#of course none of them have the numbers as soloists they had as part of the band

[louehvolution]

.

[vynegar]

vyn electrifying night ssr, part six

one last part to the story :’) there’s still a couple things to resolve~

same disclaimer and notes from part one.

youtube link to OwO雯雯‘s video of the card story

links to other parts: one two three four five

do not repost

[PART SIX]

(44:50)

Underground bar

After the show ended, the next bands went onstage one after another, continually raising the energy of the venue to a peak.

Even so, around me I could still hear discussion about Vyn’s group.

Audience member 1: This performance was great, but I still think the first group was a bit better...

Audience member 2: Seriously, there were so many hot guys in the first group, especially that soloist at the end! I wish I knew what his social media accounts are...

Audience member 1: Aaaaahh! I want to know too, I want to go comment on his posts every day.

Hearing their praise, my heart suddenly felt somewhat complex emotions.

Standing at the edge of the crowd after the finale, I could only feel a sense of confusion as I watched the noisy stage.

MC: (The audience’s reaction was so enthusiastic, I’m sure Dr. Richter and the others will rank high in this competition.)

MC: (After a while he’ll probably have to attend the awards ceremony, I can’t go look for him right now...)

I couldn’t suppress a sigh.

Right at that moment, the sound of a text message alert suddenly came from my phone.

MC: (...It’s from Dr. Richter!)

The text message only contained a brief few words –

“Don’t move, I’ll come find you.”

Just as I put down my phone, someone suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind and pulled me out from the margins of the crowd.

MC: Huh?!

My surprised exclamation was swallowed up by the roar of the audience. I turned my head, and the tip of my nose just barely brushed past the hollows of his neck.

MC: Dr...

Vyn: Let’s go.

(46:05)

Not far from outside the underground bar was an empty, spacious warehouse area.

Leaning against the storage containers, I finally started to relax as the chill of the night started to seep in.

Vyn: It’s quite noisy in there, isn’t it?

MC: It’s alright, it’s just that since everyone is so enthusiastic, and there isn’t much circulation, it felt a bit stuffy.

Vyn: Enthusiastic... Then did you also feel that way when you were watching me perform?

MC: Of course! Even though I couldn’t get to the front of the audience at the start so I could only hear it, and I missed a lot of amazing moments...

MC: I was intently watching that solo at the end. Your performance was amazing, no one else could compare!

MC: And...

And there was that interview at the end...

Vyn seemed to astutely guess what I hadn’t spoken aloud, and smoothly continued the conversation.

Vyn: Just like I said in that interview, I’ve never been this nervous before in my life. It’s a good thing you were always looking at me, or else...

Vyn: ...Or else I wouldn’t have even known what to do.

Vyn watched me with keen, shining eyes.

The cold moonlight enveloped his form, and that feeling of hazy, intoxicating weakness had me at a complete loss for a moment.

MC: Dr. Richter... Your performance really was outstanding, and even if I weren’t watching you, that wouldn’t have changed.

MC: Oh right, they’re about to announce the winners, should we go back to watch? I think there’s a good chance you guys will win!

Vyn softly shook his head at my suggestion.

Vyn: There’s no need. I already said goodbyes to them. After this competition ends, I’m going to close that phone number and cut off contact with them

Vyn: So none of this is important. It’s enough for me to have your recognition.

MC: Huh? But...

Just as I was going to continue asking him about it, my attention was caught by the sounds of a discussion from not far away.

Audience member 1: Is he really somewhere near here? Could the security guy have made a mistake?

Audience member 2: No way! That handsome guy is so noticeable, you wouldn’t mistake him even if it was your first time seeing him, let’s keep looking!

MC: (These seem to be the two audience members who were talking about Dr. Richter earlier in the bar...)

MC: Dr. Richter, it seems like they’re looking for you...

Once I said it, I suddenly felt a bit upset...

Vyn: I see...

Watching them get closer and closer to this shipping container, I subconsciously bit my lip, feeling abnormally irritated –

(48:06)

CHOICE: “Drag Vyn away” or “Let Vyn handle it”

In the end, I decided to go with the idea I had, pulling Vyn’s arm and hiding on the other side of the container.

Vyn: What.. mmph!

Under the pressure of the figures approaching us, I directly reached out my arm and covered his mouth, giving him a “shh” gesture.

He was leaning against the front of the container, initially rather shocked.

But gradually his eyes began to show a bit of mirth, and he stayed completely still, allowing me to control him under restraints that lacked actual strength.

MC: ...

I held my hand there until their footsteps slowly faded, then finally relaxed and released my hand.

Vyn: Are you satisfied now?

MC: Sorry Dr. Richter, I wasn’t thinking just now. I wasn’t trying to make you mad, I just...

Vyn: I’m not mad.

He interrupted my attempts to explain, and his smile deepened.

Vyn: On the contrary, I’m very happy that you can have this kind of reaction.

MC: !!!

CHOICE: “Drag Vyn away” or “Let Vyn handle it”

(49:02 to 50:10 in this video by Sherry’s Gaming Notes; again again, please go support them too!!)

In the end, I decided to respect Vyn’s decision, letting him choose for himself how to deal with it.

MC: (After all, they’re Dr. Richter’s fans...)

Soon after, they found Vyn and gleefully ran over.

Audience member 1: Hello! I just saw your performance, it was really really incredible!

Audience member 1: So... could you tell me your contact info? In the future I’m definitely going support you and your band a lot!

As he watched her take out her phone, Vyn remained unmoved.

Vyn: Thank you, But I’m sorry, I only competed today as a substitute member.

Vyn: I’m going to be leaving the band, so please do not bother me while you’re supporting them.

Audience member 2: That’s no problem! Even if you go solo, we’ll still support you, so...

Vyn frowned, his tone tinged with impatience.

Vyn: I said, do not bother me.

Audience member 1: Un... understood...

It wasn’t until their footsteps slowly faded that he looked at me again, his eyes smiling.

Vyn: Well, were you satisfied at my reaction?

MC: !!!

At that moment, it seemed like Vyn had completely seen through all the thoughts that I myself hadn’t even been aware of.  

But I still hadn’t felt like the weight had been lifted off my shoulders...

Vyn: However... It seems to me like you still have something weighing on your mind.

Vyn: Does it have to do with that topic from earlier that we still haven’t finished discussing?

MC: (He guessed right...)

MC: I just still don’t quite understand, why are you able to completely break off all contact with Louis and the others like that?

Vyn: Failing to make a decision when necessary will only cause trouble. What happened just now is a good example.

Vyn: I’m not part of that social circle. Once I’ve completed what I wanted to do, there is no more need to maintain contact.

I could understand what Vyn was saying, but at the same time, a powerful feeling of uneasiness rose in me.

Was it possible, that just like with those band members that hadn’t known beforehand...

There would be a day where I’d also become someone that he would break off contact with?

Vyn: But don’t worry, you’re different.

He seemed to sense my emotions, and after gently smiling at me, he put his phone in front of me.

MC: Huh?

The phone screen displayed his contacts list.

Vyn: This is the reason why I had to call you during that game of Truth or Dare.

MC: Because there’s only one phone number in here...

Vyn: Exactly. No matter how many times I change phone numbers, even if there’s a day where I stop using the phone number you’re familiar with...

Vyn: In my new phone number, there will always be a place waiting for you.

After speaking, he extended his hand towards me.

Vyn: Is that okay?

MC: ...Yeah.

I nodded.

The next moment, Vyn slightly bent at the waist, the soft strands of his hair brushing against my cheeks, just like the moonlight suspended high in the night sky.

He held me, the breath he let out lingered near my ear, mingling with his quiet whisper.

Vyn: As long as you don't want to break off contact with me, I will never leave.

Vyn: So no matter what happens, I hope you won't easily let go...

(50:42)

Vyn's house

After returning home, Vyn changed into familiar everyday clothing.

New comments continuously appeared on a tablet screen, all congratulating Louis’s band on their easy victory and successful contract with a well-known label.

He stared out the window into the night, carefully remembering everything that had just happened.

Vyn: I’m very happy that it’s not just me who gets scared.

Vyn: Because of too much passion, you feel fear, and because of fear, you appreciate it even more...

Vyn: I trust that with the proper guidance, these feelings of fear will have a positive effect...

Vyn: ...And will fulfill my wish to be with you until the very end.

[END]

[+ phone call]

[snowgoldwaylon]

A Night At The Opera - Grigori Weaver X Reader

Performing is what you loved to do best. Meeting a young soldier is just what you always dreamed off, but while you were on tour for one of the most iconic operas ever written. And you, the main character.

TW: None!

"Y/N! You are live in 10 minutes!" The producer called, as he walked past your mirror.

You glanced in the mirror and just caught the last glimpse of him leaving the room. You turned to look back at yourself in the large vanity, the lights illuminating your current hair style which stood pretty tall.

You were getting final touches to hair and makeup, and it just so happens for this opera, you were the main star. And as hollywood rules states, go big or go home. So you chose the classic big, bouncy curly hair with curled sideburns to give it spice.

It was elegant, you had little glass flowers put all through it so it would glitter and reflect off the stage lights. You wore a stunning ballgown dress, with large bell sleeves. And for the finishing touch which the hair stylist was putting in your hair?

An authentic, diamond and gold lined tiara, which had a long, lace veil attached to the back. You simply smiled at how you looked in this moment. A makeup artist came over and touched up some spots and re-applied the ruby red lipstick you had on.

As soon as they finished, you looked over yourself and smiled. You pushed a falling glass piece back into place, applied hairspray, and got up. You soothed the dress out and turned to the two who had made you look stunning.

"Thank you both, you have made my dream look come true! I think I'm going to permanently hire both of you to tour with me!" You exclaimed, giving a hand.

They both nodded graciously, and bowed with a humble 'thank you' before you were pulled away by someone.

"Okay Y/N, you will be live in one minute. You know the cues, good luck out there!" The stage coach yelled, pulling you to the side stage.

You watched as the young man who played Pollione finish his number, Meco all'altar di Venere. After the dramatic change of scene and the curtain close, the audience clapped loudly. The moment you trained for was finally here!

You watched as Klaus, the owner of the gorgeous, all original opera house approached you. You smiled, and he gave you his hand.

"Miss Y/N, do you look stunning! I must tell you before you go on, we have special guests in the audience. Not to make you worried or such, but these guests are returning soldiers from the war. One in particular who you might have the chance to meet after, is named Grigori Weaver. He loves operas, and even funded this show to go on!" Klaus exclaimed.

You were taken back by the odd sounding name. Grigori? Is that Russian? you asked yourself. You smiled at Klaus, and gave a simple nod.

"Yes Klaus, I understand. Thank you for the information. I do hope to meet him afterwards!" You said.

The stage hand tapped your shoulder, as you saw two men heading towards the curtain strings.

"I must go, Klaus. Thank you!" You said, before taking your spot center stage, right up against the curtain.

The choir filed in behind you on the risers as you stood, singing small voice warmups before it was go time. You felt nervous, but excited. Your heart raced with joy and adrenaline as the final words of the scene were spoken.

That was the cue! With the final dialouge spoken, the curtains opened. The lights suddenly filled your vision, along with the large crowd in the huge theather. A small, soft smile was written on your flawless features as the orchestra began the song.

The flute soloist filled the room with warm, beautiful, contrasted music with crescendos and decrescendos. It sounded almost ominous, but it was beautiful. You stood in the pose as practiced before.

The bell sleeves hung beautiful as you would slightly lift your arms with the music. The violins cued your very first note, and you gave it your all.

"Casta Diva, che inargenti

queste sacre antiche piante,

a noi volgi il bel sembiante

senza nube e senza vel."

You maintained a professional and elegant posture as you acted the part of your character, Norma. You swayed lightly with the music, and smiled as the choir behind you hit the correct notes, pitch, and phrases behind you. You glanced out over the crowd, and right away spotted a man wearing an eye patch in the VIP section.

Suddenly, you felt the urge to finish this aria right, and with ease. Your next cue happened, and you let the bell sleeves hang beside you.

"Tempra, o Diva,

tempra tu de’ cori ardenti

tempra ancora lo zelo audace,

spargi in terra quella pace

che regnar tu fai nel ciel.

 

Fine al rito

e il sacro bosco

sia disgombro dai profani.

Quando il Nume irato e fosco,

chiegga il sangue dei Romani.

Dal Druidico delubro

La mia voce tuonerà.

Cadrà; punirlo io posso.

Ma, punirlo, il cor non sa.

 

Ah! bello a me ritorna

Del fido amor primiero;

E contro il mondo intiero

difesa a te sarò.

Ah! bello a me ritorna

Del raggio tuo sereno,

e vita nel tuo seno,

e patria e cielo avrò.

Ah, riedi ancora qual eri allora,

quando il cor ti diedi allora,

ah, riedi a me."

With the last note of the orchestra, ending right after your vocals pitched down, you struck an elegant pose. The diamond of the tiara made you sparkle as you soaked up all limelight.

Cheers roared and echoed through the halls and walkways of the opera house. Whistles and flowers were thrown as the curtains began to slowly close. You glanced towards the man with the eyepatch again, and saw him standing up.

He joined everyone in a standing ovation because your pure and effortless talent had shaken them to the core, but in a good way. The heat of the lights brought you to a pant, and small specks of sweat beaded at the line of your hair.

The curtains finally came to a close and you released the pose. You quickly made the way backstage to cool off, so you wouldn't look rough for the finishing act.

Producers swarmed you, makeup artists, and hair artists also swarmed you like buzards so they could doll you back up. You were to keep the hairstyle for the final act, but change the dress for a Victoria era wedding dress.

TIMESKIP, END OF THE OPERA

You gathered at the entrance along with the cast to say goodbye to guests as they exited the opera house. This gave guests a chance to get autographs, pictures, and words to say. You were of course, the first at the door for the order of namesake.

Soon, the hundreds of people came, and shook hands with everyone. You were signing many autographs for many people, and snapping many pictures for all. And you were very determined to make sure everyone who asked had one.

Soon, the end of the line came, and out came the man in question. The handsome, dark haired man with the eye patch and a handsome pair of dress blues. He made conversation with everyone, and you even noticed Klaus right beside him, talking.

They came up to you last, and the rest of the cast exited to get cleaned up. You smiled as they approached, and held out your hand.

"Evening, Miss Norma. You did fantastic. My name is Grigori Weaver, could I have yours please?" He asked kindly, taking your hand and giving it a small kiss.

You blushed as Grigori let your hand go, and turned to Klaus.

"This is the gentleman who sponsored the whole show!"

"Ah yes, Grigori. Nice too meet you. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Or as you know, Norma. On behalf on all my cast and producers, coaches, and myself, we thank you. This production would have been lost if it wasn't for you kind donation." You said.

He smiled at you, and only you. He couldn't get over how flawless and just how polite you were.

"Well, as proven tonight, Miss Y/L/N, it's my pleasure. I do hope you stick around for more performances these coming years, da?" He asked.

"Well of course! I plan on staying in the opera for many years while I attend school and look for my dream job." You said.

Grigori looked at his watched, and slipped his hat on. While he fixed the collar on his jacket, he fished inside his coat for something. He pulled out a brilliant, luscious red rose and handed to you. You gratefully accepted as a blushed creeped across you.

"I must be going now, my job starts soon. But, for you, Norma. Maybe possibly I could come see you perform again this coming week?" He asked.

"Of course you can, I'd love that." You said, with a smile.

"Off I go then. Have a wonderful evening, both of you!" He said as he exited the opera house.

You watched him walk to his very luxurious car, and he looked back. You waved and turned on your heel, walking back with Klaus.

"I think you just got the VIP to fall in love with you, nyet?" He asked.

"Klaus, do not be so foolish! He was simply being nice." You said, walking up the first flight of stairs.

"But, he did say he'd be returing for the other shows. If he does, then that will prove my point for sure!" Klaus said.

You came to your dressing room, and wished Klaus a good evening as you closed the door. You set the red rose in a vase on your vanity and began carefully taking out the pieces from your hair. You couldn't stop thinking about with Grigori had said.

And over the rest of the following days the opera showed, Grigori kept his promise. Soonz the vase was overflowing with roses. And after one performance, you found yourself at one of the nicest restaurants with Grigori.

That was one hell of a night at the opera.

Taglist: @smokeywhalee @wennbergbabe @justagenderfluidstuff @goawaypleasecryingemoji @kazazure @kapanovangswife @xundeadqueenx @direwolfspostsrandomshit

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

mad woman

part of my folklore series

Summary: Kurt is concerned that Santana has lost her voice; Blaine helps her get it back. 

Notes: I really feel that this song embodies Santana. I can’t explain it but it just reminds me so much of her. HAPPY 1 YEAR OF FOLKLORE!!!!!

AO3

Anytime he heard Santana singing in the shower, Kurt wondered why she gave up performing. Sure, she had the Spotlight Diner shifts but she was seldom a soloist. More likely, Santana opted to be backup vocals unless she was feuding with Rachel that day. It was like glee all over again. Her voice silenced or drowned out by the attention seekers. She didn’t fight for it as she had during her short-lived time as a member of the Treble Tones. Hell, she wasn’t into the music as much as Elliott and Dani were when One Tree Hill had been a quintet. 

Kurt was worried about her. Though she’d deny it, Santana loved to sing. She needed glee just as much as the rest of them. The problem was since she moved to New York it was like she lost her voice. 

He remembers feeling like that when he first arrived. Without NYADA, Kurt was another drop in the huge sea of city folk. No longer did he stand out for his bold fashion choices or being gay. Here, the things that once made him eccentric were just another thing people tried to ignore as they went about their days. No one in the city had time to pick on or compliment a newcomer from a small town in Ohio. 

At first, Kurt liked it because the fear of being beaten for being himself had completely vanished within a few weeks of moving. That was all behind him. Way back in Lima. After a few months, the novelty wore off. He actually started to miss the stares from his classmates at McKinley High. 

He hated to admit it but Rachel may have been right when she said they were similar. Sometimes, Kurt felt like Tinkerbell too. He needed applause to live. Craved the attention. Then, he got it at the Winter Showcase. Madame Tibideaux handed the limelight to him on a silver platter. The entirety of the NYADA staff got to hear him sing. 

Of course, he could’ve thrown up because he was so nervous and completely unprepared. Yet, it had been exhilarating. That rush of being on stage with a captive audience. Combined with his attendance to NYADA being on the line, Kurt hadn’t felt this energized since he last saw Blaine in person. 

None of that seemed to faze Santana Lopez. 

Honestly, after pulling her into the band and having her quit, recommending the evening dance classes at NYADA, and taking her out to Callbacks on weekends, Kurt was out of ideas. She refused to get on stage. But he saw that small smile on her face when she hummed under her breath when she thought no one was listening. No matter how vehemently she denied it, she missed singing. So, Kurt called Blaine. 

“I don’t know, Kurt, it’s kinda hard to help when I’m not seeing the situation for myself.” Blaine sighs, likely bummed he can’t solve this. 

Kurt practically saw him pouting through the phone. Thank god, they weren’t on Skype. He hated seeing his boyfriend looking so defeated when he wasn’t there in person to kiss the top of his head. 

Blaine had become the self-proclaimed advice-giver of the New Directions since he transferred. 

He helped Mike Chang fix his relationship with Tina when they had a week-long fight about only eating at Asian restaurants on their date nights. Tina had been pissed. No simple apology was going to cut it.  Blaine single-handedly compiled a list of Tina’s favorite places to eat and added a few of his personal favorite date night places. 

When Finn would forget special dates and Rachel got fussy about how Finn never uses the couple calendars she made for them, Blaine stepped in and helped him set up a reminder alert on his phone. 

And there was that whole fiasco about Miss Pillsbury not-so-subtly hinting that she wanted to get engaged. Blaine was able to straighten Mr. Schue out pretty quickly that day. For the life of him, that man didn’t understand why Miss Pillsbury was acting so weird. 

“You don’t have to be so roundabout, you know?” Kurt told him. 

“Huh.” Playing dumb, typical.

“Just come up to the city, Blaine,” he said. “I know you want to ask.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, boyfriend of mine,” Blaine huffed. “I have zero ulterior motives while being completely unhelpful to your current predicament.” 

“Uh-huh, I’m sure that’s the case. I’ll see you next week.” 

“Unless Cooper can find an earlier flight!” Blaine exclaimed. 

He had been using up the countless number of frequent flyer miles his older brother had racked up to make weekend trips to New York. After Cooper discovered their long-distance relationship (likely after one too many late-night calls from Blaine missing his boyfriend), he offered them to Blaine. 

Blaine arrived the following Friday. McKinley had some teacher’s day so Blaine was able to hop on a morning flight. He was waiting in the loft when Kurt finished classes for the day. 

“Okay, we’re going to Callbacks tonight,” Kurt said, removing his coat. 

“Hello to you too,” Blaine replied, standing up from the sofa. “How are you, Blaine? How was the flight, Blaine? I missed you so much, Blaine.” 

Kurt rolled his eyes and ignored his boyfriend. 

“This isn’t about you, Blaine,” he said, “it’s about Santana.” 

“Wow, Blaine, you look great! Aren’t those my yellow pants you’re borrowing?” Blaine crossed his arms. 

“Hey!” Kurt exclaimed. “Those are my pants!” 

“Yeah.” Blaine blushed. “I rolled them so they’d fit better.”

Kurt marched over to him and knocked him onto the couch. “You look hot in my clothes.” 

“I look better out of them.” 

Instead of verbally agreeing, Kurt unbuttoned his yellow pants. Blaine was quick to keep up removing his own shirt and attempting to pull off Kurt’s as well. However, Blaine was sitting on the couch and Kurt was kneeling between his legs. It was proving to be rather difficult a task. 

“Kurt…” Blaine groaned, “come up here with me.” 

“I can’t very well do what I want up there, Blaine.” 

He sat up straighter. “Is this payment for not properly greeting me because I’ll take a blowjob over ‘how do you do’ any day?” 

Kurt pressed his face into Blaine’s naked thigh. “So long as you aren’t accepting blowjobs from anyone but me.”

“No, I would…” Kurt licked around Blaine’s hip. “Never.” 

Within seconds, Blaine’s head was fully tipped over the back of the couch and the only thing coming from his mouth were moans. He couldn’t even force the word ‘Kurt’ from his lips. When Kurt finally gave in and decided Blaine had received efficient teasing, he sucked at the tip until Blaine screamed his name. 

They were quick to clean up their mess afterward, unsure of when the girls would be home. It was one thing to have sex in the living room, it was a whole other to get caught. Though, Kurt figured Rachel owned him after Brody paraded around naked for the few months they dated.  

“Okay, now that we’ve defiled Santana’s bed, can we focus on helping her?” 

“Step one, don’t tell her about this,” Blaine suggested. 

Kurt slapped Blaine’s chest. 

“Ow.” 

“Be helpful. You said if you were in New York, you’d be able to help better. So do it.” 

“FIne,” Blaine replied, “no Callbacks. I have a better idea.” 

Turns out that idea was a speciality club night of Alternative Tunes. 

“It’s open mic. There’s gonna be singers, poets, magicians, and I heard their harpist is opening tonight,” Blaine explained, as they waited in line. 

“Is that why she brought your violin?” Rachel questioned. 

“Yup!” Blaine held up his black case. “I haven’t played to an audience of more than one in a while.” 

Kurt smiled at him. He loved when Blaine performed just for him almost as much as he enjoyed watching Blaine in front of an audience. Something about his face just lit up on stage. The same way Santana’s did in front of a microphone. 

“As much as I love talking about violins…” She rolled her eyes, “is there alcohol at this place?” Santana asked, “because that’s like 90% the point of going out.” 

“Yes, there’s alcohol,” Kurt confirmed. 

He told Blaine they’d need at least two drinks into Santana before they brought up performing to her. Which proved true. After nursing two long island ice teas, Santana was finally talking to Blaine about being on stage. He hadn’t gone up yet and she was teasing him.

“Come on, you brought your own instrument and everything,” she said. “Give us a show and tell.” 

With that, Blaine stood up and walked to the stage. No one was in line so he went right up after the juggler finished. He tapped the microphone and introduced himself.

“I’d like to dedicate this first one to my boyfriend.” 

He mouthed an “I love you” towards Kurt, who blew a kiss back. 

Then, he was lost in the strings. The next song he did was for Santana. Blaine didn’t announce it or anything but he watched her face when he could during the progression of the song. When he finished his set, Blaine thanked the audience. Kurt whistled and clapped, Rachel was jumping up and down while screaming for an encore, and when Blaine was back at the table Santana offered to buy him a drink. 

Without Kurt even realizing it, the next performer on stage was Santana. Just her. She didn’t introduce herself as Blaine did, the piano music just started to play and then she was singing. 

“What do you sing on your drive home?

Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn?

Does she smile?

Or does she mouth, ‘Fuck you forever’?” 

Kurt couldn’t say why exactly but the song suited her well. Santana was always one to command an audience when she soloed. Soft instrumental with harsher lyrics was always her style. 

While Santana had the audience and Kurt captivated, Blaine bounced back over to their table. He had two drinks in his hand. 

“For you,” he said, passing Kurt a mojito. 

In return, Kurt pecked his check. He really was so lucky. Then, his full attention went back to the stage. 

 “Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy

What about that?

And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry

And there's nothing like a mad woman

What a shame she went mad

No one likes a mad woman

You made her like that”

 As Santana finished her song, Kurt and Rachel turned to Blaine, who was positively beaming. He’d done exactly what he had told Kurt he could do. 

“How?” Rachel asked. 

“I’m a smooth talker,” Blaine said with a smirk. 

Kurt rolled his eyes.

 If anything, his boyfriend was a clumsy mess. Romantic and adorable? Yes. Tripped over his words? Constantly. 

“Come on, Blaine, give it up,” Kurt said. 

“Magicians never reveal their secrets.” 

Rachel huffed. She had a glint in her eyes suggesting she wasn’t giving up. Rachel rarely did when she really wanted something. Kurt had a theory that she could pester anyone enough to get what she wanted. Example A, a ticket to NYADA by tracking down the head of admissions and inviting her to Chicago to watch a show choir competition.  

Before Kurt could tell Rachel to drop it, Santana returned. She had a new drink in her hand. 

“Compliments of the lady in red,” she told them. 

“Excellent song choice,” Kurt said.

“Blaine’s idea.” she shrugged, sipping her drink. 

Blaine was still beaming. 

“It’s perfect for her, isn’t it?” Blaine replied, “When I first heard it I knew I had to hear Santana do a cover of it.” 

Santana winked at him from across the table. 

“What is going on with you two?” Rachel asked. “The devil incarnate and the sun from teletubbies should not get along this well.” 

Santana shrugged. “He’s besties with Britt.” 

“It’s true.” Blaine nodded.  “She even called us the Sunshine Twins.” 

Kurt’s eyes drift to Blaine’s—his—yellow pants. “Yeah, that fits.” 

[kpop-rambles]

Goodbye 2019. Hello 2020.

To celebrate the new year - which a lot of people are celebrating right now, I’m sure, unfortunately not me yet - I decided to create this post. I don’t know how to explain it but if you like kpop, keep reading!

My Top 3 Songs of 2019

1. SKZ - Miroh

This song got me into my now ult group, Stray Kids. Those 9 boys have honestly made this year 10x better for me. Chan’s VLives definitely helped me when I was upset, and the members made me feel emotions by their side. I’m so glad that add of Miroh appeared and I chose to watch it because I may have not gotten into Stray Kids without it. 

2. ATEEZ - Wave

Again, another song that got me into the group. I heard the song in a video where they played huge jenga at Kcon... I think? Anyways, this song is another banger and you completely fall in love with it first listen. You won’t regret listening to this.

3. TWICE - Fancy

I got into TWICE when they released YES OR YES, but FANCY is the song that you can’t not fall in love with. I did on my 2nd listen and man, if you’re saying you didn’t learn the dance and bopped to this song, you are LYING because- let’s be honest - everyone said FANCY SOTY. 

Groups I began stanning in 2019 its felt like forever tho

Stray Kids - March 26th. You think I would forget? 

ATEEZ - August 18th. Another date I remember, because I spent a good 2 hours getting to memorize the members name and faces. Was so happy when I finally did it. 

iKON - Honestly, I was more of a Double B stan since January until Hanbin left. I loved their songs but I never got to know the rest of the members, except for Jinhwan. 

ChungHa - Snapping dragged me in. That’s all I gotta say. Although, ngl, Gotta Go was something I always tried to dance to. 

KARD - Again, Bomb Bomb just pulled me into the fandom. The rest of their discography made me stay. I sang along to Bomb Bomb everyday for a good 3 months. It was honestly EVERYTHING to me and then Dumb Litty came and stole my heart and KARD did it AGAIN.

Mamamoo - gogobebe. Do I really need to say anything else?

GOT7 - I’m pretty sure I got into them because, well everyone knows GOT7. They’re a name everyone knows if you like kpop, so I just wanted to get into them. Eclipse and You Calling My Name are songs I’ll dance and singalong to in the right mood and right part of the song. But their personalities dragged me in. I’m pretty sure BamBam also attracted me when he was on Stray Kids reality show. 

Day6 - Time Of Our Life. I decided to listen to it because Seungmin of Stray Kids was a big fan of them and I was like, it shouldn’t hurt to try. Seungmin made me want to watch and Day6 made me want to stay. They don’t make ANY bad songs. 

Everglow - March 18. Listened to Bon Bon Chocolat when it came out, and I was honestly scared ppl were gonna sleep on them cause ITZY debuted a month before. Fortunately, everyone noticed their talent. 

BigBang - I dunno just listened to one of their songs. And, of course, I fell in love. Too late to stan them while they were active, but I’m expecting something in 2020... just saaying.

NCT - All of the subunits. Honestly there were so many of them, I spent time taking tests to tell them apart. The struggle to stan these boys. Instantly fell in with the Dreamies. And then I found out they weren’t a fixed unit... My heart shattered. It’s still breaking because 4 OF THEM ARE LEAVING. or left. I dunno. 

Tomorrow by Together - They were probably the most anticipated group of this year. I remember ppl hyping them up in October of 2018! Predebut stan right here. (I just remembered that I thought the preview of each member was coming out in age order and thinking that Beomgyu was the youngest. And I was just like WHERE IS HEUNINGKAI FROM?!?!)

ITZY - remember when everyone thought that itzy’s debut was rushed because info about them was leaked. yeah, i forgot too. anyways, again I was a predebut stan. 

(G)- idle - i always listened to their title tracks and I began stanning them during Queendom after their Fire cover im listening to 2ne1 2015 mama fire performance rn lol.... omg bom’s han cover just started playing. spotify is watching me guys.

Somi - Birthday was a bop. fight me. outfits sucked, gotta agree with that opinion I didn’t rlly know much about IOI but I started stanning because Jenchu were fangirling to it i mean jennie twerked for it!

Jimin Park - I’m out here still streaming STAY BEAUTIFUL. honestly she’s so loveable. her personality and her voice are everything. how can you not like her

My Top 5 Groups of the Year

1. STRAY KIDS - A lot of the reasons I luv them are the same as ATEEZ. That’s why ateez are close to being my number one, but honestly these 9 boys are everything to me. 9 or NONE FOREVER. They have been through so much this year and I hope they STAY strong for 2020. In their 2020 seasons greeting they announced a full album next year, so I’m ready to follow these boys on their journey no matter how many stay or leave. I’m a STAY for a reason. 

2. ATEEZ - PERSONALITY. I’m also a sucker for groups that shove their love for each other in your face. 8 makes 1 team, y’know? Hongjoong and Mingi are amazing rappers, Jongho, Wooyoung and San’s vocals tho, Yunho and Seonghwa’s deep voices are the death of me, and Yeosang dancing. They’re talented and luvable and that’s all I need for an ult group. also all their songs are bops

3. Mamamoo - Honestly would’ve tied with Twice but these I’m a sucker for them as ppl as well, and I need that to luv a group. they ain’t fake, they slap information in your face and they are POWERFUL WOMAN. (Not saying twice aren’t ofcourse) And these girls vocals are on POINT. Moonbyul is rapper material, but have you heard the girl song? What an angel. Their songs are all slaps, especially the most recent ones. 

4. TWICE - This was their year? yes or yes. Fancy soty. Feel Special was a great title track, don’t get me wrong, bUT HAVE YOU HEARD THE FULL ALBUM. Every song is my AMAZING. omg rainbow is playing

5. NCT DREAM - These boys stole my heart, I only stanned nct because of them. Honestly seeing the 00 line leave breaks my heart.

My Top 5 girl group and boy group songs

gg songs were honestly so hard to pick, they thrived and SO many good songs were made in 2019. But here is my list. 

1. Fancy - soty

2. Hip - this song was everything from the choreo to the song itself to the girls energy performing it

3. Psycho - came out like last week but it’s in everyone's top 10 of this year. Beautiful song that won’t get outta my head. getwellsoonwendy.

4.Violeta - this is another song that won’t get out of my head. honestly none of these songs will. ok so the final dance part after the drop of violeta pisses me off because the dance could is so powerful and that part comes and it’s such a disappointment but it’s the only part I can do so i shouldn't complain  but the song itself is very catchy. I don’t want these girls to disband even if the votes were rigged because they make a good group and sing bangers. i don't want them to leeeave.

5.Lion - the song is just so powerful. other songs they’ve made are good, but the chorus is usually a disappointment because the pre chorus is so good but EVERYTHING is great about Lion. Didn’t like it at first for some reason, i dunno why, but once you give it a few more listens you’ll fall in love. 

Now onto the boy groups. They made quite a few bangers this year as well.

1. Miroh - It’s my no.1 of the year. watchu expect?

2. Wave - and this is my no.2. Again, what else would I put here?

3. Run Away - what. a. bop. still can’t get out of my head. Crown was a disappointment to me after 1000 listens but not Run Away. A bonus is the Harry Potter references. With that I just was head over heels in love. Txt didn’t fail to disappoint with their comeback even if it was pushed back. 

4. Boom - This song made me fall in love with the talent that NCT DREAM holds despite being so young. Sang along for a few months. Actually, it’s still in my head. 

5. Make It Right - I was doing title tracks for all these but then I realised there has to be an exception because I just really like this song, especially the one featuring Lauv. Boy with luv wasn’t it for me but every other song on Persona is a straight up masterpiece (ok an exaggeration but u get what i mean)

Now onto the soloists (they’re all female, sry not sry)

1. Chica - I was debating whether to put Snapping or this but decided with Chica. Honestly the vocals, the song, the dance, the MESSAGE, is everything. I love it, it empowers woman, it makes ME feel good, and it’s what some people really need sometimes. So, thank you ChungHa. 

2. Gotta Go - another bop by our queen ChungHa, she really ruled this year. I didn’t stan her when it came out but that doesn’t mean I didn’t do the ‘deulshi’ part whenever I heard it. iconic.

3. Twit - Again another iconic bop from this year. (i thought this masterpiece came out last year, i dunno why but it just is so 2018 for some reason? I dunno) Hwasa’s solo debut really was everything. So was Moonbyul’s which unfortunately didn't make it on the list but I would say it’s in between 5th to 7th for me. 

4. Stay Beautiful - Such a beautiful song, it was a shame Jamie had to leave but she left JYP saying that they lost smth PRECIOUS and they would regret it and she conveyed all that in one song without hinting at it. So many quote worthy lyrics were in the song and it just bring up my mood and my standard for vocals. Don’t sleep on this girl, y’all. 

5. Birthday - the song brought out mixed reactions from everyone but i LOVED IT. It did get a bit old but it’s still something you’ll find me singing along to every now and then. 

ARTISTS THAT STOOD OUT TO ME THIS YEAR 

1. Bang Chan of Stray Kids. I love him. He’s such a great leader, he’s a loveable person, he’s all rounded and he fucks up sometimes but he acknowledges it and fixes it. He went through so much shit this year and he deserves so much more. I, along with many other STAYs are gonna make 2020 a better year for him and all of his group. Stay strong Chan! But besides his personality his stage presence, his rapping, his singing, his producing, his energy, his personality, it all made him someone who was always on my mind. 

2. Yeonjun of Tomorrow x Together. He’s also very well rounded and he really stands out to me from all the other 4th gens. Whenever I see a performance by TXT he always grabs my attention even when he’s not the main focus. I love his dancing, it’s very eye catching to me, along with his stage presence. He never loses his energy on stage and I expect a lot from him in 2020! His rapping and singing are amazing as well, especially for a rookie. Also when they first debuted he cried a lot, which was very heartwarming to me because idols showing emotion other than happy is something I appreciate, because it lets me remember they’re human too.

3. Seulgi of Red Velvet. She’s, again, very well rounded. I’m not really a Reveluv, but Wendy and Seulgi are vocalists who really stand out to me so those to kind of make me want to listen to Red Velvet’s songs. She’s an amazing vocalist, like words can’t express how much a love this woman's voice. Her stage presence is amazing as well, she’s just a really good performer imo.

4. Jihyo and Nayeon of TWICE. First of all I really like their personality and how powerful they are. Honestly a wink from them and I’m falling of my chair. Secondly, I don’t know if anyone's noticed but I really like powerful female vocals, and these two have extremely POWERFUL vocals. Have you heard them sing? Just... POWERFUL, that’s all I can really say to describe their voices. 

5. Mingi and Hongjoong of ATEEZ. They are rapper that are gonna blow away the whole industry with 3racha, I mean they already have. Did y’all see their performance in MAMA. The RAWEST vocals I heard that whole show. They were obviously not lip syncing, you could hear Mingi panting and he didn’t rap a whole line, and I LOVE that because it is RAW and we need more raw vocals or atleast breaths heard when the artists are dancing because it makes the performance more REAL. also stage presence is amazing from these two, they really know how to hype up a crowd. 

ROOKIE GROUPS I EXPECT A LOT FROM NEXT YEAR

sorry my expectations are high for them, but they have stood out tome so much and i couldn’t stand to see them flop. 

1. TOMORROW X TOGETHER - they’ve been on this list quite a lot, and I really appreciate their individual talents along with them as a group. I REALLY want to see them improve and grow more next year because they were really pushed this year, being BTS’s juniors. I’m sure they were really stressed but I want them to become TOMORROW BY TOGETHER not BTS’s juniors. Probably won’t happen in a year but hopefully in the next decade.

2. ITZY - another group really known for theing the juniors of TWICE this time. The title tracks they released so far have all been listen to it the first time, you don;t like it, but listen to it the 2nd time and it’s stuck in your head for the next 7 months. Honestly if they keep going like this, it would be like a ITZY thing, and I honestly wouldn’t mind. 

3. EVERGLOW - i think everyone just saw bon bon chocolat, gave it a listen, and loved it. but i also heard it was produced by someone who helped produce Crown by TXT and Spring Day by BTS, so there’s another reason ppl may have liked it so much. Adios wasn’t a disappointment at all.  Of course, I would also love it if Everglow kept up the “nanana” thing in each of their title tracks.

4. ATEEZ - I don’t think they’ll flop at all next year. I know they just had their 1st year anniversary, but I wouldn’t mind a full album... either way, Imma stick with them because they’ve only released that good shit so far and I’m honestly expecting a somewhat mediocre song at least once in their career next year. Not expecting it though. 

5. ONEUS - I haven’t’t talked about them yet but all of oneus’s title tracks are absolute gold. I am a mess for Valkyrie, Twilight AND Lit. They’re all just AMAZING songs. I mean, what did we expect from Mamamoo’s juniors but. They are REALLY good. Just go listen to all their title tracks rn. 

And finally, wishes for 2020

- Of course, Wendy to recover after her tragic incident at SBS. Again, I hope she recovers well

- Mina to come back from her hiatus, only if she’s ready to, of course

- BLACKPINK FULL ALBUM. ROSE SOLO. PLEASE.

- Of course, 4th gen to thrive along with 3rd gen and 2nd gen groups

- A full album from stray kids (which was confirmed) and again, maybe for ATEEZ? just maybe? 

- More attention for Mamamoo. They are underrated queens. 

- Less hate for Tomorrow By Together. People bash them just because they’re BTS’s juniors. they would be praised a less but definitely not doubted way more if they weren’t under Bighit. Yeah, they get luxuries other groups won’t but that doesn’t mean people should degrade them for it. 

And with that

I wish everyone a Happy New Year. May your next decade be filled with happiness and joy! omg fancy started playing

also i didn’t have time to properly edit this. then again i am a rambling blog, so what are you expecting?

[martinlawless]

British Cycling National Masters Road Race Championship 2021

Category D, 45-49 year olds, E1234 Garstang, Lancashire 7 August 2021

The British Cycling National Masters Road Race, like the circuit race equivalent, is an annual championship that has races in five-year categories. I’m in the 45-49 band, or ‘Category D’ class, for this one.

It’s on the Oakenclough road race circuit near Garstang, that goes into the Forest of Bowland, an official Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, in Lancashire. I don’t know it at all and drive the loop twice the evening before. I find out it’s brutal and look again at the maths I did to understand how hard it would be. I had the numbers wrong by some way. It’s a 10-mile lap with about 1,000ft of climbing each time, pan flat initially, that then turns north and climbs. And climbs. And climbs. For 5 miles in total. Then it turns one more time and climbs silly to the top. I will guess at near 20%. It then rockets downwards for 4 miles, more steeply than the ascent, twisting sharply here and there.

That’s not all. The road surface, in parts, is awful. Worn down and ragged through neglect and harsh winters. It’s beautiful all around, but the tarmac is ugly. You’re sheltered quite well on the ascent. On the descent you look west and can clearly make out Blackpool Tower, the Irish Sea and Morecombe Bay in the distance on a clear day – lovely – but you also face the fierce prevailing wind fresh from the sea. It’s a difficult course. And, for me I know it won’t offer the ‘traditional’ benefits of a road race. As I reflect the night before, the ups and downs I reckon will split the pack and it will be attrition for all individually.

Race day. The weather, as forecast, is abominable. It’s quite warm… around 15 degrees, but it’s very wet. Steady rain, low cloud and very often intense, heavy storms coming and going, bringing dark skies and low visibility. The sort of astonishing weather you take videos on your phone with and post online. Remarkably, as we take the briefing and get behind the car to the start, the rain stops and there’s even a hint of sun. We’d go on to do much of the first lap in the dry. But then it all came back with a vengeance.

I was pleased with how I’d dressed. Race suit. Thin, string wicking vest. Good rain resistant arm warmers. Aero-socks, utterly glued to the legs with spray glue. Neoprene full-finger gloves. Ashwell cap with a good visor. This worked well on the day. I knew it would not get that cold even though I was thinly attired. And I wouldn’t get heavy through soaked clothes. The fingers would be fine in the neoprene ‘wet suit’ gloves. I packed four gels and a chewy bar. I took one bottle, as my dad was in the feed zone at the top of the lap to pass new bottles. Every gram would count on this climbing-fest.

We’re off. We are mixed in with the 40-44 year olds race. There’s a good few DNSs – but there’s plenty about as we head off. The flag goes down from the car and we’re off. A mixed bag of riders from all over the country. There’s gravity towards local clubs but they really are from all over the place. Initially, it’s all good. I’m just surfing the wheels and settling in. Then it turns upwards. I can’t tell whether it’s nervousness or exertion, but I am finding it hard to get a rhythm on the ascent. I’m OK, but just can’t seem to get on top of my breathing. It’s surging and whirling a bit as everyone is releasing adrenaline and finding their way into the race. Maybe towards the latter of the ascent, I feel the pace is too hot and dig in and start to burn a match. Ordinarily in this situation, I might hide in the bunch here. The issue is that we’re not really going fast enough for the drafting effect of the bunch to make a massive difference. There isn’t really anywhere to hide. I figure we are already losing riders as we turn for the big bit. All credit to anyone who turns up to race, has a go, dies a death almost instantly and then comes back for more another day.

The big hill is cruel. I am well in the red and sliding back. By the time we crest it, I’m with four others and the bunch is several bike lengths away. But there’s no panic – from any of us. We know what to do. Without going deep, we hustle into a quintet and begin a chaingang. Our race is not over, it’s just a different way to do well.

Lap 2 is largely consolidation and finding rhythm. Cleveland Wheelers chap is a fantastic descender, and it turns out he used to race downhill. He just needs a bit of help on the climbs. Horwich CC fella is happy to do long turns and give us all a break. Chester CC rider is keeping spirits high with his jokes, and the shop team fella is quite quiet, I think hanging in there a bit, but helping on the front like the rest of us.

The rain gets really bad. No, like really bad. I can feel it spilling out of the top of my shoes. My cap is doing well to give me a clear line through my glasses. But it’s limited. It’s so thick and intense, it’s hurting on the downhill and I wonder if it’s hail. But it’s just walloping big rain. Potholes and loose gravel everywhere. This is very technical in parts. Too often the chosen line is the better of many holey evils. I take a turn badly and an oncoming Range Rover slides by too close for comfort. It’s rough. We put a lot of faith in bikes, hurtling around these lanes and over tight bridges.

We carry on though. My gloves are brilliant to fight off cold although dexterity plummets with them on. I attempt three bottle catches but only make one. I can’t feel much too well. That’s fine. I’m not too thirsty in this weather. I’m drinking from the road spray, as it were.

The turning point in my mind is late on. Earlier in the race, I’d expected we’d hoover up dropped riders into our gang. Those who would be spat out from the front. But we’d seen none. OK, through time checks, we knew we were losing around 3 minutes a lap on the bunch, but all the same, a solo rider would soon be caught. But, nothing. Then, in the latter part of the race, we pass one rider. He’s absolutely blasted. We urge him to get on our train, but he’s busted and twiddling to the end of the lap or something. This starts to make me think that the bunch is chewing up riders and they’re not dropping back, they’re quitting. I start to wonder how many dropouts it would take for us to place. National races have points down to 15th place. We could be in with a shout?

I’m galvanized. Of the five in our group, just me and Cleveland are in the 45-49 category. I think all we need to do is stick it out, not get lapped and get over the line.

My feet begin to hurt. I realise I’ve lost all sensation and have tightened and tightened the BOA dials until it’s restricting bloodflow. I loosen the shoes and feel instant relief, eat a bar to avoid cramp from too many gels and sugar, and navigate the climb once more.

As we take on the daft steep bit again, to start the last lap, out of the blue, the chequered flag is dropped. With just around 20 metres, the five of us realise our finish is suddenly in front of us and we break out a sprint. I’m caught out and I’m third of our five over the line. More precisely, Cleveland in my race category is in front of me. The commissaires decide to pull us out and shorten the race, given the conditions, with one lap to go – in part as mercy for racers and organisers stuck on the wet hill. I politely ask if we will still place despite this and not be classed as a DNF – and the judges reassure me this is the case. Suddenly, our race is done. I am relieved. It’s stopped raining. I’m in among the throng at the line and I now get to see the front of the race finish.

It’s amazing how in pieces the front of the race is. The soloist winner has a massive gap over the next few riders, who have minutes over the next solo rider, etc. I’m counting the riders, and their category, to get an idea of who is in race C and D. Eventually a very depleted bunch comes through. I count around 27 finishers in total for both races, with most being in the other ‘yoof’ race. I’m getting excited. Top 15 surely?

Back at HQ, I have a brief chat with Chris, the winner, and watch him get his National jersey. Amazing. Then I go to the results page. There I am 12th place out of just 12 finishers in our D race. Less than one-third the total. That’s 4 BC points.

On a bit of a high, me and my dad do a mini driving tour of the Trough of Bowland and I get a coffee at the Inn at Whitewell, widely regarded as one of the best pubs in the UK. This was a race where it paid off to stay in your comfort zone, keep a match or two, and keep your head down while others suffered greater. This way, you can, over time, survive when the pace and conditions are brutal – to climb the ranks over those who blow up.

It’s not the race I wanted through. I was quite a way off in power for the front. I resolve if I do it next year, I will focus on losing 4-5kgs. I’ll also be in the 50-54 band. That should all balance the ratio out a bit. It would be a nice summer aim.

I also can tell you now, if I do it next year, it will be raining reet hard in Lancashire on that Summer’s day.

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/5755327593

[artmutt]

Thomas Mann’s “Doctor Faustus”

Thomas Mann’s novel Doctor Faustus: The Life of the German Composer Adrian Leverkühn as Told by a Friend, dates from Mann’s time as a German expat, living in Southern California. Indeed, Mann was one of the leading figures in the large German expat community that grew up in Hollywood, beginning in the late 1920s. Having just re-read the novel, for the first time in 40 years, in a new translation by John E. Woods, I am struck by the combination of love for and dismay with German culture Mann’s narrator displays. [Spoiler alert: I’m going to be talking about plot details here, so if you plan on reading this book someday, maybe stop reading now.]

I’ve long been a fan of so-called meta-fiction, in which an author writes a book that is as much about the act of writing as it is about the supposed content of the book. So although Doctor Faustus is ostensibly about the life of a composer, one might see it as a work about any creative figure, and given the self-consciousness of the narrator, a man attempting to write a biography about a friend that he clearly idolized, Mann has created a classic example of the unreliable narrator for us. When the narrator asserts “I am not writing a novel here,” or notes “If I were writing a novel...” one cannot help but think, “Ah, Herr Mann, but you are writing a novel, aren’t you?” And indeed, the act of writing, the difficulty of writing, is very much a part of the subject, so much so that our narrator occasionally completely loses track of his topic, and spends many pages going on about the difficulty of accomplishing any kind of writing in a Germany that is engaged in the end-game of World War II. Indeed, I will go so far as to assert that the Faustian “bargain with the devil” that is at the core of this text is really the strange, compromised relationship between the author and the country has both loves and despises.

The book demonstrates a slippery relationship between fiction and reality. So, for example, the main character of Adrian Leverkühn, spends many years of his life, living in a tiny rural community a short train-ride away from Munich, in a town called Pfeiffering (”whistling”). Of course, there is no such town to be found in Bavaria. From the narration, it ought to be about midway between Munich and Oberammergau, but it simply doesn’t exist. Similarly, other locations that are described as real in the text simply are not real. At the same time, actual historical personages are dropped into the tale. So when Leverkühn travels to Switzerland for a performance of one of his compositions, the conductor is Paul Sacher, who was indeed active as a conductor and commissioner of new music in Switzerland. This adds to the meta-fictional ambience of the work, because while the orchestra and conductor might be real, the soloist performing in Leverkühn’s work is a fabrication.

Oh, and that soloist brings up another wrinkle. Leverkühn seems to me to be homosexual. The narrator, who loves Adrian as a life-long friend, does not seem to catch this in his “affect,” but many of his personality quirks suggest it to me. He has one unfortunate experience with a prostitute, but the rest of his important relationships seem to be with other men. In particular, his relationship with a young, attractive, flirtatious violinist is described in such sexual terms that it is hard not to assume the part of Leverkühn’s devilish bargain has to do with his sexuality. I also wonder why none of the doctors who examine him seem to be able to diagnose him as having syphilis, when that is clearly what he’s suffering from. Well, that and a narcissistic personality disorder.

Mann felt the need to provide an apology at the end of the book, because in Chapter 22, his main character outlines a method of composing music that is unmistakably the so-called 12-tone method of Arnold Schoenberg. Considering that Schoenberg’s technique, and his Theory of Harmony, were “borrowed” for the novel, it is interesting that Mann then apologizes for attributing to Adrian something that is “the intellectual property” of someone else. When Schoenberg learned that Mann had done this, before the novel was published, he supposedly complained, “If he had just asked me, I would have been glad to come up with another method for his fictional composer to use.” But considering the mystical, mysterious, mathematical qualities that Schoenberg’s method contained, it’s perhaps understandable why Mann might want to borrow the ideas for his novel about a composer who sells his soul to the devil. Particularly, the Schoenbergian use of so-called “magic squares” - something that had been in use since the Middle Ages - must have seemed to shimmer with occult possibility.

Alas, when writers try to describe musical works and methods, they invariable flub things to greater or lesser degree. While Chapter 22 does indeed give a reasonable explanation of how Schoenberg’s 12-tone method creates musical unity in a work, other musical references go astray. One passage talks about how harmony works, in the context of what is called modulation - changing from one key to another - and he speaks of how, in the key of A, the A must resolve to a G#. In point of fact, exactly the opposite is the case: tonality’s sense of direction is driven, in part, by the need to move the so-called “leading tone” upward to the tonic. So it is G#’s push upward to A that fuels the engine of A major, not the other way around. In another spot, there is mention of Debussy’s sonata for flute, violin and harp, which would be fine, except that the work uses a viola, not a violin. 

The novel’s narrator, Dr. Serenus Zeitblum, plays the “viola d’amore,” and this is mentioned a number of times. While I can understand the symbolic importance of this (the narrator plays the “viola of love” and spends all his time pining for his beloved friend Adrian?) (i.e. the entire novel as a song played on the viola of love?), at the time period in question, this would have been an extremely obscure instrument for someone to learn. So the fact that Zeitblum plays this obscure, 18th-century instrument seems to be part of Mann’s strategy to deeply brand the narrator as a pedant. Zeitblum makes fun of himself for his job as a teacher of classics, not as a creative artist like his friend.

Having fought my way through Mann’s Magic Mountain years ago, I have to note that Mann loves to hear himself talk. It is not unusual for page after page after page to go by, while the characters speculate about philosophy or politics or the arts, and not much happens. And then, as the book gets closer to its conclusion, there is a flurry of activity that unfolds in a hurry, as though Mann suddenly remembered that a novel is supposed to have a plot, and he hasn’t really been providing one for a long time. Doctor Faustus has a similar arch: most of the action, including a a suicide, a murder, the horrible death of a child, and the complete mental breakdown of the main character, all occur in the final quarter of the novel.  

So then, what is this novel really about? A novel about novels? A modern updating of a medieval tale? An examination about the curious place of music in contemporary culture? I think the book is about how German culture, for all of its lofty, idealistic peaks, sold its soul to the devil of fascism in the period between the two World Wars. In return for some remarkable creative growth and power, the country’s creative individuals had to make a bargain with an ideology of horror. Indeed, the composer that I feel has the most in common with Adrian Leverkühn is not Arnold Schoenberg, but Richard Strauss, who found himself Hitler’s leader of music for the Third Reich. When the war ended, and American troupes arrived at Strauss’s country estate, Strauss invited them in, showed them around, and acted like nothing unusual had been happening for the last five or six years. After all, it was just music, after all, and some of his best friends were Jewish...

[segadores-y-soldados]

Thoughts on the new PTR Bios update

So I know people are kinda buzzing about some lore tidbits being dropped through the PTR and meh, just figured I’d write down some of my critical (and not-so-critical) thougs. Too Long; Didn’t Want to Read: I predicted like a solid percentage of some of the “new lore” (some of which...isn’t that new, actually), the rest has potential, but above all else I’m kinda mad because the new feature is REALLY sloppily implemented and just not great overall.

More under the cut.

Alright so just to get myself kinda organized here:

Things I predicted: 1) Amélie having been a professional ballerina.  @starsherit can actually attest to this because I went on a massive fucking rant about my Amélie love and interpretations like two weeks ago.

For those of you who read my fics, you know that I’ve provided “titles” to Reaper and Soldier (Segador and Soldado respectively, along with 127 and 76 as their SEP numbers).  Amélie’s title is “Soliste,” French for the ballet position of “soloist.” “In ballet, a soloist is a dancer in a ballet company above the corps de ballet but below principal dancer.”  It is easy for me to imagine that Amélie was working her way up to being a principal dancer or prima ballerina before Talon kidnapped her. 2) Sombra joining Los Muertos “for a price.” - this was heavily implied by her Origins video, actually.   “Now she understood how the world worked.” 3) Ana being called “Shrike” - the skin with the name “Shrike” is a direct reference to her bounty hunter get-up in the Old Soldiers comic, and Ana has been “wanted” for some time now (which is how Jack tracks her down). For those of you unaware, the bird species “Masked Shrikes” are a unique type of passerines which have tomial teeth - an adaptive trait that is shared with Falcons.  You can see where this is going.  Masked Shrikes also have part of their migrations in Egypt. Things that were new and noteworthy:

1) "At his first opporunity, a young Jack Morrison enlisted in the American Armed Forces to defend his country against the Omnic Crisis.” Now, this is an issue for a few reasons. A) THIS IS NOT WHAT JACK’S ORIGINAL LORE STATED: “At eighteen, Morrison packed his bags and joined the military. He had planned to serve a brief stint in the armed forces and then return home to the family farm, but his work ethic and courage caught the eye of the military brass. Before long, he earned a coveted position in the government's controversial and still-classified (but widely acknowledged) "soldier enhancement program." Military scientists shaped Morrison and other inductees into the perfect soldiers, blessed with superhuman speed, strength, and agility. Morrison and his fellow augmented soldiers would soon put their abilities to use with the advent of the Omnic Crisis.” In the new PTR update, Jack joined specifically to fight against the Crisis. In his old lore, Jack intended to join the military and eventually return home, but he was brought into the Supersoldier Enhancement Program and then eventually put to fight in the Crisis. So unless this part of the First Strike overhaul, this does subtly change some of Jack’s internal motivations. B) More fucking timeline problems. “The story goes that– [how do I do this? The math is a little weird] If the present day of “Overwatch”, is something like 60 years in the future then, “Whoot”, thirty years back from that point, there was a global crisis. And of course, it was robots, and robots are just bad for everybody.” Alright so basically, I took this quote to mean that the start of the Omnic Crisis was 30 years BACK from “present day” in the game/lore.  This is the loose number thrown around on like, Reinhardt’s bio, general dates, etc.  And the original lore left enough wiggle room that you could throw down whatever ages you wanted for Soldier and Reaper - they just had to be semi-trained military adults by the time of the Crisis.

But with this new lore we got a few options: Either the Crisis was a helluva lot LONGER than previously stated 

OR

Jack Morrison was REALLY, REALLY YOUNG when the Crisis started. Like...”the Crisis started when he was approximately 16 - 20″ kind of young.  If the old lore is still somewhat accurate, then Morrison was about 18 yo when the Crisis started. Which makes him like... 48 years old in-game (or approximately, if you wanna fudge that around a bit, be my guest). This makes him like, NOT REALLY THAT OLD. This also means he was probably THE YOUNGEST MEMBER OF THE STRIKE TEAM. HE WAS PRACTICALLY A CHILD.  Which leads me to: 2) Promotion? The Strike-Commander skin (well...technically the Daredevil skin because someone got careless somewhere) briefly mentions that Morrison was promoted to Strike-Commander after the Crisis.  Meanwhile, NONE OF REAPER’S SKINS even MENTION the promotion.  His Blackwatch Reyes skin simply states that he was the former Commander of Overwatch, and then later the commander of Blackwatch. Between this, the slight shifts in lore, the whole “we’re moving in a different direction” thing, and the fact that this promotion is like literally never talked about anywhere except for the “On the Trail” article (which is old at this point) leads me to really, really think that this “issue” of the promotion has been cutted or edited down in the lore.  The subject isn’t even talked about in Old Soldier, which is pretty much all there is for interactions between Soldier and Reaper. Just kinda...eh.

Besides the Widowmaker and Shrike stuff, as well as the Morrison lore stuff, I was honestly kinda blah about the update.  The vast majority of the characters have NOTHING new.  In fact, many of them have NOTHING noteworthy for their skins at all.  McCree, Mei, Winston, Tracer - characters who hypothetically have a FUCKTON of lore just waiting to be explored got nothing new.  Roadhog has two skins - Mako and Toa - that MUST be related to his background and heritage and yet there’s literally nothing on them.   I don’t know if this is meant to be deliberate (”we have all this info, we just aren’t ready to share it yet”) or if it’s just more mess, but it comes across as, well, more meh story-writing and handling.  The fact that Mercy doesn’t even have a character description, or putting the Strike-Commander blurb on Daredevil, or the fact that many characters have literally NOTHING “to say” about their skins just reads as carelessness.  All the “bad guys” in Junkenstein’s Revenge get blurbs but you can’t tell me about McCree being inspired by Eastwood or the Journey to the West skins?  There’s literally nothing special to say about Mako/Toa or Mariachi/Blanco or Luna/Chang’e?  Not even like “Mako grew up learning about his family’s heritage” or “Reyes used to play the guitar” or “Mei always loved the story of Chang’e”? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised but the sheer dearth of information for the majority of the characters irks me.  Some characters have “tons of blurbs” for their skins (which is how it SHOULD be - you spent all these times making these skins for your characters, Blizzard, and we would love to know more about the process behind them or what motivates a character for x skin or y mythology), but so many of them have literally nothing special. It’s a little disheartening to be honest.  I could have lived without knowing the Shimada bros’ father’s name in exchange for one blurb on McCree or Zenyatta or Mei or Roadhog.

[raggywaltz1954]

This is the big one.  The unicorn.  The white whale.  The record that woke the vinyl collector within me.  The search for this record took years, but this year the vinyl gods smiled on me, and I am now the owner of this rare bootleg album.  One of the reasons why I’ve been on the hunt for this album is because it’s only available on vinyl.  It was because of this and other rare Brubeck and Desmond music that’s only on vinyl that started me on the journey of record collecting.  Naturally, this record has a rather unconventional background.  But first…

The Music

Tune:  Two-part Contention

Recorded live 25 August, 1956 at Basin Street, New York City

Personnel:

Dave Brubeck-  Piano

Paul Desmond-  Alto Sax

Norman Bates-  Bass

Joe Dodge-  Drums

This album is a super bootleg album made up of at least two different radio broadcasts of Dave Brubeck performances, one from 1959 and the other from 1956.  Side one is a broadcast from a December 1959 Carnegie Hall performance featuring the Dave Brubeck Quartet with the New York Philharmonic, conducted by Leonard Bernstein.  They play “Dialogues for Jazz Combo and Orchestra” by Dave’s brother Howard.  The music was eventually recorded in the studio the next month and came out on the Columbia album ‘Bernstein Plays Brubeck Plays Bernstein’.  The liner notes to that album mention that there three Carnegie Hall performances of the work on December 10, 11, and 13, 1959, so this broadcast is from one of those dates.  By the sound of the music (stiff, tentative, with a few ‘mistakes’ compared to the studio album), I’d peg it closer to the December 10th date.  The preservation of this performance on record is a great historical document and it’s interesting to compare this with the official Columbia release, but I’m more excited and interested in the other side of the album.

The main reason why I wanted to find this album was for the music on the second side of the album.  The two tracks allegedly stem from a Basin Street club date on 25 August, 1956.  I say allegedly because the two tracks differ in sound quality, which makes me wonder if they’re from two separate dates.  Putting on my Sherlock hat (i.e. serious Googling), I discovered a very detailed schedule of the NBC radio show Monitor from the weekend of August 24-26, 1956.  Scheduled for late Saturday night, August 25 at 11pm Eastern Standard Time was live music from Dave Brubeck at Basin Street, in New York City.  I don’t know where the 25 August, 1956 date came from originally, but it looks like it’s accurate.

Dave Brubeck was frequently on Monitor during the mid-1950’s as well as other jazz shows on the radio, and a few of these live airchecks have turned up on bootleg CDs and records over the years, but nowhere near as many have surfaced as similar radio broadcasts from Miles Davis.  The few Brubeck radio broadcasts that have showed up typically have Paul Desmond and Brubeck in great form.  Live Brubeck is the best Brubeck, especially when it’s a club date.  This particular lineup provided Desmond and Brubeck with a solid foundation to really stretch out and play some tasty stuff, as Desmond does on the cut above.

‘Two-part Contention’ is a Brubeck original, being a play on words based off of Bach’s ‘Two-part Invention’.  The contention comes from the changing rhythms and soloists.  After some improvised counterpoint, Paul Desmond launches into his solo, followed by the slower section featuring Brubeck’s piano.  It’s the fast section after this that Desmond really shines.  He throws a lot of different quotes in his solo, including the melody of Gerry Mulligan’s ‘Limelight’, and Brubeck follows with a solo that references the old standard ‘I Get A Kick Out of You’, before concluding the performance at the twelve and a half-minute mark.  Joe Dodge’s drumming is simple, basic, but solid.  His successor, Joe Morello, had a much more powerful and noticeable presence on the drums, but I like Dodge’s drumming.  His occasional accents and spare playing (he only used a bass drum, snare, hi-hat, and two cymbals) are a welcome contrast to the many busy jazz drummers popular then and now.

Being a club date, there’s applause, rattling dishes, and the buzz of conversation, but it’s hardly intrusive.  Taken with the info above, it’s a great example of late-night jazz from a jazz club, as heard on somebody’s radio in 1956.  I wonder if people back in the 1950’s truly appreciated those days of radio when you could flip a switch and catch a club date from Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, Thelonious Monk, and the other jazz greats, with barely any commercials?  Those days surely aren’t coming back.

The Cover

College Jazz Collector Rating:  D+

It’s extremely basic, the cover is.  Of course it’s a bootleg, so the bar is already low.  We get treated to three stencil-like reproductions of a Brubeck photograph and an actual photograph of Leonard Bernstein himself, surrounded by a frame of… rope?  Flowery banner?  I’m not sure.  What’s up with the ‘stereo-mono’ up there, too?  The lack of any color all makes for bland cover, typical of a bootleg album.  It looks like it was made in someone’s basement.  More on that later.  The album came sealed in shrink-wrap (!), but still has signs of a rough life, including a tattered upper spine and bent edges.

The Back

This album takes minimalism to another level.  There’s absolutely nothing on the back of it.  Not a thing.  This is the only album I have that has a completely blank back.  It’s actually kind of neat.  The bootlegger provided all of the info on the front and felt that none was needed on the back, I suppose.

The Vinyl

The vinyl is extremely thin and flimsy, non-deep groove, but in mint condition.  The labels continue the trend of little information.  The info that is there is partially incorrect.  ‘Musical Montage’ as labeled on the cover and the label is completely false, and is in fact the musical work by Howard Brubeck entitled ‘Dialogues for Jazz Combo and Orchestra’, and the four different ‘musical montages’ are ‘Allegro’, ‘Andante-Ballad’, ‘Adagio-Ballad’, and ‘Allegro-Blues’.  The four movements aren’t separated on the record, instead lumped together as one big block of music as it’s performed on the record.  There were slight pauses between each movement, but the record presser didn’t bother to separate them.

The sound quality is amazingly clean for being taped off of the radio.  Despite the ‘stereo-mono’ label on the cover, the music on both sides of the record are in mono.

I did some research on the Ozone label, as I was unfamiliar with it, and was surprised to discover that this album was recorded by the legendary jazz bootlegger- I mean archivist- Boris Rose.  Boris Rose was a man from New York City that tirelessly captured live jazz performances of some of the greatest jazz musicians on his portable tape recorders, either by taking them illicitly into clubs (particularly Birdland) or taping radio broadcasts from his home.  During jazz’s golden era of the 1950’s and 60’s, Rose documented the jazz that came through New York and meticulously kept written records of the tapes he made.  He amassed quite an archive of valuable live music, and the whole operation was conducted in his basement.

Rose traded tapes between like-minded friends, and in the 1970’s began pressing some of his tapes to records and sold them in small quantities on a variety of made-up labels, such as Alto, Ozone and Session Disc.   Apparently he didn’t like serious record collectors and discographers (ironic given his meticulous record keeping) and consequently provided little or purposefully wrong information on his albums.

I found about Boris Rose before I bought this album though, through late-night internet searches for rare live jazz performances.  I always wondered if Rose had captured the Dave Brubeck Quartet on tape, and it looks like he did and that there’s possibly more.  An article from the Wall Street Journal about Rose has made the rounds on different websites, and it is in the spirit of Boris Rose that I bootleg a bootlegged article.  Bon appetit!

Wall Street Journal December 4, 2010

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704354704575651483072044218.html

Elaine Rose, daughter of famed jazz archivist Boris Rose, holds a portrait of her father in front of a small portion of his many master tape recordings from Birdland and a number of other New York jazz venues.

In a dark basement in a quiet residential neighborhood in the Bronx, a well-known archive of privately recorded live tapes and acetates is gathering dust and waiting for some institution to acquire it. The Boris Rose archive, named for the New Yorker who amassed it, is so capacious, in fact, that no one has even cataloged all of it and Elaine Rose, who has owned it since her father died 10 years ago, can’t even begin to guess how much it’s worth.

“This collection certainly deserves to be in a major institution, such as the Smithsonian, Library of Congress, or Institute of Jazz Studies—intact,” said John Hasse, the curator of American music at the Smithsonian Institution.

The collection contains everything from rare performances by modern jazz legends like Charlie Parker and John Coltrane to swing stars like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Mr. Rose’s own favorites, like Sidney Bechet and Eddie Condon. Ms. Rose is well aware of the need for finding a permanent repository; the acetates and the tapes are, she said, in delicate condition.

“It needs a home. I just can’t keep it in storage. I’m giving myself a time frame of six months to a year to do something with it,” she said.

Boris Rose (1918-2000) was one of those legendary characters who seem to proliferate in the world of jazz. He was tall, articulate, always very well groomed—and by all accounts an outrageous character. An inveterate prankster, he dreamed up a dizzying array of fake label names (including “Titania,” “Ambrosia,” “Caliban,” “Session Disc,” “Ozone” and “Chazzer Records”), many of which he tried to pass off as European imports. Most of his albums bore an address on the front, such as “A Product of Stockholm, Sweden.” But if you looked closely on the back, it would say something like “Manufactured in Madison, Wisconsin” in much smaller type.

The truth was that Mr. Rose produced them all from his brownstone on East 10th Street. He told me once that he took great delight in confounding collectors and discographers, whom he regarded as the bean counters of jazz.

“I always felt something about jazz,” Mr. Rose said in an undated interview with historian Dan Morgenstern that was taped for German television. “As far back as 1930, I listened to broadcasts from the Cotton Club. I heard Duke, I heard Don Redman, I heard Cab Callaway.”

During his years at City College, Mr. Rose practiced the c-melody saxophone but began to find his calling when he got a job at the MRM Music Shop on Nassau Street.

“As far back as 1940, I purchased a home [disc-cutter] recorder and I began to dub records,” he told Mr. Morgenstern. “For the next few years while I was in the Army, I was able to dub records for collectors who couldn’t find the originals.”

From there, he branched out to recording radio broadcasts and then live bands in clubs. “Getting out of the Army in 1946, I had professional equipment, and began to take down all of these jazz broadcasts,” he explained. “First on 16-inch acetate discs. Later on, when tape came into the picture, I was able to record on tape.”

Mr. Morgenstern remembers Mr. Rose as “a man who never sat down—he was always monitoring three or four tape recorders or disc-cutters at any given time.” For decades, Mr. Rose ran a thriving business, recording jazz wherever he could, then making and selling copies or trading them for rarer material.

He operated from 10th Street, but stored most of his original tapes and acetates in the basement of his house in the Bronx, where he raised his three daughters.

One of Rose’s tape recorders

It’s still fairly well-organized: Discs are mostly in one area; soundtracks are in one set of cabinets; 10-inch reels are in one spot and 7-inch reels in another. 78 RPM discs and LPs are all over the place. A thick layer of dust rests on top of everything, but considering the vastness of the collection, the few tapes I recently took out and examined seemed to be in good shape—though neither tape nor shellac will last forever.

Mr. Rose kept detailed notebooks of almost every recording he made. The trick, though, is to find the tape to match the written entry.

“We won’t know what’s in there—or what shape it’s in—until somebody wants it,” Ms. Rose said.

The centerpiece of the Rose archive is the Birdland Collection: Mr. Rose recorded virtually every band that played this most legendary of jazz joints, either directly off the airwaves or by smuggling a concealed tape recorder into the club.

Over time he amassed a spectacular library of modern jazz from the glory years—the 1950s. His friends found this amazing since he rarely listened to the stuff himself; his own tastes ran to Louis Armstrong and Kid Ory. Still, he documented an entire era of music, the great majority of which hasn’t been heard in 60 years.

Around 1970, Mr. Rose’s business entered a new phase when he began using some of his material for mass-produced LPs that were distributed internationally, generally bearing amateur-looking artwork and misleading information. According to friend and researcher Arthur Zimmerman, Mr. Rose rarely if ever bothered to negotiate with the actual musicians or pay mechanical royalties for the compositions (with the exception of several country albums by Gene Autry, after the singing cowboy’s lawyers got in touch). He sold Charlie Parker and Billie Holiday material to ESP Records, and a famous double-LP set of Parker at Birdland to Columbia Records.

In the end, Mr. Rose released hundreds of albums, under dozens of label names, up through the mid-’80s. When compact discs took over, he gradually lost interest. In the ’90s, he made it known that the archive was for sale, but kept raising the price whenever anybody expressed interest.

“He left it to me so I could have an income,” said Elaine Rose. “His words to me were, ‘Make money with it.’ But it’s a whole different era now.”

That was in 2010.  I’ve tried to find out what happened in the seven years since, but haven’t found a thing.  I sure hope somebody with more money than me takes interest in it.

The Place of Acquisition

Good old eBay.  After an almost six-year search, I found this album for sale online as ‘Buy Now’ for $20, sealed and in mint condition.  It’s only shown up once on Discogs since 2011, and I barely missed a sale on eBay last year.  Good things come to those that wait.  Like the other rare Brubeck bootleg album, I clicked ‘Buy Now’ quick, and in a week I was the proud owner of this album, probably one of the rarest if not the rarest album in my collection.  A search on Popsike only turned up one result, and that was my own purchase on eBay.  Despite its rarity, it doesn’t seem to go for much.  A sale on Discogs ended at $10.00 and some change.  Either the people selling it don’t realize it’s worth or it’s really just not that valuable.  Any thoughts and comments would be appreciated!

Dave Brubeck, Leonard Bernstein, Dialogue For Jazz Combo & Orchestra // Ozone (Ozone 14) This is the big one.  The unicorn.  The white whale.  The record that woke the vinyl collector within me.  

[fashiontrendin-blog]

A Day in the Life of the Glamorous New York City Rockettes

http://fashion-trendin.com/a-day-in-the-life-of-the-glamorous-new-york-city-rockettes/

A Day in the Life of the Glamorous New York City Rockettes

The Rockettes’ dressing room had the power to break my heart. Had it not been perfect, had it fallen short of my expectations in the slightest, I might have crumbled into a fit, like a child learning the truth about Santa in a toy store. So thank god it far exceeds them: maroon velvet reindeer costumes are hanging on a rack; lit-up vanities have makeup scattered across the desks, just like in the movies; photos of families and loved ones are framed and propped up on each desk; pop music is playing from a portable speaker; the unmistakable smell of Jergens’ Natural Glow gradual self-tanner perfumes the air. Two Rockettes sit on the floor. One flips through a magazine while the other stretches her calves. The rest are painting their faces in a leisurely manner. There’s still time to relax — at least an hour before their first show of the day.

They are all so glamorous in their hair and makeup that I bet grandparents — theirs or not — make jokes like, “Here comes Miss America!,” when they enter the room. And they are so nice that if someone told me that they once won Miss America as a group because the judges just couldn’t decide, I’d believe it. I feel like I’m inside the mind of someone writing a musical about a dancing all-American sorority, and I’m half-expecting the women of Delta Gamma Rockette to break out in song.

They do not, but you can only have so many wishes fulfilled in a day.

I am here to get a behind-the-scenes peek into the daily life of a Rockette. Natalie Reid, a 31-year-old Rockette of seven years, Peter Pan to my note-taking shadow, has agreed to let me trail her for the morning and afternoon. I meet her in the cast’s modest gym at the Radio City Music Hall. She warms up there while we chat, and I get some background.

Christine Sienicki and Melissa Hillmer.

She grew up in Sammamish, Washington and went to college at Chapman University in Orange, California. She danced for the Odyssey Dance Theatre in Salt Lake City, Utah before she auditioned to be a Rockette. (It was during that grueling process where she first performed the iconic high kick.) While showing me the room where they rehearse, Natalie reenacts the very moment she found out she’d made the cut — that she was going to be a Rockette. She does so with such enthusiasm that I feel like I made it, too. “I knew my life was going to change,” she says, “but I didn’t think this much.” She moved to New York in time to rehearse for her first season, and from there, as with so many professional athletes, her life became something of a dedication to her team.

Natalie Reid and Jackie Aitken.

Six weeks before the Rockettes’ season opens in November, the women rehearse for six hours a day, six days a week. When they’re off-season, some teach dance, some work in sales; one is a CPA. The Rockettes themselves are 80 women total, split into two casts of Blue and Gold. 36 women perform on stage at a time, the remaining four in full hair and makeup, ready to go on in an emergency. (These four women are called “swings.”)

In season, the Blue and Gold casts will clock 200 shows combined over the course of seven and a half weeks (approximately 100 per cast), including standard US holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. On weekdays, both casts do anywhere from two to four shows each on weekdays. They split Saturday’s six shows, three and three. None of this includes special performances: in-season, in addition to the Great Stage at Radio City Music Hall, the Rockettes make appearances on live TV and on the streets, like at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and Rockefeller Center Tree Lighting. Off season, they dance at sporting events for big, one-off moments like the NBA All Star Game and the MLB Home Run Derby. This year, they performed at a Washington National’s game as part of a USO affiliation. This past June, they performed at the Tony Awards, and they’ve been on America’s Got Talent a few times, once with Pitbull. For some reason I love that last fact.

Most impressive to me is how much they still enjoy one another despite so much time spent in close contact. While they don’t exactly roll 80 women deep to their local midtown bar, groups have organically formed within the massive crew, and they’ll hang out after work, go on double dates and have Christmas dinner together. For The Rockettes, this consistent sisterhood is not just something you learn to get comfortable with; it’s a mindset.

“The beauty of this job, and I think why so many women stay here so long,” says Natalie (in her seventh year, she is still considered “new” in comparison to some of the truly tenured dancers*), “is that there’s a lot of opportunities in the professional dance world to be a soloist, but this is all about being one with 36 women as you move across the stage. You’re doing all of this with your best friends, and making magic.”

*Currently, the longest-tenured Rockette (who dances “on the line” right now) has been a Rockette for 17 seasons.

Jackie Aitken and Natalie Reid.

Jackie Aitken, Melissa Hillmer, Natalie Reid, Logan Reginato and Christine Sienicki.

Everyone loves The Rockettes. I feel comfortable making such a sweeping statement because everyone I told about this story told me so with hands clutched to their hearts. Natalie tells me Jimmy Fallon said, “I love you guys!” as they passed one another during practice for the Thanksgiving Parade. At the Tony Awards where they performed before a crowd of Broadway legends, Natalie says people who they ran into them backstage kept saying the same thing. There’s a nostalgia factor, she explains when I ask her why she thinks people have such strong reactions. Everyone seems to have some connection to the show: a parent brought them when they were young, it was the first show they ever saw in New York City, their grandmother used to play pool with one.

Pretty soon, it’s time for Natalie to get ready, and time for me to find my seat. As I walk through the lobby, I realize there’s just something nice about the Rockettes, something warm and fuzzy and wholesome. It’s as though, when you buy a ticket to see the Christmas Spectacular Starring the Radio City Rockettes, as is the show’s formal title, you’re setting an intention to have The Best Day Ever. Even on a weekday, everyone in the lobby is dressed up and festive. Everyone wants to have a good time, to be cheerful, to be with family.

I, meanwhile, am alone — a weird decision, I realize a little too late, given my propensity to nudge and squeeze anyone within grabbing distance when I’m excited. Luckily, my seat mates clap and gasp a lot during the show, which I find comforting.

The show itself, a variety of performances that includes non-Rockettes dance ensembles, is a spectacle. Sometimes it feels like Tim-Allen-as-Santa Claus directed it, not in a bad way! Pairs of 3-D glasses, doled out at ticketing, make Santa’s sleigh fly through the audience, and I’m not going to lie to you: 3-D anything thrills me.

There is a sweet story woven throughout about two brothers, and there’s some dancing bears that I’d have fast-forwarded through; I was feeling Rockette-greedy.

Christine Sienicki, Logan Reginato, Natalie Reid, Melissa Hillmer, and Jackie Aitken.

At the end, the birth of Jesus is reenacted on stage with surprisingly elaborate costumes — plus real live camels, of which there are three, all of whom are stabled somewhere in Radio City Music Hall for the season. (Yes, I have several questions about that and yes, I forgot to ask. But I met them! Camels are so cute in person.) At times, the show felt like something from another decade. And in fact, it is: Per a press sheet, both “the Living Nativity” and “Parade of the Wooden Soldiers” scenes have been “part of Radio City’s holiday tradition since they were first performed on the Great Stage in 1933.”

Jackie Aitken, Melissa Hillmer and Natalie Reid.

Sometimes, during certain Decembers — if it’s too warm or I’m too stressed — I get nervous it doesn’t feel like the holidays. If that worry was beginning to creep into my brain before I walked in today, the Rockettes charmed it out of me. There really is something captivating about them: the way they move as one, as Natalie described; the way their famous high kicks hit the sky in perfect unison.

When the toy cannon explodes and the soldiers fall like Dominos in slow motion, the entire crowd goes WILD. For some reason, I find myself a little emotional. Amid a pretty tumultuous year, something about the rare moment of harmony on stage, the sense of New York tradition and the palpable joy among the audience must have gotten in my eye.

After the show, I go backstage to meet back up with Natalie. The crew of approximately 100 unseen people, from electricians to the camel wrangler to those who work on wardrobe, mill about with purpose to wrap the performance that ended and prepare for the next one in only a few hours. It’s all just as precise and choreographed here as it is on stage. Natalie’s still in her last costume, looking as put-together as ever, her rising and falling sternum the only giveaway that she just performed eight dance numbers and had eight costume changes. She is a pro. After this, she plans to run home to greet her mom, who just arrived in town, to see her boyfriend, walk her dog, then return back for another show.

I ask her for one showbiz secret before we say our goodbyes — something the audience can’t see. As tours and family friends begin to flood in, adding even more moving parts to the ant farm of an operation, she tells me that everyone assumes the Rockettes place their arms on one another’s backs during the high kicks for balance; it isn’t so. “We stand side by side but we never touch.” To her, it’s the perfect metaphor for being on the team: “As a Rockette, you’re doing everything on your own, but still responsible for the whole. You’re all together. One line.”

It’s almost a metaphor for humanity, I think to myself, in a moment of Rockette-fueled romanticism after a day spent inside a snow globe.

Two weeks later, I’ll find the 3-D glasses in my coat pocket. It will be the first of December, and it will feel like the holidays this year.

Photos by Edith Young; Styling by Harling Ross.

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[martinlawless]

Maldon Road Race

Regional B Road Race, Cat 3-4, Sunday 7 October 2018

Maldon is miles away. This race is further on, and deep into the Dengie Peninsula. It’s rolling terrain, not unlike Hertfordshire. It’s so far to the coast, you can see the expansive Thames estuary full of little boats at the peak of the course. It turns out this is the last Eastern Road Race League Regional B... ‘Reggie B’… event in the calendar, as the flat all-out race in Kings Lynn in Norfolk that was supposed to follow got cancelled.

This race is on the same day as Ashwell’s cyclo-cross race event and I feel bad that I’m not there to help or represent the club. But as it’s the last road race of the season I need 4 points - a 7th place or higher - to achieve 2nd Category status. So needs must! It’s a big ask. 57 riders, including ones I know who are in superb form.

This race would be different to my other local road races as we had a team. Dave was here. Though he was still pretty banjaxed by his virus. Steve was back for more to build on his 15th place at last week’s race over at Great Barford. And Alastair joined the ranks to help the team, flex his strength in a different way from his amazing feats on the Etape du Tour and Haute Route and - I suspect - get on with quickly getting to 3rd Cat and beyond.

It’s a long drive down with the heating on full blast to melt the ice off the windscreen. Chilly. I’m mostly skipping caffeine and high sugar drinks like beetroot juice at the moment. So it’s porridge, apples, bananas and Heart FM acting like some pacifier to calm the nerves.

I arrive and park up to meet Steve’s Ashwell battle-bus with my three team mates inside. As I approach, Dave presents me with fresh coffee and Steve is oiling up his legs in the back. It’s not quite the Sky team bus, but if he had installed a big screen at the front, and I’d put on a pair of ‘Dave Brailsford glasses’ on and waved a jiffy bag around, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

I get kitted up in the bright, fresh sunshine. As I ponder on whether to go long socks or short, and whether the new sunglasses match my Kask Mojito helmet, I sigh that I’ve gone ‘well roadie’ and am a million miles away from the cycle-cross scene going on at this moment with its blood, guts and muddy thunder. The high-white of my socks mismatches the off-white of my shoes. It troubles me.

We collect our numbers. Alastair signed on as reserve but easily gets a place. Ahead of a 10-minutes twiddle on the rollers to warm up, we chat about plans. Dave’s plan is to beat the virus and hold on. I say to Alastair and Steve that any friendly wheel at any point in the race is welcome and if either of them fancy a bunch sprint, give me a sign just before and see if I can catch their draft. Alastair is up for the experience and to pounce on an opportunity. Steve I think is honing in on a big result soon. Other than that: we all agree to let’s just enjoy this one.

There doesn’t appear to be any teams on the start sheet out in force. So the guess is that this will be another bunch dominated race with nothing too tactical going on.

We set off - eventually - having had to wait for the Regional A 2/3/4 race to pass so we don’t clash. Nearly half an hour after being called together, everyone’s warming-up is undone and some skinny riders are shivering. But we get underway and after what seems like a long neutralised start behind the lead car, we get to racing speed and we are definitely warm then.

The course is quite technical in parts. The roads are often tight. There are some big twists and turns too. But there’s no significant hill. Each of the four laps had a rhythm. Long fast TT-style eastern run. Single file. Warp Factor 9. Twisty-tight northern lanes into a headwind. Gently descending western blast, that was essentially a breather. Then more twists and turns south on a narrow lane. 4.5 laps. 47 miles.

I found the start hard. Partly through the waking up cold legs. Partly out of sheer lack of max power. I do what I can to stay top 10 or so and not get caught up with weaker riders behind. It’s clear from the off that Steve and Alastair are on a different wattage plane. They are bouncing around the very front effortlessly and it’s pleasing to watch, whilst gasping several places back.  

There are sustained attempts to break off the front by all sorts of riders in mixed teams. But it’s pretty clear none will stick as the bunch are having none of it. Alastair and Steve do more than their fair share of work to break things down here whilst watching and plotting for opportunities to break away themselves. I simply can’t play that strategy and stick in the bunch. I just watch out for a big break which I vow to make an effort to tag on to if it happens, but a smaller one would be too much for me and I have to let them go.

Hiding away as I am, I do find myself on the front for a minute or two after Steve encourages me to break out of the pack to free him up from a tight peloton position. He asks me to chase down a big fella who had a fondness for mad wattage-bazooka bursts off the front. I recall this bloke from previous races. There ain’t nothing tactical about it. He just loves doing it. Following his speeding wheel I find myself right on the nose of the bunch chasing him down. I pretend I do 26mph into a headwind for fun, before breakfast, for about 30 seconds and then apply a burst of power before sliding over to let the riders behind destroy the soloist’s impossible break.

There’s a new sensation in the bunch, while riding with team mates. There’s a bit of a forcefield around us. In part, because we seek each other out, in part because I think the bunch respect team mates desire to position together. There may be something about increased confidence too. I’m not sure. Anyway, it’s good to be able to chat and suss out the situation as we pelt along. ‘We’re only doing 100 watts!’ complains Alastair as the peloton drifts asleep a bit. I chortle to myself and reckon that Al and Steve are probably breakaway specialists and it’s where they’ll get their best results. Later on in the next lap, Steve crests the high point of the course with five other riders and they turn a gap into a break. Now it’s getting interesting.

Instinctively, Al and I assume the roles of breakaway management in the pack. Al being way more capable than me. As Steve extends the gap from the bunch, Al and I work to breakdown any chasing. It’s win-win: we either help Steve escape, or else Al and I enjoy saving energy by being out of any challenge to the break if it’s bridged.

The break almost works. It stays away for nearly a lap, but in the fast TT-section, it’s undone and we meet Steve again. I pat him on the back for a good go at it and hope his legs are not spent for the rest of the race.

As expected, the collapse of one break brings instant opportunity for fresh legs to immediately spark a new break attempt. There’s a bit of bustling up front. I watch as several riders seem to form a string ahead. It’s not unnoticed by Alastair and I tell him what he’s thinking: that there could be a second break and he should go for it. From several places back in the bunch, he jumps to the top as effortlessly as pressing a button in a lift. I can only watch in the bunch. More hiding, more energy conservation.

This break doesn’t quite work out. Al reckons there were too many in the group and the abilities were mixed. It’s hauled in and we’re back all together again as the bell lap is rung. Third gel, swig of juice and here we go.

This final lap sees valiant attempts to create a last minute break, but no attempt is realistic. We get to the final third of the lap and a familiar sensation takes over my legs. It feels similar to cramp. But it’s nerves. My legs feel like blocks of wood and turning the pedals feels alien. I stay around the top 10-15 riders all the same. Then, out of the blue, Steve absolutely flies by and beyond the bunch. It’s the most impressive application of power so late in the race. My nerves are dispelled as Al and I leap into the imminent shelter of opposing riders’ wheels, hustling to stop this solo break. Of course, Steve is hauled in. But it was a brave move and really helped his team mates.

We turn and face the final hill before the finish. We all take this fairly steadily, considering. We are spreading across both lanes now. So everyone is a little on edge. We get to the top and the speed begins to crank up. There’s less than 1.5 miles to go.

It’s getting faster and faster. We are now wide across both lanes of traffic and there’s a strong diagonal echelon all across the road heading towards the 90 degree turn off the usual lap, for a 300 metre dash for the line on a slight uphill road.

I’m behind the main thrust of the wedge of riders, that contains Al and Steve. And there’s no way through. There’s a mile to go. I recall a similar position in the King’s Lynn race last year and drop right out of the back of the galloping echelon and go all the way to the furthest right side of the road. Sure enough, there’s a small gap close to the verge. It’s tight but there’s no other way forward. I’m conscious that the need to be up front on the left turn is everything here, so there’s no dilly-dallying. I give it beans to get through the gap along with two others. Then there’s a huge slice of luck. A transit van appears, coming in the other direction. It instantly changes the shape of the peloton as they tighten up into one lane. For many riders, it’s all over for them. They’ll be way back. If I had waited a few more seconds, I’d be around 30th and out of the running. As it is, I’ve launched myself just in front of the menacing peloton. There’s another slice of luck: one of the other riders who broke out with me chooses to ‘go long’ and TT it off the front. So, he’s leading the way, I’m behind his wheel and the echelon is right on top of us both.

I have to play with the situation I’ve been given. We pass the lonely house I’d marked out as the 20 seconds before the left turn point. I yell at the rider in front to keep going and not to drop his pace. I glance back at the peloton and I pretend that I’m saving myself for a big sprint and waiting for them to blink first to fool the bunch that I’m poised to go even faster - all in an attempt to stop them sprinting for as long as possible. I need to make that corner in a top position. I glance down at the speedo and see we’re at 32mph and figure we’ll be at the corner sooner than I thought so feel confident I can hold this pace having done some similar sprint work at Welwyn Wheelers’ excellent road racing coaching sessions.

Amazingly, the corner comes into view and me and the TTing guy in front have kept our places. I’m also in a perfect line to take the corner. As we approach it, sprinters at last break out of the echelon and swing by to my right. But then there’s another slice of luck: they all follow a bad line and underestimate the turn. One guy rides into the verge, and several others brake hard. Their race is over. I’ve not touched my brakes on the turn and am able to smoothly assume a low, aggressive position in the drops for the last 300 metres.

A few get around me, but I pass some of them again in the sprint. I am super aware this is a golden chance and that it’s now or never. The TTing guy in front goes pop spectacularly. I think he underestimated the dash for the line. I pass him, find another wheel, draft and pass him too and suddenly find myself with just three riders in front of me with just a few seconds to the line. I’m gaining on them, so I know I’m doing OK. And I can’t hear the whoosh of carbon wheels on my heels. I go over the line and raise my hand in celebration. 4th place. 8 points. I’d smashed my target.

Alastair is right behind me and first to congratulate me. I’m dizzy with everything. But very quickly notice Steve’s not around. We cycle back down the course. Al says he saw a big crash in the corner of his eye. ‘One of yours is in the brambles, mate’ says a rider, and hooking up with Dave, we three quickly dash back to the corner.

Steve’s already with a medic when we get there. He hit a really poor part of the road at officially recorded 30mph which sent him and another rider flying into the ditch. His legs are like Johnny Hoogerland’s, ripped to bits by brambles. He’s holding an ice pack on his elbow and his back is sore and shirt ripped. The marshal is incredulous about the incident, insisting Steve flew 10ft into the air and that he’d never seen anything like it. Another rider hit the deck too and cracked his helmet. But, Steve seems fine in himself and things could have been much worse. We note the irony that Steve really animated the race the most today and he was the last person to deserve a crash, DNF and not get a result.

It’s eventually back to the HQ. Steve gets further treatment. He’s going to be all right - all things considered.  I get my 4th place prize money. Alastair gets a prize as highest 4th Cat rider, 12th. And we head off home. Dave had to pull up half way, his heart rate telling him he’s still poorly.

So it’s 2nd Cat for me next season. I’ll really miss Regional B road races, underlined as I think there’s a bit of newly found Ashwell road-racing momentum coming through. I’ll have to see if the others can get to Cat 2 as well and we can do more team-based objectives in racing. Or I wait a year and get demoted back to 3rd Cat!

Accruing points started back in December. 11 months of racing. I did it using the Ashwell ‘half-rice half-chips’ method of mixing Road and Grass Track. 24 points on the Road. 20 on Grass Track.

I am toying with a focus on 2019 being less about points, and more about individual placings in certain Masters events: Tour of Malta and things like that. But for now, I’m not putting a number on my back for a while and not worrying about that.

Thanks to everyone who has ridden, helped, cheered me on and motivated me to getting to this achievement that seemed utterly remote not so long ago. Cheers.

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/1889706216