(Adapted from a tale that's been making the rounds on the net recently.)
The Mayonnaise Jar and Two Pints of Guinness
One black and rainy night at O'Brienmacgillirhallaighviobhran's Pub, just off the main alley in Ballyfeckit, the barkeep stood behind her counter wiping drool from under the chins of the local session musicians. One of them moaned about playing the same old tunes all the time. Another complained that there were too many new tunes to learn. Another said the chairs were uncomfortable, and yet another whinged about the noisy punters. They all cursed the racket from the telly.
The barkeep slammed her hand on the counter to wake them out of their rancorous stupor and then pulled a large empty mayonnaise jar from behind the bar. She filled it with pickled pig's feet. The musicians lifted their heads, curious what was afoot. The barkeep asked the players if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
The winsome barkeep then produced a bottle of green olives and poured them into the jar. She shook the jar lightly. The olives rolled into the open areas between the pig's feet. She then asked the sodden musicians again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.
The wise and benevolent barkeep next lifted a box of salt from behind the counter and poured it into the jar. Of course, the salt filled up the remaining empty space. She asked once more if the jar was full. The musicians were starting to get an inkling of a pattern, but they responded with a unanimous "yes."
Like a magician, the barkeep then produced two perfectly poured pints of Guinness from under the table and dumped the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the salt. The musicians laughed at first, then wept. "What a feckin' waste of Guinness!" they cried.
"Now, now" said the barkeep, dabbing at their tears, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your session. The pig's feet are the important things---your friends here who share tunes with you, your years of playing together, your vast collective store of tunes and songs, your health (such as it is, being musicians after all), your musical abilities, your friends who come to listen---and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your session would still be fulfilling."
"The olives are the other things that matter, like your instruments, the cases that protect them, and this cozy room to play in."
She gave the ragamuffin musicians a knowing glance, and then continued. "The salt is everything else---the small stuff. All the little things we worry about—'If I make a mistake, they'll think I suck'’ 'Is my A at pitch?' 'When do I get to play my tunes?' 'Why did so-and-so just shoot me that odd look?'"
"If you put the salt into the jar first, there is no room for the olives or the pig's feet. The same goes for your session. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Take care of the pig’s feet first---the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just salt."
One of the musicians raised her hand and asked, “Okay, you've told us what the pig's feet, olives, and salt represent, but what about the Guinness?" The barkeep flashed her flawless white smile and said, "I'm glad you asked."
"The Guinness just shows you that no matter how full your session circle may seem, and how briney your mates may smell, there's always room for a couple of pints with a friend."
Great parable! Just got here and it looks like I might just have to stay a while!
Cheers!
(Barkeep, another round of Guinness for my mates here... they look a bit partched...)
Also, we once hung a parabolic disc over our session. The room's acoustics weren't the best, so someone volunteered their old (huge) satellite tv dish. We rigged a pulley and cable system to raise and lower the thing. Placed just above our heads, it did reflect the sound, but only in a direct line--I could hear the person sitting directly opposite me in the circle, but not the person next to me.
Other bar patrons complained about the change in their decor (this was in an old garage that had been renovated into a micro-brewery, so was industrial to begin with). So we took it down. An acoustic engineer told us we should have hung it upside down, but then the sound would've ricocheted all over the room....
I have a beard and glasses, used to wear a white coat in my old job, many years ago. But I must be 5000 miles from the North English Feline.
I actually knew a number of scientists who were interested in various aspects of traditional music. It's not mutually exclusive, although the percentages are not high.
Sorry jig, the group of us what hung the satellite dish over the session were more like Dr. Evil aiming his death ray from above. The guy whose idea it was is a certified blaster (explosives expert). Well, you get the idea--it wasn't exactly a white-coat affair.
A Session Parable
A Session Parable
(Adapted from a tale that's been making the rounds on the net recently.)
The Mayonnaise Jar and Two Pints of Guinness
One black and rainy night at O'Brienmacgillirhallaighviobhran's Pub, just off the main alley in Ballyfeckit, the barkeep stood behind her counter wiping drool from under the chins of the local session musicians. One of them moaned about playing the same old tunes all the time. Another complained that there were too many new tunes to learn. Another said the chairs were uncomfortable, and yet another whinged about the noisy punters. They all cursed the racket from the telly.
The barkeep slammed her hand on the counter to wake them out of their rancorous stupor and then pulled a large empty mayonnaise jar from behind the bar. She filled it with pickled pig's feet. The musicians lifted their heads, curious what was afoot. The barkeep asked the players if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
The winsome barkeep then produced a bottle of green olives and poured them into the jar. She shook the jar lightly. The olives rolled into the open areas between the pig's feet. She then asked the sodden musicians again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.
The wise and benevolent barkeep next lifted a box of salt from behind the counter and poured it into the jar. Of course, the salt filled up the remaining empty space. She asked once more if the jar was full. The musicians were starting to get an inkling of a pattern, but they responded with a unanimous "yes."
Like a magician, the barkeep then produced two perfectly poured pints of Guinness from under the table and dumped the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the salt. The musicians laughed at first, then wept. "What a feckin' waste of Guinness!" they cried.
"Now, now" said the barkeep, dabbing at their tears, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your session. The pig's feet are the important things---your friends here who share tunes with you, your years of playing together, your vast collective store of tunes and songs, your health (such as it is, being musicians after all), your musical abilities, your friends who come to listen---and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your session would still be fulfilling."
"The olives are the other things that matter, like your instruments, the cases that protect them, and this cozy room to play in."
She gave the ragamuffin musicians a knowing glance, and then continued. "The salt is everything else---the small stuff. All the little things we worry about—'If I make a mistake, they'll think I suck'’ 'Is my A at pitch?' 'When do I get to play my tunes?' 'Why did so-and-so just shoot me that odd look?'"
"If you put the salt into the jar first, there is no room for the olives or the pig's feet. The same goes for your session. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Take care of the pig’s feet first---the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just salt."
One of the musicians raised her hand and asked, “Okay, you've told us what the pig's feet, olives, and salt represent, but what about the Guinness?" The barkeep flashed her flawless white smile and said, "I'm glad you asked."
"The Guinness just shows you that no matter how full your session circle may seem, and how briney your mates may smell, there's always room for a couple of pints with a friend."
# Posted on October 22nd 2007 by Will CPT
Re: A Session Parable
Lovely. Now I feel all warm and fuzzy, and can go and focus on learning some tunes.
# Posted on October 22nd 2007 by oldstrings
Re: A Session Parable
Good on you, oldstrings. I'm off to share some tunes and pints with another fiddler.
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by Will CPT
Re: A Session Parable
Hmmm, trotters, olives, way way too much salt, and two pints of guiness. I'm sorry Will, but all I'm getting is the gag reflex.
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by llig leahcim
Re: A Session Parable
LOL.
When life hands you pig's feet, green olives, salt, and Guinness, make lemonade?
Urp....
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by Will CPT
Re: A Session Parable
nice one tat. i will remember that one. lovely.
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by jig
Re: A Session Parable
hahahahahahaha, good points Will.
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by rob_handel
Re: A Session Parable
Eisbein -- yuck. I thought only German people were lame enough to eat that muck.
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by cathrynb
Re: A Session Parable
I think that this is a re-working of an old Sufi parable,c.f. Idris Shaw.
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by dafydd
Re: A Session Parable
Idris Shah of course.He isn't Irish.
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by dafydd
Re: A Session Parable
Is it time for our group hug now?
# Posted on October 23rd 2007 by AlBrown
Re: A Session Parable
Idris Shah was a cousin of George Bernard, I'll go bail
Dan
# Posted on October 24th 2007 by curamach
Re: A Session Parable
LOL.
# Posted on October 24th 2007 by Will CPT
Re: A Session Parable
Great parable! Just got here and it looks like I might just have to stay a while!
Cheers!
(Barkeep, another round of Guinness for my mates here... they look a bit partched...)
# Posted on October 24th 2007 by lvjmusic
A Session Parabola...
....is what you get when a pick or a tipper goes flying across the room or somebody throws a tomato.
# Posted on October 24th 2007 by granama
Re: A Session Parable
....or if you slice a pint glass at a particular angle.
# Posted on October 24th 2007 by granama
Re: A Session Parable
Heh, at our session, we sit in two conjoined parabolas (the table in the middle is rectangular, so we arc around either side).
# Posted on October 24th 2007 by Will CPT
Re: A Session Parable
Also, we once hung a parabolic disc over our session. The room's acoustics weren't the best, so someone volunteered their old (huge) satellite tv dish. We rigged a pulley and cable system to raise and lower the thing. Placed just above our heads, it did reflect the sound, but only in a direct line--I could hear the person sitting directly opposite me in the circle, but not the person next to me.
Other bar patrons complained about the change in their decor (this was in an old garage that had been renovated into a micro-brewery, so was industrial to begin with). So we took it down. An acoustic engineer told us we should have hung it upside down, but then the sound would've ricocheted all over the room....
# Posted on October 24th 2007 by Will CPT
Re: A Session Parable
I have a picture in my mind here,............ do any of you have big beards and glasses? you know, white jackets, Geiger counters etc.
# Posted on October 24th 2007 by jig
Re: A Session Parable
I have a beard and glasses, used to wear a white coat in my old job, many years ago. But I must be 5000 miles from the North English Feline.
I actually knew a number of scientists who were interested in various aspects of traditional music. It's not mutually exclusive, although the percentages are not high.
# Posted on October 25th 2007 by Guernsey Pete
Re: A Session Parable
Sorry jig, the group of us what hung the satellite dish over the session were more like Dr. Evil aiming his death ray from above. The guy whose idea it was is a certified blaster (explosives expert). Well, you get the idea--it wasn't exactly a white-coat affair.
# Posted on October 25th 2007 by Will CPT
Re: A Session Parable
I have a big beard and glasses, but I only *wear* the beard. The glasses are strictly for drinking out of.
# Posted on October 25th 2007 by granama