When I casually stated the other day that the French horn was the most beautiful instrument ever, my friend argued, “No it’s the harp – you can put a mermaid on it.” Funny story, but I was actually talking about the horn’s sound.
Obviously, everyone has a different idea of what sounds beautiful. As a musician who grew up listening to and performing classical music, I’d like to call attention to the horn’s glorious power of expression.
Whenever someone suggests we play a game, my first instinct is to groan internally. I like games, but I place unbearable pressure on myself to win everything from checkers to flag football to video games. Every time I compete, I risk the humiliation of losing.
So I can’t imagine the pain of athletes who lose their events in the Olympic Games after training so intensely for four years. They sacrifice time and energy to perfect their game, only to miss their shot at glory. The media walks away with an image of them wringing their hands (if NBC decides to show them at all). The message is clear: winning matters a lot. And the winners make winning seem easy. I like to imagine myself on top of the Olympic podium, but fail to include in my fantasy the endless practice hours and gruesome injuries that accompany every elite athlete.
Fear motivated me to write this article. Last month, I decided to weigh in on a controversial issue, then chickened out before I could publish the post. I had too many doubts. Was I mature enough to handle this topic? Did I get the nuances right? Did I have counterarguments for every possible counterargument to my arguments?
People who weigh in on controversial topics can legitimately be in danger. I’ve seen how a slight misstep in wording or intention could attract a horde of angry, even violent commenters. I’ve underestimated the bravery of all the writers who spoke brutal truths online.
July 31st is Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling’s birthday. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve read all seven Harry Potter books, which is a yearly summer tradition for me.
I grew up with Harry Potter. I was too young to appreciate the first few books when they were published, but by the time Goblet of Fire hit the Costco bookshelves, I was a huge Potter fan. And unlike the Simpsons, the Harry Potter characters gradually shed their childish voices as they go through puberty and mature into adults.
I tried to drum up enthusiasm for a variety of topics for this post – “elephants,” “elevators,” “earth” – in an attempt to avoid the one topic I knew I must write about. But I succumbed to “eczema,” as I always do. It’s a personal and embarrassing topic for me, but one that I need to talk about.
My brother and I grew up in America, but our Taiwanese-born parents still refer to our family trips to Taiwan as “returning to the motherland.” Our relatives there welcome us back with open arms every time. Just last month, we flew back to Taipei to attend my cousin’s wedding.