The Gentle Art of Persuasion

BUT SOFT, WHAT EMAIL THROUGH YONDER WINDOWS (7) BREAKS?  

IT IS DECEMBER AND THE SALES BEGIN AT DAWN.

Here are actual opening phrases found in the subject headings of emails still (and probably forever) unopened, in my Inbox.  It's easy to be annoyed, but it's much more fun to laugh.

From my friends at Sears, who specialize in passive-aggression

• PLEASE OPEN ASAP! 
• A special surprise!
• NO JOKE
• Psst... Friendly reminder
• OMG (What?!)
• Did you forget?  
• (We're serious!)

From my friends at eBay, who just want to be my buddy, guy.

• Here's an invite!
• To: You, From: Us!
• You're in!

From Gardeners Supply, who attempted a pun, then went for full-on guilt

• Have a Crate Christmas
• Come back!

From Best Buy, who wins the Grim Reaper award

• It's Your Last Day!

From Expedia, who employs a Jekyll & Hyde-type strategy

• Yay!
• Oh no!
• Woo-Hoo!
• Uh-oh!
• Calling all travelers!
• Beware, all travelers!
• Lucky you!
• OMG Alert!

From Petco, who is convinced I'm too slow for their liking.

• Run, Don't Walk!
• Hurry!
• You Have Until the Stroke of Midnight!
• The Clock is Ticking
• THIS. IS. IT.

But despite all the holiday hustle and bustle, it's clear that E! Online remembers the one true reason for the season.

• Kylie Jenner shows her butt!

Happy December, y'all!

The Thinnest Line

One word

Three lives

separated by the thinnest of margins

One Wants

It is consumed with resentment, jealousy, and rage.

It lashes out,

blind to the damage and loss left in the wake

of the fight for what it doesn't have.

There is no consideration of the terrible cost.

Justifications rain down through the destruction it created.

There is never enough.

One Surrenders

It is overwhelmed by sorrow, disbelief, and anger.

It weeps again and again

tears of betrayal, thought to have been fully spent the last time.

Hearts ache

Words of explanation echo dully while 

Words of consolation are impossible to form.

Was it only yesterday?

This enough is too much.

One Lives

It is satisfied with life on this thin line

that separates the too much with the not enough

It dances lightly and breathes contentedly.

It lives a life marked by love and grace.

It is full and rich.

It is enough.

Tell Pharaoh to stop the wars and set the captives free

There is enough.

Call Elijah from the mountain and comfort him

There is enough.

Stop and look around you.

From the starry heavens to the immense earth, beauty surrounds you.

Look in the eyes of neighbor, friend and stranger and see

that life on the thinnest of lines

is enough.

Love the One You're With

Over the many years I've taught singers, I've been a big advocate for songs.  Not any particular song
(though I have my favorites, to be sure) but just, songs.  All of them.  One my my familiar studio speeches is to have my students love the song for what it is.  That is to say, figure out what the composer wanted to express, and then appreciate the message for what it is, and convey it the best way possible.  But make no mistake -- even if you love the song for what it is, you don't have to love the song at all.  You don't even have to like it.  But what you do have to do is understand it and then convey the thoughts and feelings behind it.  To do this convincingly, one must have a wide set of musical skills.  But beyond that lies a greater challenge: the ability to study, learn, and perform any song with a great sense of empathy.

Empathy.  The understanding and sharing of the emotions and experiences of another person.

This is a concept that has been on the decline for quite some time.  The ability to set your feelings aside and consider those of others.  The ability to articulate and share the emotions of someone else.  The ability to share the experiences of someone else.  It's the polar opposite of selfie and in this increasingly self-promotional, hyper-politicized world, I have to admit that I really miss it.

To have empathy for something or someone doesn't mean putting yourself aside.  It doesn't mean you are less important or weak.  Quite the opposite, I think.  It means you are strong enough to look outside your own orbit and recognize there are other thoughts, other people, and other paths.  It might not be your path, or your thought, and that's OK.  In my studio a song might not be your favorite.  Maybe the problem is the poem.  Or the composer.  Or the music.  Maybe the song is too happy. Or sad. Or silly. Or somber. Or long. Or short.  Or boring.  Or weird.  Or atonal. Or monotonous.  It doesn't really matter what too it is.  There are a million reasons not to like something, and generally one  is more than enough for most people.  But when you approach anything with a sense of empathy, you allow yourself the opportunity to step beyond your orbit of existence.  You allow yourself to experience the the feelings and stories of others.  You allow yourself to hear their songs.  You give yourself the chance to understand.

You don't have to love it.  You don't even have to like it.  But to perform with a sense of empathy makes anyone a better artist.  And to live with a sense of empathy makes the world a much kinder place.

One of my least favorite songs.

But I love Purcell, and I have to imagine that

his composition made someone happy for whatever reason that may be.

And so, if asked, I would sing this song with great joy and imagine

my two most favorite words in the whole wide world are "Nymphs and Shepherds"

because they are repeated 95 bazillion times in 2 minutes.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say :: and you think ...

1.  Your point :: is?

2.  Scarf :: winter
3.  Termite :: wood
4.  Willing :: the spirit is
5.  Silk :: scarf
6.  Center :: of attention
7.  Flash :: never works
8.  Warehouse :: crime scene
9.  Costume :: NO
10. Candy corn :: gross

Been awhile, eh?  And guess what?  This was last week's list.  Maybe, just maybe I'll do two today.

Mutter along here

#nanoblogmo

#needsanicon

#supershortstillcounts

#imstillhere

Ice, Ice Baby. Part 3

Day 8.  I won the Pioneer Spirit certificate. Everybody gets a prize!

"Lucky octopus turned out to be as effective as local utility company. Just Googled "things that come in 9s". Welcome to Dante's nine levels of hell."  #endofdayeight #reallynotfunny

Meanwhile, things were an even bigger mess (if that was possible) with the BWL. The number of outages started increasing rather than decreasing, and that wasn't due to worsening weather.  It was due to the fact that NOBODY HAD POWER.

As power was slowly being restored (somewhere) customers were actually instructed to leave their lights on to show that they had power.  Why they thought driving down every road in a 50 mile radius was an effective way of determining outages, I'll never know.

But at least we got a new OUTRAGE map.

Day 9. On the 9th calendar day, and into the 10th 24-hour period, we finally saw the light.

"And lo, on the 9th day, The Lord got sick and tired of the whining, and he bestowed upon the land the Holy Transformer of Antioch, and said it was good. And at the end of the 9th day, there were lights and heat and all manners of comfort. And he said it was good.

There are so many people to thank who helped us, encouraged us, calmed us, sympathized with us, REPAIRED THE TRANSFORMER, hunted down utility trucks, bribed exhausted crews, tended to pets and to the home, dealt with the garage and everything else in between. You were our lifeline and our lifesavers time and time and time again.

The nightmare is over for us, but we're standing in solidarity with those still without power. "Endoftheninthdayforsome  #Timeforthistoend

Amazingly, and sadly, others were without power longer than we were.  And once power was restored across the grid, as it were, the story got interesting, and the people got very, VERY angry.

 

 

Ice, Ice Baby. Part 2

Day 4. No power. No miracle. But incredibly grateful.

"Still very cold and very dark at home. Grateful tonight for family, warmth and light. Merry Christmas to all."

After Day 4, it was impossible to know what to do or how to feel, so life was a mixture of humor, despair, anger and worry.  The interesting thing was, between the three of us, we somehow managed to never all be angry or depressed at the same time.  It was as if we had silently agreed that one of us would be the voice of optimism to help the others 

"For those of you playing along at home, cue the sad trombone music. Despite it all, we were grateful for a warm sleep last night with family, and are mindful of what we DO have, even while we wish, pray, and yes, grumble loudly for what we don't. Merry Christmas, everyone."  #whereslinus #lightsplease

Day 5.  The situation was incredibly difficult, and no matter how we felt, none of it helped.  We had no power, and we were powerless.

"Knock, knock. Who's there? Not electricity."  #notfunny

Day 6.  No end in sight.  Nothing in sight.  It's dark.

"Answer: no.  Question: do I have power, patience, heat, any viable groceries, or hope?" #endofdaysix #bythistimegodwasgettingreadytorest

Humor, when we could manage it or stumble across it, was a savior.  Twitter came to the rescue as some genius made a fake BWL account (Board of Water and Light) to keep us updated in the manner that we were, thus far, accustomed, which meant, not at all.  Thank God for sarcasm.

Day 7. Now what?  It was hard to keep saying the same thing over and over again, but all that was happening was the same thing over and over again.

"My house has been declared an Amish-only zone.  Cats are currently growing long bears and learning to craft quality furniture."  #endofdayseven #buyingluckyoctapustomorrow

The biggest problem (aside from the whole ice and electricity thing) was the abysmal lack of communication.  For example, we were told not to call BWL to let them know that the power was out because they already knew exactly where all the outages were.  That would later be classified as a pants-on-fire lie.

The next thing missing was the lack of any sort of outage map which would show people where the outages were, or in other words, provide visual proof that BWL knew where the outages were.  But, since they really didn't know, nor had any mechanism for constructing such a thing, an outage map never happened.

However, we DID get an OUTRAGE map, which was amazing.

One week gone. What next?

Ice, Ice Baby. Part 1

The one-year anniversary of day 1 was December 22nd.  It was a Sunday morning, a huge church music morning (Lessons and Carols) and we got an ENORMOUS (caps-lock, bold, leaned over) ice storm.  I woke up several times during the night thinking I was hearing things, and at about 4 am I was playing window monitor, trying to figure out where all the noise was coming from.

The answer was, it was coming from the ice.  Breaking things.  Mostly trees.  Which then broke other things. 

I could see periodic flashes of blue in the sky just barely over the tops of trees.  If that would have been Northern Lights, I would have oohed and ahhhed for quite awhile, because it was strangely beautiful.  But I knew it wasn't The Northern Lights. It was transformers that were exploding.

The ice was causing branches to break and trees to fall which took out power lines and transformers, and consequently, the electricity.  At about 5 am we thought maybe we should open the garage and free the cars just in case.  It turned out to be one of the best decisions we made.  At 5:15 am we lost power.  And thus it began.  Day 1.

At first we were good humored about the entire situation.  From Facebook:

"Obligatory post about losing power.  Slight annoyance that across the street seems fine. Major win that we opened the garage 20 minutes earlier.  Wondering about church, knowing cleanliness will NOT be next to godliness. 

All weather considered, church turned out to be a rather heart-warming event.  Despite the fact that an overwhelming percentage had lost power, the choir turned up en masse, and sang our traditional service of Advent and Christmas music.  It was as if nobody was going to miss this Sunday, no matter the weather.  We returned home hoping for the best but expecting the worst.  We got the worst.  But still, we kept a good attitude.  We'd rough it out for the night, wear lots of extra clothes to bed and be surprised in the morning with the roaring heat and blinding lights.  From Facebook that night:

"Power update.  Still none.  Looks like I'm going to make good use of my hoarders stash of candles."

That was another fortuitous event.  I had been forever working on cleaning the basement, and had run across of an obscene number of candles.  I had previously gathered them all together and stashed them in a plastic bin.  Thank Goodness.

Day 2 brought nothing.  No power.  No heat, and now the temperature had plummeted and it was COLD. Luckily (which one never says on a Monday), it was Monday so I headed to work (no use staying home and freezing) with every electronic device possible.  With two days until Christmas, all things considered, the mood was still optimistic and upbeat.

"Why yes, I do look like I got dressed in the dark, but the upside is it's warm and not dark at work and I'm busy charging a pile of electronics.  #LemonadeOutofLemons"

 and later....

"I have achieved master ninja level in finding the only available electrical outlet in any given public establishment.  #ChargeItUp

This was starting to become a challenge. Working at the University meant work closed down at 5pm due to the holidays, so I couldn't stay late, and warm and lit.  We began to travel to different locations with a bag that was stocked with the essentials: a multi-plug power strip, a massive tangle of cords, and every electronic device necessary.  We'd find a restaurant, find an outlet and charge up phones and tablets so we could communicate with the world.  It was annoying, but at least we had contact.  And believe me, we weren't the only ones.  The power outage had crippled the city, not to mention much of the state.

The only thing missing from this picture are all the phones,

which were in our cold, communication-starved hands.

Meanwhile at home, the cats were NOT amused.  They seemed resigned to the situation, assumed a cranky attitude and just hunkered down on the bed, glaring but not moving.  For once I was grateful that they were the hairiest beasts known to man, figuring that had to help because the house was really, really cold.  And dark.

As bad as the cold was, the darkness made it worse because by 5pm it was DARK. There was only so much my candlepalooza was able to do, and even with candlelight, what was there to do but look at each other being miserable?  So, we went to bed really early and just hoped for the best.

Day 3.  Christmas Eve.  No power.  This was no longer an adventure.

"That was the most realistic dream I've ever had. Dammit." #StillNoPower

"You may now call me 'travels with power strip.'"

"They always warn you about carbon monoxide poisoning, but never about the toxic fumes from competing scented candles."  #woozy  #whiffy

We gave up being hearty adventurer's on Christmas Eve night, and after late church, we headed to stay with family, and fell asleep, hoping for a Christmas miracle.

The Best Is Yet to Come

There are days when I can and will gut it out late at night to get my post completed.  And then there are days like today where, after 40 minutes of nodding off at my desk and not being able to form complete sentences, it's just better to make the post short and sweet and come back fighting tomorrow.  So, a thousand pardons.  I have a topic, and I have two paragraphs or so, so that's better than nothing.

In the meantime, enjoy some holiday images and pay no attention to me while I collapse.

One of the reasons I'm so tired?

Today was taco Tuesday.

On a Wednesday.

Taco Twednesday?

This is me right now.

And two hours ago.

And six hours ago.

As long as it isn't two hours from now,

it's all good.

This is also me right now

in the form of an exhausted yet lovable cuddly polar bear.

Or, maybe this is my Petronus.

Expecto Patronum?

More tomorrow.  And dang it, it's already tomorrow.

Internet Roundup

Today isn't a day for deep thoughts, so instead I'll give you a few gems from the Internet.

Google Doodle

In honor and celebration of

Wassily Kandinsky's 148th birthday.

and clicking through I also discovered there is a

This Day in History

on the Google Doodle Page.

So I also give you

the 132 birthday of Zoltan Kodaly.

Way cool.

Yet another movie I want to see.

From the same people who did The Secret of Kells

and the soundtrack is once again by Coulais.

Way Way Way Cool.

Tonight is the First Night of Hannukah,
and these guys are great!

Finally,

and neither last nor least is

THE BEST THING EVER ON THE INTERNET

I know it seems like a Saturday Night Live sketch, 

but how incredibly awesome is it that it isn't??

There may be no better Internet viewing than this clip.

"Oh, God... It's Mom"

Instant Classic.

with perhaps the best synopsis

of this gem.

I can hardly wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Hashtag. You're It

Today was another day and another hostage situation and another tragic ending.  This time the location was Sydney, Australia, and every time I saw a CNN News Alert in my email I cringed a little and wondered what the next round of bad news would be.  The immediacy of news -- bad news in particular -- is one of the real downsides of our global electronic connectivity and insatiable desire for the latest morsel of information.

Finally the hostage situation ended, the casualties were tallied and identified and then the finger pointing and the hostility began in roll in like a tidal wave.  The gunman's nationality, religion, and political views were immediately prime sources of blame, and since blame only paints with an extraordinarily wide brush, it quickly spread to anyone who shared the name nationality, religion or political views.  The act of guilt by association (however vague) is sad, regrettable, and in this day and age, unfortunately entirely expected.

But Australia did something different.  Something refreshing.  Something compassionate.  Something human.  Through the act of one person and a single tweet, a revolution of kindness spread across the internet.  

#ILLRIDEWITHYOU

"I'll ride with you" was born of a simple offer to accompany Muslims on public transportation in solidarity, in peace, in healing, and in order to diffuse the possibility of racial and religious backlash. And with that one little hashtag a revolution was born.  #ILLRIDEWITHYOU became a trending topic on Twitter and provided violence-weary people something to hold on, believe in, and DO during a time when it seems the only thing we can do is despair and be angry.

Reading through some of the thousands of tweets, it was gratifying to see that most thought this offer was a wonderful thing.  It was a chance to display tolerance and show mercy and compassion to others.  Others, predictably (and just as quickly), resorted to name-calling, inflammatory rhetoric, and questioned the timing and the motivation for such a selfless gesture.

If only we could all do something as simple and selfless.  If only we could empathize with those who are different in any one of the million ways that we are all different.  If only we could ride with those who live in fear, or walk with those who are abused, or listen to those who are lonely, or light the way to those who live in darkness.  If only we could be brave enough to speak up, to step forward, to make a stand. Convictions don't need to be treatises, and actions don't require armies.  Today it proven with one person and a 140 character limit.

If only we could see the possibilities.

If only we could believe them.

If only we could act on it.

If only.

If?

We can if we believe.

We can if we see.

We can if we act.

How about it?  Take a ride, live your convictions and change the world.

One hashtag at a time.

Lucky 13

Today is a big day.

Looking over my posting habits (OK, my lack of posting habits over the last couple of years), there are some startling similiaries.

2012 - 13 total posts

2013 - 13 total posts

2014 - 13 total posts (so far)..

I fared slightly better in 2011 and 2010 and my numbers were even bigger in earlier years when TinyTuna was still a TinyTuna and not a 20-year-old-Tuna, and I had a little more time and definitely more stories to tell.

I know my posts for for 2012 and 2013 were entirely due to my posting for Holidailies, but obviously in the past two years I didn't even manage to make it to the end.  This year, though, I'm going to break the streak of 13 and make it to 14 AND BEYOND.  What might be more exciting for me is that at the moment it's only 10 PM, and I might be able to break my streak of writing until 11:58 pm and hastily pressing post to get it in under the deadline.

I don't recall what got the better of my attention in 2012, but I have a vivid recollection of the events of last December.  I'll save that story for another day, because today I'm focusing on smothering myself with positive reinforcement to get me up and over the 13-hump. It's the little things, you know.

Today, in the effort to remember things later, is a tidbit I ran across when I was down the rabbit hole of music.  I don't even remember why I found this (sadly, it won't let me imbed here, but take a listen because it's beautiful).  Trolling the web I also discovered that the composer, Johann Johannsson, was also responsible for the soundtrack for the movie The Theory of Everything, which I just so happened to see today.

It was beautiful and moving and sad and inspiring, 

With a soundtrack to match.

And then I saw this.
It was very, very different.
Most definitely not a film for everyone,
Confusing, interesting, troubling, thought-provoking, challenging.
With a soundtrack to match.

Stuff Takes Time

Way back a thousand years ago, also known as this past September, I remember going to a rehearsal where it was our first time the group had been together since the previous May.  As we chatted during a break and had one of those "what I did during the summer" kind of conversations, I was asked if I had read any good books over the summer.  As strange as it may seem, this question took me by surprise, and I found myself scrambling uncomfortably for an answer.  Without thinking (an occurrence more common than I might wish) I blurted out "no... BUT I BOUGHT SOME."  As soon as I said this I heard the sad trombone music in my head and thought, "You. Are. An. Idiot"  as the conversation and my credibility came to a grinding halt.

But the statement itself was entirely true.  I had a whole stack of books I had gotten over the summer, and simply hadn't the time to read any of them.  Life happened, I got busy, and books went unread. In fact, they are still in the same pile, only to be joined by another pile of books this fall that are also (you guessed it) waiting to be read.

Today, with 12 days until the Big Red One, I'm quite certain that, compared to most people, I'm WAY behind in the holiday bonanza.  What's weird for me is that so far, I'm not particularly upset.  I'm perfectly content to get things done when I can, and not worry about the rest.  So, if you see me and ask me, "Have you decorated your Christmas tree yet?"

I'll most likely tell you, "No... BUT I BOUGHT ONE."

After all, it's not like the Three Wise Men 

arrived Second-Day Air.

Stuff. Takes. Time.

All for One and One for All

I am a singer.

I am a musician.

I am a communicator.

I am a story-teller.

I am the voice of the poet.

I am the interpreter of the composer.

I am singular.

I command attention.

I stand in the front with an army of musicians behind me.

I am sparkles and grace and attitude.

I train to achieve utmost resonance and power.

I train to navigate the highest, loudest, lowest, softest.

I study languages and history.

I possess equal parts narcissism and insecurity.

I absorb criticisms like an enormous sponge.

I process opinions like a holding cactus, afraid of it's barbs.

I am left at the end of the day with myself, my instrument, and my own convictions about music, expression and the world around me.

I am a soloist.

We are singers.

We are musicians.

We are communicators.

We are story tellers.

We are the voices of the poet.

We are the interpreters of the composer.

We are many.

Together we command attention.

Together we stand as a team -- One voice yet many.

We are unity and pride and attitude.

We train to achieve balance and blend.

We train to be one voice that is neither highest, loudest, lowest or softest.

We study languages and history.

We possess equal parts love of community and love of expression.

We absorb criticisms with professionalism and grace.

We offer opinions carefully like a cactus, careful not to hurt.

We are left at the end of the day with voices in our ears, music in our hearts,

and an overwhelming love for the singular experience that we share together.

We are a choir.

One is not better than the other

One is not greater.

One is not more glamorous.

To be a soloist is not harder

To be a choir is not easier.

Each has its demands.

Each has its rewards.

But the applause is the same.

the gratitude an equal blessing.

No matter the tune, 

No matter the words,

Everything we have is a gift.

A voice to sing

A heart to share

Music itself is its own best reward.

Over the River and Through the Woods

Everything about this picture is a lie.

Growing up we spent a lot of time travelling and visiting family.  There were near-weekly visits to my grandparent's house in Detroit for Sunday dinner.  There were visits during Christmas and summer vacation, which mean throughout the course of my childhood, my family spent a lot of time on the road.  Back in the olden days of the early 1970s, car travel was nowhere as near as glamorous as it is today.  The driver controlled the radio, and as far as entertainment goes, that was it.   This was all before the age of computers, tablets, DVD players, iPods (I-anythings), or any other personal music or gaming device.  You passed the time by reading a book, sleeping, or annoying your siblings by leaning your head against the car window and singing.  Well, at least one of us did that.  You tried to play the system in order not to get the middle seat in the back with the "hump" on the floor, and that took some strategy.  There were, it seemed, two options: 1. get in the car 20 minutes early so you can stake your claim at a window seat, and then refuse to budge because you got there first, or, 2. be the last one to the car, stand directly at the door of the person by the window, and use every guilt and intimidation tactic in your arsenal.  Glare at them, yell at them and tell them to move over until they either do or your parents get so tired of it, they order the window person to move over, awarding you the win.  It was a brutal game, and it should come as a surprise to no one that as we grew into into surly teenagers, these weekly visits were not what any of us wanted to do, and we were very good at making sure everybody understood that.

Decades later, we've survived our own adolescence, managed not to kill each other, and yes, we still travel to visit.  We have dealt with surly kids and pets of our own who, unsurprisingly, exhibited the exact same behavior we did (despite the fact that they a multitude of personal gadgets and electronic doodad available to entertain their poor tortured souls).  But finally, something has changed. Being older and (dare I hope), wiser, now we visit because we want to; not because we have to.  This December two college-aged kids are coming home and even better, are excited about it. All my brothers and sisters will be in town at the same time.  There will be parents, kids, and kids of kids, and a plethora of furry family members to meet, cuddle and play with.  Our glasses will be raised to those far away, and those who are with us in the stories we tell and the memories we share.  And although we don't have every moment of every day planned (in fact, we don't have formal plans at all), the only thing that matters is that we'll be gathered together, for a little awhile anyway, to tell old stories, make new memories, eat a lot, laugh even more, and enjoy every minute.  Not because we have to, but because we want to.

That will be the best present of all.

Haiku-Ku-Kachoo

Blogger's block got you?

get your fingers ready and

count the syllables.

Two more days and then

finals are over and done.

Sanity restored.

No poems tonight

that include the bad "s" word.

Shit! You yell.  Wrong.... "snow"

Fitbit confusion

when I play the piano.

Twenty-thousand steps.

Middle school choir sings

"If I win I'll share my nuts"

Oh Dreidl, Dreidl!

Current affliction?

Eternal pessimism

of the snowy clime.

Yawning my face off

Pretty sure this is a sign

to finish and post.

List and Learn

I am notorious in my family for not supplying Christmas lists.  I could give you a hundred reasons why, and maybe they are excuses and maybe not, but among the reasons are a big one -- I'm too busy to sit down and think of things like this.

However, today I'm making a change.  Behold, a list!  Have at it.

THINGS I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS THAT EITHER DON'T EXIST 

BECAUSE NOBODY HAS THOUGHT OF IT YET, 

OR DON'T EXIST BECAUSE NOBODY KNOWS HOW TO MAKE IT YET, 

OR DON'T EXIST BECAUSE IT WOULD BREAK THE LAWS 

OF TIME AND SPACE AND PHYSICS AND STUFF.

1. Pencils that don't fall into the grand piano where I cannot retrieve them.
Honestly, in all my years on earth, I have never EVER had the problem with pencils falling into the Steinway abyss like I have this fall.  I have lost at least three pencils down the Steinway in my office, and retrieving them takes real tools and an office mate with the patience of a Saint, the willingness to retrieve my errant writing implements, and the good will to do it all on the promise of adult beverages as payment.  FYI - I almost dropped another one today in the grand at the high school.  This is getting ridiculous.

2. The ability to retrieve everything on my DVR and have it forever.
There must be a way to do this.  There. Must.  I haven't figured it out yet.  And that really, really annoys me.  How could VHS technology actually work better in this instance?

3. An Eighth Day of the Week with Rules
The rules being -- nothing can be scheduled on this day, ever.  It's the magical do whatever you want to do (or do absolutely nothing) day.  There are no other commitments, no choices of activities that have to be made, and since it's a magical day, everything you want to do is open, free of charge, and as full of humanity or as empty as you would like.  That goes for noisy or quiet, too.

4. More efficient Transportation (see: Magical)
This includes but is not limited to: flying cars, teleportation, a safe place for people and bikes and skateboards and scooters and mopeds and roller skates to also exist that is flat, dry, clean, beautiful and separated by a real live barrier, so my flying car won't have to worry about hitting anything.

5. A Sob-Free Season of Masterchef Junior
This. Show. Is. Killing. Me.  Every week two pipsqueak junior chefs get eliminated, and I am so ridiculously invested in these kids and their passion and their talent, that I hate to see any of them go home.  I like them exponentially better than the adult chefs, and I think they are more polite, and often, more creative.  They're definitely funnier.

6. A Self-Editing Blog
I've learned it's dangerous to write late at night on minimal sleep when you're trying to get your post completed.  Sometimes I look at it the next day and wonder if English really is my first language.  Maybe my blog needs a Princess Bride inspired add-on that would say, "I do not think that word means what you think it means!"

7. The metabolism of a Teenage boy
'Nuff said there.

8. Self-Destructing Junk Mail
The same goes for Spam email and telemarketers phone calls.

9. Justice, Equality, Peace, Cooperation, Respect
If not now, when?

10. More Llamas with Hats.
FISHED MY WISH!!