusing part for me, though, is trying to reconcile the characterizations from the movie with the interpretations that these actors present over twenty years ago. For example, instead of Aragorn (Viggo Mortenson's character) being presented as a Hamlet-esque brooding and conflicted, he is portrayed much more stereotypically as the confident, heroic, steadfast masculine leader. Gimli doesn't have the low gravelly voice but instead has a much more formal and, shall I say, British.
The most confusing part of listening to this recording, though, are the hobbits. The actor voicing Merry sounds like Elijah Wood and Frodo Baggins is voiced by Ian Holmes. The same Ian Holmes who played Bilbo Baggins in the films. It took me nearly the entirety of the book to not think of Frodo as Bilbo.
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