Do they ever close this

Do they ever close blogs? It's been two years. I'm writing this to make sure I post so I can keep the blog for personal reasons. If anyone I know ever reads this you need to email me right away.

Music Joke

How do you stop a pianist from playing?

Take the music away.

How do you stop a singer from singing?

Put the music back.

Tim and the 'land down under'

timonkhsu: college softball got more tv viewers than the stanley cup playoffs
The fedora boy: hockey sucks
timonkhsu: college softball!!
The fedora boy: I don't even know who's playing

The fedora boy: I joined a world cup pool
The fedora boy: I have Croatia winning the whole thing
timonkhsu: my student asked if he could skip class next week
timonkhsu: for the world cup
timonkhsu: I was like…no

The fedora boy: how about me ASMing school of american ballet
The fedora boy: here's me...and 60 teenage ballerinas
timonkhsu: bad news!!!
The fedora boy: I've decided I'm switching to dance stage management
timonkhsu: because of the young girls
The fedora boy: well, in the professional world they'll at least be legal

timonkhsu: so what else are you up to
The fedora boy: Hilton head
The fedora boy: but this year I plan on blacking out most nights
The fedora boy: although I'm going to try and avoid going to the hospital
The fedora boy: only cause I don’t have insurance

The fedora boy: I think I should date Denise Richards
timonkhsu: uh
timonkhsu: why
The fedora boy: I love her
The fedora boy: I should call her
The fedora boy: how does one get in touch with Denise Richards?
timonkhsu: hm
timonkhsu: I have no idea
(Erin Firnhaber didn’t know either; -8 points for her).

timonkhsu: you’re going back to school?
The fedora boy: although, really I'm not sure there's that much to learn
The fedora boy: it'd just be to get a full ride and have fun
The fedora boy: hook up with some undergrads
The fedora boy: you know
The fedora boy: the usual

timonkhsu: speaking of redheads...Rachael cooper is engaged
The fedora boy: aww
The fedora boy: another one bites the dust
timonkhsu: no kidding

The fedora boy: I thinking about doing an all Tim Hsu post
The fedora boy: but it's going to depend on if the next thing you write is funny
The fedora boy: go
timonkhsu: you should try to find an Australian ballet company to work for...that way you can find those ballerinas...and go to their 'land down under'
The fedora boy: hahahahahah
The fedora boy: oh tim
The fedora boy: that was so worth it

They're just shoes

I don’t understand women and shoes. That’s it. I don’t get it.

It’s not that I don’t understand them owning a large amount of them. I, for instance, own a decent amount of clothes. It’s because I haven’t really grown since middle school and have been wearing some of the same shirts until they rip or stretch. In fact, my absolute favorite shirt is a blue button down that I bought for my 9th grade homecoming dance…10 years ago! The shirt is amazing because it 1) never wrinkles and 2) is the exact color of my eyes.

But I digress. Here are some shoe stories:

- When my sister moved away from New York she used her boyfriend’s car (Outbacks are station wagons no matter what he says) but had to store stuff at both her New York siblings’ apartments. Now, she could have saved some space in packing, but she refused to consolidate her shoes, shipping dozens of pairs all in their original boxes.

- Apparently I’m living with a shoe-a-holic and didn’t even know it! Steph tells me she has dozens…dozens of pairs at home that she couldn’t bring because the entire space under her bed here is already packed with shoes.

- And my first hand witness when walking the streets of Soho with Sophia where she would peel away mid-sentence and be mesmerized by the shoes in the store windows.

And I just don’t understand it. I own 6 pairs, and I think that’s a lot. That’s sneakers, sandals, blacks, boots, tux shoes and dance shoes (and I haven’t seen my tux shoes in a few months). All of them have practical purposes. I understand having a lot of shoes because, like my clothes, the more you have the less often you’ll wear them and the less often they’ll wear down but 1) I don’t understand how you choose when you have that many and 2) I just don’t get the obsession.

Why? What is it about shoes that appeal to women? They just cover your feet. Men don’t ever notice them (straight men at least. Do gay men notice shoes?).

I don’t think there is a legit answer. I think it is the female equivalent to the conundrum of why men love lesbians (straight men at least. Do gay men love lesbians?).

I’m staying the next two nights at my Gay friends’ apartment. That’s 53rd and 7th, with a balcony. It’s amazing. I’ll ask them.

Al Gore for Senate...again

I’m really starting to worry the democratic party is going to squander one of the most flagrant political opportunities….ever.

If they play their cards right they have the chance to take over both houses of Congress, and yet I fear that they will instead take over no houses of Congress. And let’s do the math: 2/2 is infinitely better than 0/2. The political climate couldn’t be more perfect. I’m talking Newt Gingrich and his whatever-the-hell revolution he used to take both houses in the first place. But the trick was the republicans had Newt. They were united; they ran together as a party with astonishing results. The democrats are not united at all. In fact the only reason they have any chance is because Bush looks so incredibly bad right now, not like the democrats are doing any thing correctly, just screwing up in a less noticeable way.

And that’s why we need Al Gore to run for Senate. Ok, so for a vice president/should be president to run for Senate might seem a regression for him, but it’s the perfect situation. He’s got enough name recognition he could easily step in and win and got enough popularity that while he’s at it he could galvanize the democratic party into a force that could easily overtake both houses. Al, do what’s best for your party. Do what’s best for your country! Al Gore for Senate ’06!

More rejections:
Portland Opera
And…saddest of all…Hawaii Opera…
(sigh)

Life without internet

So this is life without the internet? Different. For those of you who haven’t been keeping up, I’ve been working this week for School of American, which means I haven’t had continual internet access (and free time) for 8 hours everyday. Which also means I’m writing this blog with my own free time, not the companies. I’d better get used to it though, only next week left and I’m done at Lincoln Center

Ray and Phil came up this past weekend. It was great! Saturday they got in at 11PM. Ray and Phil aren’t big drinkers and I had already spent about 5 hours at the beer garden that day so it seemed kind of silly to go to a bar to spend $9 on three cokes, so I took them to Paul’s to get burgers and showed them union square before coming home.

Early the next afternoon I showed them Astoria park. Then came the famed pre-memorial day/birthday/going away party/cookout. Burgers, check. Beer, check. Roof, check. Lots of good friends, check. The strange thing was that because the party started around 5 or so (while it was still light out for grilling) everyone was gone by about 11 or 12 but still had been there 6 or more hours.

Monday, my actual birthday, I showed the boys Lincoln Center, Central Park, and The Met art museum before sending them away on their bus. My birthday itself wasn’t anything spectacular. I went to see X-men 3 that evening with Sophia. Pretty low key, but I had already had my party, so life was good.

Anyway, more about the ballet later.

More rejection letters:
Washington National
Detroit Opera (like I really wanted to move to Detroit)

More Charlotte Church

Watch the entire Charlotte Church video here (including the creepy birdge section):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uq-FoLeKaPI&search=charlotte%20church

Or, if you want to compare it to the Charlotte Church of old, here she is at just 11 (she's 20 in the clip above):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehrpzXSI0Tg&search=charlotte%20church

Many thanks to Lindsy, coming through when I need her (as usual).

Charlotte Church...sizzles

With Erin’s prompting I checked out the new Charlotte Church video. You all remember little Charlotte Church, the angelic pre-teen singing sensation from about 8 years back. Well, take a look at the fine piece or artistic mastery the 20 year old Charlotte Church is engaged in now-a-days.

http://www.video-c.co.uk/videovaultwatch.asp?vidref=char003
(It’s protected so I can’t post the video, you have to go to the site)

That isn’t any version of Ave Maria I know.

I think my reaction is best summed up in the ensuing conversation:

RavenEMEF: Did you watch it?
The fedora boy: Wow
RavenEMEF: What did you think?
The fedora boy: I would do so many things to her I can’t describe because I’m at work right now

Charlotte Church grew up (and out in the right places) and is looking pretty damn good. Unfortunately her music choices didn’t grow in the right places. But really, is anyone surprised. This girl has name recognition, she was cute as a girl and is smoking hot as a woman, she’s already had a life of exploitation so obviously she (and her parents when she was younger) have no shame in making the most of whatever she has to offer. And apparently what she has to offer currently is lots of cleavage.
And that’s ok with me; I like to watch the video on mute.

The Met: It's ok. If you like that sort of thing.

The first thing I noticed was how eerily calm everything was before the show. Because everything is taken care of. The only problem to solve was that the horse couldn’t get by the cases that the Ballet had brought into one of the hallways. Other than that, it was just checking props and waiting for the curtain.

The Met does things differently then the rest of the world (of course they do, they’re the Met). They have four stage manager posts per night and I spent basically an act with each one. It's strange cause none of them wear head sets (well, 1 does to call cues).

I always knew intermissions at the Met were long. But I thought they just felt like a long 20 minutes. Turns out they’re all 25-35 minutes long. And for good reasons. During the first intermission this crew of about 40 or 50 guys had to tear apart one third of the set and replace it with another one waiting behind it. Then they had to refocus all the lights and run any fight calls. The head SM didn’t have anything to do so he showed me the basement set storage area and the lifts under the stage.

Best part of the evening: apparently Renee Fleming doesn’t come to the stage when called. You have to go get her out of her dressing room. The ASM said she’s very nice and always comes right away, but you have to personally go get her. So, ACT I, Renee’s entrance, the ASM and I wander back to the dressing room to escort her to the stage. Later I got to ride in the elevator with Renee and the Mezzo (Stefanie Blythe, who was amazing) from below the stage up to stage level. I also showed them my penis. They seemed impressed, but may have just been being polite.

I got to talk with the tenor (Kobie von Rensburg) and the counter tenor (Andreas Scholl) while they were waiting in the wings. That’s the best thing about opera (compared to theater), you get to talk the whole time you're back stage. I actually saw very little of the show, even though I was only about 10 feet from the stage (and yes, the thought of streaking definitely entered my mind).

At the end of the night, when the principals were taking their bows I was hanging out on stage. I was thinking if I lined up at the right spot they would send me out for my bow.

All 4 stage managers talked to me about how they got started and gave me what advice they could. They gave me resume pointers and invited me back anytime next season (this season ended Saturday). Too bad they don’t have an internship. They said since the Met is different from every other house it’s a good place to take your experience, but not a good place to gain it. Still, I plan on hanging out back there next season as often as they’ll let me.

The 50th Blog!

Lincoln Center allows all sorts of performing ensembles to perform in their plaza, from college orchestras to high school bands to elementary school choirs. I always like to go listen. I feel it’s the least I can do to support the arts by becoming one more audience member during my lunch breaks. Yesterday I felt especially compelled. It was one of those public schools that’s just a number (like PS 267). And I had to stay and watch because there were no parents there whatsoever. I could tell, because the choir was composed (haha, composed) of only black children but everyone in Lincoln Center Plaza (as usual) was white or asian.

The thing is, they were terrible. Sang/yelled right out of their throats. And this, this is actually a topic I feel entitled to speak about. Unlike the time I tried to blog about the speed of the international space station and was (as usual) talking out of my ass. But back to my point, which is no children should ever use their throat to sing. Children have natural head voices you dumb fuck of a teacher! 1) You’re promoting wretched singing technique to children who are already immersed in pop singing and 2) you’re taking away the only desirable quality about children’s voices, the fact that without work they’re light and floaty. What are you teaching them and how did you ever get qualified to do so (probably an instrumentalist forced into it, he was using a baton after all).

Ok, I’m over it.

Anyway…I was out there a few weeks ago with really, the worst elementary school choir I had ever heard. I was kind of ashamed until I heard the teacher say “thanks y’all (she was from Texas) for comin’ out todai. These children are part of volunteer choir that meets wonce a week after sckewl.” And then I felt bad. Good for them.

Going out and watching these "performances" only gives me confidence that I made the right choice in not becoming a teacher. Not to say I wouldn't be good at it, but I'm pretty sure I would hate life.


A.E. - My whole neighborhood is full of newborns and golden retrievers.
Me - Just the two things you should not have in New York City.


Next week: my Met debut.