Woke up early this morning, washed up my baby before the place is packed and got all that nasty salt off her. She deserved a nice bath for working hard during the winter. I also did my laundry. While I was drying my clothes, I had a chance to exchange a few words with a woman who washes, dries and folds clothes for people who are too damn lazy to do their own dirty laundry. I asked her typical questions like how much it would cost to wash a bag of clothes. As we were folding at the same table (I was more like pairing up my shocks and throw everything into my basket), she told me, “I fold pretty neat.” I just smiled and watched her carefully managing men’s Fruit-of-the-Loom draws with some thoughts running through my mind. When Americans (only the discriminated ones) said that, “you immigrants come here and take over our jobs,” I was disturbed, but this woman made me feel a bit guilty. From the way she breathes heavily in and out, I could tell she hates her job, but she’s not complaining and whining about it. The weather is gorgeous outside and people just dumped their shit on her. She gets paid hourly; therefore, her check is still the same no matter how much clothes she washed. I hate doing laundry myself and I only do it when I almost have nothing clean to wear. Imagine working forty hours a week, not including weekend, just doing laundry would drive me insane; therefore, I respect her for what she has to do to make ends meet.

James P. Johnson’s Harlem Stride Piano. Johnson was the father of stride piano, a style that requires the player to do it all (beat, melody and bass), and it is very hard to accomplish. Even Jazzy admits that is it impossible to play with her small hands. My jazz history professor said that shaking Johnson’s hand was like holding a bunch of bananas. One of Johnson’s stride masterpieces is “Carolina Shout.” It’s like a test for anyone who wants to play stride piano. Even Duke Ellington had to work hard to mater it. In addition to his contribution as jazz pianist, Johnson could also play classical music. His Victory Stride is a breathtaking example.

Fats Waller’s The Joint is Jumpin’. Waller was Johnson’s student and also a brilliant stride pianist. His “Numb Fumblin'” is filled with a variety of rich and imaginative tones. His rendition of “Carolina Shout” is no less virtuosic than his teacher. Waller even succeeded with popular tunes like “Honeysuckle Rose” and “Ain’t Misbehaving.”

Count Basie’s The Complete Decca Recordings. Basie started out as stride pianist then developed into his own blues-inflected style. He was the master of understatement, and was famous for playing the spare keys because he had a solid rhythm section behind him. His version of “Honeysuckle Rose” is different from Waller because of the few tasty notes Basie tagged his name on it.

Theolonious Monk’s Criss Cross. My man Monk also came out of the Harlem stride tradition, but his style was full of angularity and outside standard sound of bebop. His stylistic tick was playing downward, cascading scale, and he loved the flatted fifths. He usually played clotted alter chords and was heavy into the beat. His rendition of “Tea for Two” and “Crepuscule with Nellie” were interestingly and intentionally fractured. Like his personality, Monk’s use of space in music was way out there. And what I love about Monk’s playing is the dissonant, disruptive and unpredictable variations.

In a nutshell, 37 Signals’ Getting Real provides advices on building web applications that get the job done and stay the hell out of the way. To accomplish these two goals, an application needs to be simple (with fewer features), should focus only on the main tasks and requires minimal or zero learning from the users.

From “The Starting Line,” “Feature Selection,” “Interface Design,” “Promotion” to “Support,” the book helps the team (manager, designer, programmer) to stay on point by breaking the job down into small chunks and to avoid wasting times like meetings. Meetings are toxic because “they break your work day into small, incoherent pieces that disrupt your natural workflow” and “they often contain at least one moron that inevitably gets his turn to waste everyone’s time with nonsense.” I also hope that companies take 37 Signals’ guidelines on customer support by “tear down the walls between support and development” and about “quick turnaround time on support queries should be a top priority.”

I haven’t used any of 37 Signals’ web applications; therefore, I don’t know how simple and easy they are to use. After reading Getting Real, the application that jumps at me is Apple’s Preview, which comes with Mac OS X. Preview is not only a simple program that gets the job done, but also reveals its strengths the more I use it. Just like its name, the software allows me to preview almost any type of image files from PSD to PNG to JPG and even PDF on the fly. (Try to open 20 PSDs at a time in Photoshop vs. Preview and see the differences). Why do I need Acrobat Reader, which takes forever to launch, when Preview does a smoother job? As I am reading Getting Real in Preview, I discovered a neat feature by accidentally closed down the application. Preview bookmarked the page I was on. I didn’t have to read the manual to find that out. Now that is keeping it real, and smart too.

I would like to dedicate the new layout to all my Vietnamese ladies around the world on International Women’s Day. So don’t say that Donny doesn’t care about women. My inspiration for this design is drawn from the captivating photograph on the left. Once again, mad kowtows to Hoai Nam and the Ao Trang‘s folks for allowing me to use their work. I emailed them this morning asking for permission, and I received an instant reply with, “We’ll always backing you up 100%.” That makes me feel so good, and I am grateful for it. Anyway, enjoy your special day, ladies! And keep your head up!

It seems like the only thing Dam Vinh Hung can brag about these days is his obsessions with brand-name design: “I got a small suitcase for $2,000.” Wow! I am so impressed. In another interview, he said that he dropped 35 Gs on designers’ clothes. I am sure he can spend that much with the kind of money he’s making, but the brand doesn’t make a man. In Lan Song Xanh 2005-2006, Mr. Dam hosted the show and changed clothes every time he appeared on stage. Yet, he looked ridiculous most of the time. When he performed “Bac Tinh,” dude rocked high boots, tight pants, and faux-fur scarf that goes with his Kangol-styled cap. I just can’t believe that fool blew all that money on those junks. If I were DVH, I would take five grants to get some Armani suits and invest the rest else or donate to the needy. Thirty Gs can feed many hungry children in Viet Nam. He’ll get more respect that way than the craps he puts on his scrawny, flapped figure.

Update: I found some photos on his site
The infamous “Bac Tinh” performance I mentioned.
Unmatching reds. I haven’t seen them red jeans since ’95.

Ngo Thuy Mien’s “Cau Mirabeau” performed by Tuyet Dung. Quite beautiful!

Wendy’s “We brave the terror that’s Yangtze” is mad hysterical. She is a great blogger who goes out of her way (into a porn theater) to bring her readers such a fantastic story. One of her observations: “All around us we heard plastic bags tinkling and zips being unzipped. Worse of all, there was ACTUAL LOUD MOANING!!”

My goodness, didn’t realize that I haven’t post anything in the Eatery section since November. That means I haven’t been eating well. If mom finds out she would get a rage. Here is a typical conversation with mom over the phone:

Mom: Danh ha? (Even my mom skips the “O” in my name. She didn’t come up with Doanh. Daddy did.)
Me: Da. (who else, ma?)
Mom: Did you eat yet? (She speaks in Vietnamese of course.)
Me: Yes (While making instant noodles.)
Mom: What did you have?
Me: Steak and rice.
Mom: Did you make a salad with that?
Me: Of course! How was work?
Mom: (Goes on spill out the unpleasant experience she had with her boss and colleagues.)
Me: Told you to retired!
Mom: Soon!

What does the conversation has to do with Vietnamese hotpot? Nothing at all, but here is the delicious Cu Lao, which is great to have in the winter. Eating Cu Lao gives me a warm, family-oriented atmosphere. Cu Lao was the only reason I loved to go to the wedding in Viet Nam. Most of the time, Cu Lao would be included in the menu. In American, every Vietnamese wedding is served with Chinese food. What is up with that? I am dropping a hundred bucks, at least give me some Cu Lao. Although Cu Lao is made up of mixed variety of things (meat, veggies, seafood), they all become one savory flavor with different textures, unlike a “cu lao” album, which changes my mood like a girl at that time of the month again.

Although our beloved Ngoc Lan drew her last breath on this day five years ago, her name has yet to be forgotten. In my heart, she is still a scintillating star that will never diminished; therefore, I dedicated a theme called Star for iLoveNgocLan.com to remember one of the most magnificent voices in Vietnamese music. And I am not alone.

Besides her fans world wide, the late songwriter Vo Thuong also expressed his love toward the Star. Three years ago, he had written a tune called “Tieng Hat Ngoc Lan” and handed it to Jazzy Da Lam—a young jazz musician who I have a great respect for on both professional and personal level—with a wish that she could arrange and perform the piece for him. Before Jazzy could fulfill his request, Vo Thuong passed away due to severe illness.

After Vo Thuong united with Ngoc Lan, Jazzy went on and recorded the song based on the feelings he had shared with her about Ngoc Lan. With the emotion she has for the songwriter combined with Vo Thuong’s sentiment for Ngoc Lan, Jazzy delivers a breathtaking performance with her soul-soothing voice. And the virtuosity of her keyboarding added an exquisite texture to the work. Although Vo Thuong didn’t get to hear the final product, he is up above telling Ngoc Lan how proud he is with Jazzy’s accomplishment.

Thanks Jazzy for sharing something very special with all of Ngoc Lan’s fans. Thanks Vo Thuong for the beautiful “Tieng Hat Ngoc Lan.” R.I.P. Ngoc Lan and Vo Thuong.

Added: A brief compliment on Ngoc Lan from Nguyen Cao Ky Duyen and Nguyen Ngoc Ngan on Paris By Night 60.

When Dat Phan ridicules the hell out of the nail biz, people laugh. When I say something about it, people get furious. I guess he’s a comedian and I am not. I am not mad at him though. Albeit I find his mother-mocking accents to be annoying, he is one funny muthaflucker. Mad props to him. As for me, I like what someone has told me: “It sucks being you.” Damn right, baby!

Duong Trieu Vu has a milky face that goes so well with his baby voice. No matter how hard he tries to roughened up his flow, his fresh skin—similar to someone’s face I often describe as a piece of sliced sushi—doesn’t allow the voice to be tough. Even when he gives a sentimental performance of Han Le Nhan’s “Vien Khuc Viet Nam” on Paris By Night 77: 30 Nam Vien Xu, he’s as soft as grapes.

Although he makes regular appearances on Thuy Nga’s stage for a while, his debut, Ngay Do Co Em, only released last month. I am not so sure why his album takes a year and a half to complete. When Jazzy said her project, Moon & You, took almost two years to finish, I could see the reasons behind it. But DTV didn’t even pen a single composition, and most the tunes he covered are as old as he is. I am sure other singers could bang out an album like his in a week. Even the music is like a machine mass production from Thuy Nga, in which they have killed the sax sound trying to boast up syrupy tunes like Khuc Lan’s “Bai Ca Tinh Nho” (translated song), Nhat Dang Huy’s “Doi Em Trong Mo” and Tu Nhi’s “Doan Buon Cho Toi.”

The album is packed with saccharine, banal pieces like Viet Thi’s “Hanh Phuc Cuoi” (another translated track), Luong Bang Vinh’s “Duong Hoang Vang” and Quoc An’s “Tinh Nhu Giac Mo,” but I am not ashamed to admit that I dig the medley “Hoi Nguoi Tinh,” a romantic duet with Dam Vinh Hung. I didn’t fall for the music or the performance, but the boys have finally stepped out of the closet, crooning Christophe’s “Oh Mon Amour” together like they do mean every word they sing. Their love story is even more convincing then the two cowboys in Brokeback Mountain. I almost broke into tears when DTV informs his lover boy, “Oh my sweet love, please hear me now / Life waits for you to live somehow / Don’t be afraid, somehow you must know / I am here to stay, I’ll never go / I’ll give to you all of my heart, all of my love, all my life.” Don’t worry baby, DVH won’t go anywhere. He could be in and out of the US any time he wants to. He got so much love here from the fans. A word of advice to DVH: messing with a young boy in America is considered a pedophile. So be careful!