AYALAC's take on the Stanford Debacle

This is great - and one of the reasons why the World of Blog can be so fantastic.

The Atheist is probably no more qualified to write about cricket than I am - it's probably statistically unlikely that he could be quite as bad at the game as me, but just like me he is cursed with an obsession of the game since whenever and likes to write about it in his free time. He writes well, it's funny, and always worth a look, which is why he's on my list of followed blogs. But that's pretty much it - I wouldn't have particularly thought that he could give me any insight into the game that I couldn't have figured out on my own - until today, on account of what he does for a living. The Atheist is a Financial/Banking Type Guy, and so he has a completely unique perspective on the Stanford Debacle that we haven't seen anywhere else - all the reporting so far has been from the usual sport journos, who almost without exception are ex-players. And not one of them have been able to tell me anything that I didn't already know, on account of being qualified to talk about one subject and one subject alone - sport. All the Angus Frasers and Peter Roebucks and Jonathan Agnews can speculate endlessly about what a prawn Giles Clarke is and how stupid the ECB were in having anything to do with Stanford from the start, but the opinion I really want to hear is from someone involved in the world of finance. And there aren't too many of them writing cricket stories for the Times or the Telegraph, now are there? Now I really know just how stupid and/or corrupt the whole thing was.

Only a blog could provide me with this sort of unique standpoint. And this is why blogs, despite not being edited or vetted, or written by experts in their fields, are definitely a legitimate voice and a worthwhile source of journalistic opinion. So there!

I know I'm preaching to the choir here - you're reading a blog after all! This might as well all be aimed at my mother, who is an academic and writer, and was appalled when I told her that I was writing one. Blogs are apparently the realm of the feeble-minded, are mostly compiled by people without a valid opinion that can't get a real gig in the writing world, and yet no matter how flawed and/or bigoted their thoughts are are able to broadcast them to an audience of millions and by consequence take money out of actual writers' pockets. The world would be a better place if we all went out and got some fresh air instead. All valid opinions, really - but having read this today I'm pleased to have an argument next time the topic comes up. And besides - NO-ONE goes out for fresh air in a Dutch February.

It almost makes me think that even I could be of use to the cricketing world at some point, beyond batting at number 11 and scoring for the Barnes Sunday XI. SURELY there must be a lucrative journalism contract out there for a lyric tenor with a cricket fetish??

I can dream.

Toothpaste!

Ladies and gentleman and far-flung followers, I have a proud announcement to make.

I understand Dutch toothpaste. That's right! It's taken me five and a half months, but I Get It Now. I'm practically a native!!

Y'see, Dutch toothpaste isn't like regular or garden-variety Australian or British toothpaste. It tends to be runnier for starters, but mostly significantly it comes in a different tube. It has a bigger, stubbier lid, and more closely resembles your average shampoo bottle.

Consider, if you will, your regular tube of toothpaste. Your everyday (well, preferably TWICE a day) tube of Colgate. It can be minty fresh, it can be gel, it can be for Extra Whitening! - that stuff doesn't matter. The important thing to consider is how it WORKS. British and Australian toothpaste works in a vacuum. When you squeeze, no air comes back in, and you make a mark in the tube that stays there. That's why, unless you're a complete arsehole, you squeeze it from the BOTTOM (those that don't will not be saved), so that next time it's all up close to the top of the tube ready to go.

Dutch toothpaste doesn't work like that. There's air in the tube, and air comes back in after you squeeze it. No matter how empty the tube, it always retains its shape. Which, if you don't understand the Dutch Toothpaste Principle, can be a right pain in the arse, because every morning you waste valuable seconds trying to get some out, particularly if it's on the empty side. It's like the almost-empty tomato sauce bottle. And we all know how annoying THAT is.

But that's just it - Dutch toothpaste IS like the almost-empty tomato sauce bottle in principle, for pretty much its entire lifespan. And what, boys and girls, do we do with almost-empty tomato sauce bottles? That's right, we store it upside down, ON ITS LID. That way, you don't have to swear and curse and shake it and wait five minutes for it all to come out in a rush and drown your bangers. If you store it upside down, it's all there, ready to go, all it takes is quick removal of the lid and there it is.

THAT'S why Dutch toothpaste has a bigger lid, and THAT'S how it works!! You store it vertically! All the time! And never EVER on its side. You read it here first.

I'm taking little steps here. Chips and mayonnaise (it's true). In fact, mayonnaise on everything. Toothpaste. In a little while I may even learn some of the language.

You know what the funny thing about Europe is? The little differences.

Vincent Vega, Pulp Fiction

People in the arts give me the shits sometimes

..... Which is kind've an empty statement, really. I mean, who doesn't get the shits from people they work with from time to time? I must admit, though, that the METHOD in which I'm given the shits from arts-based people is more than a little strange, and worth remarking upon on that basis.

A little while ago before Christmas I was singing in a Messiah. Awhile before the concert started, I was stopped by the soprano soloist, a Reasonably Well-Known Figure (names have been concealed to protect the fucking annoying). We had a good chat. She knew that I was Australian, knew that I was studying, and was full of questions about why I'd chosen to move to Holland, and what my performing history was. I thought it was all just meaningless small-talk, until she let slip that she was the Artistic Director of Reasonably Well-Known Dutch Opera Company, and would I be interested in auditioning for her - she's always after tenors to do small roles. Fantastic, I thought - maybe signing up for all these crappy gigs has actually led me towards something useful. Of course I was interested, and after she'd sworn me to secrecy (it doesn't do to be seen poaching singers from one group to another, particularly tenors) I took her contact details and said that I'd send her an email with a CV as soon as I could get to it.

The next week or so was pretty busy - I was singing with this group just about every night, and there was school to think about as well, so I didn't manage to get to sending anything straightaway. But I spoke with her quite a bit during the course of that week - more about Australia, more about opera, and quite a bit about big-band jazz, which we shared an interest in. And every now and again she'd remind me to send her "that" email.

So, one evening when I had a spare couple of hours, I sat down and did a proper going-over of my CV, and sent it off to her with a fairly extensive covering email. Was quite pleased with what I came up with - still am. And heard precisely fuck-all back for a week and a half. Thought "oh well, maybe she's busy" and thought I'd wait until after Christmas to talk about it with her again - January 2nd, to be precise.

Me: "Hi, Reasonably Well-Known Soprano, Happy New Year!"
RSWKS: "And same to you. Did you have a good Christmas?"
Me: "Not bad. Think I might have found that Mel Tormé recording you were talking about".
RSWKS: "Oh that's good! It's great, isn't it?"
Me: "Yes - fantastic! By the way, did you get my email?"
RSWKS [looks uncomfortable]: "What email?"
Me: "You know - you asked me to send you a CV and other bits and pieces about my singing".
RSWKS: "Oh! Er - oh! Oh! Was it YOU that sent me that! I was wondering who sent me that! Oh, er - right! [backs away slowly, hands move unconsciously towards the purse, presumably looking for the rape alarm]".

So I'm left standing there, feeling like a prize dick, wondering how I could possibly have mis-read the situation. But then I realised that I HADN'T - not at all, in fact. It was HER that introduced herself to ME - and she already knew a little about me. It was HER that asked me to send her the CV - and then SHE reminded me! So what gives?

I'd been air-kissed. There are thousands of air-kissers in the music world, and loads in the arts in general. I've run afoul of a few in my time. I was once approached in much the same way to do do some gigs by another reasonably well-known figure - this time an Australian - only for all my phonecalls to go unanswered and for the gigs to never materialise, resulting in me spending a Christmas in Sydney alone when I could have gone home to Perth. I've come across casting and theatrical agents who've done the same thing. Even in my publishing career - ESPECIALLY in my publishing career. The theme is always the same - YOU get approached for something, you do everything right, and then YOU'RE the one left looking like a dickhead when nothing happens. I've even had people having a go at me in these situations, like it was my fault that they got in contact in the first place.

Basically, as Bill Watterson remarked and I echoed in an earlier post, art is great, but it sure does attract its fair-share of pretentious blow-hards. People that like to get off on their own sense of power. People that like to play stupid pecking-order games. People that are basically complete morons. "This young kid in the tenor section has barely looked in my direction! He needs to think that I'm important. I know - I'll make up some bogus story about an audition so that he feels the need to impress me".

What a load of bullshit, eh? And completely counter-productive - all that I've taken from it is that I think she's a complete idiot! One thing's for sure - when I get to being Important, I'll be saving my best back-handers for any of my colleagues who act like that. It's just bloody stupid!! I'm sure I'll get my fair-few more bum steers before I get to that stage, though.....

This post is dedicated to Anonymous.