A Violation of Unspoken Rules

In certain cultures, games, sports, and situations, there exist unspoken rules. Though unspoken, most folks tend to be aware of these rules and follow them. Granted, it does take newcomers a period of adjustment and assimilation during which they learn the unspoken rules, but after a while, they too tend to fit right in. At least, most of them do...

Take, for example, personal space bubbles (NOT a euphemism for farts). For Americans and other western cultures, the personal space bubble is loosely defined as an average of 24.5 inches (60 centimeters) on either side, 27.5 inches (70 centimeters) in front and 15.75 inches (40 centimeters) behind (internationalstudents.org). This is the space westerners like to keep between them and an every day conversation partner. It means we feel weird and slightly violated when the person we're talking with is inside that bubble.

Other cultures, however, have smaller personal space bubbles and feel dissed if they're not closer than that. So the close talker in Seinfeld could have been from a close talking culture, or they could have just been violating the unspoken rule for westerner's personal space bubbles. If I remember correctly, it was pretty clear the close talker was just a local oddball, but I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.

Now for a more personal, real life example of unspoken rules.

I play lead trumpet in the Brookline Community Band (a.k.a the First Corps of Cadets Band...long story). BCB rehearsals have unspoken rules that are common to every band I have personally been a member of in my lifetime. These rules generally address when it's ok to talk between playing, how to enter when you're late, and even music-related rules (but I won't drop the music nerd bomb on you because I still want you to like me). There is one member of the band, however, who hasn't picked up on one of our more subtle rules: 1. Don't turn around to stare at someone while they're playing a solo. This person seems like a nice enough guy and a good player, so I don't want to get down on him, but man, is it distracting!

The first time it happened, I was playing a solo and our then new band member turns around, I thought simply to identify who was playing, make some sort of mental note (perhaps "trumpet soloist has large eyeballs"), and turn back around to listen. Because after all, that is what music is all about: how it sounds, not how the person playing it looks. I mean, I'm not performing interpretive dance back here while I play my solo, just breathing and buzzing my lips. It's actually a little unattractive. So I took it in stride the first time, thinking, "oh he's just new," but it kept happening. And not just to me, to other soloists also. It wasn't stealth either, as each time he blatantly swiveled around in his seat, craned his neck, and adjusted his glasses as necessary to stare at the soloist for the solo in its entirety.

Because I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, however, for the next couple of months I reasoned away the weight of his eyeballs on me at solo time. Maybe he was just studying my embouchure or wanted to see how I breathed to prepare for a phrase. Maybe he's a visual person and looking at the soloist really enhances the experience. Maybe he thinks I'm pretty. (I later ruled out "maybe he thinks I'm pretty" based on the fact that playing the trumpet makes you visibly less attractive.) Maybe he used to sit in a place where you could see the soloists at all times in a previous band (and was therefore stealthier and less noticeable in his soloist staring) and, as a result, is used to being able to see the soloist easily. Now, at a bad angle, he has to swivel around in order to see and doesn't know there's an unspoken rule against that.

I stopped on the last part of that sentence and thought back to the close talker. The close talker didn't know they were a close talker. Maybe my band mate doesn't know they're a soloist starer and that gives people the "no" feeling?

In truth, I can only speak for myself when I say it gives ME the "no" feeling, but even so, how can I let him know? With a close talker, it's a little easier. Moving back a step, averting eye contact to show discomfort, turning to the side to avoid facing them, and other nonverbal signals and body language corrections might just send that desired signal, "please, you're in my bubble." But what can I do to gently signal my discomfort while reading music and playing a solo? I can't meet his gaze and make him feel awkward by holding it as long as possible because I have to read my music. I can't say anything (like, "I'm sorry, did you say something?" or "can I help you?" or "did you need something?") because I'm playing a wind instrument.

So, now four months into this, I find myself in an ongoing, not-quite fixable predicament. I mean, sure, I could address him directly after rehearsal, but I’m not quite sure what to lead with. "Please stop staring at me" seems too direct, and “would you mind facing front while others are playing?” sounds like a teacher’s reprimand. I suppose I should let it lie and get used to it. Maybe it’s character-building or something, despite the “no” feeling and the violation of unspoken rules.

Wait a minute. Do you think he might be trying to change the unspoken rules? Wouldn’t that be just crazy?! Picture it: Everyone in the band turns around to stare at you while you’re playing. Brrr, creepy! That’s a lot of eyeball pressure! I hope that doesn’t happen! I'm going to have nightmares now.

Money saver: Join a community band

As you may or may not remember, I've been a member of the Brookline Community Band for a few years now. Most of our performances are at retirement/ rehab/ convalescent homes. We sometimes get paid...in sugar-free cookies, fruit cups, and water. I love it. It reminds me a little of visiting my late grandparents. That is, without the smoke and the back-scratcher.

But then it gets better. In spring, there's the annual pancake breakfast. Put on by the Brookline Rotary Club, it's basically a benefit for some of the high school's sports teams and such. We play at the event every year, and every year we get free admission. That means free all-you-can-eat pancakes! And not only pancakes: there's breakfast sausage too, and you can add all sorts of toppings (like whipped cream and raspberry sauce. Also pancake syrup for the less adventurous). Then, you can wash the deliciousness down with Starbuck's coffee, OJ, chocolate milk, or apple juice. And it's all free! What a money saver! This year, I considered staying and having pancakes for lunch, too, but all my fellow bandies had left and I thought it might look a little weird if I stayed.

Yesterday was another money saver brought to me by the Brookline Community Band: Our annual performance at the Boston Marathon.

random marathon shot...I think about 2 feet to the right of where the shot gets cut off was a guy dressed as Captain America

It was rather chilly and quite windy yesterday, which made playing difficult, but I had NO problem housing my subsequent free hot dog, Doritos, and can of Pepsi.

So what is the moral of the story? Join a community band! The benefits might not always be healthy, but they're delicious and they're free!

Another useful money saver that is somewhat related? This free sample blog.
Excellent.

Bless my bathrobe forever

Part of the beauty of being unemployed is that you can follow through with any thought that would normally go unfinished, no matter where it might lead.

Here's a good example of this: I play trumpet in the Brookline Community Band (yes, I have band camp stories, no they don't involve any flutes), and we're playing Highlights from Camelot. When our 1/2 deaf (bless his heart and hearing aid, it's actually closer to 3/4 deaf) conductor passed out the piece at rehearsal, I was reminded of how my mother used to love the music from that show/movie. She would play it while we did the dishes or rearranged the curtains in the living room and sing merrily along. I tried to watch the 1967 movie rendition growing up, but at age 5, didn't have the patience for monologues and musical numbers. "I should watch that again," I thought to myself, and lo, because of my scads of time, I decided to do just that.

It's delightful corniness and 60s era jokes make me smile...why can't life be more like that? It would be wonderful if we could all stop and spontaneously combust into song. Think of the musical numbers traffic jams would inspire! I'm picturing the choreography now, Jets vs. Sharks style. Oh and the songs I would have sang and the choreography I could have fight-danced when they laid me off...oh to dream.

My frustration with once again being unemployed, though, is still a ripe topic and can easily be set to the tune of Edelweiss:

Unemployed, Unemployed
Once again, I meet thee
Surfing Craig's List, I feel dissed
by the failing economy

When will I get a freaking job?
Will I wait forever?

Unemployed, Unemployed
Bless my bathrobe forever

I plan on singing it in the style of a German bar song every day until I find a job.