Hello, it's been a while. in case you forgot, here's a brief recap: I'm Nate, I write a blog. Sometimes.
Now that we're all caught up...
Before you continue, I want you to know that I'm aware this is not my best post. Really, it's not that great. But I think if I'm gonna write a blog, I need to write posts, so I forced myself to write something. And this is what I got. So... continue at your own risk. And don't say I didn't warn you.
It turns out that the hardest part of writing a blog is coming up with ideas on a regular basis. When I first starting writing this blog, I thought the name was the hardest part. I even wrote a post about it. Maybe two. But I was wrong - it's understandable, I suppose, that at that point I didn't realize the ideas were really the hardest part. Especially because I was deep in the midst of that oh-so-clever idea to write about how hard it was to come up with a name for the blog. However, one short/long year later, I'm finding myself pretty much out of ideas.
Any yet, here I am anyway. Yes, it's true, I have nothing to write about. But hey, it's never stopped me before! One time, I even wrote a post about all of my previous posts. That was either really clever or really lame. Or both. Whatever.
Today, once I'm done telling you all about my lack of ideas, I'll reward those of you who make it that far with glorious tales about... well, something.
Ok, here we go.
Random topic #1: My mortal enemies. You already know about one of them - it's a type of cake made almost entirely from cheese. The other is an instrument made from a bunch of little cymbals attached to a hoop. Just to be clear - cymbals are not my mortal enemy. Nor are hoops. But put them together, and something magical happens. And I'm not talking magical like hey, I just realized I'm a wizard and I can do all kinds of cool stuff that I didn't think was possible. Nope. I'm talking magical more like I wish that person would stop making all that horrible noise with that cymbal-hoop-thing. Ok, so maybe magical isn't the right word - if I think of the right word, I'll let you know.
Are you still with me? Great!
Ok, so in case you haven't figured it out (or maybe you just don't care, which is totally understandable, or maybe you have figured it out, but I'm going to keep writing no matter what) - I'm talking about tambourines. I don't like 'em. Maybe I hate 'em. Maybe it's not so much that I actually hate tambourines - they do sometimes add a certain tambourine-y something to a song in just the right tambourine-y sort of way. It's just that I really don't like it when people play tambourines in the vicinity of my person. Mostly my ears. Especially when I'm playing guitar and singing and stuff like that. This is not just me being an unreasonable jerk (in the spirit of full disclosure, I may be an unreasonable jerk). But even so, I have some well thought out reasons regarding my distaste for tambourines:
1: A tambourine is just too damn loud.
2: Pretty much everybody thinks he/she/it can play the tambourine.
3: Most people, it turns out, can't play the tambourine. Ok, I'll amend that. Most people can, in fact, make noise with a tambourine - they just can't play it without messing up the beat. And since the primary job of most percussion instruments is to not totally mess up the beat - that's a lot like not being able to play it.
So if there's a tambourine lying around, it's only a matter of time before it's in someone's hand, tiny cymbals screaming in their hoop to a rhythm all their own.
We have a few tambourines at my house. I don't know why. But after many years of suffering, I wised up. They now reside at an undisclosed location. If I need them, I know where to find them. But if anyone else needs them, well... I think I might have a tambourine, I just don't know where it is.
Random topic #2: Rainbows.
When I was a kid, we learned the rainbow has seven colors - red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. None of us knew what indigo was, but we were kids, so we bought in. They taught us a mnemonic: Roy G. Biv. Clearly some guy's name. I think maybe his middle name is Green. It worked! To this day, I remember not just the so-called colors of the rainbow, but also the name of some guy who may not exist but if he does he probably has a pet unicorn. One day, I was talking to someone older than me, someone from a previous generation. It might have been an aunt, or an uncle, or a mom, or a kindly stranger. And this person told me that when he/she/it was a kid, things were a bit different. The "rainbow guy" was, in fact, named Vib G. Yor. What the...!? Who would name their kid Vib G. Yor? Glump J. Yor and his wife Xtarno K. Yor? This makes no sense. A mnemonic is supposed to be easy to remember. Vib G. Yor is just nonsense. Roy G. Biv is a respectable, memorable name. On the other hand, it's like forty years later and I still remember em both. So maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. But that's never stopped me before.