Setting fire to sleeping blogs.
No, I'm not going to blog about how wrong Rachel is regarding one of television's most magnificently complex serial dramas. (Forgive me if I don't take entirely seriously the television opinion of someone who I'm pretty sure owns the complete That '70s Show series on DVD, even that awful final season.)
No, I'm not going to blog about how Tim, as usual, will not follow through on anything he says he's going to do, and I will put money on it. (By the way, anyone see his weekly fantasy-football summary post for last weekend? Y'know, the same weekend where he and I went head-to-head and I crushed him like the pathetic footie-pajama-wearing boy he still is? Strange, he never wrote about it... [Also, I beat his sad panda of a girlfriend this week, too. King of the castle, king of the castle!)
No, I'm not going to blog about how even after repeated sessions of unashamed begging and pleading from yours truly, Jason still flat-out refuses to blog more than once a week. (Hell, I can't even get the rest of the editors to hit their three-blogs-a-week quota [unless you count Rachel's college football roundup, which has been commented on slightly under zero times, not counting her mom raving about the Huskers]. [Jay kay Ray Ray, I've told you a thousand times how much I love reading your boundless enthusiasm for a college football team that I could otherwise give a rat's tail about. Also, I think you should get an Alan Parsons Project tattoo.])
No, I'm not going to blog about how recent Cleveland transplant Jen thinks that after living here for less than 90 days, she has any grounds to make such a bold statement as her brazen "East Side rules, West Side droolz" entry states (I may be paraphrasing there). (Look, lady, I've lived here for a whopping 4.5 years. Obviously, I know way more than you about Cleveland. It shows in how little I know about Cleveland.)
What I am going to blog about is how I saw a story on 60 Minutes tonight about a 13-year-old boy named Rex. Rex is severely autistic, almost completely blind and can't even do something as simple as putting on his own shoes. Yet with music, he is a savant -- someone can sing a song or play him a piece on the piano just once, and he can immediately sing or play it back, note for note. His piano-playing is absolutely incredible for someone his age, and it made me well up inside knowing that this little guy has probably gone through more pain and struggles than I ever will in my life, but his brain was kind enough to let music in, and he is so much happier because of it. He found paradise.
The following piece of music isn't what you've probably grown accustomed to me recommending on this blog (that is to say I don't believe anyone with a beard and tattoos had a hand in creating it). It is, however, one of my favorite pieces of music ever. "In Paradisum" (or, in English, "into paradise") is the seventh and final movement of Gabriel Faure's Requiem, a piece I had the incredible pleasure of performing dozens of times as a 13-year-old boy soprano in a local choir. Play it right before you're about to fall asleep tonight. Your dreams will be the happiest they've been in a long time.
No, I'm not going to blog about how Tim, as usual, will not follow through on anything he says he's going to do, and I will put money on it. (By the way, anyone see his weekly fantasy-football summary post for last weekend? Y'know, the same weekend where he and I went head-to-head and I crushed him like the pathetic footie-pajama-wearing boy he still is? Strange, he never wrote about it... [Also, I beat his sad panda of a girlfriend this week, too. King of the castle, king of the castle!)
No, I'm not going to blog about how even after repeated sessions of unashamed begging and pleading from yours truly, Jason still flat-out refuses to blog more than once a week. (Hell, I can't even get the rest of the editors to hit their three-blogs-a-week quota [unless you count Rachel's college football roundup, which has been commented on slightly under zero times, not counting her mom raving about the Huskers]. [Jay kay Ray Ray, I've told you a thousand times how much I love reading your boundless enthusiasm for a college football team that I could otherwise give a rat's tail about. Also, I think you should get an Alan Parsons Project tattoo.])
No, I'm not going to blog about how recent Cleveland transplant Jen thinks that after living here for less than 90 days, she has any grounds to make such a bold statement as her brazen "East Side rules, West Side droolz" entry states (I may be paraphrasing there). (Look, lady, I've lived here for a whopping 4.5 years. Obviously, I know way more than you about Cleveland. It shows in how little I know about Cleveland.)
What I am going to blog about is how I saw a story on 60 Minutes tonight about a 13-year-old boy named Rex. Rex is severely autistic, almost completely blind and can't even do something as simple as putting on his own shoes. Yet with music, he is a savant -- someone can sing a song or play him a piece on the piano just once, and he can immediately sing or play it back, note for note. His piano-playing is absolutely incredible for someone his age, and it made me well up inside knowing that this little guy has probably gone through more pain and struggles than I ever will in my life, but his brain was kind enough to let music in, and he is so much happier because of it. He found paradise.
The following piece of music isn't what you've probably grown accustomed to me recommending on this blog (that is to say I don't believe anyone with a beard and tattoos had a hand in creating it). It is, however, one of my favorite pieces of music ever. "In Paradisum" (or, in English, "into paradise") is the seventh and final movement of Gabriel Faure's Requiem, a piece I had the incredible pleasure of performing dozens of times as a 13-year-old boy soprano in a local choir. Play it right before you're about to fall asleep tonight. Your dreams will be the happiest they've been in a long time.
posted by Scott Heisel at
11:31 PM
5 Comments:
Ok...first...from the link you gave, it looks like Katie beat you by one point...aka you lost.
and the requiem. it's super fun to perform. Mostly because when I played it, the score had no violin section, only a solo violin. This means when a high school does it, there are 15-30 violins who have to learn to read alto clef and play the viola in 2 and a half months :]]
@mysexytruckerhat: That's weird, when I looked last night it said I had 82 points and she had 81. Apparently I lost two between midnight last night and 10 a.m. this morning? Weird.
I only own That 70s Show seasons 1-3. Which were all fabulous. After about season 4, the show definitely tanked.
And I stand by my opinion on LOST. But I don't fault you for liking it. You also paid money to see the WWE or the WWF or whatever it was when it came to Cleveland. So. You know. Everyone's got something.
Judging by the way you have crushed all those mentioned in your blog in this game we call life, it is obvious to me how much of a mountain of a man you are!
I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I don't know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often.
Deborah
Term Life Insurance
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