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#nagano went OFF with her design
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pain in crispy hd <3
I’m amazed by how telling and expressive their faces are. There are so many emotions in this scene and to see it so clearly makes me very appreciative of the artists and series as a whole but also... very very sad.
in addition: look at how hopeful Claire looks in comparison when she turns around to face Hershel:
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what was that sound? oh sorry that must have been my heart being shattered into little pieces.
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thekingofgear · 5 years
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(Photo by Chris Lee)
A few weeks ago, the New York Philharmonic gave two performances of Jonny Greenwood’s live score to There Will Be Blood. Mary Chun performed the ondes martenot part. Before the second performance, I met with Mary at Lincoln Center to discuss playing the score and the ondes martenot more broadly.
Chun is a San Francisco-based conductor and music director who’s renowned worldwide for her work in Opera and New Music. She’s collaborated with composers including John Adams and Olivier Messiaen, and given many key premiers of their works. With Earplay, she’s championed the chamber works of contemporary composers including Tristan Murail, Thomas Adès, and Krzysztof Penderecki. She’s directed musicals too, perhaps most notably in bringing Broadway plays like Man of La Mancha and Avenue Q to China. And on the ondes martenot, she’s performed early electronic works such as André Jolivet's Incantation and Ives’s Fourth Symphony, and served as a key interpreter of Messiaen’s works in the United States. Mary was also the cover conductor and one of the 3 ondistes in the 2003 San Francisco Opera’s production of Saint François d’Assise, the only production of Messiaen’s only opera in this country.
I wanted ask you about your approach to this score. Did you know the movie and score before you were approached?
Mary Chun: I have to confess that I was ignorant of it. I knew that Jonny was working a lot with ondes martenot. I got the music, I just sort of studied it, and I said, you know, this is very ondes-friendly. [Jonny] wrote really, really well for the ondes and wrote the best kind of expression that the ondes is good for.
How was that expression written into the score?
M: It was notated, like going from nothing and growing over a long period of time. And in fact there were bracketed dynamics, because they did the recording for the soundtrack – they had one set of dynamics that were very loud, but for live screening, it says in the score use the bracketed dynamics for live screening. So we can replicate the relationship with the dialogue and sound effects to the orchestra. So we’re playing softer dynamics than the soundtrack was recorded at. I was really curious about that as a musician, because of course if you crescendo to a double forte, you’re playing with a certain force and feeling, and certain molecules are vibrating differently to play really loud. But you have to subdue that: your whole scale drops down and everything about your performance also flattens out a little bit.
How does working with a movie over your head compare to an opera like Messiaen’s Saint François d'Assise, where you’re in the pit?
M: It’s pretty different, because if you’re playing opera or symphony you are the main event, you are what people are there for. If you’re playing movie soundtracks live – I do a lot, because I play synthesizers also, I just did a few harry potters this year – you’re basically backing up the film, and especially with Jonny’s score, where he really underpinned the unspoken emotions of the scene.
Do you just do live scoring, or have you played on soundtracks as well?
M: Both. Playing on soundtracks is actually fun, because you can play with full expression. They [compress] it in post production later. But doing it here, it’s sort of like you have to be really aware not to get too energetic.
That’s such a let down, in a way.
M: It is a little bit, because I can see the double sets of dynamics, I can see where it says piano to double forte. For the rest off the orchestra it was more of a challenge, because they’re used to playing acoustic more of the time, and for me-
Did you just turn it down a little?
M: No I didn’t. I thought about just putting the maximum volume lower, but I didn’t because I wanted to have that headroom. Probably the loudest you heard me was my mezzo forte.
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A photo of the stage at the David Geffen Hall, from what is probably the intermission of the second New York Philharmonic performance of There WIll Be Blood (tonylee333).
How did you adjust your instrument for this hall in particular?
M: It took me a couple of hours to get set, my ears to set, to figure out how I could hear it correctly to how other people could hear it. It was tricky. It’s an interesting acoustic, the Geffen hall… You notice I have all of my speakers together because partly it’s a space issue and partly because the performance is not “spatially-designed”. That is, the sound of the ondes is only needed to appear from one single location.
When did you actually get your ondes martenot?
M: ’85
So you have one of the very last transistor models, I imagine?
M: Yeah yeah, it’s like 385. When I bought my instrument, I was on a waiting list for Palme, and then they closed…
But it’s great that you have three originals diffusers that still work.
M: But I’m very, very fussy about how my instruments go out, how they come back, and I oversee everything physically. It went by a crate, by air freight. I felt confident, because I personally knew the person who built the crate. On my instrument, the only thing that’s been touched... I was really worried about the plugs: handmade French, just little tongues… you can’t replace those. So I had a technician friend who’s really big on sound design change them to RCA plugs, so I have RCA plugs. Oh, and I have a tuner. I only have my one single ondes from 1985. I didn’t really want to go further than what I had, because I was disappointed with the one I own, because I was trained on [a vacuum tube model]. It was so rich, so alive, it really had a heart-beat.
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A sixth-generation vacuum tube ondes Martenot from 1960 (photo by Andrew Garton).
I know that, if they work anymore, those have an amazing sound, right?
M: That’s why I fell in love with the instrument. When I first learned, I was young and stupid, I was assistant conductor to an orchestra in California, and we were doing a big Messiaen cycle, and my conductor, Kent Nagano, just says “Mary, I want you to play the ondes martenot solo in Turangalîla next year. I didn’t really know what that was. I mean, I loved Messiaen’s music, but-
So you just picked it up from that?
M: Well, because I was playing everything in the orchestra, I was playing keyboards, I was playing organ, I was playing harpsichord… I mean, I just didn’t say no to anything. you know, you’re just a starting musician and you don’t say no to anything. Plus it’s really interesting, it’s super interesting! So I said yes, I will play the ondes solo, and I saw a picture and said this looks like a keyboard… but of course when it came, it was not anything like that.
We found an old vacuum tube ondes that was owned by Ronnie Montrose, from Gamma. Ronnie was very interested as a guitarist, like Jonny Greenwood, in all these electronic instruments, so he bought one from Bernie Krause in LA, the sound effects guy. it didn’t really work when he bought it, but he tinkered with it, and actually improved it, stabilized it a little bit. So he brought it over to me and say “I’m going to lend [it] to the orchestra for the year, you can practice and learn it. Here’s the manual.” It was a little, typewritten thing, like five pages, that just described the buttons, the ring, the switches, the speakers.
So did you teach yourself?
M: Yeah, I taught myself. But then later, when I had fallen in love with the instrument, because that sound was so warm, the vacuum tubes were so warm, but it was so particular because it had to heat up for a certain amount of time to get tuned, and then if was on too long, it would go the other way, as you go up the keyboard it would roll down tritones.
We kept doing the Messiaen cycles, and then the Messiaens came to America and we worked with them, Olivier and Yvonne, and Jeanne Loriod. I became her interpreter, because I had worked in Lyon for a long time, and she gave me some master lessons, because we were playing Saint Francis together. She had heard about me, and I was so terrified to play for her, because I’m, you know, self-taught and she’s, you know, the Master. She only corrected a couple things about my technique, and the rest of it she said “no, you’re doing a great job.”
That was the US premier of Saint Francis, right?
M: It was the US premier of some scenes, you know it’s three and a half  hours. Later I did do the whole thing at the San Francisco opera. I was the associate conductor as well as one of the ondists, where I played with Genevieve [Grenier] and Jean [Laurendeau].
Were you running back and forth?
M: We had two associate [conductors] and myself, so I was [conducting] a lot of stage rehearsals, when we didn’t have the orchestra. But then when we had the orchestra again the director was conducting.
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A photo from the San Francisco Opera’s 2003 production of Saint François d’Assise (photo by Friedman).
You’re a conductor and an ondes player – do you think that if people want to learn it, they should learn something else too? I know [Jean] Laurendeau plays clarinet and ondes martenot. Is it an instrument best for multi-instrumentalists?
M: You know, it’s not at all keyboard-like, the sensation of playing. So when players take to it really well, because of the the fingering, the pitch identification first and the breath later, – you know, Geneviève, she’s a flutiest, and Jean is a clarinetist, and they took to it very well. I’ve had had violin friends come to my house, and they seem to manage it ok… but any of my keyboard friends are just whaaa? They just can’t deal with it.
Do you have any advice for young people who might want to pick up the ondes? Because you picked it up in such an usual way…
M: I was required to because I had an assignment to play it!
But you kept going!
M: Oh, because I fell in love with the instrument… I could not continue living if I did not have my own ondes. And if you have that passion go for it, get one, teach yourself or go to Paris! I mean, it’s an instrument, so people do this all the time – “oh, I want to learn to play the guitar, I’m going to buy a guitar…”
But there’s no rank and file musicians that play ondes martenot. There’s either people who specialize, or people who’ve never heard of it. There’s not ondes martenot in every home like guitar.
M: Not yet!
Not yet!
M: You know, Martenot himself had this idea – like you know how at one time in the US there were pianos in every house? He wanted to do that in France, because he made little ondes martenot – there’s still people in this country and in France who say “oh, I have this thing in the garage, this thing in the basement” – I was playing in Atlanta several years ago, and someone called the Atlanta Symphony and said “can I talk to your ondes martenot player, because we might have one?” he had the keyboard body, but no other parts. He didn’t have the speakers, he didn’t have the cables – it was an ondes made for US electricity.
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The U.S. women's hockey team hasn't won gold since 1998. Will the spell be broken in South Korea?
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The U.S. women's hockey team hasn't won gold since 1998. Will the spell be broken in South Korea?
Passion forming with every tighten of the lace
Years of the same routine perfected today
Rituals that are practiced and shared behind locker room doors.
— Kacey Bellamy
It could have been a disaster.
Hurricane Irma was on a path toward the Tampa, Florida, area on Sept. 9, and authorities were bracing for a direct hit. As it happened, the best women’s hockey players in the United States had just begun training in Wesley Chapel, a few miles north of Tampa International Airport.
Even though the NHL’s Tampa Bay Lightning had decided to evacuate its players, Team USA decided to shelter in place at the Saddlebrook Resort, where they were staying. One agent who was worried about his clients told USA Today, “Why isn’t the women’s team evacuated? Is it because they are just girls … to me this is stupid, they are our Olympic team.”
But Reagan Carey, the general manager for the team, had thought it through, even going so far as to find out the number and the strength of the steel trusses in the shelter area at the Saddlebrook Resort. So on Sunday morning, Sept. 10, the team members abandoned their apartments for the shelter, joining other evacuees to wait out the storm, which lost steam from its original designation as a Category 4. Still, 80 mph winds howled outside the building as Irma passed over. The women played cards, visited with Hilary Knight’s bulldog puppy, Winston, in a separate pet area, and made hockey fans out of their fellow refugees. Captain Meghan Duggan later called it “a big sleepover,” and by the next morning, they were able to return to their quarters and their lives.
“We were kind of scared,” said Kacey Bellamy, the veteran defenseman and one of six players who are in Pyeongchang for their third straight Olympics. “But the negative turned into a positive. It was a great bonding experience for us, the kind of thing that brings a team closer together. Plus, I learned how to play [the card game] euchre.”
By Tuesday, they were back to practicing and helping out in the community. Irma faded into a metaphor for a team that has had to weather a lot of storms over the years.
There was the crushing loss to Canada in the gold-medal game in Vancouver eight years ago. And the devastating 3-2 overtime loss in Sochi in 2014 that gave Canada its fourth straight gold medal. And the battle with USA Hockey last spring, when the women threatened to boycott the 2017 IIHF world championships if they weren’t given living expenses, travel accommodations and medal bonuses befitting representatives of the United States of America.
Not only did they win that battle, but they also went to Plymouth, Michigan, for the world championships and beat Canada 3-2 in overtime in the final — earning the team’s fourth consecutive title. “We’ve been through a lot together,” said Bellamy, now an assistant captain on the team. “I think that’s made us stronger.”
Resilience is part and parcel of hockey, but for female players — who often start out playing with the boys, who give up the comfort of home, who fight off waves of challengers and adjust to a succession of coaches all to pursue their Olympic dreams — well, you just bounce off the boards.
You might even write a poem about the sport you love.
World champ and Olympian Kacey Bellamy (22) watched the gold medal slip away from her team to archrival Canada in two consecutive Winter Olympics. She’s looking for gold in Pyeongchang. AP Photo/Julio Cortez, File
Actions that are defined as the norm within the team
Replaying the past of one game, one play, one second
That has triggered one year of training against that one team.
It was a disaster.
What happened in Sochi’s Bolshoy Ice Dome on March 6, 2014, is excruciating to watch, even four years later. Team USA had a 2-0 lead on Team Canada late in the third period of the gold-medal game. But with 3:26 left in the game, Canada’s Brianne Jenner fired a shot that would’ve gone wide had it not ricocheted off Bellamy’s right leg and past goalie Jessie Vetter. Coach Katey Stone clapped her hands and told the team not to panic, that they were OK.
As time wound down, Canada pulled goalie Shannon Szabados, and Team USA’s Kelli Stack got off a clearing shot that headed for the empty net … and bounced off the left side of the left post. “When those things start to happen in the game of hockey,” Stone later said, “you start to wonder if it is your night.”
It wasn’t. Just 55 seconds away from finally beating Canada for the gold, Marie-Philip Poulin tied the score at 2-2 to send the game into overtime. Team USA had its chances in OT — the left-handed Bellamy almost ripped one past Szabados — but then the refs made some questionable calls, leaving the U.S. short-handed at just the wrong time. At 8:10 of overtime, Poulin fired the game winner past Vetter.
Imagine what it was like watching the Canadians celebrate and then waiting around to accept your silver medals.
“All that work, all that hope,” said Bellamy. “Gone just like that. It took me five months to get over it. March, April, May, June, July. I’m big on watching videos of games, but I didn’t look at that one until August. I needed to get my motivation back.”
Part of that motivation has to do with the team that beat the Americans, the team that always seems to beat them. USA vs. Canada in women’s hockey is one of the greatest rivalries in all of sports. It started way back in 1916 and captivated the world when women’s hockey debuted as an Olympic sport at Nagano in 1998. The U.S. won that gold-medal game, but the Canadians have won every Olympics since.
The rivalry is so intense that 10 fighting majors were handed out in one 2013 game, resulting in six U.S. players and five Canadians crammed into the penalty boxes. But they are also friends who share a love of the sport and often play on the same collegiate and pro teams. Caroline Ouellette and Julie Chu, one-time captains of Teams Canada and USA, respectively, first met at the Salt Lake City Games in 2002 and are now coaching at Concordia University in Montreal together while raising Liv Chu-Ouellette, born to Caroline last November.
After 20 years of rivalry, if it boils down to these two for the gold medal in Pyeongchang, who will have the edge?
Do Jordan Greenway and the NHL-less U.S. men have enough firepower to fend off Canada, Finland and OAR? And will the American women gain revenge on their archrival and strike gold for the first time since 1988? Here’s who will take home the hardware.
After helping Team USA to two world championships and a silver medal in Sochi, and then overcoming a crippling concussion, Amanda Kessel has her sights set on gold at the Pyeongchang Olympics. But off the ice, her future is a little more complicated.
2 Related
Both shielded by different armor
Separated by a simple borderline
Sharing the same frenzy for the sport and rivalry
Colors, countries, teammates
All united on the same ice
Bellamy, a women’s studies major at the University of New Hampshire, likes to write poetry in her spare time. “They’re mostly about nature and people,” she said. “But I did write this one about hockey.” In fact, USA Hockey used the poem for a video to promote the “Bring On The World” tour before the last Olympics.
That’s Bellamy’s voice narrating her words in the video, an ode to the challenges of the sport in general, and the rivalry in particular. There is a depth of feeling to the poem that explains why and how Bellamy and the other five three-timers have stayed at the top of the American team for so long, through three different coaches (Mark Johnson, Stone, Robb Stauber) and all the ups and downs.
“Eight years ago, I was just a rookie with my eyes wide open, in awe of where I was, who I was playing with,” said Bellamy. “Now I’m 31 and still in awe of the responsibility. The Olympics is about more than the rivalry with Canada. It’s about representing the country. It’s about showing people how beautiful women’s hockey can be. It’s about the little girls with sticks, the little girls we used to be.”
Two years ago, Bellamy wrote a powerful “Letter to My Younger Self” for The Players Tribune. Addressed to 15-year-old Kacey, she recalled leaving behind her family and friends in Westfield, Massachusetts, to attend the Berkshire School and how the first two weeks “are going to be the worst two weeks of your life.” She told her about the friends and coaches who changed her life, about getting her heart broken when she was cut from USA Hockey’s under-22 team, about using the rejection as motivation to make the senior national team.
“You’re going to play for the U.S. team for a long time,” she wrote. “But never take anything for granted. Make the most of the opportunities you have.”
Each playing for the crest on the front of the jersey
And sticking up for every name on the back
Relax. Just like in Tampa, it might not be the disaster they’re predicting.
Some people who care deeply about Team USA worry that Pyeongchang will be as much a disappointment as Sochi or Vancouver or Turin or Salt Lake City were. They wonder why Stauber, a former NHL goalie who assisted Stone in Sochi, didn’t name any female assistants to his staff. And while he did coach the team to the world championship last April, and beat Canada 5-1 to win the Four Nations Cup on Nov. 12, Team USA has lost the past four games to Canada in its pre-Olympic warm-up.
A 2-1 overtime loss to Canada at the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul, Minnesota, on Dec. 3 was particularly painful because the tying goal was scored by Poulin and the winning goal by Jenner, their Sochi nemeses. And it happened in front of members of the 1998 USA Olympic team, who were honored between periods for the United States’ only gold medal.
Afterward, Stauber said, “For us, it’s not necessarily about the 20 years, but more about, ‘It’s time.’ We’ve got to bring home a gold medal. We’ve got a pretty good vision. We’re sticking with it, and we like our direction.”
That direction included the addition of three players since Irma: defenders Cayla Barnes and Sidney Morin and forward Haley Skarupa. When the final roster was named after the second period of the Winter Classic at Citi Field on Jan. 1, veterans Bellamy, Duggan, Knight, Monique Lamoureux-Morando, Jocelyne Lamoureux-Davidson and Gigi Marvin were on it, but forward Alex Carpenter, Team USA’s leading scorer in Sochi, and defender Megan Bozek were not — leading some to speculate that they did not buy into Stauber’s system.
Stauber stresses a controlled possession game that sometimes takes the puck back into the neutral zone. As for the lack of a female coach, he does rely on his veterans to help the younger players. Bellamy has been working with the 18-year-old Barnes, who had been getting ready to play for Boston College when she was asked to report to Wesley Chapel. “She’s wise beyond her years,” says Bellamy. “Very poised … she’s just wonderful to have around the locker room.”
While the recent results against Canada have been disappointing, it’s worth keeping in mind that in the American men’s last exhibition game with the Soviet Union before the 1980 “Miracle on Ice” game, Team USA was crushed 10-3.
In Pyeongchang, both archrivals beat Finland and the Russians in the first two games of Group A play — though there was some hand-wringing as the U.S. got off to slow starts in the first period of both games. It was Bellamy who broke the ice at 8:02 of the first period of the victory over the Russians, stepping into the attack off a pass from Jocelyne Lamoureux-Davidson and firing a seeing-eye shot past Russian goalie Valeria Tarakanova. Team USA then put the game away in the second period, thanks to a more aggressive mindset and two goals by Lamoureux-Davidson within six seconds — an Olympic record.
By winning those first two prelims, Canada and Team USA assured themselves of a place in the semifinals, meaning that their game tomorrow means nothing… and their next one everything.
“We’re starting with a clean slate in South Korea,” says Bellamy. “This time will be different.”
Or, as she once wrote:
Mistakes lead to success
Errors lead to victory
Pride leads to gold
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bigyack-com · 4 years
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Crazy Mascots Flooded Japan. Can This Grouchy Boar Survive?
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NAGANO, Japan — The mayor of Misato, a remote village of 4,700 people in rugged western Japan, laid down an ultimatum early last year: The local mascot character, Misabo, must prove his worth. Or else.Misabo, a gloomy boar with a mountain on his head who wears whale overalls hiked up to his snout, has the daunting job of promoting the village as a tourism destination. He waddled into the world in 2013, as a mascot craze swept Japan and hundreds of the country’s graying and shrinking towns turned to colorful, often wacky characters to lure visitors and investment.Now, as their tax bases dwindle along with their populations, communities like Misato are increasingly questioning whether the whimsy is worth the cost in public spending. In the absence of much evidence that the characters are delivering economic benefits, the answer for many towns in the grip of Japan’s demographic crisis has been to quietly mothball them.“It was a boom without any reality,” said Akihiko Inuyama, an author and designer who wrote a book about the mascot industry.It is impossible to know exactly how many mascots, who plug their hometowns as both illustrated characters and humans in costumes, have been liquidated. For most, the end comes with the stroke of a bureaucrat’s pen, not a formal announcement. But industry numbers hint at the toll.Sun.Mold, a manufacturer of mascot costumes, said that orders had dropped by about half from their peak five or six years ago, when the company was producing 20 to 40 outfits a month for the characters, known as yuru-chara.More dramatic evidence came last November at the Yuru-chara Grand Prix, an annual gathering to crown Japan’s king of cute.For a select few, the Grand Prix has been a springboard to riches. Kumamoto, a sparsely populated prefecture on the southern island of Kyushu, reaped a $1.2 billion economic windfall in the two years after its mascot, Kumamon, won the first Grand Prix, in 2011, according to a study by the Bank of Japan.“It was thanks to Kumamon that yuru-chara became a national phenomenon,” said Shuichiro Nishi, the creative force behind the competition.When the charmingly plump black bear with rosy red cheeks won the event, the country was still reeling from the catastrophic tsunami and nuclear disaster that had struck northern Japan months earlier. People were “clamoring” for a sense of national connection, Mr. Nishi said.Kumamon moved mountains of merchandise and drove up tourism. Hit mascots can also lift tax revenue thanks to a program, introduced in 2008, that allows citizens to direct a portion of their income taxes to the locality of their choice.Inspired by Kumamon’s success, local governments rushed to cash in. As the characters became fixtures on national airwaves, Mr. Inuyama said, the media “tricked people into thinking yuru-chara were making money,” and local governments “went along for the ride.”More and more, though, it looks like the end of the road. The number of characters in this November’s Grand Prix, held in Nagano, was down a third from the peak of about 1,700 in 2015. Many of the entrants did not even bother to show up. And officials, seeing the writing on the wall, announced that the 2020 contest would be the last.Misabo’s handlers, however, were not about to give up.The mayor had given them one year to show that the character was worth the tens of thousands of dollars that taxpayers had spent on him.With the deadline quickly approaching, the team was hoping for an upset victory at the Grand Prix.“We need to make the Top 10,” said Ayami Nakada, an employee of the town hall, who had flown to Nagano with two co-workers.“We don’t know what’s going to happen, but I think it’s important that we stay focused,” she said.It was a long shot. Misabo, who looks less like a cuddly friend than a guy who just spilled his beer at Oktoberfest, finished in 339th place in the 2018 Grand Prix — a result that may or may not have been affected by a vote-rigging scandal that year.Since then, Misato’s officials had worked hard and pushed his ranking into the mid-20s. But as voting was drawing to a close, he was still tens of thousands of votes behind the top competitors.The characters have their roots in the 1980s, when local government mascots first began appearing. They were a natural fit for a country where adorable characters like Hello Kitty are used to sell everything from microwaves to motor oil.The positioning of mascots as ambassadors for ailing local governments let fans see their hobby as a kind of virtuous consumption or even a public service.“They represent the national character,” said Masumi Shindo, who had come to the Grand Prix to support Nagano’s mascot, Arukuma, a bear with an apple on his head. “They energize us. When I see them working hard, it makes me want to do my best.”As mascots flooded the market, character development began to look like a Japanese Mad Lib: Use a local animal as a base. Combine it with a famous local snack or architectural highlight. Give it a terrible pun for a name. Profit!The results were often endearingly surreal. Narita, home to Tokyo’s largest international airport, dreamed up a plush eel with jet engines.But the novelty quickly wore off. Copycats were everywhere: Froglike water spirits called Kappa proliferated, and after Sanomaru — a dog with a bowl of ramen on its head — won the 2013 Grand Prix, other animals sporting Japanese noodles popped up.Misabo made his debut that same year. A local government employee created the character. The first suit cost around $7,200, and the village has since ordered a second one.With little to set it apart from the many other localities that have also fallen on hard times, Misato leaned heavily on Misabo.The character’s grumpy disposition was a good fit for his home prefecture’s brand. Shimane, which is one of the poorest and least populated areas in Japan, has turned its obscurity into a resource. In 2011, a calendar created by the local government and filled with self-deprecating jokes about the locals became a surprise hit in Japan.Misato made Misabo merchandise. It started a YouTube channel. It came up with a dance, the Misabo Samba. It built a slick tourism website prominently featuring the character. It even designed a series of stickers that fans could buy and send to each other on the chat app Line.Still, nothing seemed to stick. Officials began to wonder if it was time to put Misabo out to pasture.Hoping to drum up some publicity, early last year Misato’s mayor called a news conference and threatened to fire the character. At one point, government employees held Misabo back as he tried to take a swing at his boss. The story was picked up by the national broadcaster, NHK, and it played well on social media, lifting the mascot’s profile.But Misabo’s moment in the spotlight had been brief. On the last day of the Grand Prix, with his job on the line, his odds looked as grim as his countenance.His team pinned their aspirations on skipping rope.“We’re hoping that winning the jump-rope contest will give us a boost,” Ms. Nakada, the town employee, said as her co-worker did some calisthenics nearby, preparing to strap himself into the unwieldy suit and skip for all he was worth.After a failed initial attempt, he managed 47 jumps, handily putting him in first place.In the end, though, it was not enough to overcome the other mascots’ considerable advantages. When the votes were tallied, he came in 24th.But fear not for Misabo, at least for now. The results seem to have satisfied the mayor. He has agreed to let Misabo mope along for another year.Hisako Ueno contributed reporting from Tokyo. Read the full article
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presumenothing · 7 years
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hypotenuse
for Poirot Café’s SS#24: scarf, and my other favourite (and ludicrously underrepresented) characters.
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(AO3)
The scarf comes a gift from Kan-chan.
...insofar as "gift" equates to an elegantly wrapped box she finds on the morning of her second day at the prefectural headquarters, looking rather out of place on her desk amidst the (already accumulating) paperwork.
She doesn't even need to open it to know what's inside – the delicately embossed logo alone is hint enough. And given that she remembers having mentioned it as her favourite brand over one of their recent dinners...
It's a luxury item, more than she could ever afford on an officer's salary (or even now as a detective), and he's just left it sitting on her work desk.
Typical.
Honestly, Yui thinks she could wring the man by his neck sometimes. Kai-senpai would agree, no doubt.
Luckily, it's early enough that the office is still mostly empty (at least of people who aren't staring blearily into their coffee cups in search of wakefulness), so Yui covers the box with her coat as she sets her bag down and starts up her computer. Kan-chan might be able to get away with his reputation for flouting rules or ignoring them entirely, but Yui's fought tooth and nail for this position and she fully intends to stay.
She's just about to start reading her new emails – which hopefully includes the coroner's preliminary findings from the murder case they'd received yesterday, or Kan-chan (well, Yamato-keibu) will start breathing possibly literal fire – when there's a voice from behind her. "Already at work, I see, Uehara-keiji?"
Yui turns to find the other inspector holding two takeaway cups from the nearby cafe. "Ah, Morofushi-keibu, good morning!"
He nods briskly, and sets one of the cups down on her desk. "I thought I would spare you from experiencing the breakroom coffee this early on, but I see Kansuke-kun has bested me on that front."
"That..." Yui trails off, then realises that a vague outline of the box is still visible under her coat. "Oh! Yes, I found it on my table this morning."
"Honestly," Morofushi-keibu mutters, almost despairingly, so they're clearly in agreement there. "I did offer my assistance with any plans he had, but I needn't tell you how that went. Let's hope it's at least a passable design."
"I'm sure it'll be fine," Yui answers, carefully avoiding thoughts of the scarce few times (disasters, more accurately) that they'd let Kan-chan pick his non-work outfits without supervision. "Thank you for the coffee, and please look after me from now on!"
"It's nothing. I intended to congratulate you yesterday, but I got called out on a case." He pauses. "Also, I quite assure you it runs both ways now."
Yui blinks. "Eh?"
"With you ar–"
(The words are interrupted by a very familiar outburst from Kan-chan's slightly ajar door: "–t do you mean, you haven't got a cause of death yet? Do I have to wait for those bodies to dissect themselves? One–")
"–around, as I was saying," he continues with a pointedly raised eyebrow, "at least one of us might actually get work done around here. So I'm counting on you as well, Yui-san."
She definitely doesn't manage to stifle her laugh this time. "Understood, sir!"
Morofushi-keibu smiles faintly before heading off to his office and leaving Yui to her work.
Which is just as well – she might be an expert in Kansuke-wrangling, yes, but he's going to have her head all the same if he catches her slacking off, and talking to Koumei of all people would definitely qualify.
So Yui puts the box away in a drawer for later, takes a generous sip of the coffee (strong and black, just the way she likes it), and starts her second day as a detective.
(Kai-senpai will be proud to hear it, she thinks, making a mental note to call him later over lunch – and this time she'll make sure Kan-chan gets on the phone too, even if she has to blackmail him into doing it.
Yui still has photos from his last fashion fiasco that she's quite sure he doesn't know abou–
– oh god, she hopes it's not one of those garish samurai prints he'd really been into at one point. Even tartan would be better than that.)
.
(The scarf is tartan, as it turns out, a pattern of pale colours on velvety silk that she wouldn't have picked for herself but looks... surprisingly good, actually, given Kan-chan's dismal track record.
Morofushi-keibu agrees after a long moment of consideration, and Yui ends up having to break up another of their arguments somewhere in between – but really, she thinks, she wouldn't have it any other way.)
-
-
look its almost 2am and i wrote this on mobile in less than three hours so there are probably errors but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 
(in case it isn't Obvious, this takes place ~6 years prior to canon, aka before Kai's death)
((also @ gosho i will pay you 20 $ for more nagano files pLS THANK U,,))
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raidomere · 7 years
Text
Matsuoka Ippei’s 100 Questions, 100 Answers
From the Matsoka and Imai’s RADIO N WING page.
Q1. What is your name? Matsuoka Ippei!
Q2. Your job? A voice actor!
Q3. Your nickname? Ippee-chan, Ippee-kun. People often call me by my name.
Q4. Your height? 163 cm, but I still grow a couple of millimeters every year.
Q5. Your dominant arm is? Left
Q6. Your blood type is? AB. In fact, my entire family is AB!
Q7. Your hobbies are? Watching overseas soccer games; playing videogames (regardless of genre)
Q8. Your skills are? Sneezing; holding toilet paper rolls with my eyes (t/n: i dont know either); doing a baseball bat spin/the dizzy bat and then running straight ahead
Q9. Do you have any habits? Rubbing my nose; playing around with my bangs
Q10. What’s the first thing you do when waking up in the morning? Taking a bath!
Q11. What would be the best way to spend your days off? Invite some friends over and just chill
Q12. What are you into lately? Pokemon; watching Professional (t/n: the NHK show?)
Q13. Do you have anything that you just end up buying unconsciously? Food in general - even if I’m not hungry I buy food *laughs*
Q14. Your favorite food? Cucumber! I can eat as many as I like!
Q15. Food/s you don’t like? Banana
Q16. Your favorite book/s? Information magazines about overseas soccer games, or about games
Q17. Your favorite movie/s? Marvel Series; Transformers Series; Returner
Q18. Your favorite character/s? Gatomon (Digimon); Kazamatsuri Shou (Whistle!)
Q19. Your favorite song/s? “Umi no Koe” (Voice of the Sea) by Kiritani Kenta
Q20. Do you have any special qualifications/licenses? A driver’s permit for manual vehicles only!
Q21. What led you to pursue your current career? I’ve always liked anime and games, and I just happened to listen to a radio show being hosted by a voice actor - I found it interesting, and while reading about what a “voice actor” was, before I realized it had become something I aimed to become! It’s the only occupation I’ve ever considered as something I wanted to achieve!
Q22. Do you have a daily routine? Styling my hair. Drinking lots of water once I wake up in the morning.
Q23. Are you an indoor person? Or an outdoor person? Indoor person. I would stay inside my room all the time if I could *laughs*
Q24. Any dishes you’re good at cooking? Meat and potato stew!
Q25. How long is your average sleeping time? 4 to 5 hours.
Q26. What do you do on nights you can’t fall asleep? Watch overseas dramas.
Q27. Do you have a six-pack? I do not!
Q28. If you had a time machine, would you like to go back to the past? Or to the future? If I had to choose - the past! If I could I wouldn’t want to go back or go to the future, but I definitely don’t want to see the future!
Q29. Your childhood hero? My parents.
Q30. On the day the world ends, what would you eat? Cucumbers.
Q31. If you could decide the name of a planet, what would you name it? “Matsuoka Ippei’s Planet” - I want people to be curious and look up my name! *laughs*
Q32. Your favorite season? Winter! I’m from Nagano Prefecture so I’m strong with cold weather, and I love snow!
Q33. Your favorite place? My room.
Q34. How do you relieve stress? Drinking with friends! And then karaoke!
Q35. Something you’re bad at? Exercising in general… I feel like I’m becoming a performer with terrible reflexes.
Q36. Something you think you’ve improved at recently? Enjoying the feeling of nervousnesss
Q37. A skill you’d like to continue improving from now on? Acting ability, singing skill, dance.
Q38. Something you feel is your weakness? I still get nervous easily. And overwhelmed.
Q39. Something you’ve been concerned about recently? I gained a bit of weight!
Q40. Something you’d be glad if you were told such? If I’m being praised then anything’ll make me happy *laughs*
Q41. Your ideal image of a man is? Someone who keeps a firm grip on his views and can share those with others.
Q42. Your ideal image of a woman is? A gentle person who smiles a lot!
Q43. Something you’d like to try eating at least once? Crab shabu-shabu!
Q44. Somewhere you’d like to go at least once? Spain! I want to see an actual overseas soccer game live!
Q45. Your favorite sport? Of course, soccer!
Q46. Your favorite flower? Dandelions
Q47. Your favorite animal? Dog
Q48. If you were to liken yourself to something, what would be it? A dog! People tell me I have a dog-like face, and I always want to be with someone (I don’t like being alone).
Q49. Someone who’s greatly influenced your life? My mother
Q50. Your hometown is? Shimoina District, Nagano Prefecture
Q51. Your favorite place from your hometown? Places with nothing much in them! *laughs*
Q52. Something you’re proud of about your hometown? The air is delicious! Greenery everywhere! Time flows very slowly!
Q53. Your favorite food from your hometown? Matsutake rice! They even serve it at school for lunch.
Q54. Your treasure? Letters I receive from fans!
Q55. What title would you give your life until now? Turnabout
Q56. If you were reborn, what would you like to become? A soccer player!
Q57. The first thing you wash when taking a bath? Hair
Q58. When you did have your first love? Year 3 in primary school!
Q59. What would you want to name your son? Nippei (I want it to keep increasing every generation *laughs*) (t/n: the “i” in “ippei” means “one”, and the “ni” in “nippei” means “two”)
Q60. What would you want to name your daughter? Haruka (I’m a fan of Ayase Haruka *laughs*)
Q61. What would be the one thing you’d bring with you on an uninhabited island? Cucumber seeds!
Q62. Your best song during karaoke? Umi no Koe (Voice of the Sea) by Kiritani Kenta
Q63. The amount of money you’d like to win in the lottery is? 3 hundred million yen!
Q64. (continuation of Q63) What will you do with that money? Build or buy my dream house! In any case, I’ll use it all up to buy my ideal home/room!
Q65. The scariest thing in the world is? Isolation.
Q66. Who do you want to meet the most right now? My mother
Q67. Instruments you can play? None!
Q68. Instruments you’d like to try? Guitar. I like those things where you sing to your own accompaniment…!
Q69. Clothes you often wear? A parka with a dog design; a parka with a Peanuts design
Q70. Clothes you’d like to wear? Flashy, rock clothes I’d never even try to wear! Like a bright red leather jacket or something! *laughs*
Q71. Someone you personally think is a stylish person? (Can be a friend or a celebrity) Sakai Kodai-san! He’s very slender, and even he can wear leather jackets and all, it’s amazing…!
Q72. Do you see yourself as the cute type? Or the cool type? If I had to choose, I’m more of the cute type! Because I am in no way cool!
Q73. Do you think you’re an S? Or an M? Unexpectedly, not an S, but an M who waits for a counterblow.
Q74. A gesture of the opposite sex you find sexy? Coming up their hair!
Q75. What club were you in during middle school? None (t/n: going-home club). I was part of the Tennis Club for a bit, but when I found out we had to get crew cuts I quit!
Q76. What club were you in during high school? None
Q77. Your current ambition? I want to become a voice actor that’s popular! For starters, to be able to pass an audition to become the main character!
Q78. Your favorite athlete is? Fredy Guarín (soccer)
Q79. Your favorite military commander is? Sakamoto Ryuuma
Q80. Mountain person? Ocean person? I’m bad with bugs so ocean person!
Q81. Are you good at operating machines? I haven’t had any trouble with those so I think I’m pretty good at it!
Q82. Do you have a favorite motto? All smiles!
Q83. Do you have any part-time job experience? (What are they?) Pharmacy, and cafe!
Q84. A recent embarassing story: After getting a physical examination at the hospital, I went home wearing the hospital slippers.
Q85. Do you think you’re the type who cries easily? I’m no doubt the type who cries easily. I cry easily, a quick kill.
Q86. Something that made you cry recently? I bawled my eyes out watching Big Hero 6 on TV (even though I already watched it once in the cinema).
Q87. Something you laughed about recently? I usually laugh a lot so I can’t remember *laughs*
Q88. Your favorite anime is? The Digimon Series! Especially 02!
Q89. The game you’ve played the most until now? The FIFA Series
Q90. Do you have anything you listen on the radio often? [Atsumare] MasaKano Henshuubu!
Q91. Is there any segment you remember? Weekly! MasaKano Review! (A talk corner promoting various anime or voice actor-related news) God’s Prediction Corner! (Leaving a message at listener’ answering machine)
Q92. Have you sent mail/contributed to radio shows before? I have! They’ve read it a couple of times!
Q93. A radio personality you look up to? Onosaka Masaya-san; Kano Yui-san
Q94. What do you want to try doing on a radio show? In any case, work on talking! I want to be able to talk to even senpai without being hesitant!
Q95. What kind of show do you want to try? Same with what I experienced, I want it try a show where the people listening who don’t know much about voice acting can become more interested in voice acting!!
Q96. Something you’d like a woman to wear? If I had to choose skirts or pants, I’d choose pants, since I like active people!
Q97. Something you’d want a woman to say to you? I like you.
Q98. If you could go back to being a child, what would you like to do? Soccer!
Q99. Something you’d like to do in this show? In any case, talk! Ah, and if possible, I want to try eating delicious things and try doing something like gourmet reports! *laughs*
Q100. What do you think of Imai Asami-san? When I first talked to her I found her very kind and cheerful, and I wanted to become someone like her! A huge senpai of mine who I respect as an actor and a person! I like her very much!
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mastcomm · 4 years
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Crazy Mascots Flooded Japan. Can This Grouchy Boar Survive?
NAGANO, Japan — The mayor of Misato, a remote village of 4,700 people in rugged western Japan, laid down an ultimatum early last year: The local mascot character, Misabo, must prove his worth. Or else.
Misabo, a gloomy boar with a mountain on his head who wears whale overalls hiked up to his snout, has the daunting job of promoting the village as a tourism destination. He waddled into the world in 2013, as a mascot craze swept Japan and hundreds of the country’s graying and shrinking towns turned to colorful, often wacky characters to lure visitors and investment.
Now, as their tax bases dwindle along with their populations, communities like Misato are increasingly questioning whether the whimsy is worth the cost in public spending. In the absence of much evidence that the characters are delivering economic benefits, the answer for many towns in the grip of Japan’s demographic crisis has been to quietly mothball them.
“It was a boom without any reality,” said Akihiko Inuyama, an author and designer who wrote a book about the mascot industry.
It is impossible to know exactly how many mascots, who plug their hometowns as both illustrated characters and humans in costumes, have been liquidated. For most, the end comes with the stroke of a bureaucrat’s pen, not a formal announcement. But industry numbers hint at the toll.
Sun.Mold, a manufacturer of mascot costumes, said that orders had dropped by about half from their peak five or six years ago, when the company was producing 20 to 40 outfits a month for the characters, known as yuru-chara.
More dramatic evidence came last November at the Yuru-chara Grand Prix, an annual gathering to crown Japan’s king of cute.
For a select few, the Grand Prix has been a springboard to riches. Kumamoto, a sparsely populated prefecture on the southern island of Kyushu, reaped a $1.2 billion economic windfall in the two years after its mascot, Kumamon, won the first Grand Prix, in 2011, according to a study by the Bank of Japan.
“It was thanks to Kumamon that yuru-chara became a national phenomenon,” said Shuichiro Nishi, the creative force behind the competition.
When the charmingly plump black bear with rosy red cheeks won the event, the country was still reeling from the catastrophic tsunami and nuclear disaster that had struck northern Japan months earlier. People were “clamoring” for a sense of national connection, Mr. Nishi said.
Kumamon moved mountains of merchandise and drove up tourism. Hit mascots can also lift tax revenue thanks to a program, introduced in 2008, that allows citizens to direct a portion of their income taxes to the locality of their choice.
Inspired by Kumamon’s success, local governments rushed to cash in. As the characters became fixtures on national airwaves, Mr. Inuyama said, the media “tricked people into thinking yuru-chara were making money,” and local governments “went along for the ride.”
More and more, though, it looks like the end of the road. The number of characters in this November’s Grand Prix, held in Nagano, was down a third from the peak of about 1,700 in 2015. Many of the entrants did not even bother to show up. And officials, seeing the writing on the wall, announced that the 2020 contest would be the last.
Misabo’s handlers, however, were not about to give up.
The mayor had given them one year to show that the character was worth the tens of thousands of dollars that taxpayers had spent on him.
With the deadline quickly approaching, the team was hoping for an upset victory at the Grand Prix.
“We need to make the Top 10,” said Ayami Nakada, an employee of the town hall, who had flown to Nagano with two co-workers.
“We don’t know what’s going to happen, but I think it’s important that we stay focused,” she said.
It was a long shot. Misabo, who looks less like a cuddly friend than a guy who just spilled his beer at Oktoberfest, finished in 339th place in the 2018 Grand Prix — a result that may or may not have been affected by a vote-rigging scandal that year.
Since then, Misato’s officials had worked hard and pushed his ranking into the mid-20s. But as voting was drawing to a close, he was still tens of thousands of votes behind the top competitors.
The characters have their roots in the 1980s, when local government mascots first began appearing. They were a natural fit for a country where adorable characters like Hello Kitty are used to sell everything from microwaves to motor oil.
The positioning of mascots as ambassadors for ailing local governments let fans see their hobby as a kind of virtuous consumption or even a public service.
“They represent the national character,” said Masumi Shindo, who had come to the Grand Prix to support Nagano’s mascot, Arukuma, a bear with an apple on his head. “They energize us. When I see them working hard, it makes me want to do my best.”
As mascots flooded the market, character development began to look like a Japanese Mad Lib: Use a local animal as a base. Combine it with a famous local snack or architectural highlight. Give it a terrible pun for a name. Profit!
The results were often endearingly surreal. Narita, home to Tokyo’s largest international airport, dreamed up a plush eel with jet engines.
But the novelty quickly wore off. Copycats were everywhere: Froglike water spirits called Kappa proliferated, and after Sanomaru — a dog with a bowl of ramen on its head — won the 2013 Grand Prix, other animals sporting Japanese noodles popped up.
Misabo made his debut that same year. A local government employee created the character. The first suit cost around $7,200, and the village has since ordered a second one.
With little to set it apart from the many other localities that have also fallen on hard times, Misato leaned heavily on Misabo.
The character’s grumpy disposition was a good fit for his home prefecture’s brand. Shimane, which is one of the poorest and least populated areas in Japan, has turned its obscurity into a resource. In 2011, a calendar created by the local government and filled with self-deprecating jokes about the locals became a surprise hit in Japan.
Misato made Misabo merchandise. It started a YouTube channel. It came up with a dance, the Misabo Samba. It built a slick tourism website prominently featuring the character. It even designed a series of stickers that fans could buy and send to each other on the chat app Line.
Still, nothing seemed to stick. Officials began to wonder if it was time to put Misabo out to pasture.
Hoping to drum up some publicity, early last year Misato’s mayor called a news conference and threatened to fire the character. At one point, government employees held Misabo back as he tried to take a swing at his boss. The story was picked up by the national broadcaster, NHK, and it played well on social media, lifting the mascot’s profile.
But Misabo’s moment in the spotlight had been brief. On the last day of the Grand Prix, with his job on the line, his odds looked as grim as his countenance.
His team pinned their aspirations on skipping rope.
“We’re hoping that winning the jump-rope contest will give us a boost,” Ms. Nakada, the town employee, said as her co-worker did some calisthenics nearby, preparing to strap himself into the unwieldy suit and skip for all he was worth.
After a failed initial attempt, he managed 47 jumps, handily putting him in first place.
In the end, though, it was not enough to overcome the other mascots’ considerable advantages. When the votes were tallied, he came in 24th.
But fear not for Misabo, at least for now. The results seem to have satisfied the mayor. He has agreed to let Misabo mope along for another year.
Hisako Ueno contributed reporting from Tokyo.
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From A Gold Medal Olympic Snowboarder: How Cannabis Improves Training
Olympic medalist Ross Rebagliati explains how cannabis enhances athletic training, what it was like to obtain his medal removed for screening favorable for THC, why he chooses edibles and more.
The day after Ross Rebagliati ended up being the very first guy ever to catch the gold medal for snowboarding in the 1998 Winter Season Olympics in Nagano, Japan, judges removed the medal from him after discovering elevated levels of THC in his blood. Snowboarding’s first year in the Olympics had the resin of bong water on it, and the discovery unleashed a media frenzy around the 26-year-old champion.
Rebagliati, who is Canadian, ultimately recovered his medal. Technically, THC wasn’t listed as an efficiency boosting drug– yet. Still, the brouhaha left Rebagliati’s reputation stained and turned him in the minds of numerous from a winner to a loser. Media mauled him for being a poor role design, his sponsors bailed and Rebagliati lost the focus needed to compete.
“I wasn’t recognized for what I had achieved but for something prohibited,” he says today.
“I was more or less outcast. Regular World Cup competitors needs One Hundred Percent focus: No interruptions, no girlfriends, no problems at home, lots of loan. All of a sudden I had no cash and lots of distractions.”
Unlike the majority of Olympic professional athletes, Rebagliati has never ever avoided being an outspoken advocate for marijuana, even though it is still shunned by those who run the world of sports. At 42, he now runs Ross’s Gold, a cannabis branding business and dispensary situated in his hometown, Kelowna, British Columbia (the home of BC Bud), where he copes with his better half and three children. We caught up with Rebagliati to talk about Nagano, pot as an efficiency enhancer and his own hemp regimen.
Ross Rebagliati: Let me tell you about 3 moments, two great, one bad, all taking place the exact same day. They all involve kids. I got a lot fan mail. One little lady called her goldfish after me. Another little lady drew an image of me and stated she hopes her papa matures to be like me. One young boy’s daddy wouldn’t let him have my sign because he didn’t desire me associated with his son. That hurt.
Ever  since Nagano, you’ve preserved that marijuana is not a performance enhancer. Do you still feel that way?
In an ambiguous way. You won’t have the ability to run faster or jump higher after using marijuana. But it breaks the uniformity of repeated workouts where you remain in the gym for three hours a day, 6 days a week. During the off season, athletes frequently feel uninspired– the consistent training, the repetition, the lack of social life. Cannabis provides me motivation to obtain up early to go to the gym when it’s still dark exterior. Jet lag is another huge problem when you’re on the road. If you do not get the correct amount of sleep, it produces more tension in other areas. Cannabis is a fantastic sleep enhancer. Quotes say that HALF of basketball gamers utilize cannabis. Is marijuana the big open trick in all sports?
It has a lot to do with their background and exactly what part of the country they are from. There are lots of professional athletes who will not utilize it. One reason is drug testing. When I began there was no drug screening. It wasn’t a concern. We were basically a lot of highly trained kids and having a good time. Snowboarding wasn’t an Olympic event at the time. That was my unique scenario. A lot of sports don’t have drug testing and you’ll discover athletes finding benefits and how it can be part of a high-performance lifestyle.
Exactly what’s a common routine?
In the early morning, I use one teaspoon of 420 honey in my coffee at 5 a.m. I might puff an extract in a vaporizer prior to the health club. I use low dosages in the early morning. Low dosages work exceptionally well and leave you with a sense of complete satisfaction and health without entering couch-lock area.
Over the last year or 2, I’ve relocated to and extracts, rather than dry flower. Extracts are healthier and method more conducive to an active lifestyle. No remaining smell, say goodbye to $10 roaches, no rolling or no ashes. Rolling is sort of meditative but if you’re ripping through your day, you do not have 20 meditation times.
If I’m doing a long road bike flight I may take a taffy at the halfway point. You’ll get the sugar increase and a few carbs and you’re ready to manage 20 more miles. But it likewise numbs discomfort in legs from lactic acid build up and CBD reduces inflammation in muscles and joints. It works excellent throughout extensive activity. I’ll do 60 miles in four hours.
And for recovery?
To recover I have a power shake as quickly as I get house: Creatine, a frozen banana, blueberries and peanut butter mixed with a half cup of hemp hearts, the fresh seed, and a protein powder from hemp because it is a superfood high in omegas and complicated carbs.
Your name has been associated with cannabis for the last 20 years. Any remorses?
Anytime anyone in the world tests favorable, I’m the man NBC talks to. When Michael Phelps got into his little cannabis circumstance, I was the one who went on NBC to discuss why athletes might select marijuana over alcohol. He acknowledged that “professional athletes from other sports” had pertained to his defense. That was me. No other professional athlete would concern his defense– why would they? What would they get from it? For me, I had currently lost everything I would have wished to safeguard and I really had to not remain in the pot closet. I had to offer indicating to what my life was after Nagano.
I utilize cannabis to enhance intimacy with others, sexual or otherwise. Do you?
I have sex 5 days a week with my partner. It’s the most amazing thing. It’s more than a hard on, and I think intimacy is part of it. If you can get into that intimate mood, you’ll be most likely to make love in the very first location.
It’s the same with your animals. Dogs, felines, horses and your kids, for that matter. Cannabis provides you an intimate connection to the world around you, music, food, whatever. It provides itself to wellness and feeling excellent.
So is it reasonable to state that cannabis ruined your life but saved it, too?
I got in snowboarding when it was at its infancy, prior to we were enabled to ride the chair raises in Canada. Snowboarding was too much fun, too simple not to go huge. I see the exact same situation today with marijuana, though with a lot more loan behind it. We’re not visiting another market like this come our method for a very long time.
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ansyr1 · 6 years
Text
The U.S. women’s hockey team hasn’t won gold since 1998; will the spell be broken in Pyeongchang?
ESPN.com
Jonathan Nackstrand/AFP/Getty Images
The USWNT last won gold 20 years ago in Nagano. Since, they’ve won silver three times (2002, 2010, 2014) and bronze once (2006).
Passion forming with every tighten of the lace
Years of the same routine perfected today
Rituals that are practiced and shared behind locker room doors.
— Kacey Bellamy
It could have been a disaster.
Hurricane Irma was on a path toward the Tampa, Florida, area on Sept. 9, and authorities were bracing for a direct hit. As it happened, the best women’s hockey players in the United States had just begun training in Wesley Chapel, a few miles north of Tampa International Airport.
Even though the NHL’s Tampa Bay Lightning had decided to evacuate its players, Team USA decided to shelter in place at the Saddlebrook Resort, where they were staying. One agent who was worried about his clients told USA Today, "Why isn’t the women’s team evacuated? Is it because they are just girls … to me this is stupid, they are our Olympic team."
But Reagan Carey, the general manager for the team, had thought it through, even going so far as to find out the number and the strength of the steel trusses in the shelter area at the Saddlebrook Resort. So on Sunday morning, Sept. 10, the team members abandoned their apartments for the shelter, joining other evacuees to wait out the storm, which lost steam from its original designation as a Category 4. Still, 80 mph winds howled outside the building as Irma passed over. The women played cards, visited with Hilary Knight’s bulldog puppy, Winston, in a separate pet area, and made hockey fans out of their fellow refugees. Captain Meghan Duggan later called it "a big sleepover," and by the next morning, they were able to return to their quarters and their lives.
"We were kind of scared," said Kacey Bellamy, the veteran defenseman and one of six players who are in Pyeongchang for their third straight Olympics. "But the negative turned into a positive. It was a great bonding experience for us, the kind of thing that brings a team closer together. Plus, I learned how to play [the card game] euchre."
By Tuesday, they were back to practicing and helping out in the community. Irma faded into a metaphor for a team that has had to weather a lot of storms over the years.
There was the crushing loss to Canada in the gold-medal game in Vancouver eight years ago. And the devastating 3-2 overtime loss in Sochi in 2014 that gave Canada its fourth straight gold medal. And the battle with USA Hockey last spring, when the women threatened to boycott the 2017 IIHF world championships if they weren’t given living expenses, travel accommodations and medal bonuses befitting representatives of the United States of America.
Not only did they win that battle, but they also went to Plymouth, Michigan, for the world championships and beat Canada 3-2 in overtime in the final — earning the team’s fourth consecutive title. "We’ve been through a lot together," said Bellamy, now an assistant captain on the team. "I think that’s made us stronger."
Resilience is part and parcel of hockey, but for female players — who often start out playing with the boys, who give up the comfort of home, who fight off waves of challengers and adjust to a succession of coaches all to pursue their Olympic dreams — well, you just bounce off the boards.
You might even write a poem about the sport you love.
AP Photo/Julio Cortez, File
World champ and Olympian Kacey Bellamy (22) watched the gold medal slip away from her team to archrival Canada in two consecutive Winter Olympics. She’s looking for gold in Pyeongchang.
Actions that are defined as the norm within the team
Replaying the past of one game, one play, one second
That has triggered one year of training against that one team.
It was a disaster.
What happened in Sochi’s Bolshoy Ice Dome on March 6, 2014, is excruciating to watch, even four years later. Team USA had a 2-0 lead on Team Canada late in the third period of the gold-medal game. But with 3:26 left in the game, Canada’s Brianne Jenner fired a shot that would’ve gone wide had it not ricocheted off Bellamy’s right leg and past goalie Jessie Vetter. Coach Katey Stone clapped her hands and told the team not to panic, that they were OK.
As time wound down, Canada pulled goalie Shannon Szabados, and Team USA’s Kelli Stack got off a clearing shot that headed for the empty net … and bounced off the left side of the left post. "When those things start to happen in the game of hockey," Stone later said, "you start to wonder if it is your night."
It wasn’t. Just 55 seconds away from finally beating Canada for the gold, Marie-Philip Poulin tied the score at 2-2 to send the game into overtime. Team USA had its chances in OT — the left-handed Bellamy almost ripped one past Szabados — but then the refs made some questionable calls, leaving the U.S. short-handed at just the wrong time. At 8:10 of overtime, Poulin fired the game winner past Vetter.
Imagine what it was like watching the Canadians celebrate and then waiting around to accept your silver medals.
"All that work, all that hope," said Bellamy. "Gone just like that. It took me five months to get over it. March, April, May, June, July. I’m big on watching videos of games, but I didn’t look at that one until August. I needed to get my motivation back."
Part of that motivation has to do with the team that beat the Americans, the team that always seems to beat them. USA vs. Canada in women’s hockey is one of the greatest rivalries in all of sports. It started way back in 1916 and captivated the world when women’s hockey debuted as an Olympic sport at Nagano in 1998. The U.S. won that gold-medal game, but the Canadians have won every Olympics since.
The rivalry is so intense that 10 fighting majors were handed out in one 2013 game, resulting in six U.S. players and five Canadians crammed into the penalty boxes. But they are also friends who share a love of the sport and often play on the same collegiate and pro teams. Caroline Ouellette and Julie Chu, one-time captains of Teams Canada and USA, respectively, first met at the Salt Lake City Games in 2002 and are now coaching at Concordia University in Montreal together while raising Liv Chu-Ouellette, born to Caroline last November.
Tale of the Tape: The U.S. vs. Canada in women’s hockey
Both shielded by different armor
Separated by a simple borderline
Sharing the same frenzy for the sport and rivalry
Colors, countries, teammates
All united on the same ice
Bellamy, a women’s studies major at the University of New Hampshire, likes to write poetry in her spare time. "They’re mostly about nature and people," she said. "But I did write this one about hockey." In fact, USA Hockey used the poem for a video to promote the "Bring On The World" tour before the last Olympics.
That’s Bellamy’s voice narrating her words in the video, an ode to the challenges of the sport in general, and the rivalry in particular. There is a depth of feeling to the poem that explains why and how Bellamy and the other five three-timers have stayed at the top of the American team for so long, through three different coaches (Mark Johnson, Stone, Robb Stauber) and all the ups and downs.
"Eight years ago, I was just a rookie with my eyes wide open, in awe of where I was, who I was playing with," said Bellamy. "Now I’m 31 and still in awe of the responsibility. The Olympics is about more than the rivalry with Canada. It’s about representing the country. It’s about showing people how beautiful women’s hockey can be. It’s about the little girls with sticks, the little girls we used to be."
Two years ago, Bellamy wrote a powerful "Letter to My Younger Self" for The Players Tribune. Addressed to 15-year-old Kacey, she recalled leaving behind her family and friends in Westfield, Massachusetts, to attend the Berkshire School and how the first two weeks "are going to be the worst two weeks of your life." She told her about the friends and coaches who changed her life, about getting her heart broken when she was cut from USA Hockey’s under-22 team, about using the rejection as motivation to make the senior national team.
"You’re going to play for the U.S. team for a long time," she wrote. "But never take anything for granted. Make the most of the opportunities you have."
Each playing for the crest on the front of the jersey
And sticking up for every name on the back
Relax. Just like in Tampa, it might not be the disaster they’re predicting.
Some people who care deeply about Team USA worry that Pyeongchang will be as much a disappointment as Sochi or Vancouver or Turin or Salt Lake City were. They wonder why Stauber, a former NHL goalie who assisted Stone in Sochi, didn’t name any female assistants to his staff. And while he did coach the team to the world championship last April, and beat Canada 5-1 to win the Four Nations Cup on Nov. 12, Team USA has lost the past four games to Canada in its pre-Olympic warm-up.
A 2-1 overtime loss to Canada at the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul, Minnesota, on Dec. 3 was particularly painful because the tying goal was scored by Poulin and the winning goal by Jenner, their Sochi nemeses. And it happened in front of members of the 1998 USA Olympic team, who were honored between periods for the United States’ only gold medal.
Afterward, Stauber said, "For us, it’s not necessarily about the 20 years, but more about, ‘It’s time.’ We’ve got to bring home a gold medal. We’ve got a pretty good vision. We’re sticking with it, and we like our direction."
That direction included the addition of three players since Irma: defenders Cayla Barnes and Sidney Morin and forward Haley Skarupa. When the final roster was named after the second period of the Winter Classic at Citi Field on Jan. 1, veterans Bellamy, Duggan, Knight, Monique Lamoureux-Morando, Jocelyne Lamoureux-Davidson and Gigi Marvin were on it, but forward Alex Carpenter, Team USA’s leading scorer in Sochi, and defender Megan Bozek were not — leading some to speculate that they did not buy into Stauber’s system.
Stauber stresses a controlled possession game that sometimes takes the puck back into the neutral zone. As for the lack of a female coach, he does rely on his veterans to help the younger players. Bellamy has been working with the 18-year-old Barnes, who had been getting ready to play for Boston College when she was asked to report to Wesley Chapel. "She’s wise beyond her years," says Bellamy. "Very poised … she’s just wonderful to have around the locker room."
While the recent results against Canada have been disappointing, it’s worth keeping in mind that in the American men’s last exhibition game with the Soviet Union before the 1980 "Miracle on Ice" game, Team USA was crushed 10-3.
In Pyeongchang, both archrivals beat Finland and the Russians in the first two games of Group A play — though there was some hand-wringing as the U.S. got off to slow starts in the first period of both games. It was Bellamy who broke the ice at 8:02 of the first period of the victory over the Russians, stepping into the attack off a pass from Jocelyne Lamoureux-Davidson and firing a seeing-eye shot past Russian goalie Valeria Tarakanova. Team USA then put the game away in the second period, thanks to a more aggressive mindset and two goals by Lamoureux-Davidson within six seconds — an Olympic record.
By winning those first two prelims, Canada and Team USA assured themselves of a place in the semifinals, meaning that their game tomorrow means nothing… and their next one everything.
"We’re starting with a clean slate in South Korea," says Bellamy. "This time will be different."
Or, as she once wrote:
Mistakes lead to success
Errors lead to victory
Pride leads to gold
Senior writer for ESPN.com and ESPN The Magazine Around long enough to have written about athletes from Hank Aaron to Ben Zobrist and Super Bowls from VII to XLVI. Joined ESPN The Magazine as a founding editor in 1998. Also wrote for Time, Sports Illustrated, the Fort Lauderdale News and The Evening Sun in Norwich, NY.
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the-end-of-art · 7 years
Text
You represent everything I despise
From The Price of Eggs in China by Don Lee
   Caroline fled to California, eventually landing in the little nondescript town of Rosarita Bay. She completely disengaged herself from the poetry world. She was still writing every day, excruciating as it was for her, but she had not attempted to publish anything in six years. She was thirty-seven now, and a waitress—the breakfast shift at a diner, the dinner shift at a barbecue joint. Her feet had grown a full size from standing so much, and she was broke. But she had started to feel like her old self again, healthier, more relaxed, sleeping better. Dean had a lot to do with it, she said. She was happy—or as happy as it was possible for a poet to be. Until now. Until Marcella Ahn suddenly arrived.    “She’s come to torment me,” Caroline said. “Why else would she move to Rosarita Bay?”    “It’s not such a bad place to live.”    “Oh, please.”    “A coincidence,” Dean said. “How could she have even known you were here? You said you’re not in touch with any of those people anymore.”    “She probably hired a detective.”    “Come on.”    “You don’t understand. I suppose you think if anyone’s looking for revenge, it’d be me, that I can’t be a threat to her because I’m such a failure.”    “I wish you’d stop putting yourself down all the time. You’re not a failure.”    “Yes I am. You’re just too polite to say so. You’re so fucking Japanese.”    Early on, she had given him her book to read, and he had told her he liked it. But she had pressed him with questions, and finally he’d had to confide that he had not really understood the poems. He was not an educated man, he had said. He only read detective stories; the only movies he liked were whodunits.    “You pass yourself off as this simple chairmaker,” Caroline said. “You were practically monosyllabic when we began seeing each other. But I know you’re not the gallunk you make yourself out to be.” “I think you’re talented.    I think you’re very talented.” How could he explain it to her? Something had happened as he’d read her book. The poems, confusing as they were, had made his skin prickle, his throat thicken, random images and words—kiwi, quiver, belly, maw—wiggling into his head and taking residence.    “Are you attracted to her?” Caroline asked.    “What?”    “You’re not going to make the chair for her, are you?”    “I have to.”    “You don’t have a contract.”    “No, but—”    “You still think it’s all a coincidence.”    “She ordered the chair sixteen months before I met you.”    “You see how devious she is?”    Dean couldn’t help himself. He laughed.    “She has some sick bond to me,” Caroline said. “In all this time, she hasn’t published another book, either. She needs me. She needs my misery. You think I’m being hysterical, but you wait.” It began with candy and flowers, left anonymously outside the hardware store, on the stairs that led up to Caroline’s apartment. Dean had not sent them.    “It’s her,” Caroline said.    The gifts continued, every week or so, then every few days. Chocolates, carnations, stuffed animals, scarves, hairbrushes, barrettes, lingerie. Caroline, increasingly anxious, moved in with Dean and quickly came down with a horrendous cold.    Hourly he would check on her, administering juice, echinacea or antihistamines, then go back to the refuge of his workshop. It was where he was most comfortable—alone with his tools and wood, making chairs that would last hundreds of years. He made only armchairs now, one chair, over and over, the Kaneshiro Chair. Each one was fashioned out of a single board of keyaki, Japanese zelkova, and was completely handmade. From the logging to the tuna oil finish, the wood never touched a power tool. All of Dean’s saws and chisels and planes were hand-forged in Japan, and he shunned vises and clamps of any kind, sometimes holding pieces between his feet to work on them. On first sight, the chair’s design wasn’t that special—blocky right angles, thick Mission Style slats; its beauty lay in the craftsmanship. Dean used no nails or screws, no dowels or even glue. Everything was put together by joints, forty-four delicate, intricate joints, modeled after a traditional method of Japanese joinery, dating from the seventeenth century, called sashimono. Once coupled, the joints were tenaciously, permanently locked. They would never budge; they would never so much as squeak.    What’s more, every surface was finished with a hand plane. Dean would not deign to have sandpaper in his shop. He had apprenticed for four years with a master carpenter in the city of Matsumoto, in Nagano Prefecture, spending the first six months just learning how to sharpen his tools. When he returned to California, he could pull a block plane over a board and produce a continuous twelve-foot-long shaving, without a single skip or dig, that was less than a tenth of a millimeter thick—so thin you could read a newspaper through it.    Dean aimed for perfection with each chair. With the first kerf of his dozuki saw, with the initial chip of a chisel, he was committed to the truth of the cut. Tradition dictated that any errors could not be repaired and had to stay on the piece to remind the woodworker of his humble nature. More and more, Dean liked to challenge himself. He no longer used a level, square, or marking gauge, relying only on his eye, and soon he planned to dispense with rulers altogether, maybe even pencils and chalk. He wanted to get to the point where he could make a Kaneshiro Chair blindfolded.    But he had a problem. Japanese zelkova, the one- to two-thousand-year-old variety he needed, was rare and very expensive—amounting to over one hundred and fifty dollars a pound. There were only three traditional woodcutters left in Japan, and Dean’s sawyer, Hayashi Kota, was sixty-nine. So much of the work was in reading the trees and determining where to begin sawing to reveal the best figuring and grain—like cutting diamonds. Hayashisan’s intuition was irreplaceable. Afraid the sawyer might die soon, Dean had begun stockpiling wood five years before. In his lumber shed, which was climate-controlled to keep the wood at a steady thirty-seven-percent humidity, was about two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of zelkova. Hayashi-san cut the logs through and through and air-dried them in Japan for a year, and after two weeks of kiln heat, the boards were shipped to Dean, who stacked them on end in boule order. When he went into the shed to select a new board, he was always overcome by the beauty of the wood, the smell of it. He’d run his hand over the boards—hardly a check or crack on them—and want to weep.    Given the expense of the wood and the precision his chairs required, anyone seeing Dean in his shop would have been shocked by the rapidity with which he worked. He never hesitated. He attacked the wood, chips flying, shavings whirling into the air, sawdust piling at his feet. He could sustain this ferocity for hours, never letting his concentration flag. No wonder, then, that it took him a few moments to hear the knocking on the door late that afternoon. It took him even longer to comprehend why anyone would be disturbing him in his workshop, his sanctum sanctorum.    Caroline swung open the door and stepped inside, looking none too happy. “You have a visitor,” she said.    Marcella Ahn sidled past her. “Hello!”    Dean almost dropped his ryoba saw.    “Is that my chair?” she asked, pointing to the stack of two-by-twos on his bench. “I know, I know, you told me not to come, but I had to. You won’t hold it against me, will you?”    Without warning, Caroline let out a violent sneeze, her hair whiplashing forward.    “Bless you,” Dean and Marcella said at the same time.    Caroline snorted up a long string of snot, glaring at Oriental Hair Poet Number Two. They were a study in contrasts, Marcella once again decked out as an Edwardian whore: a corset and bodice, miniskirt and high heels, full makeup, hair glistening. Caroline was wearing her usual threadbare cardigan and flannel shirt, pajama bottoms, and flip-flops. She hadn’t bathed in two days, sick in bed the entire time.    “When you get over this cold,” Marcella said to her, “we’ll have to get together and catch up. I just can’t get over seeing you here.”    “It is incredible, isn’t it?” Caroline said. “It must defy all the laws of probability.” She walked to the wall and lifted a mortise chisel from the rack. “The chances of your moving here, when you could live anywhere in the world, it’s probably more likely for me to shit an egg for breakfast. Why did you move here?”    “Pure chance,” Marcella told her cheerily. “I happened to stop for coffee on my way to Aptos, and I saw one of those real estate circulars for this house. It looked like an unbelievable bargain. Beautiful woodwork. I thought, what the hell, I might as well see it while I’m here. I was tired of living in cities.”    “What have you been doing since you got to town? Going shopping? Buying lots of gifts?”    Dean watched her slapping the face of the chisel blade against her palm. He wished she would put it down. It was very sharp.    Marcella appeared confused. “Gifts? No. Well, unless you count Mr. Kaneshiro’s chair as a gift. To myself. You don’t have a finished one here? I’ve actually never seen one except in the Museum of Modern Art.”    “Sorry,” he told her, nervous now, hoping it would slip by Caroline.    But it did not. “The Museum of Modern Art?” she asked. “In New York?”    Marcella nodded. She absently flicked her hair back with her hand, and one of her bracelets flew off her wrist, pinging against the window and landing on some wood chips.    Caroline speared it up with the chisel and dangled it in front of Marcella, who slid it off somewhat apprehensively. Caroline turned to Dean. “Your chairs are in the Museum of Modern Art in New York?”    He shrugged. “Just one.”    “You didn’t know?” Marcella asked Caroline, plainly pleased she didn’t. “Your boyfriend’s quite famous.”    “How famous?”    “I would like to get back to work now,” Dean said.    “He’s in Cooper-Hewitt’s permanent collection, the MFA in Boston, the American Craft Museum.”    “I need to work, please.”    “Don’t you have a piece in the White House?”    “Time is late, please.”    “Can I ask you some questions about your process?”    “No.” He grabbed the chisel out of Caroline’s hand before she could react and ushered Marcella Ahn out the door. “Okay, thank you. Goodbye.”    “Caroline, when do you want to get together? Maybe for tea?”    “She’ll call you,” Dean said, blocking her way back inside.    “You’ll give her my number?”    “Yes, yes, thank you,” he said and shut the door.    Caroline was sitting on his planing bench, looking gaunt and exhausted. Through the window behind her, Dean saw it was nearing dusk, the wind calming down, the trees quieting. Marcella Ahn was out of view, but he could hear her starting her car, then driving away. He sat down next to Caroline and rubbed her back. “You should go back to bed. Are you hungry? I could make you something.”    “Is there anything else about you I should know? Maybe you’ve taught at Yale or been on the Pulitzer committee? Maybe you’ve won a few genius grants?”    He wagged his head. “Just one.”    “What?”    He told her everything. Earlier in his career, he had done mostly conceptual woodwork, more sculpture than furniture. His father was indeed a fifth generation Japanese carpenter, as he’d told her, but Dean had broken with tradition, leaving his family’s cabinetmaking business in San Luis Obispo to study studio furniture at the Rhode Island School of Design. After graduating, he had moved to New York, where he was quickly declared a phenomenon, a development that baffled him. People talked about his work using terms like “verticality” and “negation of ego” and “primal tension”; they might as well have been speaking Farsi. He rode it for all it was worth, selling pieces at a record clip. But eventually, he became bored. He didn’t experience any of the fractious, internecine rivalries that Caroline had, nor was he too bothered by the monumental egos, pretension, and fatuity that abounded in the art world. He didn’t see these art people. He didn’t go to parties, and he avoided openings. He just didn’t believe in what he was doing anymore, particularly after his father died of a sudden stroke. Dean wanted to return to the pure craftsmanship and functionality of woodworking, building something people could actually use. So he dropped everything to apprentice in Japan. Afterwards, he distilled all his knowledge into the Kaneshiro Chair, which was considered as significant a landmark as Frank Lloyd Wright’s Willits Chair. Ironically, his work was celebrated anew. He received a five-year genius grant that paid him an annual fifty thousand dollars, all of which he had put into hoarding the zelkova in his shed.    “How much do you get a chair?” Caroline asked.    “Ten thousand.”    “God, you’re only thirty-eight.”    “It’s an inflated market.”    “And you never thought to tell me any of this in the eight months we’ve been going out? I thought you were barely getting by. You live in this crappy little house with cheap furniture, your pickup is ten years old, you never take vacations. I thought it was because you weren’t very savvy about your business, making one chair at a time, no advertising or catalog or anything, no store lines. I thought you were as anti-intellectual as they came. I thought you were clueless.”    “It’s not important.”    “Not important? Are you insane? Not important? It changes everything.”    “Why?”    “You know why, or you wouldn’t have kept this secret from me.”    “It was an accident. I didn’t set out to be famous. It just happened. I’m ashamed of it.”    “You should be. You’re either pathologically modest, or you were afraid I’d be repelled by how successful you are, compared to me. But you should have told me.”    “I just make chairs now,” Dean said. “I’m just like you with your poetry. I work hard like you. I don’t do it for the money or the fame or to be popular with the critics.”    “It’s just incidental that you’ve gotten all of those things without even trying.”    “Let’s go in the house. I’ll make you dinner.”    “No. I have to go home. I can’t be with you anymore.”    “Caroline, please.”    “You’re not like me at all. You’re like Marcella. Everything’s come so easily to you, and you don’t even appreciate how lucky you’ve been. You look at people like me, and you sneer. You must think I’m pathetic, you must pity me. You represent everything I despise.”
(Full text: http://www.gettysburgreview.com/selections/past_selections/details.dot?inode=aeec9604-c6af-4f33-83c0-e129e729ce8a&pageTitle=Don%20Lee&author=Don%20Lee&story=true)
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judgeredward · 7 years
Text
Afterglow
Resting on the outskirts of a city called Daxten was this small, oddly charming bar. With its rusty-red bricks, some moss growing here and there, and a white neon sign hanging over the entrance door that simply read ‘The Edge’, it was obvious that the bar was no simple ‘nightclub’. In fact, it was a specialised cocktail bar, designed to help people through a rough day, as a place for them to escape to. On that night, one such person was approaching the bar. The first thing they did was park up in one of the ten car spaces set in the front. Not many, most certainly, but another design choice by the current owner. Then, as the person came out and lock their car, they saw the vast and beautiful landscape of the Daxten night, with the many lights shining the city in a wonderful glow. The bar was set on a small cliff, and the road nearby continued upward to the west, which meant that the bar was, for some, a stopping point before they went deeper into the countryside. As the person in question came closer to the bar entrance, they saw a large but offset addition to the building, with a metal sheet covering the front. It was a garage, and if they were luckier, that person would have seen the owner’s sleek-black Lexus. The tarmac of the car park was a little broken up and scattered about was a couple of puddles here and there, glistening with the light of the neon.
As the first customer walked through the entrance door, with the wooden panel heavily swinging back, it was caught by a large, strong-looking hand. It belonged to one ‘Damien Rosetti’, a male with messy long brown hair, pale-grey eyes and dressed in purple and black. Around his throat hung two necklaces, with the first being almost like a choker, while the second had a golden circular key hanging on the metal chain. His left wrist also had a number of bracelets, ranging from simple rope to fine silver chains. He was somewhat tall, but the muscular structure of his torso showed he had a lot of strength.
The male pushed the door forward, dropping an almost-finished cigarette to the floor, where it was crushed by the heel of his black leather shoes. With a small sigh, Damien walked inside, stepped down a couple of steps then turned to the right. There was a black and white framed photo of a sitting woman hanging on the wall as he turned. The woman was looking off to the side, with one hand supporting her head and her elbow resting on her knee. Underneath was a golden plaque that read: ‘Amalia, 2014’. Nobody knew who the woman was, but the owner always had a small smile on his face whenever someone questioned him about it.
Damien reached upward to the ceiling as he descended a few more steps, stretching and giving a light yawn. He had now walked into the main section of the bar, and while it was simply one single room, it was quite spacious. Along the right-hand wall was the bar, stretching down for about ten or so metres, with a polished maple surface. For every two metres there was a small circular indent, where a bowl of salted nuts sat neatly inside. Then, in front of the counter, ten barstools were situated, all flush with stainless steel, velvet seating and a slightly raised back, giving each patron a considerable amount of comfort. On the other side of the room were three tables, each round and had four chairs surrounding them. All were leather seats, but each set had a different colour: white, black or red. Apparently those three colours were the owner’s favourite. Purity, trust, and passion. At least, that was how the owner had put it. Damien didn’t really get the ‘trust’ part, but he had agreed all the same when he had asked about it.
He looked towards the bar itself, noting that there were two customers there already. The first was a male, just sitting down and adjusting his tie a little looser. That would explain the bartender, who also happened to be the owner, walking down the aisle of the bar towards the coat rack on the far end, as he was holding a grey blazer. An office worker, Damien had figured, who decided to come for a quick drink before heading home. He didn’t recognise the man, but he did know who the other patron was. It was a redhead, with long flowing hair and a knitted cream hat resting on top. This was Aika Nagano. She was shorter than Damien, and thinner, but certainly quite the beauty, with full red lips and big, hazel eyes. She had her eyes cast down at a drink in her hands, but from the angle, Damien could not see what it was.
Aika looked up when she heard approaching footsteps, and gave a light smile to Damien. She always did enjoy his company, even if sometimes he was a little goofy. But it was with Damien, the owner, and one other male that she got along with well. These three she considered the closest to her, and perhaps the only friends she had.
Her eyes flitted back and forth between the owner and Damien as the latter addressed the former, offering a hello and pleasant greetings. She zoned out from their conversation and instead stared at the many bottles of liqueur: whiskeys, vodkas, tequilas, gins, and rum. While she had no opposition to drinking alcohol, if given the choice she preferred a non-alcoholic cocktail. In fact, she was quite fond of having a Magic Island from the skilled hands of the owner. Grapefruit and pineapple juice, coconut cream, grenadine syrup and whipped cream blended together with ice. The cream and grapefruit around thirty millilitres, and the pineapple triple that, and a dash of grenadine. She had watched the owner make it so many times that she knew the recipe off by heart, but she still left it to the owner to make it for her. He just seemed to have a natural talent to mix drinks.
Her eyes wandered past the owner and looked towards the mirror that was set in the middle of the back wall. She could see the hanging pictures on the opposite side of the room being reflected in the mirror, with many of them being old-time jazz musicians that she could recognise. However, here and there were a couple that was in colour, and in one she could see herself. It was a photo that had been taken a few months ago, not long after she began frequenting the Edge, one that included herself, Damien, another man wearing thinly-framed glasses, and the owner, leaning against the counter with his arms folded over his chest.
She adjusted her seat a bit, feet pressing into the metal bar at the bottom to push herself into the air. A quick tug of her crimson top to free itself from underneath her backside and she was comfortable once more. Her elbow sunk down onto the counter, hand propping up her chin, and there was a small, almost absent-minded grin on her lips as she watched the owner go to work. It would seem Damien had ordered himself an Alabama Slammer. Vodka, Southern Comfort, Amaretto and Sloe gin, each of equal part fifteen millimetres, then fill the rest with orange juice. Aika tried it once and thought it tasted awful, but for some reason Damien couldn’t get enough of the drink. It was like fruit punch, except not as tasty.
The redhead looked back down to the half-finished Magic Island, delicate hands curling around the champagne glass and giving the liquid inside a small swirl. A sigh followed, then with a gulp Aika finished the rest of the cocktail and placed the glass back down on the counter. She gave the owner, with his short, brilliant-white hair, dazzling blue eyes and a handsome smirk, a small nod before she stood up. She made another adjustment to her clothing, straightening out the denim pair of jeans, then began walking towards the bathroom. As she turned the corner to head into the hallway of the bathrooms, she almost slammed headfirst into the chest of a tall, lanky and bespectacled man. This was her other friend, William Drake. There was a quick muttering of an apology from Aika, before she had dashed off into the bathrooms past William.
William shifted the navy tie around his neck and straightened out the jacket he wore, his left brow raised from Aika’s actions, as if amused by her bashfulness. They were friends, after all, at the very least she could act a little more natural around him. Then again, perhaps that was her usual self and he was expecting too much from her. He walked up to the bar, clapping the large back of Damien as he did so, then nodded at the owner. The owner gave a small, curious look back at William, but soon shrugged and looked towards the piano behind William. William turned back to follow the owner’s gaze, and let out a long, relieved sigh upon seeing the grand black piano that seemed to blend into the background of the dark brick wall. Next to it was a set of live drums, and in front of both of those was a microphone.
William, Aika and Damien were a jazz-band trio, having formed almost a year prior to that very evening, and it was through their mutual love and respect for the music genre that they had remained close friends. The owner, having seen them perform one night, asked them after their show if they wanted to start frequenting the Edge bar and practice their music at the place. While they had been a little reluctant, they did not have a good place to practice, and the owner at the time seemed relatively trustworthy. They came along, sussed the place out and had an actual meeting with the owner to finalise it together. Damien loved the atmosphere of the bar, Aika loved the skill of the owner’s drink skills, and William loved the seclusion the place provided. It was small, somewhat dark, but it was homely and comforting. Plus they were quite surprised to see that the owner was quite the fan of the jazz genre as well, and often helped in pitching in for new song ideas. While he was a year younger than the oldest, Aika, at twenty-five, he seemed to be far older. Wiser, in fact, than what his age told of him. The trio, known to many as ‘The Afterglow’, could not quite get a grasp of the owner, with his mysterious but oddly charming attitude.
William walked towards the black piano and let his hands glide over the lid. His palm caressed the edge, fingers curling around to meet the wooden underside. There was a distant look about him that always seemed to fester whenever he was near the piano. He looked beyond the piano then, back at the room and took in the sight. More often than not, the memory of the bar was something barely seen over the music rack, but now that he stood up and took it in, he had to admit that the bar was damned beautiful. The light from the overhead lamps, basking the liqueur bottles and the owner in a bright yellow-white glow made it almost romantic and fantastical. It was quite the sight to behold.
Damien soon joined William, taking a seat behind the drums and picked up a pair of drum sticks from the side. There were a couple of bangs against the tom-toms, making sure they were still functional, before silence. Damien was seemingly satisfied with the sound, and then leaned back, waiting on the redhead to hurry into to the bar.
Aika soon returned, coming out of the bathroom and, upon seeing the other two take their places behind their respective instruments, gave a happy, small sigh and stood behind the microphone. There was a small pause, and then the music began to play. The sound of the piano glided beautifully in the air, soon backed up by the sound of the bass drum. Then, slowly, Aika opened her mouth, and sung, creating a beautiful melody of sound that closed the night out for the curious bartender and owner.
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nel-4 · 7 years
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The last blog of the trip: it's a long one I'm afraid (don't feel obliged to read it)... It's Nagano with snow monkeys, deep fried locusts, fish saké, "karaoke" and a stop at the lake to clear our heads; Tokyo with the Shibuya crossing, cherry blossom trees galore, the Kamen Joshi girl group and Asimo the Honda Robot; and Hong Kong with accommodation in little India, Sofar Sounds, a rooftop pool, the peak, soho with escalators and an anticlimactic symphony of lights show.
We went to Nagano after Kanazawa/Shirakawa-go. Our main purpose here was to fulfil Zee's dream of seeing the legendary snow monkeys that bathe in the hot spring saunas up in the mountains. His wish came true! We did a day trip to the snow monkey park and mingled with them for the afternoon as they bathed and huddled together to keep warm. There were lots of baby monkeys too and we witnessed a few adults thieving from visiting customers. Back in Nagano town we thought it about time for another night out as Zee, the machine, wanted to get "aaat on the laaash"...it started orderly but ended with Zee pushing me over on the pavement (accidentally), resulting in a hole in my trouser knee, us all raiding the 24hr family mart for snacks at 3am and then Zee vomiting on return to the hostel whilst laura and I broke the 'lights out in communal areas after 11' rule. Zee had made it his mission to not be outdrunk by me - he matched me consumption wise but not in handling terms, ha! The evening was a cracker though - we went to a great restaurant where we had deep fried locusts as a side dish and a bowl of Saké that is brewed for a while with a fish soaking in it. We devoured the saké and the fish! Then went in search for a Karaoke bar, only to find it was way too expensive, but luckily found a lounge bar that had the instruments of a band all set up but no band. Well, nedless to say we belted out a few numbers - Taylor Swift, The Beatles and Oasis made appearances, and the only two other people in the bar were obliged to politely clap at the end of our set. Not done yet, we headed to a sports bar and muscled in on some locals' night's out, joining them for matches of table tennis and pool before playing clocks on the dart board. So so tired by home time which I expect contributed to the falling down and ripped knee! (I'm so so sorry Mrs Ralph 😜 - soon you won't have to read of my drinking habits)! Hangovers ever present, the next day we took the train up to stay at a lake side lodge hostel called LAMP hostel. It was a great place with comfy beds, log cabin stylings and an onsen style bath which I unfortunately only had a few private minutes in, before 2 slight Japanese ladies arrived, stripped off and got in together (I vacated the bath on their arrival in the changing area as didn't think they'd appreciate a large, bobbing (you float in them) westerner disturbing their chill time). Anyway, we took naps, went for walks in the snow around the lake and ate many a carbohydrate to recover from the night before. It worked well and by the next day we felt ready to take on Tokyo city after our few days in the snowy countryside. Laura's brother and sister in law (Shaun and Becky) were on holiday in Japan and we'd managed to coincide our Tokyo time. We met them for dinner on the first night there and spent the next couple days together. We visited the scramble Shibuya crossing where the volume of people crossing reaches thousands sometimes. Was 'quiet' when we went unfortunately but still had a go at taking some arty slow shutter speed shots like Jack had taught me in HoiAn 🙂. We explored around here some, and tried to plough our way through the hoards of people on Takeashita (lol) street to get to our sushi restaurant we fancied. This was really fun - you ordered on a personal tablet in front of you, then a siren would go off to let you know that your food was about to zoom towards you on a conveyor belt and stop right in front of you. Much fun!! We ended the night at a saké market, sampling a few different ones and made friends with some young people from TaiWan called SunnySu, Celine, Pierre and Paul (see selfie of us all on Facebook)!! Next day was spent in Ueno park under the cherry blossom. There's soooo many blossom trees all over, it looks great! I'd been to Ueno park under two weeks before and it wasn't out very much then but it was now near full bloom 😀. We then went round the Ginza area which was full of pretty posh designer shops so couldn't really purchase anything but we had a nice wander around and a last meal with Shaun and Becky with a few beers to follow. Penultimate Tokyo/Japan day was spent at the Senso-ji temple and doing some souvenir shopping in the Asakusa and Kapabashi areas. One of our favourite nights was then upon us...we'd seen Joanna Lumley (in Japan) go to watch an all girl singing dancing troop where all the audience members (99% male) know all the dance moves and get obsessed with all the girls - we had to see it for ourselves and it definitely didn't disappoint! They are a 30ish strong group called Kamen Joshi and perform twice every night (5 and 8pm). The ticket's a bargain at £12 which gets you entry and two drinks or some tucker! They perform in smaller groups and all the men are so so involved in chanting and doing dance routines to the songs. The girls have different coloured outfits on and the men race forward waving their affiliated coloured glow stick each time their favourite girl took a solo. Afterwards, you can meet and greet all the girls (they all look very young (15-20) and the men's average age was probably 45) - it was fascinating to see the men being so shy then talking to the girls after being so confident on the dance floor. However, the overriding feeling was creepiness, and the men would pay for photos with them or pay for the girls to pose together for photos! Whacky Japan! Final day in Japan was a late start followed by a trip to the national museum of emerging science and innovation, called Miraikan. Had a cool trip down to it on the hybrid train over the docks and estuary - real flashy buildings around here. When there we saw a demonstration by the Honda Robot, Asimo, who ran out of his home giving us a wave. He did some hopping, backwards walking and sang a song whilst doing Japanese sign language along to it! He was so cool, glad we saw him. We also had a go on some Honda "uni cab" prototypes and went on a tour around he museum on them - they're like a sit down Segway that you control with your weight distribution sitting down. The lady was quite strict with us though as I think she could tell all we wanted to do was zoom around on them rather than listen to her tour. She didn't let us go very fast 🙁. Headed back to central Tokyo after and had a great last meal of tender raw steak that you cook on a little grill box on your table yourself - I made the mistake of using my metal chopsticks to turn my meat on the grill and then to feed myself, burning my upper and lower lip on one side in the process (injury no. 547??!!) 😩 Friday was our travel day to Hong Kong with an early start, arriving in HK late afternoon. Initially impressed with the transport into the city our good moods were cut short on arrival to our hostel. The building was called ChingKung Mansions and housed loooooads of hostels on 15 floors. The whole of the ground floor was just like the markets we'd seen in India and as soon as we arrived the hassling started, offering us places to stay and things to buy. Luckily the China based Indian people were less pushy than some of the India based Indian people had been, so there was no bother, was just unexpected as one street over was all the designer shops and posh hotels whereas this building was really run down. The hostel we were staying in had messed up too and were asking us to move rooms to a different hostel after the first night - we said we would at first but then changed our minds so we stayed put. May have been a mistake as in this block only one lift was working so there was a big queue for it or it was walk 15 flights in muggy heat. Queue was so long one night we did take the stairs but to instantly regret it - on the first floor we found a rave and loads of people hotboxing in the corridor, then the staircase smelled so strongly of wee and poo it made you gag - I've never walked so quickly up 15 flights of stairs but was so worried that I'd get sick from it all again, I pelted up them!! All good though. Anyway, our first night in HK we'd booked onto the city's first Sofar Sounds gig which was really good. Last artist was the best but the other two were good too. Met a few people and got some recommendations for things to do in the city. Polished the day of with a second McDonald's in 10hours, oops! Spent Saturday at the Sheraton hotel rooftop pool and spa (bought a day pass) for a well earned rest and to enjoy the warm weather again. Had an interesting dinner at a cooky restaurant where they gave you a free half a roasted pigeon with every meal. It tastes a bit like duck! Strolled the waterfront after dinner and went for a cocktail in a skybar called 'eyebar'. Had a cocktail called 'Susie wrong' which was advertised as HK's version of the Singapore sling - wasn't quite the same I don't think!! Last day in HK was spent with Sian and Dan and their friend Jenna. Dan was working in HK for a few days and Sian had joined him for a holiday. We went up to the top of the peak (getting a really cheap taxi compared to the expensive tram that had an hour long queue) but only got an overcast view of the city as was pretty cloudy and smoggy that day. Then explored the soho area that had escalators running up and down the streets with happy hours galore at bars on every level! Headed over the water then to the Kowloon side to watch the symphony of lights show from the harbour side (all the buildings emit laser beams from their roofs and the building facades light up with loads of different patterns). Unfortunately we were expecting much more than we got. It may have been the cloudy skies that prevented the full effect from coming across but to us it didn't look that different to the lights that are always going day and night on the buildings. Nice to see though and didn't last long :) Afterwards we headed up town to a street food area where we came across a street artist performing our classic hits that we'd performed earlier in the week - we happily obliged his request to sing along to Hey Jude and Yesterday 😁. After tucker we bid farewell to Sian and Dan and headed back for our last sleep of the big fat holiday and left early in the morning with much heavier rucksacks (mine was 18.5kg, started at 14.5) for our journey home. Had two flights with Aeroflot, with a short stop at Moscow airport en route. Unfortunately it was too short of a stop for them to manage to put my back on the flight to Heathrow....my 19th flight and I lost my luggage. Best it happened on this flight though and luckily he was found the next day and is now safely returned to me. Can't believe it's all over, it went by so quickly, but it's lovely to be home. If you've read down this far, I salute you, and fanks!!
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