mlroseplant

I'll tell you exactly what to say to that request. "Um, I think not." Let me tell you why, for a reason you may not have thought of. Assuming that she took to such a thing, and became competent at it, where on earth is she ever going to play it? I doubt there is an Alphorn consort to play in. There are very few people who are content to play instruments by themselves for very long. This is why so many people say, "Oh, I played trombone in high school, but I haven't taken it out of the case in years. I really should!" That's because they don't have a built in place to play anymore. Furthermore, the Alphorn is not a chromatic instrument. In other words, you can't really play ordinary pieces of music on it, because there are many "in between" notes that the instrument cannot physically reproduce. I suppose in addition to traditional Swiss music, you could play army bugle calls on it, albeit a couple octaves lower! I would suggest the tuba. Same range as the Alphorn as basic timbre as an Alphorn (though way more focused), same way of producing the sound, and she can join the middle school band and play with other kids.

Yesterday, directly from work, I went to see and hear my son (yes, the Oldsmobile guy) play in three different small ensembles for a high school music contest. He did just fine, as he pretty much always does. He hasn't yet had the experience of crashing and burning like his Old Man has. His first group was a brass choir. It was about 15 members, and I counted six girls. The amazing thing was, four out of the six of them were wearing heels. The trombone section in particular is about half girls, and almost all of them wear heels for dressy events. I have noted this in the past. The lone female bass trombonist was wearing boots with 3 1/2" block heels, the highest I saw that evening. His second group was a clarinet ensemble. Slim pickins there. One girl had on orange sandals with 2" block heels, and that was it. His third group was a trombone ensemble, and it was a repeat of the mixed brass group, on account of the same girls being part of both ensembles. On the way out, a flute group was assembling, and I counted four more pairs of heels. My son did not play in the flute ensemble, mainly because he really sucks at the flute. As do I. Why I own two of them, I have no idea. In summary, it would appear that heels are not dead with GenZ. However, their appeal still appears to be limited to dress-up events. If there are a few who wear heels casually, I don't see it. Also, the heel of choice is definitely an approximately 3" block heel of substantial width, and it's usually attached to a single band across the toes sandal with a closed heel and ankle strap. Only one girl wore traditional black patent pumps with a 3" slim (not stiletto) heel, but that was the lone exception. There were a few boots, but 75% wore the block heeled sandals. Included in this post is a picture of the clarinet ensemble, mainly to show off the giant contrabass clarinet my son was playing. Many people have asked me, "What in the heck IS that thing?"

It seems unlikely that you will get an answer to your question, as most of the people in this thread are no longer with us. At least one of the people is literally no longer with us, and the rest I assume have simply stopped participating in our little community. I would answer your question myself, if only I knew the answer.

I've had this happen before, but it seems to be more extreme this year. Either that, or I'm walking longer distances that I used to. I have instituted a new policy when it comes to wearing shoes which have been unworn for a while. Of course, I have a checkoff list for this, which bears the heading "Vetting." I do a test walk of a mile or less, just to see where the hot spots are, if any. Sometimes, this problem goes away by itself, and sometimes there are shoes which always require some sort of barrier, such as a Bandaid, to wear for any length of time. I've got a list for that, too. Fat lot of good it's done me in the past couple of weeks! I have the same problem with sensitivity on my right big toe, at the base of my toenail. This has been an issue for decades. I can certainly remember having this problem in my 20s, and that of course was with flats. But only certain shoes do it, and some worse than others. Our bodies are at once amazing and frustrating! In other news, I went to a college senior voice recital a couple of nights ago. A young man who sings bass in our church choir will be graduating soon, and we will miss him, both for his personality and his musical talents. He had a pretty good crowd of perhaps approaching 100 people, including about a dozen of us from the church choir. I was the only one in the whole hall wearing heels, and I had walked from my house to the venue. Alas, I had an unfortunate event with my shoes. After everything was over, I started to walk home. I didn't get 20 steps out the door, and the sole of my shoe came unglued to the extent that it was impossible to walk safely. I had to walk home barefoot. Luckily, it was only 4/10ths of a mile, and the shoe is easily repairable. Also, by that time it was dark. I don't think anybody saw me clearly.

I must have done so many times, but you know, I really can't remember, in the same way that I do not remember stepping on the brake pedal when I parked the car last night. I shall have to pay more attention next time, should I find myself seated on a barstool again some day.

In Iowa, there is nothing like the MoT inspection required. There used to be. They got rid of that when I was a kid. I remember the sticker you had to put in the corner of your windscreen every year. Then they went to requiring inspection only when you sold the car. A decade later, they got rid of it completely. I remember as a pre-teen looking through the newspaper classifieds (remember them?) at used cars. The seller would list them as "red title" if the car couldn't pass inspection. One used to be able to pick such cars up for a little bit of nothing. We have never had any kind of emissions test. I am completely ignorant of what the other 49 states do or do not require. Expanding on the general subject, and again this is for the State of Iowa, if a vehicle sustains damage that exceeds 70% of its fair market value before the damage, then it is given a Salvage title, and cannot legally be operated on public roads. If one repairs such a vehicle, at that point it must be inspected. If it passes inspection, the vehicle will be given a Rebuilt title (which, up until a few years ago, they used to call a Prior Salvage title).

I don't have any more car stories today. Actually, I do, but I think we're all getting tired of car stories. Today, I wish to complain about my shoes. When I say complain, it's in a softer sense. It's more of a puzzlement. My poor feet have been taking a beating lately, in more ways than one. As the weather gets warmer, I am gradually breaking out the lighter shoes and sandals. They who had been my longtime friends are not necessarily so friendly at present. During a particularly warm day a couple of weeks ago, I ventured out in my Bebe wooden sandals, which are normally good for several miles/all day. I consider them mid-heels, and they are real leather. Not the nicest looking things, but they are comfortable. However, they ate holes in my feet in under two miles on their first journey of the season, severe enough that it's taken about three weeks for them to heal completely. And then last night, I wore my Steve Madden beige colored pumps for several hours, including to choir rehearsal. Although they did not do any visible damage to my feet, I could feel a lot of pressure on the outsides of my feet around the bases of my little toes (left and right equally). The pain was limited to that, but that's bad enough. It's very distracting when you're trying to have a conversation with somebody, and all you can think about is that you want to get out of those shoes. That ain't no way to live. So what gives? Why would these former friends turn on me like this? Do you suppose I'm pregnant?

I did not expect to be writing this so soon, but the Oldsmobile rides again! She starts, runs, moves forward and backward, turns, and most importantly, stops. I drove it about 5 miles last night. It's all right. Pretty much what I remember from when I was a kid. Whitewall tires are ordered (almost impossible to find now), and the beast actually has insurance on it now. Once the tires get here, we'll have to take it out on the highway and see how she behaves. Ain't no way I'd go over about 40 mph with the tires that are on it right now. To bring it back in, no, I did not wear heels on my first time behind the wheel. But I did wear my favorite nude patent flat sandals! I don't know if my son really wants me wearing heels in that car anyway. It would be a shame to poke a hole in pretty much pristine 52 year old carpet.

I will let you know when the Olds is reliable enough to actually drive it. Sometimes I worry that I don't say "no" enough to my kid. This certainly would have been a time to do so. However, I figure I'm doing the public a valuable service. Not only is my son too busy to get into trouble, he usually has someone over to help him, either work on the car/motorbike, or play music. By extension, I figure I'm keeping several young boys out of trouble, which is good for them, and good for the community. See how I justified all this expense? Plus, once mowing season starts, my son owes me some money. Since I started working all this overtime, my son has stepped up and is cooking three meals a week, which was about three times more than I expected. I figured one, maybe two occasionally. On Sundays, we go through the cookbook, make a list, and go grocery shopping together. For having little experience cooking, he doesn't do all that bad! Even Mama has quit yelling at him in Vietnamese quite as frequently these days. I don't mind spoiling him a little bit.

The Oldsmobile almost rides again! My son, though quite sensible for his age, was not really grounded in reality when he decided he had to have this land yacht. What initially began as simply needing a starter has ballooned into completely cleaning out the entire fuel system, including dropping the gas tank, to get rid of the skunkiest gasoline I have ever encountered in my life. I tried to light a paper towel soaked in this gasoline. It would not burn. I am somewhat impressed by him though. There are not very many 16 year old kids left in this world who can take a carburetor to pieces, put it back together, and still have it work. Next, with the 455 Rocket engine back in the game, we blew a hole in the side of the radiator. New radiator. Next, the brakes ceased to function. That's kind of where we're at right now, waiting on parts (which are surprisingly available and cheap). He, in his teenage brain, did not see all of this coming, but I sure did. . . Oh, and we need to buy tires, which are not cheap. Good thing I'm employed again.

I suppose in the strictest sense of the word, "indemnity" is not correct, since you can't really put a number on a person's life like you can a house or a car or a hospital bill, but yeah, it's a catchy film title. And now, for something completely different. Yet another subject having nothing to do with high heels. So, last week, my son bought THIS f'ing thing! It has a 455 Rocket. Mama was not real happy, but she has stoically accepted it, just as she has my high heels.

My wife is very strange. She actually prefers Coffee Mate to actual cream or milk. Then again, she keeps tomatoes in the refrigerator. Some things, you just learn to accept or ignore. After one week back in the saddle, it's not so bad. My only objection to the job is that there's too much of it. I will be heading to work today shortly (on Saturday). That ain't no way to live, but the old bank account is going to recover quickly.

I have never had the experience of flying in heels, and it's entirely possible that I never will. I would seem to be cut out for the endeavor, though. The last time I saw a passenger in heels was probably around 15 years ago, but they were doozies! Like 6 inch platform heels. Asian flight attendants always have very specific uniform shoes, and the airport ones are invariably 2 1/2". Occasionally, I have seen an American F/A with 4 inchers. Not very often.

My wife always wears her ankle bracelet underneath hosiery (where applicable), but that's probably because she never takes it off. I am a recovering coffee snob. I used to buy the freshest beans from my local roaster, grind them by hand in my Zassenhaus grinder, and make one cup at a time pouring hot water over the grounds. Now, I just drink whatever my wife buys from Costco using the automatic coffee maker. We still buy whole bean, though. When I'm in coffee snob mode, I tend to prefer the African coffees in general, especially Ethiopian. I find Colombian coffee to be overrated.

It is kind of depressing, isn't it? The folks in my church choir may or may not know about my work situation, but one of them informed me last night that my future employment situation seems secure. It was announced a couple of days ago that an IT company had bought land to build seven large data center buildings a mere 10 miles from my house. This is a big enough project to last more than five years. I told him that that was not necessarily good news at all. Great. Another data center. Give me something else, please! Data centers are at once boring and stressful. Not to mention exhausting. I would rather work at Firestone than data centers, and that's saying something (a tire factory can be very dirty).