radiopeter

I purchased a Mac Powerbook, the tiny 12″ one. I can almost taste it. I want it here now!!! But it won’t arrive until the end of this week, or early next week.

My life is about to jump warp 10. This week will be a blur no doubt, and next week will go even faster. I’m at t-minus 2 weeks and counting until I leave for Japan and I’m sleeping so poorly because I’m excited.

I managed to get into bed around 6:30 last night and slept solidly until this morning. It was the first time in almost a week that I remember dreaming anything. I didn’t write anything down, so I don’t remember them, but I do feel well rested for a change.

Anyway, there are a handful of new links about Mac stuff. Enjoy!

That fucker the pope (lowercase p) is back in the hospital with the flu. While I don’t wish the man dead, I think this world has changed too much for him to continue pontificating.

Ain’t karma a bitch? He tells the world that gay marriage is evil and decides to compare abortion to the holocaust. Then he gets sick.

Where the hell is his commentary on his sick band of priests who prefers to touch and rape little boys?

It’s time for a new pontiff. It’s time the world received a more enlightened leader of the biggest cult (yes, I said cult) the world has ever known.

And for all of you who disagree with me, that’s fine. You’re welcome to your opinion, as I’m welcome to mine.

I’ll leave you with this final thought. It’s my own personal axiom to live by.

And it harm none, do what thou will.

Fujii Sensei and I went to an all you can eat maki restaurant in the old Technicolor Kitchen space. I think the place is called House of Sushi and Noodles.

The Miami Maki was definitely the superstar. It was huge with crab, cucumber, cream cheese and other goodies, all battered in tempura and deep fried. YUM!

Afterwards we went to Holy Name Cathedral to hear Donald give a wonderful small concert. He plays the cello for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and was joined by an incredible organist on each piece.

I didn’t particularly dislike the first modern piece very much, but it was an interesting work that let the cello and giant pipe organ dance with each other. A harpist and a soprano joined on the second sacred work. It was so incredibly beautiful I was nearly moved to tears.

They finished the program with another modern piece, this time music about the seasons. Don had managed to commission two of the missing seasons (the work was originally just two of the four) and it was a beautiful flowing piece from start to end.

Damn I love Chicago. The fact that I just happened into all that stuff is so incredible.

They showed it. They actually showed Linda Lovelace and her oral talents. I didn’t expect to see it on the movie screen, but there it was.

“Inside Deep Throat” was incredible. More of a documentary, it made several blatantly obvious points about the industrialized censorship that can be enforced on a whim by whomever chooses to rant or rave. They poke fun of this totally hideous Re(puke)publican bastard who was the prosecutor of the original trials surrounding the movie.

After the movie Ken, Damien and I met with Doug at Buca Di Beppo to stuff ourselves silly with meat, fish, and mashed potatoes. DEFINITELY GET THE MEAT PLATTER! It was brilliant.

And if that wasn’t enough, we went for sweet crepes on Broadway. Damn, I’m still full just writing about this.

Friday night was rock star at Spin. There were people on the ‘floor from 10:05 until I shut it down at 1:35. I think the holiday weekend got a lot of people in the mood to head out on the town.

The best part was after work. Mike, Nate, and I headed to San Soo Gab San (I simply cannot get enough Korean BBQ!) and ate ourselves silly. Mmmm…kimchee!

It seems that the fact that I do not own any Miles Davis albums has sent shockwaves through most, if not all, of my friends. Wait, don’t tell me, you’re shocked too?

A couple days ago, a good friend of mine at work received a copy of “Kind of Blue”. Well, turns out he already had the CD and he decided it would be better to pass it along to a friend than to return it. He asked if I’d like it and I jumped at the chance.

Last night I brewed a large pot of peppermint tea and settled down on my love seat (I have no sofa) with my cats, two size 17 plastic knitting needles, two balls of Boa eyelash yarn, and Miles Davis on the Hi-Fi. Yes, I call it the Hi-Fi.

O frabjuous day! Callou Callay! Such wonderful music!

Two pots of tea (thank god it had zero caffiene), both balls of yarn, and hundreds of stitches later, I had crafted a beautifully spider-web light fashion scarf in salt and pepper boa. The yarn is magically lightweight and feels like feathers.

I think I’m going to give it to my sensei to give to her friend who plays the trumpet. Apparently her friend admired a black one I knit for a Christmas present, so I’d like her to have something of mine as well. I’ll need to get a picture up here to show it off.

That’s the second-best part about knitting. Making a piece of art and giving it away. In some ways, the art takes on a second life away from me, so it’s almost like magick; I can send the energy off to do good things.

The best part, for me, is the process. From planning to execution to finishing, the thrill of seeing something created from a ball of yarn is ultra-satisfying.

Back to Miles Davis tho. No, except for a Blue Note compilation or two, I didn’t have any Miles Davis albums. Everyone seems to think I did. Well, I do now. And I might have to make my way out there to see if I can get more…

It happened again last night. I had a dream that was exclusively in Japanese. Not that I mind of course, but I remember very little about what was going on. There was a young woman who was quite beautiful. She spoke the syrupy sweet kawaii nihongo (cute Japanese) that a lot of girls favor. And there was a handsome man who seemed very interested in everything she had to say. That’s about all I can pull out of my head right now. Oh yes, they were using handfuls of passive forms. Perhaps as the day passes I’ll remember more.

I’ve been numbing my brain with Japanese so much lately that it’s no real suprise that my world, even my dream world, is consumed with it. Even while knitting I try and read or speak. My cats don’t speak English anymore. They respond to Japanese just fine.

Recently, perhaps the reason for the dream, I’ve been reviewing the exponentially difficult passive voice forms. Let me tell you, they are tongue twisters.

Active Voice:

叱る
shikaru
to scold

先生は私を叱った
sensei wa watashi o shikatta
The teacher scolded me.

Passive Voice:

しかられる
shikarareru
to be scolded

私は先生に叱られた
watashi wa sensei ni shikarareta
I was scolded by the teacher

Try saying shikarareru five times fast. Or shikarareta. More examples are taberareru (to have eaten), sunde irareru (to have lived somewhere), nomarareru (to have drank).

In Japanese, there is a very slight rolling of the r’s. Your tongue should flick off the upper pallette. It’s like saying “da-da” but with an r sound. Very similar to the Spanish r, but you don’t roll. A word like taberareru is pronounced tah-beh-rah-ray-roo with the abbreviated roll for each r.

Tongue twisters for sure.

I just can’t resist sharing these:

Brianna Cracker
Sharon Needles
Cymfoni Hall
Claire Voyant
Anna Falactic Shock
Della Catessen
Sanida Quitt
Mona Lott
Tess Tease
Shelita Hamm
Paige Turner
Mary Cone
Connie Sewer
Sophonda Peters
Iona Trailer
Iona Sextoy
Penny Costal
Uneeda Biskit
Ineeda Mann
Eileen Dover
Curly Frye
Keesha Myass
Anna Nora Exseea
Devoida Taste
Kaye Wye

Last night I went to a Windy City Knitting Guild meeting. It was fantastic! They hold them montly at the Sulzer Regional Library here in Chicago.

I parked my IGo rental a block away and sauntered into the library. There was no sign about where the meeting was, but after peeking around a corner or two, I saw a woman in a beautifully knit heather poncho. And then another woman with knitting needles. Then I saw bags and bags laid out for a yarn-swap and I knew I had the right place.

The atmosphere was so interesting in the conference room. There must have been at least 60 or 70 women, and I think there were four or five men. Nearly everyone was busy knitting away at some delightful project in their laps.

Pat Conaway was the featured speaker. He’s a performance artist who is best known in Chicago for knitting a pair of 6 foot long mittens with some gian knitting needles he created. All in all he was a good speaker, emphasizing the message that knitting is an artform, and every knitter is an artist.

In an interesting display, he asked everyone who knit to raise their hands. Then he asked those who were artists to keep their hands up. Most of the women dropped their hands right away.

The message hit home even further as several people knit with his larger than life needles. One by one, row by row, everyone began to work on this piece of art that was created by the community. It was both inspiring and delightful.

I didn’t use the big needles, but I did leave the meeting with my creative fires burning bright. I couln’t get much sleep because I kept turning around ideas in my head for new things to knit. I woke at 5am this morning, fully planning on getting to work early, but instead I grabbed my new pair of 35 knitting needles (19mm wide) and started experimenting with many things.

Next stop, the fabric store. I have many ideas that I need work on!

Had a rather low key weekend. Went out a little bit but stayed in for the Grammy Awards. For all of you who want the Nightspots preview, here’s my article:

I begin this week by throwing mud. If I never hear “Let’s Get It Started” again, I’ll be a happy man. But somehow I just don’t think it will happen. The painful mash-up opening at the Grammy’s was sadly unbearable. Gwen Stefani and Eve, who both looked and sounded great, were the only good parts of the opener.

Grammy officials kept stressing the quantity of live performances, but the quality wasn’t there. JLo and Marc Anthony’s Spanish-only duet didn’t work. He was divine, she was awful. The tsunami relief song was TURRIBLE. U2 was boring. And the country mixup never seemed to gel until “Sweet Home Alabama”, their final song. Where was Gretchen Wilson’s eye shadow? And why did the cameras show Ellen and Portia so much?

Now for the cheers. Melissa Ethridge and her shaved head accompanied by Joss Stone (robbed of the Best New Artist Grammy by Maroon 5) blew the roof off with Janis Joplin. Green Day, in their post Grammy glow, electrified the audience with “American Idiot”. And clad in the only good outfit for the hostess of the evening, Queen Latifah coated the audience with her luscious voice with “Lush Life” and “Baby Get Lost” in a fierce black dress. The rest of her outfits, as well as her general hosting duties, were just, eh, ok. But who needs to be great when you’re wearing that many Lorraine Schwartz diamonds?

Shining brighter than anyone else, including Kanye-I-better-win-West was Alicia Keys. Her incredible piano and vocal performances affirmed the four Grammy’s she took home. Who knew Jamie Foxx could sing in such eloquent falsetto? His performance with Miss Keys on “Georgia On My Mind” was beyond, and maestro Quincy Jones had the best outfit of the evening; an airbrushed Ray Charles tee shirt. Bonnie Raitt and Billy Preston even chimed in with their Ray Charles tribute.

I’m incredibly happy that Ray Charles, Ray Charles, Ray Charles, Ray Charles, Ray Charles, Ray Charles, Ray Charles, and Ray Charles dominated. Eight Grammy awards. He deserves every one of them and more. Norah Jones put it best; “What can I say? Ray Charles.”

One of the more entertaining performances was Usher and James Brown. They were bursting with energy during the entire performance, after which James Brown called Usher “the new godson [of soul]“. You can clearly see it, and Usher took home three Grammy’s because of it. His career is at an all time high, and I hope to see him go even further.

Where was Prince? He won and didn’t even attend. And Jacques Lu Cont won for best remixer, but they still don’t show that on television.

The Academy President Neil Portnow urged people to be responsible and purchase, instead of download, music. “We will continue to advocate for [artists] ability to earn a living and be compensated for their musical creations, which improve the quality of our lives every day.” Amen brother.

Full of Grammy glee in 4/4,
Peter Mavrik

The hardest and most fascinating thing about the Japanese language is the subtleties of meaning you can inflect on whatever you are saying. For example:

これは美味しいそです
kore wa oishii so desu
this seems delicious

Change -so to -yo and you get this:

これは美味しいよです
kore wa oishii yo desu
this is delicious and I’m telling you this because I know it to be true because I’ve tasted it

Or, by changing the -yo to -rashii you get:

これは美味しいらしいです
kore wa oishiirashi desu
I heard from someone (it may be a rumor) that this is delicious

So now, for all you people who wonder about the disconnect between subtitles and the amount of words spoken, that should help explain a very tiny part of what is happening. The Japanese often adjust everything they say with these types of patterns. It’s astounding how much a single sentence can convey. So many shades of grey.

Someday I’ll master them.

新年快樂
In Pinyin: Xīnián kuàilè
In English: “Xin Nian Kuai Ler”

No, that isn’t Japanese. It’s Chinese. Happy Chinese New Year to one and all. This is the year of the Rooster.

The sign of the Rooster indicates a person who is hard-working and definite about their decisions. Roosters are not afraid to speak their minds and can therefore sometimes come across as boastful. They make good restaurant owners and world travellers.

I’m a Fire Dragon by the true chart. Because I was born on Feb 4th, I’m at the tail end of the Dragon year. I was born in 1977, which most charts call a Snake, but I’m really a Dragon because that cycle ended on February 17th, 1977. Check here for your real animal.

What’s a Fire Dragon? Let’s see:

Fire

Dynamism, passion, energy, aggression, leadership.

Dragon

Force and power are the symbols attributed to the Dragon. There is a decidedly exotic air about Dragon people, especially among the women, who fairly exude sexuality. Indeed, whether male or female, Dragons are libidinous and score quite a hit with the opposite sex.
To the Chinese, the Dragon is born in the most desirable year, blessed by the gods and goddesses in heaven. Possessing magical powers, the versatile Dragon is capable of soaring to the highest heavenly heights or diving to the depths of the sea. On one hand shrewd, healthy and full of vitality, the Dragon also possesses a mystical side, intuitive, artistic and strangely lucky. However, Dragons can plunge pretty low, becoming irritable, stubborn and impetuous. The Dragon’s mystical allure may become a bit too other worldly, making him or her difficult to get close to. A Dragon’s unsatisfactory love life may lead to a string of loves and marriages. Believing themselves invincible, Dragons must beware of excesses, for with their uncommon strength, they can harm themselves, or “scorch their wings.”

Sounds like me. And I even like the “bessed by the gods bit”.

It’s days like my birthday that make me gloriously happy to be surrounded by great people living in a great city. True, I was a bit worried about another step closer to the Saturn return in my life.

When a person reaches 28 years old, Saturn begins to return to the same place it was when you were born. Many astrologers and believers find this to be an incredibly dynamic period of change in their life. It can be good change or bad change, but it all depends on your attitude.

However, with a year like 2004 under my belt, how much more extreme change could there be? I SERIOUSLY went through a lot of rapid-fire changes that vaulted me out into the world. And it isn’t really slowing down any time soon. So I’m nervously excited about getting closer to the return. I cannot wait for 30!!!

But time to dish on Friday.

I decided for my own mind it would be best to take a half-day off work. So precisely at 12:00 I sped out of the office to Chicago Buzz to get my hair cut. Liz, a new stylist for me, was so quirky and funny that I think I’ll switch over to her. My hair looked great walking out of the shop. Gotta love that. I then trekked out to get a massage (divine!) and ended up at home quite early to soak in a hot tub full of salty lavender water for a while.

I dozed in and out of consciousness all afternoon, just lying about with the cats while watching the original and brilliant version of “Shall We Dance?” Rent it. Not only does it blow the socks of the American one, it’s beautifully choreographed in the big dance scenes.

Lying in wait for me was a new outfit of yellow and green, colors that aren’t usually very Peter Mavrik. But these are an attempt at coloring myself up Tokyo-style. I got myself together and out of the house around 7:30ish and trekked downtown.

Due to some miscommunication and some happenstance, I ended up down there very early by myself so I took the time to walk around downtown in the cool air, feeling wonderfully content in my own skin. There were barely any people or cars around, so I zig-zagged my way around the loop at a casual pace, absorbing the city.

There’s something of a heartbeat in downtown Chicago. You can’t ever hear it over the din of the traffic, but you can feel it if you tune your other senses to it. The smells, the sights, and even the vibrations from the ground surge with the flavor of Chicago. Damn, I love this place.

I arrived at Trader Vic’s to find my sister and her friend starting in on their first beers. We made our way to the big table I had reserved and everyone soon showed up. Lots of nibbly food, lots of drink, and lots of loving conversation.

I’m blessed to have such wonderful people in my life.

After closing down Trader Vic’s we attempted to hit Raw Bar, but I could sense a lot of people were just through. So a couple of us went to San Soo Gab San for Korean, because dammit, it was my birthday!

I only hope, that as I move forward through the years, I can maintain the ties I have with my friends. Things are changing so rapidly for me, it’s nice to know the relationships I have with the people who still count remain the same.

Careless Love by Madeleine Peyroux is my new favorite CD. Ever. Of all time.

Mary J. Blige’s What’s the 411 and Erykah Badu’s Baduizm used to fight for position number one. Jill Scott even got close with Beautifully Human . Erotica by momma Madonna was even up there. But no more. Careless Love now reigns supreme.

I don’t even know how to begin to describe it. Perhaps I’m still in shock at the high quality of the recordings. It could be the uncanny memory-evoking voice of Mlle. Peyroux (that’s mademoiselle for those of you short-bus folks). Or maybe, just maybe, this is the first album that has stroked my emotional core in a very long time.

Madeleine Peyroux has an incredible vocal presence, much like that of Billie Holiday. But she’s more than Billie Holiday. Her vocal glissandos effortlessly slide through each song, coating you the way burning hot fudge smoothes over ice cold vanilla Hagen Daaz. Steamy and sweet, her style is not only subtle, it’s magically enchanting.

Imagine holding the hand of a child that is watching the splendor of their first sunset. Excitedly they grip your hand tighter and tighter as the giant ball of orange fire begins to dip beneath the horizon. And once it finally does disappear, the colorful sky radiates with a Technicolor pallet that brings an impossibly wide smile to their face.

That pure joy of living is what I felt during my first listen.

If it sounds like I’m gushing, you’re right. I am.

Just now, right this very moment, I’ve finished listening to the first track of Madeleine Peyroux’s (pronounced Peru) newest CD Careless Love.

I am on the verge of crying and laughing at the same time, in that Steel Magnolias way. Remember the scene? It’s the one where Dolly Parton says “laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.”

“Dance me to the end of love” is a good Leonard Cohen song made better by Mlle Peyroux. This is the first time I’ve ever heard her voice. And in exactly twenty minutes I’m running out to pick up her first album.

Paradise is speaking. I cannot wait to hear all it has to say.