Last night
Dec. 17th, 2006 09:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumLast night we had a pair of parties to attend.
The first was my dojo's anniversary party. The second was a friend's annual Hannukah Ham party.
The first was a potluck, and I made felafel, because they aren't that hard, are vegetarian, and divide easily. Some tzatziki to go with it and life was good. Except that I failed to recall this is the week before Christmas. The kitchen was a baking frenzy (right now divinity is being made and the dining room table is agroan under the weight of not less than 14 dz cookies. The baking will continue until well into the feast of Christmas).
Which meant the window for doing the frying was a little later than I wanted (and we were late, but not so much as it mattered). Tip: Do not fry felafel in oil which is less than 340; and aim for 360, because it just disintegrates, which shortens the life of the oil, dramatically, and sort of defeats the purpose. It will, however, make the house smell like a restaurant.
The party was also possessed of entertainment (and a lot of people, some from as far away as Phoenix. 25 years of being around, and with a very good sensei, means a lot of people know the place. Joanne (sandan) has actually been training with Frank since the very first classes, at Rio Hondo College, back in 1979. The dean who told Frank to keep the check, and come back to teach [class size had shrunk to zero, in the course of one term; but a petition was raised and lots of people {where were they before?} had signed, and that was, as they say, that, was also there last night).
Before dinner was a small group of taiko-drummers from Kishin Daiko, in West Covina. It was visceral. I've heard big drums before. These weren't, actually, all that large (the three big one's being made from old wine barrels, actually) but the space was small (the dojo is about 25 x 70) and enclosed.
The only other thing like it was being in the middle of 40+ pipers. So the drones rattled the ribs, and the chanters just filled the world. Both of those were such that one didn't hear the sound, as much as inhabit it.
The first song was martial, and the evocation of it (esp. with the windy, rainy, weather of the day) was incredible. The next piece had a galloping rythm, and it moved. I could recall all sorts of fast riding. On the flats, tearing up the twisting trails below; and then above, the eucalyptus of Monta&ntild;a de Oro, whipping along a straight run beneath oaks one had to duck. The drubbing of the shock against the body like the feel of the horse underneath.
About hald a dozen of the dojo-members got cards, and some will probably join that group.
Then the food, and the mingling, and me pointing people out to Maia (though with the Tai Chi students; their families, the visiting guests, and the families of other aikidoka I knew maybe 1/5th of the 70+ people in the room.
Which led to the next part. The part I'd been half-worried about for a couple of months.
The Follies.
It seems the dojo has a tradition of home-grown entertainment at the end of the year function. Back in Oct., when they started saying they needed people to do something, I said I'd play some penny-whistle.
It's past-time. I like it, but I don't do it incredibly well. I don't (to my discredit) have anyone to play with. So I tend to race melodies. I also, to my regret, don't sight read terribly well. I can see the shape of things, but the rythms are vague and the fine fingering can elude me; because I don't hear a note when I see it but rather appreciate the, relative, relation to it.
I didn't get a solid enough grounding in theory when I was playing the cello, and it hurts me.
I also worried that I'd make some technical mistake. The penny whistle is a cranky instrument. It is, as Sola once observed, with surprise, very responsive to air pressure/volume. She said it was more finicky than the oboe (which she plays very well, despite the slurs often level against it). I was afraid I'd make one of those sorts of mistakes.
I was first up. Looking back, this might have been for the best.
I'd been warming them up, so they were in decent tone (I played two, a Thin Weasel, in D, and a Sweetheart in C, both in wood. I didn't play the brass Dixon, and realised my Sweetheart Fife, in Bb, while of excellent tone, was beyond me last night, because I am still a trifle ill, and have not the wind it requires, so it was still in the car).
But the whole room was looking at me. So I laid the Dixon and the Sweetheart on the little stand and did some business (back in high school and in college I did theater, and I still do character play at Rennasaince Faires) to get their attention, and then ran a scale, from top to bottom; which happens to be the opening eight notes of "Joy to the World", to make sure I wasn't rasping, or suffering some other quirk which would make the actual sound wretched.
All being in order, I ran through a set, Carrickfergus, Bonnie Charlie, Roddy McCorly (because they have the same opening notes, though less parallel than the opening strains of God Rest Ye Merry, Gentleman, and Vene, Vene Immanuel) and another pair.
Switched whistles, and did a bit of banter; to kill the applause, and played The Minstrel Boy, The Hills of Connemara (with some variation, mostly because I got nervous, and scrambled the first two bars, which needed a lot of recovering), Loch Lomond and wrapped it up with Auld Lang Syne (which got some of the same treatment as The Hills of Connemara, though it was more understandable, as I taught myself Auld Lang Syne by ear, and it was the only piece I had, specific, performance anxiety about because I'd decided to end it there. In part because it's a nice air, and in part because it was the only tune I knew everyone there had heard).
The second set was more venturesome, because two of the songs (Hills of Connemara, Loch Lomond) were one's which don't sound right unless they are gone through twice, which worked because I was able to hit the chorus of Connemara dead on, and Loch Lomond is one of the songs I have stone cold; because it and Carrickfergus are the two pieces I started to teach myself ornamentation with.
It was good to feel directed applause again.
The rest of the entertainment was, largely, either farce, or demonstration. Which was nice, but Erica and Wayne probably did the right thing in having me open, butterflies or not.
I wish we'd gotten to the other party sooner, as it's one of the few chances I have to play poker, and the pattern for it is that I socialise until the game starts, and then, sooner or later, drift in and disappear.
We got there and I was still sort of wound up, and; the hour being what it was, the game was past mid-point, so I didn't get to mingle much. Which Maia told me was noticed, because there were people who wanted to talk to me. Sigh. The season is still ongoing and, with luck, I can expect to see them soon.
The game went well. Oddly enough I was relaxed. I don't play what most people, these days, think of as poker (which is to to say, Texas Hold 'em, which is a poker game, but not what I think of as poker. It was meant to move lots of money around, and it does. But the real strategy in it is money management, and computing pot-odds. It lacks a lot of the card-reading and variabilty of future odds which real poker has) I play LASFS Poker. In part because I learned to play poker there, and in part because; despite the strange, and unplayable games, which are on that list, mostly it's pretty solid forms of high-low games.
Which do a fair job of moving money around, all by themselves.
The cards, however, were running strange. It was low-hands, for everyone, most of the night (this in contravention of the usual, which has a pretty even split, with a couple of people looking to go high, and a couple to go low, and the rare attempt to pig; and claim both halves of the pot).
And I was folding, and folding, and folding. First, there was a lot of anaconda. This is a simple game.
Deal seven cards. Pass three to your left, and get three from your right. Then pass 2/get 2. Pass one more, get one more. Then you throw away two cards (to make a hand of five) which will be played as a roll-your own (i.e. the player decided what order to show them) five card stud.
The play is simple. Pass 3, pass 2, pass 1, throw 2, fold.
Why? Because, in the last hand of it, which I thought, briefly, about playing. I had a full-house, 10s over fives. I'd started with a full-house, 5s over 4s, and had a full-house (during the passing) of 9s over 5s.
It was the lowest of four full houses, which lost to a four of a kind.
My good hands were high, sort of, and mostly in 7-stud, high-low (Hoo-ha) I slow-played a pair of eights (hidden) and the only thing I was worried about (looking at the board, and the play) was that Christian had better than his showing 3s. He didn't, and Stan had folded; because he didn't believe Christian was staying on only a pair of 3s, which meant his jacks (which were just as quiet as my eights) weren't in the game.
When I got a pair of aces, down, in a later hand I was feeling pretty good about slow-playing Larry's nines. When I paired tripped on the table, I was feeling better, but there was no way Larry was staying in on that; because I didn't raise on it but betting into him later said I thought I had him beat, and he knew what he had, so the low players had to be convinced to fight amongst themselves. The full house I got on the last down card aces over jacks) was just a filip.
Stan dealt a hand of serious poker. Five Stud, high only. I caught a pair of tens, then an ace, then a visible pair of tens. I bet. A couple of people stayed in, and then I got a visible pair of aces. Amazingly someone (Ed I think) stayed on my quarter, and someone else (probably Christian) stayed too. And I pulled a ten to fill the boat.
But the best hand was the last of the night.
7-Stud, High-low. I have a KJ down, the 3 of spades up. It's a crap hand. Everyone else on the table has nothing above a 7. For a dime I stayed, commenting that I really ought to fold. I connected to the 4. Stan says, "No, you should've stayed." I'm not happy, because this hand is still pretty much dead. I get a seven. Everyone else has started to get high hands. A pair of sixs, a pair of eight, and Christian with slop, 7,Q,A. I pull a 10, Christian has a 10.
I get a jack down. My hand is either a pair of Jacks (dead) or I gamble for low. I've been betting hard. I was a couple of bucks up, when the hand started, and I've gone almost ten in the hole chasing this stupid thing.
So I have 3,4,7,10,J, for low.
So we get set to declare, the hands open (no chip=low, 1 chip=high, and 2 chips=pig [you think your hand can take both the high pot, and the low pot. This only works in games where a straight doesn't count against the low... flushes are always disregarde d for low), and I show low.
Everyone else has believed me, and gone high. Len and I split all three pots (there were two people who'd tapped out). When all was said and done (and the shouting was over... Christian had gone high on crap, but his 10 high, would have just squeaked my jack. He was, pleasantly miffed, much as Stan had been when he'd folded his better pair). I wasn't down the money I'd been pouring into that pot like it was nothing, but rather sittig on top of ten bucks profit.
Since I'd never put more than 1o dollars in play, it was a pretty good night.
The first was my dojo's anniversary party. The second was a friend's annual Hannukah Ham party.
The first was a potluck, and I made felafel, because they aren't that hard, are vegetarian, and divide easily. Some tzatziki to go with it and life was good. Except that I failed to recall this is the week before Christmas. The kitchen was a baking frenzy (right now divinity is being made and the dining room table is agroan under the weight of not less than 14 dz cookies. The baking will continue until well into the feast of Christmas).
Which meant the window for doing the frying was a little later than I wanted (and we were late, but not so much as it mattered). Tip: Do not fry felafel in oil which is less than 340; and aim for 360, because it just disintegrates, which shortens the life of the oil, dramatically, and sort of defeats the purpose. It will, however, make the house smell like a restaurant.
The party was also possessed of entertainment (and a lot of people, some from as far away as Phoenix. 25 years of being around, and with a very good sensei, means a lot of people know the place. Joanne (sandan) has actually been training with Frank since the very first classes, at Rio Hondo College, back in 1979. The dean who told Frank to keep the check, and come back to teach [class size had shrunk to zero, in the course of one term; but a petition was raised and lots of people {where were they before?} had signed, and that was, as they say, that, was also there last night).
Before dinner was a small group of taiko-drummers from Kishin Daiko, in West Covina. It was visceral. I've heard big drums before. These weren't, actually, all that large (the three big one's being made from old wine barrels, actually) but the space was small (the dojo is about 25 x 70) and enclosed.
The only other thing like it was being in the middle of 40+ pipers. So the drones rattled the ribs, and the chanters just filled the world. Both of those were such that one didn't hear the sound, as much as inhabit it.
The first song was martial, and the evocation of it (esp. with the windy, rainy, weather of the day) was incredible. The next piece had a galloping rythm, and it moved. I could recall all sorts of fast riding. On the flats, tearing up the twisting trails below; and then above, the eucalyptus of Monta&ntild;a de Oro, whipping along a straight run beneath oaks one had to duck. The drubbing of the shock against the body like the feel of the horse underneath.
About hald a dozen of the dojo-members got cards, and some will probably join that group.
Then the food, and the mingling, and me pointing people out to Maia (though with the Tai Chi students; their families, the visiting guests, and the families of other aikidoka I knew maybe 1/5th of the 70+ people in the room.
Which led to the next part. The part I'd been half-worried about for a couple of months.
The Follies.
It seems the dojo has a tradition of home-grown entertainment at the end of the year function. Back in Oct., when they started saying they needed people to do something, I said I'd play some penny-whistle.
It's past-time. I like it, but I don't do it incredibly well. I don't (to my discredit) have anyone to play with. So I tend to race melodies. I also, to my regret, don't sight read terribly well. I can see the shape of things, but the rythms are vague and the fine fingering can elude me; because I don't hear a note when I see it but rather appreciate the, relative, relation to it.
I didn't get a solid enough grounding in theory when I was playing the cello, and it hurts me.
I also worried that I'd make some technical mistake. The penny whistle is a cranky instrument. It is, as Sola once observed, with surprise, very responsive to air pressure/volume. She said it was more finicky than the oboe (which she plays very well, despite the slurs often level against it). I was afraid I'd make one of those sorts of mistakes.
I was first up. Looking back, this might have been for the best.
I'd been warming them up, so they were in decent tone (I played two, a Thin Weasel, in D, and a Sweetheart in C, both in wood. I didn't play the brass Dixon, and realised my Sweetheart Fife, in Bb, while of excellent tone, was beyond me last night, because I am still a trifle ill, and have not the wind it requires, so it was still in the car).
But the whole room was looking at me. So I laid the Dixon and the Sweetheart on the little stand and did some business (back in high school and in college I did theater, and I still do character play at Rennasaince Faires) to get their attention, and then ran a scale, from top to bottom; which happens to be the opening eight notes of "Joy to the World", to make sure I wasn't rasping, or suffering some other quirk which would make the actual sound wretched.
All being in order, I ran through a set, Carrickfergus, Bonnie Charlie, Roddy McCorly (because they have the same opening notes, though less parallel than the opening strains of God Rest Ye Merry, Gentleman, and Vene, Vene Immanuel) and another pair.
Switched whistles, and did a bit of banter; to kill the applause, and played The Minstrel Boy, The Hills of Connemara (with some variation, mostly because I got nervous, and scrambled the first two bars, which needed a lot of recovering), Loch Lomond and wrapped it up with Auld Lang Syne (which got some of the same treatment as The Hills of Connemara, though it was more understandable, as I taught myself Auld Lang Syne by ear, and it was the only piece I had, specific, performance anxiety about because I'd decided to end it there. In part because it's a nice air, and in part because it was the only tune I knew everyone there had heard).
The second set was more venturesome, because two of the songs (Hills of Connemara, Loch Lomond) were one's which don't sound right unless they are gone through twice, which worked because I was able to hit the chorus of Connemara dead on, and Loch Lomond is one of the songs I have stone cold; because it and Carrickfergus are the two pieces I started to teach myself ornamentation with.
It was good to feel directed applause again.
The rest of the entertainment was, largely, either farce, or demonstration. Which was nice, but Erica and Wayne probably did the right thing in having me open, butterflies or not.
I wish we'd gotten to the other party sooner, as it's one of the few chances I have to play poker, and the pattern for it is that I socialise until the game starts, and then, sooner or later, drift in and disappear.
We got there and I was still sort of wound up, and; the hour being what it was, the game was past mid-point, so I didn't get to mingle much. Which Maia told me was noticed, because there were people who wanted to talk to me. Sigh. The season is still ongoing and, with luck, I can expect to see them soon.
The game went well. Oddly enough I was relaxed. I don't play what most people, these days, think of as poker (which is to to say, Texas Hold 'em, which is a poker game, but not what I think of as poker. It was meant to move lots of money around, and it does. But the real strategy in it is money management, and computing pot-odds. It lacks a lot of the card-reading and variabilty of future odds which real poker has) I play LASFS Poker. In part because I learned to play poker there, and in part because; despite the strange, and unplayable games, which are on that list, mostly it's pretty solid forms of high-low games.
Which do a fair job of moving money around, all by themselves.
The cards, however, were running strange. It was low-hands, for everyone, most of the night (this in contravention of the usual, which has a pretty even split, with a couple of people looking to go high, and a couple to go low, and the rare attempt to pig; and claim both halves of the pot).
And I was folding, and folding, and folding. First, there was a lot of anaconda. This is a simple game.
Deal seven cards. Pass three to your left, and get three from your right. Then pass 2/get 2. Pass one more, get one more. Then you throw away two cards (to make a hand of five) which will be played as a roll-your own (i.e. the player decided what order to show them) five card stud.
The play is simple. Pass 3, pass 2, pass 1, throw 2, fold.
Why? Because, in the last hand of it, which I thought, briefly, about playing. I had a full-house, 10s over fives. I'd started with a full-house, 5s over 4s, and had a full-house (during the passing) of 9s over 5s.
It was the lowest of four full houses, which lost to a four of a kind.
My good hands were high, sort of, and mostly in 7-stud, high-low (Hoo-ha) I slow-played a pair of eights (hidden) and the only thing I was worried about (looking at the board, and the play) was that Christian had better than his showing 3s. He didn't, and Stan had folded; because he didn't believe Christian was staying on only a pair of 3s, which meant his jacks (which were just as quiet as my eights) weren't in the game.
When I got a pair of aces, down, in a later hand I was feeling pretty good about slow-playing Larry's nines. When I paired tripped on the table, I was feeling better, but there was no way Larry was staying in on that; because I didn't raise on it but betting into him later said I thought I had him beat, and he knew what he had, so the low players had to be convinced to fight amongst themselves. The full house I got on the last down card aces over jacks) was just a filip.
Stan dealt a hand of serious poker. Five Stud, high only. I caught a pair of tens, then an ace, then a visible pair of tens. I bet. A couple of people stayed in, and then I got a visible pair of aces. Amazingly someone (Ed I think) stayed on my quarter, and someone else (probably Christian) stayed too. And I pulled a ten to fill the boat.
But the best hand was the last of the night.
7-Stud, High-low. I have a KJ down, the 3 of spades up. It's a crap hand. Everyone else on the table has nothing above a 7. For a dime I stayed, commenting that I really ought to fold. I connected to the 4. Stan says, "No, you should've stayed." I'm not happy, because this hand is still pretty much dead. I get a seven. Everyone else has started to get high hands. A pair of sixs, a pair of eight, and Christian with slop, 7,Q,A. I pull a 10, Christian has a 10.
I get a jack down. My hand is either a pair of Jacks (dead) or I gamble for low. I've been betting hard. I was a couple of bucks up, when the hand started, and I've gone almost ten in the hole chasing this stupid thing.
So I have 3,4,7,10,J, for low.
So we get set to declare, the hands open (no chip=low, 1 chip=high, and 2 chips=pig [you think your hand can take both the high pot, and the low pot. This only works in games where a straight doesn't count against the low... flushes are always disregarde d for low), and I show low.
Everyone else has believed me, and gone high. Len and I split all three pots (there were two people who'd tapped out). When all was said and done (and the shouting was over... Christian had gone high on crap, but his 10 high, would have just squeaked my jack. He was, pleasantly miffed, much as Stan had been when he'd folded his better pair). I wasn't down the money I'd been pouring into that pot like it was nothing, but rather sittig on top of ten bucks profit.
Since I'd never put more than 1o dollars in play, it was a pretty good night.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re: Towards an aesthetic of the forearm
Date: 2006-12-18 05:10 am (UTC)Arms and the man
Date: 2006-12-18 05:23 am (UTC)You may amuse yourself with the title.
*admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:41 am (UTC)Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:45 am (UTC)(And those are indeed lovely forearms. Although my kink is the eye crinkles.)
*returns to a reverent contemplation of Mandy Patinkin*
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:48 am (UTC)Just, you know, don't take too long about it, eh?
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:49 am (UTC)I believe the line forms behind that fair maid over there.
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:51 am (UTC)*fills in time admiring lovely women*
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:52 am (UTC)You're the one with the famous butt.
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:56 am (UTC)I'm not sure I've been discussedd as a confection, to my face, lately. You'll turn my little head.
I am bemused that my whimsical decision to use that icon managed to so thorougly derail the conversation.
I'll address the specifics of the claims/counterclaims, where they were made.
TK
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:58 am (UTC)*desists*
*ceases, also*
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:01 am (UTC)*nips in front*
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:02 am (UTC)TK
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2007-11-01 10:43 pm (UTC)Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:06 am (UTC)TK
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:09 am (UTC)Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:14 am (UTC)TK
Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
From:Re: *admires the revenent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 05:58 am (UTC)I do, albiet not in years, know how to play a stringed instrument, so all you need to do is come back as cello, and I'll spend years running my fingers along your neck.
TK
Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:02 am (UTC)...
*the Marna you have reached has just exploded. Please stand by, as normal service will resume as soon as possible*
*beeeeep*
Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:07 am (UTC)(opens door, fans self, contemplates unpleasantly cool shower).
TK
Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:13 am (UTC)(Bear, you can scrub his front. See how much I loff you?)
Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:14 am (UTC)Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:19 am (UTC)TK
Re: *admires the reverent silence of the chatroom full of women I just showed that to*
Date: 2006-12-18 06:19 am (UTC)Empiricism! Yes!
Date: 2008-08-11 02:56 am (UTC)Re: Arms and the man
Date: 2006-12-18 09:20 pm (UTC)