Well, I just opened them, and apparently I have gallstones and a renal cyst. Uh, okay, maybe I don't have serious gallstones or a major kidney cyst (which I now have to look up), but surely they warrant a bit of conversation started by him? No?

Uh, yeah. My doctor's office calls with any non-normal results. That seems WTFfy.

So I ran out to do some errands while the laundry ran (I am so lazy, I like to go outside once I've gone down to the basement), and accidentally swung into Lord & Taylor, where I got Anne Klein boots for $64.50! They were half off, and I got $20 off for going in the morning. Merry Christmas, Jesse!

Every mean person's friend.

Funny/ironic/whatever thing was, she was really mean to my sister when she denied it. But for some reason, it was really important to her after my scant two years at school with her, to gush like we'd been best friends. I'm guessing it's pro-active PR, and she was everyone's best friend, and it was most important to gush where it wasn't true, in case her public reputation got tarnished with bitch and borderline bully.

You people are justifying me owning at least two butter dishes! Thank you! Let me at least not make them the same one.

-t, can you share pictures of your kitchen sometime? I have to admit, I kind of have environment envy of you and your kitchen stuff.

I'm having a really interesting discussion about whether or not talent actually exists, or if it is all just hard work. I'm told that the literature consensus is that there is no "talent," only hard work and varying degrees of intelligence.

I don't think there are any known genetic markers for "music" in the way there are for eye color. But I'm unsure how that would be defined, anyway.

I don't think there are any known genetic markers for "music" in the way there are for eye color. But I'm unsure how that would be defined, anyway.

Well, there's perfect pitch, which doesn't guarantee musical talent, but certainly makes learning a lot of the technical things a lot easier.

I'm told that the literature consensus is that there is no "talent," only hard work and varying degrees of intelligence.

That's got to be bullshit, I'm sorry. Unless you believe in different kinds of intelligence, and then that's the same thing as talent, I think. I mean, maybe my friend who is brilliant with numbers could work really hard and learn how to write a comprehensible sentence, but I can't believe she would ever be a brilliant writer.

I'm having a really interesting discussion about whether or not talent actually exists, or if it is all just hard work. I'm told that the literature consensus is that there is no "talent," only hard work and varying degrees of intelligence.

Wasn't there a NY Times article on this recently? Something titled "Sorry Strivers" saying that talent was essential.

Having coached Little League for six years I'm confident that talent exists in widely various ways. Some of it is about physical gifts, but isn't that talent? Quick-twitch muscles and reflexes and eye-hand coordination.

Talent Matters too. Not enough to make up for a lack of hard work, but still.

I mean, maybe my friend who is brilliant with numbers could work really hard and learn how to write a comprehensible sentence, but I can't believe she would ever be a brilliant writer.

Yeah. I mean, I have worked pretty hard at music, because when I was a kid and teenager, it was important to me. I practiced a lot, and it led to me being somewhat proficient at a few different instruments, and decent at singing, but I know that I'm never going to be really great at any of them.

Okay, but show me talent under a microscope. Measure it. It's kind of like porn. Hard to define, but you know it when you see it?

So what is talent? I went with this: "Here's my punk ass hypothesis: You get eight copies of the gene for dexterity, plus a guitar, LSD, and some free time, and you get to be Hendrix. Kind of like cystic fibrosis, but with less coughing and more electric ladyland."

Now, see, that's a great couple of sentences. That's a FUCKING GIFT.

Or, I practiced for ten thousand hours to deliver those two sentences to you, ala Gladwell.

-t, can you share pictures of your kitchen sometime?

Sure! Uh, next time it's sufficiently tidy, which it is not today.