Tuesday, March 3, 2015

     Jiro is a one of a kind man because he dedicates his whole life to his passion, making sushi. He shows a great work ethic, and by it he inspires many people. One of those people being myself. Seeing Jiro work very hard at something he loves has inspired me greatly. I think we can all learn from Jiro. I've learned that if you want something you have to work for it, it will never handed to you. If your passionate about something then working hard for it, shouldn't be hard at all.

     I think that you should love what you do for a living, and it should make you happy. If you do not love your job then it may be difficult to work hard at it. Jiro has taught me that there is always room for improvement. My perspective of that was, if your good at something then become great at it. There should always be room for improvement. 

      For me my passions are playing guitar and cutting hair. As much as I love playing guitar, everyone always tells me that being a barber is more realistic. Yet I always find myself stuck in my room playing riffs on my on my guitar. Since I was twelve I've always worked hard to make myself a better guitar player. Now I'm in two solid bands, and its all because of my dedication and hard work. In the end your hard work does always pay off and if you love what your working for, then the reward is so much greater.

     Jiro has inspired me greatly to follow my dreams. Fully dedicating your life to your work might sound crazy, but not if your work is your life. in ten years i plan being able to call myself a rock-in barber. Being a musician and a barber would be awesome. only because i would love my work, would that be a dream come true.

     To me , Jiro is an inspiration to my life. seeing how much he cares about his work, has made me believe that anything can be done. whatever you wish to be it is not impossible if you work hard enough. this is what Jiro has taught me. 

Thursday, February 26, 2015

my passion for music is something that will live on through me till i die. never have i given up on music and i never will. the crying and weeping notes i play on my guitar symbolize what i have gone through in my short life. many think of music as a hobby, i think of it as being a part of my soul. 

Friday, February 20, 2015

The trade of barbering is something that will never die
The way you feel when your in the hands of a true barber is one like no other
The smell of talc powder and bay-rum after shave lingers through the shop
The buzz of clippers are some what soothing to your ears
Men wait for months just to go and get a traditional shave a cut 
The barber shop is a mans home away from home
The barbershop is my home

-Isaiah B




                                          TRADITIONAL CUTS. OLDSCHOOL BARBERING
           wake up and smell the suavecito !
Catch in the rye questions
• why does Holden think everyone is a phony?
• what could of influenced Holden to be so skeptical about people?
• does Holden put on an act, and never realize it ?

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

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  • The Weary Blues

    By Langston Hughes 1902–1967 Langston Hughes
    Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
    Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
          I heard a Negro play.
    Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
    By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
          He did a lazy sway. . . .
          He did a lazy sway. . . .
    To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.
    With his ebony hands on each ivory key
    He made that poor piano moan with melody.
          O Blues!
    Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
    He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
          Sweet Blues!
    Coming from a black man’s soul.
          O Blues!
    In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
    I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—
          “Ain’t got nobody in all this world,
          Ain’t got nobody but ma self.
          I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’
          And put ma troubles on the shelf.”

    Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
    He played a few chords then he sang some more—
          “I got the Weary Blues
          And I can’t be satisfied.
          Got the Weary Blues
          And can’t be satisfied—
          I ain’t happy no mo’
          And I wish that I had died.”
    And far into the night he crooned that tune.
    The stars went out and so did the moon.
    The singer stopped playing and went to bed
    While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
    He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.