When people talk listen completely. Don’t be thinking what you’re going to say. Most people never listen. Nor do they observe. You should be able to go into a room and when you come out know everything that you saw there and not only that. If that room gave you any feeling you should know exactly what it was that gave you that feeling. Try that for practice. When you’re in town stand outside the theatre and see how the people differ in the way they get out of taxis or motor cars. There are a thousand ways to practice. And always think of other people.
6. When Mother Abbess tells Maria, “Climb ev’ry mountain,” she is setting a very unrealistic expectation of success, especially since they are in the Alps. It’s one thing to use a metaphor about uninterrupted mountain climbing if you’re in Nebraska, but when you look out of the window every day and see more mountains than you could ever climb in your entire life, that’s just setting you up to feel like a failure. Even if it’s only until you find your dream, getting up every day and saying, “Well, I haven’t found my dream yet, so I guess it’s mountain-climbing all day long” isn’t necessarily helpful.
Finally someone else who doesn’t buy into the Sound of Music! My wife, my sister, my step-mother and sister-in-law have roped me into seeing a live production of it. I plan to just play with my nephew the whole time.
Middle Branch’s version is drawn from a barrel that the owners of the bar personally selected from Heaven Hill, the Kentucky distillery that makes the bourbon. They bought the entire barrel — 120 bottles’ worth of whiskey — choosing the cask from among several samples sent to them. It had the right balance of char, smoke, caramel and vanilla they were looking for, said Lucinda Sterling, the bar’s managing partner. Heaven Hill then bottled it, and now Middle Branch pours it. This thirst for proprietary whiskey, a product that a bar can call its own, is spreading. Heaven Hill and other bourbon makers — including Buffalo Trace, Four Roses and Brown-Forman — are selling barrels to bars from San Francisco to Boston. In the last year, Heaven Hill, a leading force in the proliferation of personalized whiskey, has sold full barrels to 109 bars in 27 states and three international markets. Forty-five of those businesses bought multiple barrels or were reordering.
What my friends don’t know is how to measure any of this on the only scale most of us have. You know, the one the I.R.S. uses. And to be honest, I’m not sure how to answer the question either. How successful is Max’s music career? What is a tattoo on the forearm of a 20-something in a medium-size Midwestern state worth? The Eskimos have all those words for snow, and it seems the only language we have for expressing success is numeric. It may be a universal language, but it’s an impoverished one. Maybe we need a word for “never having to sit in a meeting where someone reads long power point slides out loud.” Maybe we should have an expression that captures the level of success you’ve achieved when you do exactly what you love every day.
Its central idea is that pop music’s obsession with luxury disconnects with the reality of its audience’s lives. The trick is that it makes this critique while musically embodying so much of what’s great about contemporary pop and hip-hop – the weight of the drums, the scale of the chorus. Subliminally it says, “While I find this silly, I also adore it.” Bringing intellect and aesthetic ambition to a medium often both celebrated and derided for banality, the song sounded like a major new star kicking in the door, and demanding a place at pop’s table. You could almost feel the incumbents trembling.
The people we know affect us in subtly major ways: for one, they help us land gigs. For two, they shape our behavior: if you’re someone who’s endlessly assessing things, then it’s a good idea to pair up (personally or professionally) with someone inclined toward action (though you may drive yourself crazy for a while). Third, they shape our ideas.