365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 31

THURSDAY, JANUARY 31st, 2013

Amazingly, one full month of our Jazz Hands journey is in the books.  

You ever find yourself hating your favorite show for airing a montage episode full of highlights and passing it off as new content?  Me too.  It's a cop out.

I could totally talk about our first month's highlights, like when we started out this daily ritual on the road, in the Florida Keys giving myself Jazz Hands in the rearview mirror...We could reminisce about how I've questioned and scrutinized every aspect of my hand jazzing from saying it out loud to how rigid my fingers are, tried to mix it up with Spirit Fingers and Turtle Flappers...we could think back to all of the poop references, and there have been a few...oh the mighty poop reference.  The trick is to reference poop without ever saying the word "poop."  

We could laugh about that time that I gave myself "surprise attack" Jazz Hands in the nude, and how that was a very, very bad idea.

It would be selling you, the reader, short by merely rehashing all the events from the past month...like you want to hear about locking the cat outside again, about making "What Would Al Jolson Do?" bracelets, and the last thing you want is to revisit is Michigan J. Frog, the eventual icon of the WB Network.  

I could totally go through and find some memorable moments, like my story about "Pops" the pan handler and how he loves Combos, or about how I find Liza Minelli somewhat annoying, yet eerily similar to that Clockwork Orange fellow with the derby hat, or how I hate Tuesdays because of the Tower of Babel thing...but I won't put you through that nonsense.

Barry and LeVon are in the past and we should just leave them there where they belong, and as liberating as it was to give some stranger on the beach the jazz hands business, I won't bring it up here, nor will I revisit edible unicorns and the magical powers they give you, or the rainbows they poop as they fly while Jim Carey ballet dances and how we can see how beautiful he and everything else is once we look closer at the details of our every day lives and start drinking our coffee out of wine glasses because we have a deeper appreciation through deep observation of the ordinary like Mexicans and Cubans and more poop references and how sublime my Jazz Hand deployment has become just kidding it hasn't but it will save the world and bring unity among mankind and make Joseph Campbell proud to quote Shakespeare and Steve Martin and black men giving me advice, but not really going outdoors to thrust my jazz hands upon big owls swooping down to eat the dog poop reference.

But I won't do that to you...it's just not quality programming.  

Month one complete.  See you in February.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 30

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 30th, 2013

I had to jump the gun.  

In order for me to write about my hand jazzing at night, this update is based on last night's deployment, not today's.  That will have to be the workflow from here on out.  I will jazz my hands at night and report the next day.  Got it?  Good.

I take Family Dog out for his evening escapades and find a blanket of stars overhead, beyond the thick canopy of trees that shrouds our unkept yard and modest house in darkness.  I wonder about lurking owls and if there might come a time that I have to save Family Dog from a hungry, swooping predator.  Family Dog is small, brown and fuzzy.  To an owl, I imagine he looks small, brown and delicious.  

It is very possible, probable even, that hungry owls are watching us from the shrouding canopy of trees.  Possible because it looks like a lovely place for an owl to perch and hunt.  Probable because I've seen them roosted up there and have heard them hoot from nearby on numerous occasions...so this is not merely the stuff of an active imagination.

While I wait for Family Dog to...escapade...I thrust my hands toward the stars as if to grab hold of those trees, to grasp those big hooters (you saw that coming, right?) and...

...but wait...Family Dog is right in the middle of escaping.

I watch him escapade.  He watches me watching him escapade.  I laugh a little, he looks embarrassed...it's our thing.  

He punctuates the dispatch by flinging grass and leaves with his hind legs, completely in the wrong direction mind you.  But he now looks spry and eager to sniff about, hoping to find what belongs to that amazing smell located near some shrubbery...I hope that he does not as I've seen what likely created the scent trail he's found and it will totally kick his ass.

I let him continue to sniff about as I complete my hand jazzing ritual to the stars that I can faintly see beyond the trees.  It feels nice not having to see myself do it...although I need some work distracting my mind's eye...it saw the whole thing.

At least Family Dog doesn't judge like Family Cat...that's the big advantage of dogs.  They are easily distracted by interesting smells and accept you, jazzing hands and all.  Day thirty complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 29

TUESDAY, JANUARY 29th, 2013

The best advice that anyone has ever given me was when I was younger and completely out of control...I ran into this black guy, eight feet tall wearing an emerald green satin jumpsuit, matching skates and very stoned.  I said to him "I'm very sorry.  Perhaps you can help me."  

He looked down to me and replied, "little lady, let your mind go and your body will follow."

As I stand in front of the mirror on this twenty-ninth day of giving myself Jazz Hands, one thing is abundantly clear.  I have yet to let go of my mind.  Mechanically stumbling through this routine is simply...well...mechanical and stumbly.  Remember yesterday when I referred to my hand jazzing as sublime?  I was either fibbing or being ironic, take your pick.  Today I decide to deploy prior to coffee one, coffee two, shower one (okay, I only take one shower)...so I'm breaking some rules, since it really doesn't seem to matter what time of the morning these hands of mine jazz, it always seems forced.

As stated, it is morning time.  The house is quiet save for the burp and hiss of the coffee machine brewing a distant two room lengths away.  The bathroom is a strange combination of sterility and cat piss, lit way too bright with the warm glow of eight screaming, sixty watt, soft-white, light bulbs.  With outstretched arms and shaking rigid hands, I say "Jazzzz Handssssss!"  Sigh.  I turn off the lights, and the room becomes dim with the subtle illumination of hazy dawn lurking through dust and soap scum windowpanes.  I try again.  "Jazzzz Handssssss!"  Sigh.  It's an improvement, but still terrible execution.

In an ironic twist of fate, one of those sixty watt, soft-white, light bulbs goes on right above my head, but not literally, that'd be weird.

Perhaps this routine could take place at night, in the dark, where nobody can see me, including me.  Perhaps then, and only then, will my mind truly be free from the awkward constraints of seeing.  Sure, there's my mind's eye, but if I can fool it for a moment or two while I deploy my Jazz Hands, it won't see a thing!

I shall thrust my hands into the night sky and Jazz Hands mightily unto the stars...and then report back.

Stay tuned.  

I probably need to clarify that a black man did not give me the advice as stated above, nor did he call me "little lady."  Just in case you are not the one person that will know where that quote comes from (that one person being me), it is the second time in as many days that I've referenced the film "L.A. Story" in my blog.  It's a terrific movie complete with clanging testicles and talking billboards.  You should not deprive yourself further and seriously consider checking it out.

Day twenty-nine complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 28

MONDAY, JANUARY 28th, 2013

"365 Days of Jazz Hands" is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. 

On some days I use words ad nauseum, pretend as if I know stuff and try way too hard to present regurgitated information in captivating fashion (the fool's version of being interesting).  Today will not be one of those days. 

I killed a tree once by writing about it.  Today I wonder what else I might destroy with my words and will use as few of them as possible...no promises for tomorrow's ambitions, though.

You will have to take my word for it that today's Jazz Hands deployment was simply out of this world.  Sublime, even.  No trees were harmed during the execution of today's entry.  Day twenty-eight complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 27

SUNDAY, JANUARY 27th, 2013

I did Jazz Hands this morning and it likely changed the world in ways that we can not fully understand and may not for years to come.  The law of unintended consequences and all that...jazz.  But I'm not interested in changing the world right now (it's Sunday after all).  I'm more interested in having fun with this thing.

Fun is doing Jazz Hands following a winning poker hand during last night's game with the Usuals.  It may not change the world but it got some laughs, raised some eyebrows and made for a good discussion point.  I find it interesting that people find it curious, not that I do Jazz Hands every day as a result of a new year's resolution contest, but that I write about it regularly to provide updates.  I figured the former would garner more reaction and not the latter.  Go figure.  

Oh, and apologies for yesterday's partially fictitious, misinformed post...we have a Cuban neighbor, not a Mexican one.  Apparently there is a big difference between the two nationalities far greater than the relatively short, geographical  distance between the two.  I told him that it was meant as a compliment while I took his poker chips from him last night...he seemed genuinely grateful.

I hope you were not expecting details on today's hand jazzing...other than it potentially saving the world in ways we can not possibly comprehend at this juncture, it was fairly routine and uninspired.  Day twenty-seven complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 26

SATURDAY, JANUARY 26th, 2013

Out of the blue this morning, our Mexican neighbor from way down the street gave me Jazz Hands from afar.  This is the first such occurrence of an unsolicited Jazz Hands without me initiating the ritual (hence "unsolicited").  What I find rather intoxicating about this development is, despite the obvious language barrier that challenges us day to day, Jazz Hands seem to be universally accepted as a friendly gesture.  If you speak Spanish, English, Spanglish or Gibberish, Jazz Hands is understood.  We truly are on common ground...Perhaps Jazz Hands is the key to peace among mankind.  Imagine soldiers in combat raining down Jazz Hands upon the enemy instead of bombs and bullets.  First of all, less people would get hurt in general which is nice, and second of all I think both sides would have a good laugh, put down their weapons and have a feast to celebrate the end of all war forever.

Of course, I politely Jazz Hand Man of Mexico back enthusiastically in a highly expressive manner to be certain he clearly sees that I am giving him hand jazz, what with the distance between us and all (I mean that literally of course...metaphorically, there is not much distance between us due to our nonverbal communication using Jazz Hands if that was not clear).

He yells something out to me in his native tongue, probably to express his gratitude.  Does anyone know what "relajarse maldito idiota" means?  

There is a slight chance that some of the events stated above are somewhat embellished.  But I assure you that my Mexican neighbor did, in fact, give me unsolicited Jazz Hands this morning and I did, in fact, Jazz Hand him back.  Also fact is that we are metaphorically closer now as a result.  Day twenty-six complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 25

FRIDAY, JANUARY 25th, 2013

I stand in the mirror this morning, breaking all of my own rules (well...most of my own rules, I am fully clothed).  I have yet to enjoy my alluringly robust beverage with deep cherry and cocoa notes, combined with the oaky flavors of a fine bourbon.  I have not locked Cat and her judging eyes outdoors (she has lost all interest by now anyhow).  I have not even wiped the sleep from my eyes.   Yet here I stand...let the hand jazzing festivities begin.

Instead of merely deploying Jazz Hands, I imagine the mirror as a photograph.  I pose dramatically and as motionless as I can possibly muster, all the while in a Jazz Hands stance...you know, to emulate photography.  

Give me ridiculous.  Give me pathetic.  Give me three-hundred-forty more days of this nonsense.  Give me a break.  

Day twenty-five complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 24

THURSDAY, JANUARY 24th, 2013

Supported by statistics and facts attained through hours of independent research, coffee is the top ranked morning ritual ever known to mankind.  It can be enjoyed privately, shared with others, or privately shared with others...you can drink it diluted with some form of liquid or powdered dairy substance, sweetener, or pure and black, the way God intended it to be (my personal preference).  Today's coffee selection is deliciously dark and its label describes it as "alluringly robust with deep cherry and cocoa notes, combined with the oaky flavors of a fine bourbon."  Now why in God's name would you dilute that!?  Perhaps I should be drinking my coffee out of a wine glass.

More to the point, coffee makes things happen...alllllllll sorts of things.  Like Jazz Hands, for example.  Without being adequately caffeinated I just stand there in the mirror and nothing happens.  I try and try until I'm red in the face...but can't bring myself to a satisfying deployment.  If I really force the issue, the result is relatively painful.  On the other hand, too much caffeine and you get an outright Jazz Hands explosion, hands and arms flailing uncontrollably about.  Jazz Hands all over the place!  

It's always nice to get things moving in the morning, and one can not expect to properly start the day without that delicious cup of coffee and the subsequent hand jazzing that results (just not too much, mind you).  Today's Jazz Hand deployment absolutely stinks as you may have guessed, but it enabled me to get on with things.  At least the coffee and the company I shared it with was good!  Day twenty-four complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 23

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 23rd, 2013

Remember our discussion regarding routine and how it begets complacency?  No?  Well, I assure you that the topic was explored and discussed.  You probably fell asleep.  Under closer inspection, I'd like to adjust that assessment.  I'll wake you when it's over.

In fact when you do something over and over again, look at something over and over again, hear something over and over again, say something over and over again, over and over again, over and over again, and over and over again, you can go one of two ways.  You can allow complacency to beget the heck out of you, or you can take the opportunity to closely inspect until the begetting brings distortion and ambiguity.  

You would think that the more you observe the same surroundings or experience the same begettings the more you would become familiar...but if you've ever looked at anything under a microscope, you'd realize that closer inspection gives you new information.  Go ahead and stare at a Seurat painting for a while and then report back what you see.

Say the same word over and over again until it completely loses all meaning.  This is all a form of deconstructionism.  You take something intact and notice all of its parts independently until it loses shape and form.  Structure begone.

If you recall we discussed destruction as a form of creation...this is a distortion of the same concept.  

The more I do Jazz Hands the more I question what Jazz Hands is supposed to look and feel like.  You'd think that muscle memory would take over at some point but here we are twenty-three days in and I seem to know less than on day one and am now questioning it more every single day.  When implemented spontaneously, shape and form seem fine.  Standing in front of the mirror for deployment this morning, all meaning is deteriorated...a collapsed structure.

Maybe that's the point.  Observe to destroy to begin anew.  Tear it down, build it back up.  Creation via destruction.  Maybe I'm just wading knee deep in the deconstruction phase...I see a pattern emerging, and it's soooooo begetting.  Distorted and ambiguous, no?  Day twenty-three complete.  Open your eyes.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 22

TUESDAY, JANUARY 22nd, 2013

Clarification to those that have expressed concern:  To say that I do not appreciate the art of dance does not infer that I do not have an appreciation for the appreciation for the art of dance.  I am pleased that there are those out there in the world dancing gracefully in an artful way.  As evidence,  I  thoroughly enjoyed the film Black Swan which was based on a ballet dancer that grows feathers and eats a dancing unicorn to gain magical powers...now that's a hero cycle Joseph Campbell would be proud of!

It's the same with someone that I argue with.  I may not agree with your viewpoint, but I'm glad you care enough to argue about it...I can appreciate that even if your assessment is horribly misguided.

I merely went through the uninspired motions of Jazz Hands today as if it were a chore...it's a Tuesday after all, what more can be expected?  No unicorns were harmed in the writing of this blog entry.  Day twenty-two complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 21

MONDAY, JANUARY 21st, 2013

So it seems we've gone full circle.  Now we're back to finding ways to make Jazz Hands fun and spontaneous again.

Today is a national holiday and the entire family has the day off.  We join forces with Neighbor/Friend and kids, plus a couple of other kids from another friend of Neighbor/Friend and make a day trip down to Shark Tooth Beach.  In all we have three adults, seven kids and a couple of cars full of beach gear and high-tech shark tooth hunting equipment (or pooper scoopers, as one of Neighbor/Friend's kids eloquently calls them).  We're going to need our sense of humor for this to work out.

Shark tooth hunting is a success.

Additionally, a scavenger hunt for things that remind us of Jazz Hands is also fruitful.

Dead Fish Jazz Hands:

Turtle Flappers Jazz Hands:

And this brings us to today's Jazz Hands deployment.  The afternoon is getting on, the kids are rolling around in sand and dead fish while the three adults are sitting on beach chairs in relative comfort (relative due to sand in the butt cheeks).  A friendly looking couple walks by and I ask them if they have the time (I was genuinely curious).  The lady promptly informs us that it is 3:50pm and in response I tell her that "3:50 is JAZZ HANDS time!"  while giving her an enthusiastic display of the my jazzy hands.

Beach Walker Lady finds this to be moderately amusing.  On the other hand, Beach Walker Lady's better half does not smile does not look up does not break stride does not seem phased and apparently does not have a sense of humor.  To not have an appreciation for impromptu Jazz Hands from a stranger on a beach somewhere south of cold is ridiculous.  The good news is that I have a renewed sense of levity for this whole new year's resolution thing.  Day twenty-one complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 20

SUNDAY, JANUARY 20th, 2013

The good news is that my Jazz Hands breakthrough should revolutionize how I deploy the daily hand jazzing.  The bad news is that I really don't care to become a well rounded dancer, care to move my entire body with Jazz Hands being the exclamation point, or care to figure out how to deploy Jazz Hands so that it looks authentic in general.  So here's the breakthrough of the breakthrough:  I do not care if I look ridiculous or look like I'm doing it correctly.  I'd rather jazz my hands wrong and look goofy doing it than take it seriously and look stupid (even if there's nobody there to see it).

I find Liza Minelli irritating, do not particularly enjoy musicals and have zero appreciation for the art of the dance.  The more I attempt to find real appreciation of Jazz Hands implemented in modern dance, the less appreciation I have for it.

The only time I've ever really enjoyed dancing of any kind is back in college.  Roommate and I would dress up as Barry and LeVon (based loosely on the characters of the same name from a show called "The State") on 70s night at the local bar, blame some dudes sitting near us for stealing our beers and then stumble home.

Long story short, I try the real thing today and have no business trying to do "proper" Jazz Hands justice.  It is more interesting to me as a punch line rather than an exclamation point.  Day twenty complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 19

As mentioned in yesterday's entry I had an epiphany.  I have seen many an example of precision Jazz Hands, have seen many a failed attempt every day for the past eighteen days in the mirror and the missing link has finally dawned on me.

Jazz Hands is not a "hands" thing at all.  It isn't even a hands and arms thing.  And no, this isn't one of those days where I go off the deep end and claim that Jazz Hands is a state of mind (although I will not go out of my way to dispute that either).

Jazz Hands is an entire body thing.  

Standing there in the mirror flailing my hands and arms around, saying the words "Jazzzzz Hands!!!!" out loud like an idiot, is an exercise in futility.  Even when I became more disciplined, learning from the masters, the movements seemed in the ballpark, but it always fell way short of the mark.  

With the entire body in a controlled fit of expression, the arms and hands are merely the exclamation point, not the entire point.  This is a gigantic breakthrough for me.  Now it's time to go break some rules.  Not Jazz Hands types of rules, just your basic, run of the mill looting and pillaging types.  Day nineteen complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 18

FRIDAY, JANUARY 18th, 2013

What's that you ask?  What seemingly unrelated topic will I go out of the way to loosely tie back into Jazz Hands today?  There are many examples of destruction as a means of creation.  

How's that?

God tore things down to build them back up all the time.  

Jack Pines need extreme heat for their cones to open up and replenish.

Donnie Darko, Tyler Durdin and the coward Robert Ford did it (at their demise mind you).  Most well written films have a story arc where the main character has to struggle mightily and get broken down before breaching a threshold of enlightenment.  The late Joseph Campbell, a renowned authority on comparative mythology, called this the "Hero Cycle" citing Greek Mythology as the grandaddy for the archetype in modern story telling.  

Breaking barriers can lead to success as the Pablo Picassos, Albert Einsteins, Guiellermo del Toros, John Lennons, and Bill Murrays of the world can attest.  Enter Bob Fosse who was physically wrong as a dancer, breaking his own barriers to succeed by destroying an established vision of fundamentally sound dance technique.  Fosse was physically diminutive, asthmatic, had pigeon toes and a slouching posture (reference: The New York Times).  Despite all of those obstacles he became a prominent figure in the world of jazz dance culture, Broadway theater and film.  He, as Campbell would claim, had quite the Hero Cycle.  Incidentally, he directed the film Cabaret starring Liza Minelli.  Small world.

This gives me hope.

I did mention before that if I'm to do this, I will do it on my terms.  I will learn the fundamentals, but damn it if I want to incorporate Spirit Fingers and Turtle Flappers I will do it.  I highly doubt that my journey will find me cycling heroics nor do I intend to destroy Jazz establishment.  That doesn't mean the idea of it can't inspire me...if nothing else I know I don't have to feel discouraged just because I'm not very coordinated.  I'm not pigeon toed, slouchy, diminutive in stature or asthmatic.  But if you've seen me dance, you wouldn't know that for sure.  I will carry on and I will destroy my comfort zone to learn, to entertain and to keep my New Year's resolution in tact...I just hope it works out slightly better than it did for Donnie, Tyler and Robert.  

Oh, and a lightbulb went on for me today.  A realization that will no doubt be a huge asset in my hand jazzing routine from here forward.  More on that tomorrow.  Day eighteen complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 17

THURSDAY, JANUARY 17th, 2013

Today's phrase is "work in progress."

As in my development as a hand jazzer is a work in progress.  Eventually the move will be a muscle reflex with no thought required at moment of deployment.  Muscle memory takes time.  One must not merely "do" Jazz Hands.  One must "be" Jazz Hands.  A work in progress indeed, as stated prior. Total Jazz Hands enlightenment is not a goal, but a journey.

Other aspects of this journey are also a work in progress.

I have lost the interest of an audience member.  Not necessarily a "valued" audience member...but an audience member nonetheless.  The necessity to lock Cat outdoors is no longer a requirement.  She goes about her business as if I'm not even present.  That's a cat for you.  On the positive side, I no longer feel the weight of her judgment cast down upon me with her staring, yellow eyes while carrying out my morning ritual (the Jazz Hands one).  On the negative side Cat seems to go out of her way to carry out her morning ritual simultaneously (the non-Jazz Hands one).  When I say the cat is "going about her business," well, I really mean it.  The bathroom seemed a fine location for the litter box at the time.  That decision is now in serious question.

Scrutiny does not stop with my has-been scrutinizing feline audience of one.

I have three five international blog views, two four from Germany and one from England.  There is no way of knowing if the views were by chance, if they read a single word, or if the blog counter software suffers from some sort of technical glitch that allocates views internationally by accident.  Until I get a comment from one of our foreign friends (you can find the comment field at the bottom of the blog, feel free to contribute), I will not know one way or the other.  Again...work in progress.

As for domestic viewership, it turns out these blog posts are not for the attention deficit types.  Some posts will be lengthier than others, I admit, and at times stray into various topics without notice.  I too suffer from a form of attention deficitness (I really do make the effort to interweave the threads as best as possible).

The actual application of my morning Jazz Hands could certainly use the refinement of a once per day, 365 day regimen...I practice my foundations today for approximately 10 seconds...that should suffice for now. I had to get out of the bathroom due to the cat's business.  Day seventeen's work in progress complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 16

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 16th, 2013

In the quest for "Jazz Hands" wisdom we must look to the masters.  Frank Hatchett, considered "The Dr. of Jazz," has more experience on the subject than most can dream of...in his book "Frank Hatchett's Jazz Dance" he describes "Jazz Hands" as "spread fingers; face palms front."  Extensive, yes?  Gus Giordano, American jazz dancing guru defines the move as "palm of the hand facing forward with fingers outstretched."  Notably, neither master includes the "shaking of hands" in their definition, yet you see dancers shaking those hands like tambourines quite often.  Go figure.

Another legend, Liza Minelli, is a treasure chest of hand jazzing samples.  In her role as Sally Bowles in the Broadway show Caberet, Ms. Minelli uses Jazz Hands extensively (note: tambourine hand shake nowhere to be seen).  More importantly, I realize now the inspiration for the character Alex DeLarge in Stanley Kubrick's 1971 film "A Clockwork Orange."  Amazing how similar in appearance these two characters are and it's very possible, due to the timing, that Kubrick saw Minelli's performance a year or so before molding his ultraviolent DeLarge.

It turns out that jazz dance requires structure and discipline to move to an established choreography, a concept most uncomfortable to me.  Another master from another genre, while speaking of a direct influence of his, Kurt Cobain said the band Scratch Acid had great pop structure that you could really get into, like Aerosmith, but all fucked up (paraphrasing).  I would argue that this is what I really appreciate about Nirvana's music and the movie "A Clockwork Orange" as well, but could never quite figure out how to articulate my point.  Kurt Cobain was never a man of many words, but he nailed it on that occasion.

The point is that this is a challenge for someone like myself.  If I must do Jazz Hands every day it will be on my own terms.  It will have a solid foundation derived from the aforementioned masters, but will carry with it a sense of chaos and disorder.  More DeLarge than Bowles.  More Miles Davis than John Coltrane.  More Nirvana than, dare I say Aerosmith?  Today I practice structure, though.  I can not improvise until I have mastered the fundamentals.  Spread fingers, facing palms forward, arms outstretched, omitting the tambourine shake of hands...Day sixteen complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 15

TUESDAY, JANUARY 15th, 2013

Speaking of patterns, bad things occur on Tuesdays.  Really really really bad things.  September 11th, 2001 was a Tuesday.  So was April 20th 1999, January 28th 1986 and August 23rd 2005.  All Tuesdays.  The biblical confusion of languages at the Tower of Babel?  The fall of Constantinople?  Tuesday and Tuesday.  The list goes on.  In general Tuesday is regarded as the worst day of the week (by me and also by Greeks apparently).  This school of thought is based on daily variables of anticipation (that's my thing, not sure about the Greek's reasoning) which can be explained in length another day.

I'm not trying to compare the attempt at "Jazz Hands" on this particular Tuesday to the Tuesday that the Tower of Babel's linguistic chaos occurred...but it was pretty bad.  Being the disciplined hand jazzer that I am, I concentrate on the fundamentals, paying close attention to the rigidity of my digits and the positioning of my arms.  It will have to do.  Tuesdays suck.  We're moving on.  Day fifteen complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 14

MONDAY, JANUARY 14th, 2013

If you are unfamiliar with the Michigan J. Frog tale, the story has a fairly sad conclusion.  Michigan's master was so driven by greed that it eventually drives him mad.  Michigan's inability to cooperate results in his master discarding him just before getting committed to the asylum.  As luck shall have it, the box containing the frog is somehow discarded in a time capsule and subsequently rediscovered in the year 2056.  You'll have to suspend disbelief for the 100 year-old frog...it is a cartoon after all.  The futuristic man that rediscovers Michigan looks eerily similar to the original master, starting the whole sequence of events over again.  Sequences bring patterns and routine to mind...

That's my segue way and I'm sticking to it.

Fundamentally sound "Jazz Hands" requires a sequence of repeated movement.  By definition, repeated movements in a sequence is a pattern (I'd appreciate the benefit of the doubt here).  This stands to reason that a dance "routine" is considered so due to the pattern of sequential movements strung together.  Another word for a pattern of sequential movements strung together is "rhythm."  I believe this realization will eventually help me navigate toward proper hand jazzing form.  The good news is that there are patterns, sequences and rhythm virtually everywhere you look.  The bad news is that routine begets contempt...as the saying almost goes.  Take the morning commute as a prime example.  Every single day it is the same thing.  The same street signs the same street lights the same intersections the same trees the same bridge the same beggars the same texting teenagers the same gawkers the same parking structure.  Repeat this drive five times a week, four times a month, twelve months a year, for Lord knows how many years, you have a sequence.  Looking closer there are micro-patterns within the larger frame.  Some things seem random but even randomness has a sense of structure to it if you pay close attention.

"Pops" is an elderly gentleman that stands at one particular intersection holding a sign describing his tale of whoa.  I know his name is "Pops" because he wears a little "Hello, My Name Is" name tag.  Pops is a "veterin" and he "neds" my help.  I have given the man Combos to ease his pain, have rolled down my car window just to say hello and he seems like a nice enough man.  Some days he's there at the intersection, some days he is not.  I go long stretches without seeing him at all and I wonder if something bad has occurred only for him to re-emerge, sometimes with a new sign and on occasion he's just standing there talking on his cell phone.  He'll be there a couple of days then out of the blue disappears again.  Despite the seemingly random nature of Pops's whereabouts and the whereabouts of his colleagues (the term "colleagues" is not used ironically in this case), these street folk are on a specific rotation.  There is a pattern, executed with precision.  I don't know whether to be impressed by their discipline or put off by their deception.  The broad picture is that there is pattern and structure at every turn.  The schedule of the bums, the lines on the highway, the waves in the water as I drive along the causeway, every breath, beat of the heart, etcetera.  I have within me, as we all do, the capacity to pull off "Jazz Hands" even if it takes me 365 days to figure it out.  Of course, today's attempt seems to suggest otherwise, but the routine will continue, eventually becoming a well orchestrated pattern of sequential movements strung together...I shall have rhythm.  I just hope that the routine does not beget contempt.  Day fourteen complete.  Day fourteen complete.  Day fourteen...you get the idea...complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 13

SUNDAY, JANUARY 13th, 2013

The differences between amphibians and reptiles should be something I know off the top of my head.  Certainly the subject came up in school at some point, yet the distinctions elude me.  Enter Google.  Time Magazine had a great article detailing how the Smart Phone/Digital Age/Google Era is making people like me stupid (I am paraphrasing, of course)...a well storied, ironic twist of fate for us tied to these "Smart Phones" for sure.  Having knowledge of just about anything you can imagine comes at a price, it seems.  We no longer store as much information in our long-term memory bank due to a lack of necessity.  As evidence, I have exactly three phone numbers memorized.  My personal iPhone number, my wife's cell phone number, and the phone number of the house that I spent the better part of my childhood.  Curiously, phones back then had cords and were permanently fixed to a wall.  Some of them had long cords to enable privacy, and as an added bonus my sister could sit in the bathroom to gossip AND trip me as I walk through the house all in one fell swoop.  More to the point, I no longer require the memorization of your phone number because, A) I don't typically make a lot of phone calls and B) With the click of a button or two, the digits are at my disposal wherever my iPhone and I may go...except for the pool.  My iPhone likes swimming as much as Family Dog.  What one has to do with the other would require even more rambling, but what I can tell you is that the kind people at the Apple Store, unofficially, have a "Drowning Puppy Saving Discount" on a replacement phone.  As smart as these devices are, they do not know how to swim nor are they amphibious or reptilian in any way, shape or form.

Where was I going with this?

The word "reptilian" specifically means "to creep stealthily under area of darkness."  They have scales, breathe air from lungs their entire life, usually lay eggs and are cold blooded.  Sea turtles fall within this distinction quite nicely (opposed to the iPhone).  After naming a "Jazz Hands" variation based on how a sea turtle moves its flappers, my thoughts turned to that old cartoon featuring (appropriately) "Michigan J. Frog" singing a ragtime jazz number while dancing.  If you recall, Michigan J. Frog would dance and sing until the curtain lifted, revealing to the audience a very ordinary, ribbiting frog wearing a top hat.  Keep this knowledge in the back of your mind, or store it somewhere on your smartphone if you're expecting to see me demonstrate hand jazzing at some point.  I went back and viewed that cartoon a few times (credit: YouTube) and am surprised to report that Michigan J. Frog does NOT jazz his hands once...at least not in his 1955 Loony Tunes debut, "One Froggy Evening."  Also note that Michigan J. Frog is an amphibian, not a reptile.  Although cold blooded like his reptilian friend the sea turtle, the comparisons end there.  Amphibian translates to "lives double lives," which seems fairly appropriate given the nature of the cartoon character and how that character compares somewhat favorably to my situation...Also, for those curious as to the remaining distinctions, amphibians are born with gills, develop lungs as they mature and require a nearby water source due to their moist skin.

Michigan J. Frog, for most of his song and dance number has a hat in one hand and a cane in the other prohibiting him from jazzing his little, webbed hands.  Near the end, with hat on head, he almost pulls off a one-handed "Jazz Hand" but doesn't quite get there.  What a tease.  Today I attempt a one-handed hand jazz to experiment (although no cane, no hat) and it somehow comes off as less than half-right, leading me to conclude that "Jazz Hands" is an "elements greater than the sum of its parts" kinda thing. Michigan J. Frog knew what he was doing as it turns out.  Day Thirteen complete.  Ribbit...

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 12

SATURDAY, JANUARY 12th, 2013

I find myself face to face (quite literally) with a mirrored wall floor to ceiling on Saturday evening while visiting Adjacent Neighborhood Family.  A quick glance over my left shoulder to ensure nobody is looking and all is clear.  Shuffle to the left...shuffle to the right...arms outreached, fingers spread, not a wiggle among them, "Jazz Hands" is a huge success today.  Enter Girl Kid accompanied by Adjacent Neighborhood Girl Kid and they join in.  I demonstrate to them the difference between "Jazz Hands" and "Spirit Fingers" and in a moment of blissful spontaneity I make a new move up.  Moving my elbows in toward my body, fingers rigid and close together (opposed to spread out fingers associated with hand jazzing), I flap my arms, elbow to finger tips and call this variation "Sea Turtle Flappers."  I get a good chuckle out of the girls and in my head they are laughing with me.  Possibly one of the biggest developments in this journey to date, this is the first occasion where "Jazz Hands" became a social event.  There was that one time in the car somewhere south of Islamorada when a meager hand jazzing was displayed in the rear view mirror with Family in the car, but that barely counts as it was quick, poorly performed, and I have an uncanny talent for saying and doing things that get entirely ignored by Family.  Also worth noting:  The addition of shuffling my feet to and fro.  This was unplanned and I give full credit to Wall Mirror for inspiring the uninhibited inclusion.  Day Twelve complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 11

FRIDAY, JANUARY 11th, 2013

Sometimes the weight of the world, or the weight of your particular world, or your place within that particular world and the weight you bear as a direct result of the role you play within that world can feel a bit overwhelming.  Amazing how everything can seem to be going very well and then one little misstep can derail all positive momentum, like a dime on the railroad tracks.  If you accidentally throw a casserole dish at an oven, breaking both the casserole dish and the glass covering on the oven door, which is made of tempered glass creating an enormous mess when slammed into by a casserole dish, you laugh it off and make a mental note not to let that happen again.  The line "don't sweat the small stuff" had to be originally uttered for an instance much like that very hypothetical, made up, fictional event used in the example above.  I mean really, how could one "accidentally" throw a casserole dish into the front covering of an oven door, shattering both!?  Didn't happen.  Hypothetical situations notwithstanding, having pre-teen children is certainly worth sweating over and the line "don't sweat the small stuff" was certainly not intended for situations involving them.  Without divulging specifics that would make you laugh and cringe, let me just say that I am ill prepared for this new era in parenting and all else that lies ahead concerning pre-teens, teens and ultimately college.  That's not to say I was entirely prepared for all stages prior to now...but you get the idea.

The point I'm actually trying to make here is that I believe the intent of submitting "doing jazz hands in the mirror every morning" for the "Pick Kyle's 2013 New Year's Resolution Contest" was to begin each day on a positive note and with a smile on my face.  Admittedly, any self-imposed (or cat imposed) embarrassment is accompanied by humility and levity.  "Jazz Hands" makes me laugh at myself every morning before heading out into a world where taking certain things seriously is a requirement.  This being said, there are days when inspiration, ambition and levity are difficult to summon.  I'm not sure how Al Jolson, the 'Greatest Entertainer Alive' in his time, did it.  He must not have had pre-teen children.  So with Cat locked outdoors, today's hand jazzing feels inadequate.  It felt exactly like forcing a smile.  It does not feel right and does nothing to bring any sense of levity to the challenges that lie ahead on this particular day.  There is a light at the end of the tunnel and if the dime on the tracks does not completely derail my train, today is Friday and an entire weekend of shopping for casserole dishes and ovens await.  Day eleven complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 10

THURSDAY, JANUARY 10th, 2013

To begin today's journey, I have locked Cat outdoors.  For you northerners following along, don't worry...it is a sunny, warm January morning.  I have learned over the course of the past nine or so days that walking to the mirror and executing "Jazz Hands" is fairly lame.  I try striking a pose first.  No.  Not that pose.  I try a new one.  No.  That's not it either.  I don't have many poses and I question whether or not all of this is in vain?  Maybe I just don't know enough about "Jazz Hands" overall to conduct it effectively.  I'm sure that's it...to Wikipedia we go.  As it turns out, the actual origination of "Jazz Hands" is not entirely known.  The dance move was prominently featured in the movie "The Jazz Singer" starring Al Jolson in 1927, and from my extensive research (5 minutes this morning) that's the earliest documented instance.  Al Jolson was considered "The Greatest Entertainer Alive" in his day and well, that's a great start for a famed dance move.  Although I've never seen the movie in its entirety, there are some clips available on YouTube.  There are some close encounters with "Jazz Hands" in those clips, brushing softly against hand jazzing destiny, but they fall slightly shy of the mark.  I don't know if I have it in me to watch the film, not in its original form and not the Neil Diamond remake.  So I'll take it on Wikipedia's authority that Al Jolson is the grandaddy of "Jazz Hands" landing in our hearts (and hands) in 1927.  Day ten complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 9

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 9th, 2013

According to Daughter you can not move your fingers independently from the others and if you do it's not considered "Jazz Hands."  The fingers must remain rigid and always stay parallel to the other fingers on your hand.  If you wiggle your fingers, "Jazz Hands" become "Spirit Fingers."  Daughter gained this helpful knowledge from Neighbor Friend who apparently has some experience with "Spirit Fingers" or "Jazz Hands" or "Spirit Fingers" AND "Jazz Hands" or at the very least knows more about both and the distinction between the two than I.  I am entirely unaware if I have had my fingers rigid in prior attempts, but will be sure to do so from here forward.  While "Spirit Fingers" sounds intriguing and even a little enticing, it is just not 2013's directive.  The people have chosen "Jazz Hands" and "Jazz Hands" the people shall get.  And the cat.  She watches with her judging eyes.  Day nine complete, with rigid fingers.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 8

TUESDAY, JANUARY 8th, 2013

Trying to find the perfect moment to capture the radiance and energy necessary for a hand jazzing is proving to be somewhat tedious.  Morning coffee with wife, debate fault of banking and loan fiasco, lose debate regarding fault of banking and loan fiasco, take kid one to school while sipping coffee two...fast forward...back home...turn shower on prepare for morning grooming ritual...begin to step into shower and then...pivot...SURPRISE ATTACK JAZZ HANDS!  For several reasons, this turns out to be a huge mistake.  First of all, with bed head and sleepy eyes, despite having had a spirited debate and two cups of coffee, radiance and energy do not appear to be in attendance prior to the morning shower.  Unless in a pinch, I shall only attempt "Jazz Hands" until the morning grooming routine is fully complete...and I can't emphasize enough that this is definitely not...how shall I put this...a clothing optional activity.  Day eight complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 7

MONDAY, JANUARY 7th, 2013

A friend graciously sent along a  hyperlink of a video of a man of the web demonstrating "Jazz Hands" among other interesting dance moves.  This should prove very useful in my quest to seek out the proper "Jazz Hands" method.  At this point "Jazz Hands Methodology" is becoming somewhat of a focus.  In this hyperlink of the video of the man of the web demonstrating "Jazz Hands" I can not confirm that this jazzy man of the web is a professional dancer or an authority on "Jazz Hands Methodology" or if his version of "Jazz Hands" is appropriately displayed, in general.  Perhaps it is but one proper style among the many, if it is at all, and if it is at all, is this the one proper style among the many that is proper for me in the long run?  The jazzy web man's version definitely seems more polished than mine, correct or not and I was pleased, to say the least, to see him deploy a similar "pivot" move that I had experimented with and reported on yesterday.  Web Man's version was not much of a surprise attack as mine was, but again, variation may be permitted in the world of "Jazz Hands."  We still do not know.  The point is that the pivot move may actually be an "accepted" inclusion and this builds confidence that I am moving in the right direction, naturally.  

Unfortunately, I had already jazzed my hands prior to viewing the hyperlink sample this morning and will have to reference the jazzing hands web man's video on future dates, but this gives me time to properly dissect it, without jumping in too early.  I don't want to jump the gun, hurt myself and suffer a setback.  Absolutely nothing noteworthy regarding my actual "Jazz Hands" deployment for the day.  Although I will report that "Jazz Hands" seem to go much smoother after my morning coffee opposed to prior.  Today fell into the "prior" category and left a lot to be desired.  I certainly feel much more jazzy after a good dose of caffeine, which compares awkwardly to another post coffee, morning tradition...but that's the stuff of another blog.  Day seven complete.

365 Days of Jazz Hands - Day 6

SUNDAY, JANUARY 6th, 2013

Today I become slightly more comfortable with the overall idea of jazzing my hands in the mirror.  I feel uncomfortable with the rising comfort level.  I try facing away from the mirror, do a quick pivot and snap quickly into "Jazz Hands."  I call this "Surprise Attack Jazz Hands."  This offers some insight as to how I spontaneously deploy "Jazz Hands."  I naturally rotate or "dip" to my right at the hip.  This is what I will now call the "Right Hip Dip."  I raise my eyebrows and say "Jazz Hands!"  I position my hands perpendicular to the floor and shift them side to side, palms facing away from me.  I have no clue if I do this naturally by instinct, or if I am merely mimicking (unintentionally, of course) something I have seen someone else do before.  What's more, I have no idea if this is proper form or if there is even such a thing as "freeform" or "free style."  I prefer not to research such matters at this point, but feel the urge swelling within me.  One note of interest:  It helps a great deal to make a goofball face at time of "Jazz Hands" deployment.  As I've learned in days past, dead pan just does not cut the mustard.  Day 6 complete.