Family and Music, Music and Family

Today was my grandmother's funeral, the last of my grandparents.

Funerals are sad things. Even when the deceased lived a long life -- as my grandmother did, almost making it to her 95th birthday -- the recognition that you'll no longer walk into a room to see her, or hear about something she's done, or even feel guilty that you missed sending her a birthday card sneaks up on you throughout the day. You can go from being perfectly fine to verging on tears in the blink of an eye without any warning.

Funerals are also stressful things. Trying to find some calm from looking at an empty body in a casket that just never seems to look quite right -- mouth too tightly shut, eyes too tightly closed -- is near impossible for me. Then there's the stress of trying to figure out what exactly I'm supposed to do there. And of being introduced to people I've never met, whose names I'll immediately forget. And of trying not to cry, or trying to cry.

Funerals are also great things. They bring together family from far and wide -- family you haven't seen in a long time (whether by fate or by choice), family you've never met, and family you think you're supposed to remember but can't quite place. Cousins you knew as infants who now have children of their own. The day is full of talk about how beautiful or adorable or well-behaved such-and-such a child is, and my how they've grown up so fast.

I recognize that I am, for the most part, a loner. I try not to rely too heavily on my friends and my family. But today, my grandmother's funeral reminded me, as all funerals should, what a family is and what it means. It isn't just a group of people who by chance are linked together by common ancestors. A family, especially in a time like this, is a support group. It's a shared past. It's a collective memory that comes together to remind itself of its past joys and sorrows.

A funeral gives a family a time to come together and replenish itself, and to remind us that, even as we go our wildly separate ways, there are things we share, common touch points in our past that shaped who we are, though they shaped us in vastly different ways.

And I was reminded of that today. And I'm thankful.

So here's a little song that I dedicate to my family. It's accompanied by adorable pictures of my own two boys, but it goes out to my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and all their kids, my entire extended family. If you or someone you love has ever had the surname Hollandbeck, this is for you (and I apologize for the sound quality):

Death to Robocalls

When I moved into this apartment about a year and a half ago, I received some last bits of mail sent to the previous tenant, DT. I expected this, and it wasn't a big problem. Eventually, I stopped getting mail for her, except the occasional "DT or current tenant" junk mail.

What I didn't expect was to start receiving collections calls for her. They started trickling in about a month or two after I moved in. It was weird, to be sure, but it made a bit of sense. The people DT owed money to googled her name and got my address, which used to be her address. Then they googled that address to find a phone number, and they got the current phone number for that address -- my phone number.

DT must owe a lot of money to someone, because the calls were coming four or five times a week. It got so bad that I changed my outgoing voicemail to something along the lines of this: "This is the voice mail of Andy Hollandbeck. If you would like to leave Andy Hollandbeck a message, please do so. This is not the phone number of DT. If you are looking for DT, she does not live here. I do not know who she is or where she now lives. Please remove this number from your database. This is the phone number of Andy Hollandbeck, not DT."

They eventually got the message; the collection calls from live people stopped. But now I have a different problem, one I don't know how to fix. The problem is robocalls -- those automated collections calls with one voice saying most of the message, and a second voice chiming in whenever the person's name needs to be used. They come every two or three days now, and robots don't listen to voicemail.

They usually come during the day while I'm at work, so I don't get them. Instead, they pile up in my voicemail, and I end up spending four or five minutes dialing in, starting each message, and deleting it. But today, MLK Day, I'm home, and I'm expecting a call from apartment maintenance (my furnace is out, but my space heater is doing an outstanding job), so I'm answering the phone.

So I pick up a robocall:

"Hello. this is an automated message for DK. If you are DK, please press 1. If you are not DK, please press 2..."

I press 2, and this is what I hear:

"This call is for DK. If you are DK, please press 1. If you are not DK, please disconnect now..."

Apparently, they weren't wasting enough of my time already. I am so glad they gave me the option to press 2 to hear about hanging up instead of just telling me to hang up. What I would like is a way to talk to a real damn person to get my phone number off their list. Grrrr!

I'm sure that, with a little research into the problem, I could find some resource that would let these robotic morons know that they can stop calling me, that I'm not DT. But I am loathe to give them more of my time than they've already taken.

I guess it's a good thing I'm not David Banner, eh? HULK SMASH ROBOCALLS!

Problems at Work

What happens when the server is down at work all day long? It gets a little weird. The inhabitants of my cube start goofing off.

Not me, of course! I'm talking about these guys:

This is Office Voldemort, aka The Dork Lord. Few people know that Office Voldemort is master of two different dark arts: the magical dark arts and mime. Here he does his famous "walking into the wind" performance.

And here is Office Zombie, happy to be at work. He's a decent editor, but most authors don't like him because he drools all over their manuscripts.

Not known for playing nice, here's Office Voldemort using the Imperius curse to force Office Zombie to do his bidding . . .

. . . which apparently involves reenacting scenes from Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark.

This is . . . well, this is just my clip-on fan. Ain't it purdy?

Office Voldemort spent part of the afternoon videoconferencing with his snake oil supplier, a Czechoslovakian mountain troll named Blurgle.

The day ended badly. Here, Office Voldemort casts the Dark Mark after hitting poor Bart Simpson with Avada Kedavra."Eat my muggle shorts!" was perhaps not the best response to Office Voldemort's questions.

New Year's Resolutions 2011

Usually, the only new year's resolution I make is to not break my new year's resolution. This year, though, a number of things are coming together, and a number of things need to change. So I'm going to take a stab at this resolution thing. We'll see how it goes.

Resolution 1: Finish My Novel

I signed on for NaNoWriMo this year but only got about 20,000 words in. I need to put in the time to get this story on paper, er, on screen. Ideally, I'll finish it by the end of February so I can print it out, wrap it up, and give it to my mom (with a pack of red pens) for her birthday. (Don't tell my mother.)

Resolution 2: Lose at Least Five Pounds a Month

This is the biggie, and I still don't know how I'm going to do this. Five pounds a month seems like such a small amount that it's doable, but I'm really going to have to get my act together. And fast.
I'm at a totally unacceptable 226 right now. (Don't worry: I won't inflict a "before" picture on you.) If I can lose just five pounds a month until December, I'll be at a much nicer (but still not optimal) 170 pounds.

I won't kid myself into thinking that I could possibly lose weight during December. It'll be hard enough not to put it all back on at one Thanksgiving dinner.

Resolution 3: Me + Ukulele + YouTube

I want to learn an awesome piece on the ukulele (preferably an instrumental -- I don't have the best singing voice), record myself playing it, and upload it to YouTube. Why? Just to prove to myself that I can.

But what song? Malaguena might be a good choice, but I'm taking suggestions.

Resolution 4: Draw More

I doodle all the time, but I haven't done a serious art project since the picture I drew for my parents a few Christmases ago. I want to create more drawings that I can call "finished." I love the idea of actually putting together a regular comic of sorts, but I don't want to aim that high here in the first week of January.

Resolution 5: Remember to Come Back Here and Remind Myself about These Resolutions

Don't want to forget I made 'em!

The Creep on the Christmas Ukulele

The more I think about the story behind the video at the end of this post, the longer it gets. I'll try to relate the shortened version here:

When I first joined Twitter, over 2,700 tweets ago, I, like practically everyone else, wasn't sure whom I wanted to follow. One of my favorite authors is Neil Gaiman, and he has been recognized numerous times as a mover and shaker on Twitter, and someone worth following. So I did.

It didn't take long, then, for me to discover his fiancée, Amanda Palmer, a quirky, eccentric performer who is as active on YouTube as she is on Twitter, which is a lot. While I was nosing around on YouTube, I found a video of her performing Radiohead's "Creep" on a ukulele. (There are actually quite a number of them out there, but this is one of the best.) I loved it. I love the song, and I loved the idea of covering it on ukulele.

Closer to home, my father took up luthiery as a hobby some time ago. At some point, I mentioned that I'd love to have a ukulele. Lo and behold, on Christmas Eve, we exchanged our gifts, and out of one box I pulled this ukulele, hand-made by my father:

It seems fitting, then, that the song that made me want to find a ukulele and learn how to play it ought to be the first song I learned. So here it is: My rendition of Radiohead's "Creep" (the PG version) on ukulele, a la Amanda Palmer:



Thanks, Dad.

The Annual Festivus Airing of Grievances

Today is Festivus. Part of the joy of Festivus is the Airing of Grievances. I did my airing today one grievance at a time on Twitter, but it seemed like a good idea to record them here. Maybe next year I’ll be able to avoid some of these.

So here are the things that cause me or have caused me grief, as seen on Twitter:

• People who will wait 10 minutes in the Taco Bell drive-through but complain about the cost of gas.
• “Unnecessary” “quotation” “marks”
• People who misuse comprise to try to sound smarter.
• Tandem mountain bikes
• I blame John McCain for Sarah Palin.
• Movies made from 1980s TV shows
• People who use SMS shorthand when they’re bloody speaking
• No one recognizes my genius except my mother
• Justin Bieber will make more money this year than I’ve made in the last 36.
• People born into wealthy families who wrote books about how to become rich.
• @BrnzBarbie wrote: People that think “conversate” is a real word annoy me. To which I added And “orientate.”
• When people say “people that” instead of “people who”
• It’s almost 2011! Weren’t we promised flying cars by now? Where are the flying cars?!
• Still haven’t gotten my birthday presents from Mark Zuckerberg, Steve Jobs, and Bill Gates.
• Indiana went back to being a red state.
• Stupid gravity made my grandma fall down.
• Still haven’t finished my naNoWrimo novel.
• That beautiful woman would rather stay married to her handsome, rich, stupid husband than go out with me.

Loss of Passion -- a Followup

Back in December of 2006, I published this post about how I felt totally unmotivated and lacking in passion. Some anonymous commenter who is suffering the same problem asked me to post an update, hopefully with some advice on overcoming this lack of passion.

I wish I had some real advice to give. Most advice is so general and hypothetical that it's utterly useless. For example, this morning at work, a friend outlined a process to get out of a bout of negativity (she was talking about her own mother at the time). The process was simple: when you feel negative thoughts coming on, stop yourself and whatever you're doing and think of one little thing that makes you smile.

She said it worked for her in the past. More power to her, but I had to bite my tongue to keep from lashing sarcastic at this idea.

Negativity -- or depression, which is really what we're talking about here -- isn't like hiccups. It isn't like a bug bite. It isn't something that starts at a specific point and interrupts the "normal flow" of things. You can't hold your breath until it stops, or rub it until the pain subsides.

It isn't a feeling, it's a sense of being. It's like the fish that someone heated up in the office microwave: You can wave your hand in front of your face or even hold your nose so that you don't smell it, but the odor is still there, and now what you're doing to avoid that odor is getting in the way of what you really need to do.

Depression is also, I've found, like writing a novel. Everyone has to find his own way to get through it, to find the motivation to work away at it day after day. To some people, it's just a matter of setting aside some time to oneself to focus. Others really need a support group just to get started. Still others see it as an insurmountable task and never even try.

This is really a bad time for me to write this particular post. I'm in a hole right now. A couple of them. Right now, the clock reads 1:53 a.m. I can't sleep. My checking account is currently over $400 in the red, and I don't get paid for three more days. My food supply is dwindling, and what food I have doesn't lean toward the healthy side. Fresh fruits and veggies? Try Ramen noodles. Which I know isn't good for my already high cholesterol and my too high and getting higher weight, but what choices do I have? I have no clean pants, and no quarters to do a load of laundry. And little extra time to do it.

I'm behind at work, too. I have enough to keep me busy for the next three weeks. Of course, three more weeks' worth of work will come in during that time, too. And I get little satisfaction from it anymore.

On top of it all, I've been feeling lonelier than usual. My ex took our two boys out of school for a week (which I admit isn't the greatest idea, but what can I really do about it?) to spend 10 days in Florida, hopping from one theme park to the next. I haven't seen them in almost a week, and I miss them more than I thought I would.

I honestly don't think I've been touched -- not so much as a handshake or even just someone brushing up against me -- since Friday, five days ago. That isn't good for the soul or the ego. Nothing seems to be going my way, and I see little change and few prospects in the near future.

I know I'm just feeling sorry for myself. It's very easy. (If you're reading this, please don't leave your own sob story in the comments, letting me know how much worse you've got it. I don't need to add guilt on top of everything else.)

There have been some brighter points, though. Of late, I've taken to writing sonnets in my spare time -- or in meetings at work. I do get a brief rush of satisfaction and pride when I click that Publish Post button the sends a new poem up to my other blog. As always, it's the act of creation that gives me a sense of self in this world. And there are always people to "talk to" on Twitter.

I did have a young lady over last Friday -- all afternoon and most of the evening -- to help me with the visual presentation I'm doing for the IWS concert this Saturday. After we hit a stopping point, she stayed and kept me company for a while. It was nice, but it really emphasized how lonely it was when I was by myself on Saturday. How's that for instant karma?

Still, it gave me some hope that I wasn't a total outcast. That someone out there actually knew I existed and thought I had some worth.

And I think that is the first breeze that will get you over these oppressive doldrums: Hope. If you have some hope, if you have something to look forward to, to strive for, it gives you focus. Hope isn't always easy to find, though. Sometimes it's downright difficult. Like now.

I'm done whining. I'm going to try to get some sleep now, knowing full well that I'll be dragging myself around all day tomorrow, zombified. Maybe next week I'll have something more helpful and more inspiring to write or write about. Baby steps.

An Eventful Evening for the IWS

Or at least for me.

I had announced way back in February my plans to step down as the president of the Indiana Wind Symphony at the end of the season. The end of our regular season came and went with our May concert, and I didn't relinquish my post. The summer season started, and we made a big push to expand the size of the board, and I still remained at its head. The summer season ended, we had built the board up to 12 people (probably the largest it had ever been), and I still hadn't stepped down.

But last night, September 29, 2010, I made it official and abdicated my post.

I couldn't remember how long ago I had been voted in, so I looked back and found this post from September 20, 2006, noting the beginning of my term. Completely by accident, my tenure as president of the IWS had lasted just over the "presidential standard" of four years. It couldn't have worked out more mathematically.

I had decided to step down last February basically because I was getting tired. My responsibilities with the IWS have grown over the years -- creating the concert programs, building visual presentations for three or four concerts a season, running the board meetings, reporting to the band . . . oh, and playing. (It is, after all, a band.) It was getting to be too much. I was forgetting things, and not giving enough focus to any single project.

Most of those responsibilities involved a lot of creativity, which I love -- and didn't want to give up. After a little reflection, I realized that all the noncreative responsibilities were linked to my position as president. So the decision to give that up wasn't all that difficult. In theory.

But actually giving up the position didn't turn out to be so simple. We didn't really have anyone else on the board who was a strong leader and who I thought could be as dedicated to the position as I would want.

Or at least that's the excuse I told myself.

In truth, I had established a certain sense of comfort and regularity. I had just gotten used to my position. And I'm sure there was a certain sense of power there that was, well, addicting. Addicting like salt, not like meth. It does feel good to have people defer to you, to accept your opinion as an "official decision."

So I was essentially split: a part of me looked forward to surrendering those headaches and travails, and the other part didn't want to rock the boat that I had gotten so comfortable floating around in.

But some big changes are coming to the IWS this year. The biggest by far is that we're trying to hire a director of development -- the band's first paid position. That employee will report directly to the IWS president, adding a new managerial element to the position.

I have all of zero management experience. And I don't want any. We do have a few people on the board with managerial background, who can certainly do that part of the job better than I could. With the evolution of the president's position into areas I was uncomfortable with, and with an expanded board with new and useful skill sets, it became much easier for me to give up the post.

And so now I have.

And I miss it already. But I'll get over it.

And I'll still have plenty of things to do with and for the band -- but now I can focus on them better. Starting first with talking to a marketing rep from WIBC. Keep your ear on the radio and listen for us!

Ten Reasons I Hate People (6)

TMZ is still on the air.





Ten Reasons I Hate People (7)

Ten Reasons I Hate People (8)

Ten Reasons I Hate People (9)

Ten Reasons I Hate People (10)

Voting for a New IWS Logo

This is for members of the Indiana Wind Symphony only — I'm using this blog because it's easily available...

Here are the finalists for a new logo base on the feedback I've received for the two dozen or so logos I posted on Flickr. Please vote for the one you like best below.

Logo 1 -- Indiana Flag Theme

Logo 2 -- Phoenix Sans font

Logo 3 -- Cygnet Round font

Don't change the logo

[Update 7/29/2010: I'm going to call the voting now because we need to get the season brochure to the printer. The vote is evenly split between the Indiana Flag theme (#1) and the Phoenix Sans logo (#2). The third logo is a lot like the second, so I think it's safe to assume that, if we had a runoff between the first two, the majority of those who voted for #3 would vote for #2. I'm going to use that as a tie-breaker and call the Phoenix Sans logo the winner -- and the new logo of the Indiana Wind Symphony! Andy]