in a manu chao mood

Today is a Manu Chao mood day. I love him.

I use this song to teach and practice that "gustar" grammar formation in my class. It is how you express what you like in Spanish, but is literally translated as:
"(object) is pleasing to (indirect object)".

So "Me gusta el chocolate" would be "Chocolate is pleasing to me" or, in real English, "I like chocolate."



So...your 'sleepless night' homework: how many things can you hear Manu Chao say that he likes? What would you add to that list...just to be random? It does not have to be in Spanish (a-hem). And if you have any questions, feel free! We'll just call this lesson "Spanish 1".

Gettin' OUT

I went to see this amazing performer, Curtis Eller, last night down at the Galaxy Hut. He's an old high-school classmate of one of my friends. It had to be one of the most unique shows I have ever before seen. Check out the clip; beware of strong language. He is a real hoot.

So this means that The Queen got out of her Queen-dome for the night. YESSSSSSS

And write this down, ladies and gentlemen: I did not arrive back at the Queen-dome until

*gasp*

midnight.

For me, up every morning at 5:00 a.m. with children usually about to pounce upon me sooner rather than later, I don't usually live to see many clocks chime 9:30 or even 9 p.m.

But I made it last night.

And may I say:

it felt sooooooooo gooooooooooood

Being a beer bar, I figured there would be nothing for me (no wheat=no malt=no beer). But I lucked out as they did have wine...albeit yellowtail, they at least had cab so I didn't have to try to swallow a shiraz.

It was crowded but, as we were friends of the artist, we didn't feel too uncomfortable standing right up front with him. Chatting with my friend while her husband was talking with Curtis, I suddenly felt eyes on me...

hmmm....

I obviously haven't been out in a very, very looooooong time.

A face came out of the crowd. It was an ex-student of mine from my Uni teaching days. She said, "I can't believe it. I just told my friend, 'That's my Spanish prof!'" Obviously not anymore; in fact, she was in my class back in 2005 so it has been a few years. But I remembered her and she obviously remembered me.

This brings me to something else I read today, a postcard on PostSecret and an emailed response. The postcard reads:

"A few years ago my husband celebrated his 25th year of teaching. After touching the lives of hundreds of students not ONE RSVP'd to his surprise party. We had to cancel. He never knew it. He loves his job. I hate it."

The ensuing response:

"I always think about writing a thank you letter, or just dropping by to say hello to some of my former teachers. I've never done it because I've been afraid they won't remember me. And really? That would be crushing; finding out that I was forgotten while they were not.

"But maybe just saying it would be enough, even if they don't remember. Thank you for reminding me of that. And a heartfelt thank you to your husband for all his dedication -- you can't imagine how much it really means to me. I probably wouldn't be here if not for people like him. I'll be starting those letters today.

Sincerely,
Michelle"

Names do come and go. I have been teaching for over 15 years and never forget a face, not even a Japanese face, although ask me to remember a name and I would have to be reminded. When one has taught and interacted with so many students, in so many historical contexts over such an extended period, the names might be forgotten but the student is not. And it is not only the overachievers that are remembered; that is a common misconception.

When my father died, his funeral was attended by students of his last class of 1998, and his first class of 1967. My mother received various condolence letters from students, most of whom expressed gratitude for the motivation and example he set for them, one that made them want to become teachers (and some, even, math teachers just like him) themselves.

I am that kind of a teacher, too. I have always cared, perhaps too much, about my students and their lives. What is learned in a classroom is only valid if you are going to use it in the outside world. Use what you know from outside the classroom to help you get the stuff with which I'm trying to expand your world within the classroom. Get beyond the exams and live your life. But don't just live. LIVE! Enjoy! Laugh, cry, embrace, love, feel, do, act, react and be! Bring your experiences to class and, as long as you try to do it in español, tell us all about it!

Maybe that's why my ex-students still call me out of the blue for recommendations. They know I'll remember them.

Maybe that's why my ex-students embrace me when they see me, even years later, or contact me out of the blue after having "found" me on the Internet. They know I will remember them and they are secure.

They have absolutely no idea what good it does me, to have them recognize me, embrace me, talk to me, remember me, recall some random event that occurred or something that I said that actually stuck. That they are using in their lives today--perhaps a mantra, as in my favorite "may you live all the days of your life"...and that particular student got a D in my course, I remember...

The magic lies in the minute details, doesn't it? A simple "Hello" or a hug. Instant validation of having done right, of having done good, of having made a difference and to at least be remembered.

I am smiling today.

spies

La Princesita and the Young Prince are spies today.

They are currently running through the house, various hats from Princesita's collection on their heads, sunglasses on faces, magnifying glasses in hand, looking for "clues"...

Once in a while a random door shuts with intensity. Not slams, but there is purpose. A mission.

Mine must be to ensure my entire home is not trashed in this game.

*----*

A magical thing occurs at night when the children are tuckered out. They cuddle up, we read stories and then they want me to sing to them. They always ask for "The Pony Song." It goes like this:

Hush a bye, don't you cry
Go to sleep my little babies
When you wake, you shall have
All the pretty little horses.

In your head, Momma said
Baby's riding off to dreamland
One by one, they've begun
Prance and dance for little baby.

Blacks and bays, dapples and grays
Running through the night
When you wake, you shall have
All the pretty little horses.

Can you see the little horses
Dance before your eyes?
All the pretty little horses
Will be there when you arise.

So--hush a bye, don't you cry
Go to sleep my little babies
When you wake, you shall have
All the pretty little horses.

This I sing in a minor key. Haunting but calming, deep, my alto range enjoys this in the nighttime hours. I sang this to each of them, as a sort of an experiment, and also to calm myself at times, during my pregnancies. It so turned out that, when I would begin to sing this when they were both newborn, they would immediately calm down and listen to the song; indeed, they recognized it and my voice. One night, when the Young Prince was but four weeks old, I was traveling at night with him and a friend in the car. He would not cease to cry so I excused myself and just started singing to him that very song. He could not see me, as I was in the front seat driving, but the sound of my voice calmed him so that he could stop screaming--and my friend was amazed.

When I sing this, the neatest things occur, as did last night. The Young Prince will cuddle up with his sister, or with me, nuzzle up like a fawn would nuzzle with the top of its head, start to caress his sister's hair and tell her that he loves her. She will embrace him. They become so loving of each other, so tolerant of each other's desire to share the other's personal space for their last waking moments of their day. I just sit back, sing, watch the magic, and hope that this will help them to be the closest of siblings as they grow throughout life.

The minor key is funny; I've always been attracted to music in minor due to the range of emotions it evokes in me, however difficult it might be to play or master scales in minor (and I HATED doing scales...I only ever whipped them out for auditions, and when I could get away with it, I skipped them!). Now, when I sit down to play (excuse me, TRY to play) the Mozart "Twinkle Twinkle" variations on the piano, guess which is their favorite?

"Mommy, play the Halloween one!"

I have SO prejudiced them against nice, clean resolution and major, upbeat tones. Ja!

Good for me!

for some reason...

A lot of what I have read in many blogs this week has revolved around the idea of the pursuit of being happy with one's own self and about finding one's place and purpose in this world and in this life. For some reason all of these ideas reminded me of this song. He's one my favorites in a very trippy-sort of way, and sings in French, Spanish and English. This one is in English, with French repeating the last minute and a half or so at the end.

King of Bongo Bong-Manu Chao




Mama was queen of the mambo
Papa was king of the Congo
Deep down in a jungle
Last up banging life has Bongo

Every monkey like to be
In my place instead of me
Cause I'm the king of Bongo
Baby I'm the king of Bongo bong

I went to the big town
Where there is a lot of sound
From the jungle to the city
Looking for a bigger crown

So I play my Bongee
For the people of this city
But they don't go crazy
When I'm banging all my boogie
I´m the

King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo
Hear me when I come, baby
King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo

Nobody like to be
In my place instead of me
Cause nobody go crazy
When I'm banging all my boogie

I'm a king without a crown
And I'm losing a big town
But I'm the king of Bongo
Baby I'm the king of Bongo bong

King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo
Hear me when I come, baby
King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo
Hear me when I come

They said that I'm a clown
Making too much dirty sound
They said there is no place
For little monkey in this town

Nobody like to be
In my place instead of me
Cause nobody go crazy
When I'm banging all my boogie
I'm the

King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo
Hear me when I come, baby
King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo
Hear me when I come

Banging all my boogie
All that swing belongs to me
I'm so happy there's nobody
In my place instead of me

I'm a king without a crown
And losing a big town
But I'm the king of Bongo
Baby I'm the king of Bongo bong

King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo
Hear me when I come, baby
King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo
Hear me when I come

Mama was queen of the mambo
Papa was king of the Congo
Deep down in a jungle
Last up banging life has Bongo

Every monkey like to be
In my place instead of me
Cause I'm the king of Bongo
Baby I'm the king of Bongo bong

Hear me when I come
Hear me when I come, baby
King of the Bongo
King of the Bongo
Hear me when I come

Je ne t'aime plus mon amour
Je ne t'aime plus tout le jour
Je ne t'aime plus mon amour
Je ne t'aime plus tout le jour

Je ne t'aime plus mon amour
Je ne t'aime plus tout le jour
Je ne t'aime plus mon amour
Je ne t'aime plus tout le jour

I don't ask you to bring me flowers: for Windrider

Okay, Windy, back atcha. It's not exactly the Everglades, but I thought of this video from Colombian Fanny Lú when I saw your pics yesterday.

And makes me want to dance.

Sorry, 'Kota...she is a blonde barbie. But she is beautiful.

You never know what treasures you might find out there, especially when you are least expecting it.

Be well, Windrider. Below are the words to about half the song...really not so necessary but so you have an idea of the song. It was the images and the freedom that made me think of you.

*---*

Si se fue yo no se bien (If he left I don't really know)
aún me resigno a no entender (I still resign myself to not understanding)
que pasan noches ya sin él (now the nights go by without him)
como antes de que fuera mío. (like before when he was mine)
Definitivo yo no sé (I don't know for sure)
una semana y será un mes (one week and it will be one month)
que pasa un día sin que muera (and another day passes without my dying)
suspirando en el vacío. (sighing in the emptiness)
Y ya no quiero ser (And I don't anymore want do be)
tan debil como el viento (as week as the wind)
cuando la tormenta se ha ido (when the storm has left)
que ya no sopla y está frío (that no longer blows and it's cold)
sin tu calor (without your heat)

No te pido que traigas flores (I don't ask you to bring me flowers)
tampoco que me des bombones (nor that you give me chocolates --bonbons)
yo sólo quiero una caricia (I only want a caress)
que me digas que tú me quieres (and for you to tell me that you love me)
no te pido que te confieses (I don't ask that you confess)
ni que prometas ni que reces (nor that you promise nor that you pray)
yo sólo quiero que me digas (I just want you to tell me)
que no hay mujer que más admiras (that there is no other woman that you admire more)

Tal vez se nos fue el amor (Perhaps love left us)
por la puerta en donde entró (out the door through which it entered)
quizás en algún descuido (perhaps in some careless moment)
se escapó sin darnos cuenta. (it left without us realizing it)
Definitivo este dolor (Definitely this pain)
que me condena y me lastima (that condems and hurts me)
será la suerte quien decida (will be the luck that decides)
si me mejoro o me domina. (if I will get better or it the pain will dominate me)
Y ya no quiero ser (And I no longer want to be)
una hoja de papel (a piece of paper)
que se escribe día a día (that is written on day after day)
solamente con tu tinta (only with your ink)
te digo mi amor (I tell you, my love)

---y etc.

te voy a perder

There are days in which one can only watch certain videos or hear certain songs and cry.

Tengo tanto miedo...no me dejes sola aquí en esta maldita Tierra por favor.